#tyler too but he wasn’t here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ahsokaismyqueen · 3 months ago

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Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks.

As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat.

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.”

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you.

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.”

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up.

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks.

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight.

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick.

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.”

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?”

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly?

“It’s the 11th. Why?”

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.”

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?”

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look.

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?”

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking.

You didn’t need to be.

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air.

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!”

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again.

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!”

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said.

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.”

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away.

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.”

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted.

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could.

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.”

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him.

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.”

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.”

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again.

“Well, look who it is.”

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.”

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . .

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.”

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies.

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart.

He smirked. “You kept track?”

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.”

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin.

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.”

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?”

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along.

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face.

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s.

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you.

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach.

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary.

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief.

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek.

“You’re - you’re pregnant?”

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.”

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?”

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other.

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake.

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son.

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early.

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?”

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!”

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.”

“What did you say?”

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.”

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible.

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?”

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you.

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?”

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said.

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase -

“I’m here, I’m here!”

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side.

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse.

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile.

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.”

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind.

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?”

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.”

“You - you what?”

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.”

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.”

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment.

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.”

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable.

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“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously.

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.”

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder.

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.”

“So far?” You said curiously.

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you.

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.”

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased.

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.”

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?”

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted.

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock.

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.”

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!”

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.”

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby.

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally.

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked.

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door.

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in.

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.”

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself.

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo.

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.”

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave.

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked.

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son.

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms.

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him.

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach.

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice.

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life.

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked.

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.”

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine

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alisonsfics · 2 months ago

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risk it all for you

pairing: tyler owens x reader

summary: you and tyler have liked each other since high school. but you both may have waited too long to tell each other, which leads to a pretty nasty fight between the two of you. that’s when a storm comes.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: ended up being so much longer than i thought it would, but had a blast writing for everyone’s favorite tornado cowboy

The comforting scent of burning wood filled your lungs as you sat by the campfire. You didn’t even notice the smile that was glued to your face as you looked around.

The recent storms had brought in all kinds of visitors, hoping to witness a tornado up close and personal. It was the end of a busy day, and all the chasers were camping out in the parking lot of the motel they were staying at.

Tyler, your best friend since high school, had invited you to the bonfire. Tyler had always been the adrenaline junkie, not you. Chasing tornadoes was his thing, and you were glad to let him have it all to himself.

You were currently sitting in the back of Tyler’s truck waiting for him to bring you back a beer.

“So, you’re telling me you and Tyler have never gone for a ride?” One of Tyler’s friends continued to pester you. You quickly shook your head. You couldn’t bear the thought of risking your life like that. “Never, you all can keep your tornadoes. I am happy staying at home and hearing the stories.” You replied.

“Nobody said I was talking about tornadoes.” He retorted. The whole group erupted into laughter. Your cheeks heated up at the implication. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. You definitely had.

You heard a few rogue whistles. “Alright, that’s enough.” You heard a low voice say beside you. You turned to look over your shoulder and saw Tyler with two beers in hand.

“Here you go, sweetheart. Don’t let ‘em bother you too much.” He said, handing the bottle over to you. He jumped up to sit next to you on the tailgate. Even after being friends for years, you still sometimes got butterflies when you hung out with him.

“I mean, you can’t blame them. It’s a complete mystery how we’ve managed to stay just friends. I mean, you are just so hot and irresistible. I don’t know how any girl could stay friends with the infamous Tyler Owens.” You sarcastically teased him.

He nearly spit out his beer as he laughed at your joke. Whenever Tyler laughed at your jokes, it was like a little ego boost.

Many people had prodded over the years and asked you and Tyler why you never dated. Every time you gave a sarcastic response to the questions, Tyler fell a little harder for you.

Tyler leaned against you, clinking his bottle against yours. His arm pressed up against yours. Heat radiated off his skin. You hadn’t realized how cold you were. Tyler noticed too.

“Oh hang on, here take this,” he said, grabbing a blanket from behind him. He carefully wrapped it around your shoulders, so it would keep you warm.

You could smell his cologne on the blanket. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend you were wrapped up in his arms.

“So, Tyler, if you two aren’t together, are you seeing anybody else?” One of the girls sat around the fire asked Tyler. You instantly felt your stomach drop. You’d watched girls flirt with Tyler for years, but it never got easier. You faked a smile, but inside, you had a pit in your stomach.

“Why you wanna know? You want me all to yourself?” Tyler jokingly flirted back.

It was no secret that Tyler was a flirt. It never meant anything more to him. It was always just a flirty comment. But you still got jealous. You knew you and Tyler couldn’t have any kind of flirtatious relationship.

The girl pretended to fan herself and blew a kiss towards Tyler. Everyone was laughing at the silly exchange. You just couldn’t do it.

You set down the blanket and hopped down off the tailgate. “I gotta get something out of my car.” You lied, since everyone’s eyes were glued on you. Jealousy was written all over your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

They all went back to their conversations as you walked away. You wiped away the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

You heard a heavy pair of footsteps behind you. “Wait up. Where ya goin’?” He asked. You both knew you weren’t just “getting something out of your car.”

“Anywhere but here, Tyler,” you said. You continued walking and refused to look back at Tyler. You knew if you looked at him, you’d melt and lose the courage to leave. Tyler could convince you to do anything, and all it took was the twinkle in his eye.

You reached out to open your car door. Tyler smacked his hand against the door, pushing it closed. The loud slam caused you both to jump. It hadn’t been so aggressive in his head.

He mumbled a quick “sorry” and then squeezed himself between you and the car, his back pressed up against the car door.

You focused your eyes on the ground. You refused to look him in the eye.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you mad at me?” He asked you. You rolled your eyes and huffed. He waited for you to answer as you stubbornly crossed your arms. “I’m not mad at you, Ty. I just want to leave.” You said, with your eyes still glued to the ground.

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You bit your tongue, trying to remain assured. Tyler had to resist the urge to laugh at how much effort it was taking you to keep a serious face.

“Really? Cause it looks like you’re mad at me. In fact, it looks like you’re a little jealous.” He said, smirking down at you. He moved his hand from your chin to brush a piece of hair behind your ear.

You pushed him off of you and took a step back. “Oh, really? Is it that obvious?” You said, hitting his arm. He cocked his head to the side. He was expecting you to deny it, and he was a little shocked when you didn’t.

“So, you are feelin’ a little jealous? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He said, taking a small step towards you. He was wearing the same cocky smile that he always had plastered on his face.

“Do you know how hard it is to see you flirt with every girl you meet?” You asked. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out why you were so frustrated. To him, it seemed like there was a very simple solution.

He let his hand rest on your waist, softly toying with the fabric of your shirt. “Well, sweetheart, if you wanted me, you could have just told me. I’m right here for you to take.” He told you, genuinely. Hearing those words come out of his mouth made your stomach do flips.

“It’s different with me and you. We can’t flirt the way you do with those girls.” You told him. You could feel yourself starting to give into his touch, as you leaned in closer to him. “I see no reason why we can’t, sweetheart.” He said, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

You could feel your heart pounding. You had to remind yourself to breathe. His cologne was enveloping all your senses. Your eyes were stuck on his.

“Cause with them, it’s casual. But we’ve been friends for years, so it could never be casual. It would have to be all or nothing. It would have to be this serious thing, or we’d risk our entire friendship.” You told him, your voice coming out as a whisper. He ran his fingers through your hair. He couldn’t help but admire you under the moonlight.

“I never claimed to want something casual with you, sweetheart.” He told you. You could feel goosebumps spread down your arms as he looked at you like you were his everything.

You had to pull yourself out of it. You were getting dragged in. “We can’t be together, Tyler.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. You noticed his slight frown as you slipped out of his arms.

“Why not? I think we both know we’d be great together.” He tried to convince you. He didn’t know why you seemed so hesitant when you both knew the feelings were mutual.

He could see the sadness on your face. You wanted to be with Tyler, but you knew it wouldn’t work. “I would always end up as your second priority. It would ruin us, and we’d never be able to be friends again.” You told him. Your emotion was clear in your voice.

He cocked his head to the side in confusion. That was the last thing he expected you to say. He never thought he struggled at showing you how important you were to him.

“What do you mean? Nobody comes before you. Nobody ever has. I’ve always put you first.” He told you. He was practically begging you for answers. He wanted to know how to assure you.

“Owens, I’m not talking about a person. I’m talking about all of this.” You said, looking around you both. There were storm chasers camping out for as far as you both could see. “What are you saying? That we can’t be together because I chase tornadoes?” He asked, starting to raise his voice.

You both were very stubborn people, so it was gradually turning into more of an argument.

“I’m saying you’d always have one foot out the door. And at the drop of a hat, you’d be racing out to risk your life. I can’t be wondering if you’re gonna come home. But, I know how much you love what you do.” You told him. Your voice cracked, and Tyler stepped forward to try to comfort you.

You put your hands up to stop him. He swore under his breath. He was seeing how determined you really were. He was becoming less confident that you could convince you otherwise.

“Well maybe I love you more.” He said.

The thought of losing you was enough to finally push him to confess how he really felt about you. He saw your eyes soften. Those were the words you’d always dreamed of hearing Tyler say.

You felt your heart break when you realized they didn’t change anything. “Oh, come on, Tyler. It’s not fair to throw out words that you can’t back up with any commitments.” You said.

Tyler was becoming more frustrated as he felt you drifting further and further away. “Don’t push me away. You’ve known me for years. You know me better than anyone. You know I’m not reckless. A risk taker? Yes, but I’m careful enough to stay safe. Because I’ve got someone to come home to.” He told you.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all you could focus on was the broken expression on Tyler’s face. “Tyler, I’ve seen you chase tornadoes for years. I’ve seen how much you light up when you talk about it. I know how much you love it. It’s inspiring, it really is, but it’s also the reason you can’t make a long-term commitment to anything or anyone else.” You told him, honestly.

Tyler shook his head, looking down at the ground. You were technically right. He had trouble making commitments. But it wasn’t because of how much he loved storm chasing.

It was because of how much he loved you.

“What about us, huh? We’ve been friends for years. I’ve never missed a birthday or a phone call or a breakup. So, don’t tell me I can’t make a commitment. I have never failed to be there for you. Why would I stop if we started dating?” He snapped at you.

You flinched at how loudly he was talking. He’d never yelled at you before. He noticed how your expression changed. You stepped backwards, putting some physical and emotional space between the two of you.

You pushed past him to open your car door. “Wait, c’mon, don’t leave,” he begged you. He knew he’d crossed a line, and he was trying to remedy it.

“I’m not gonna stay here when you’re yelling at me like that.” You told him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I was trying to tell you that I’d always put you first.” He apologized, squeezing your hand. You wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“I can’t do this right now, Tyler.” You said, pulling your hand back and getting in your car. Tyler felt a pit in his stomach as you drove off. He couldn’t help but worry that he’d lost you for good.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he wondered what to do. His eyes landed on the bar across the street from the motel. He started walking in that direction. He felt stupid for being optimistic that you’d reciprocate his feelings.

His friends all called after him, having seen the whole fight go down. They all asked him where he was going, but he ignored them all. He wasn’t quite ready to talk about you and have his friends tell him he’d screwed up. Because he knew that already.

So, while you drove home and started crying on your couch, Tyler went to the bar. He wasn’t even really drinking that much. It was mostly just sulking.

He’d drowned out everyone else at the bar who was partying. He was sitting at the end of the bar staring into his glass. All he could think about was how hurt you looked when he yelled at you.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize over and over until you forgave him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a news alert playing on the television above the bar. His eyes darted up to the screen and saw “Multiple Tornado Spottings”. He realized your house was right in the middle of the storms.

He swore under his breath and raced towards his truck. Fueled by adrenaline, he sped towards your house. He had the pedal pushed down as far as it would go.

Nothing motivated Tyler more than the thought of you being in harm’s way. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and clicked on your contact.

He anxiously tapped on the steering wheel as his phone rang. It only rang once before he got sent to voicemail. He tried to call you again, and you declined the call again.

You were oblivious to the incoming storm, and you were in no mood to talk to Tyler.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Turn on the news, please.” He muttered to himself, praying that he could will it into existence.

Once he got to your house, he barely turned his truck off before jumping out and sprinting towards the front door.

He banged on the door with his fist. The winds were picking up around him. His adrenaline was still running high.

“Go away, Tyler.” He heard you yell from inside. He pounded on the door again. “There’s a storm, sweetheart. We gotta get to the cellar. It’s not safe.” He yelled through the door. He could barely hear himself over the howling wind. He quickly tapped his fingers on his leg, fidgeting as he waited for you to appear.

The door swung open. Your fear was written all over your face. Tyler grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tornado forming in the distance.

The wind was blowing you both around as you raced towards the cellar. Tyler kept a tight grip on your hand. He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

“Lookout,” Tyler yelled, shielding your body with his as a dumpster went flying by you both. After it missed you both, he tugged you towards the cellar.

The cellar doors had already flung open from the wind. He grabbed your waist, pushing you inside before him. You quickly ran down to the bottom of the stairs.

“Sweetheart, get me a stick or something down there or these doors won’t stay closed.” Tyler told you. He was wincing as he struggled to hold the doors closed.

You grabbed an old broomstick and handed it to him quickly. He shoved it through the handles and prayed it would hold.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta get to the back.” He said, nudging you.

“Over here,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the closet in the back of the cellar.

Tyler closed the closet door behind you both. It was a small closet. You were facing the back wall. He was covering your whole body with his. He had his hand protectively cupping the back of your head.

“Keep your eyes closed and hold on to those pipes, sweetheart.” He instructed you. You quickly nodded your head and did what he told you to do. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head, to try to comfort you.

You both had always had a nonverbal way of communicating. He obviously knew you were scared because who wouldn’t be? But he also knew that one of your biggest fears was something happening to him while chasing a storm. And now you were wrapped up in that.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He assured you, holding onto you tightly.

A high pitched whistle filled the room as the wind started to pick up. You could feel the pressure envelop your whole body. Everything around you was rattling.

Up above you, you could hear thuds as the tornado flung around cars and anything else in its path. It wasn’t long until you both heard the cellar doors rip open.

The howling wind got louder. It made your ears ring. Tyler tightened his grip on you as the closet doors started to shake. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the pipes.

“You promise me you won’t play hero.” Tyler yelled at you. He didn’t want you to get hurt trying to save him. You furiously shook your head. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.” You yelled back.

The closet doors started shaking even more. The hinges were loudly squeaking. You just knew that the tornado was right above you.

A piece of the door ripped off and flew through the air. The air swirled around the tiny closet, making it harder to hold on.

Pieces of the door kept splintering off. One of them sliced against Tyler’s bicep, causing him to wince and bite down on his lip.

The closet doors finally swung open. With the large cut on Tyler’s arm, his grip accidentally loosened. He started getting pulled backwards. He only had one hand on the pipes. He was gripping it with all the strength he had.

You wrapped one of your arms around the pipes and the other around his waist, pulling him back into you. You buried your face into his chest.

Then, the wind almost instantly disappeared.

You both continued to hold onto each other as your adrenaline still ran high. Tyler kissed the top of your head. “It’s over, sweetheart. We’re safe.” He whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

You both slowly pulled away from each other and leaned against opposite walls. Neither of you said a word as you tried to process what had just happened.

“You saved my life, sweetheart.” He said, looking at you with love in his eyes. You could feel the tears start to bubble up. You were finally letting yourself acknowledge how scared you’d been, now that you weren’t in danger anymore.

“I was so scared to lose you.” You whispered, your voice cracking. He pulled you into his arms, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He softly rubbed your back. “You did everything right, sweetheart.” He assured you.

He continued to hug you until you stopped crying. When you both pulled apart, you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“This was all my fault.” He mumbled under his breath. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. You stubbornly shook your head. “None of this was your fault. It was a tornado. You might be the tornado wrangler, but you can’t control them.” You said, trying to cheer him up and lighten the mood.

He grabbed your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. Neither of you wanted to keep your hands off each other. You both were still worried if you took your eyes off the other that they’d disappear.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you back there. If I hadn’t, we’d both still be at the motel. You wouldn’t have been in harm’s way if it wasn’t for me.” He told you, apologetically. He was realizing that his actions had put you in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at all. I wasn’t mad at you. I really wasn’t. I was mad at myself. You should have no reason to doubt how important you are to me. If you do, I need to fix that.” He said, squeezing both your hands. You noticed a smile start to grow on his face when you didn’t pull away.

“You never gave me a reason to doubt you. I was just scared. We’re not all as brave as the tornado wrangler.” You teased him. He let out a soft chuckle.

It was nice to have a peaceful moment, laughing together like you always did, after a life or death scenario.

“Does that mean?” Tyler started to ask you, a smirk beginning to grow. You just giggled and nodded your head. “Yes, it means you can kiss me, cowboy.” You said, cheesily smiling at him.

He didn’t waste any time grabbing your belt loops and pulling you closer to him. You cupped his face and leaned in to kiss you. You let yourself melt into the kiss. His soft lips fit perfectly against yours. Just like you’d always dreamed.

You could feel him smiling against your lips. You both pulled out of the kiss. Tyler looked at you with a look of awe. “I’ve spent years wishing I could do that.” He said, smiling down at you.

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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Text

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"

pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG

wrote this listening to roses <3

Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that.

Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back.

The humiliation was killing him.

Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.

And that’s when he noticed you.

Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.

You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.

Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night.

Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica.

You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background.

You were perfect.

If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought.

“You really gonna do it?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”

“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.

“You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”

Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”

Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”

Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were.

Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”

Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”

Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”

Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”

Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”

He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed.

“You better start saving up.”

This plan was flawless.

It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal.

The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed.

He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.

You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.

He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.

You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.

“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.

You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”

He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”

You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”

Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”

“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”

He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.

“I’m sorry about Jessica.”

The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it.

Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.

But he couldn’t let you see that.

He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”

You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”

You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page.

“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”

He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”

Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”

Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.

Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."

Oh, you were too perfect for this.

He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.

“Anytime."

It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.

But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place.

He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another.

Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.

He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.

The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.

“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.

Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”

His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”

The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged.

But Rafe stayed close.

The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive.

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”

You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.

He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.

“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”

Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”

You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”

Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.

“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”

Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”

Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”

Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”

Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”

He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.

When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.

“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.

You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”

He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”

The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.

But you didn’t see any of that.

You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.

Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.

But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.

He knew better than to get too comfortable.

He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.

“Rafe, can we talk?”

He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”

Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”

She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”

Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?

Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt.

“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”

He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”

"Rafe."

"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."

Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”

Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."

"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"

"You're being difficult for no reason."

Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.

“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."

Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.

This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.

But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game.

Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself.

He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.

One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”

Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words.

“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”

You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”

For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.

His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.

You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.

He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.

He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”

You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”

Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.

But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan.

He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”

You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.

He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan.

But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.

It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.

The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.

You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

This was wrong.

He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.

What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.

Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.

“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.

But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.

How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.

And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.

Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.

When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed.

He noticed everything about you these days.

“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”

He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”

You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.

“Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”

“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.

The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.

“Rafe, can I ask you something?”

He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.

“Sure sweets, what’s up?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.

“Okay,” you said. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”

“Good new, though, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more.

Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.

As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.

“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.

The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.

Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.

When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”

“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”

“About what?”

He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.

As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.

Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”

Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”

Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”

Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.

“Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."

And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.

“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”

Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Good,” Kelce said. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”

By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.

You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.

The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.

The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.

You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.

Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.

When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.

“Rafe, what’s—”

He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching.

All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.

You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.

Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.

Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him.

He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching.

Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.

When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing.

He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.

“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”

You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.

As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.

“Rafe—”

“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.

“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"

“Okay.”

He was already in too deep.

And just like that, he got what he wanted.

The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.

The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale.

Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.

But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.

He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore.

After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.

Until it ended.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place.

As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.

"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."

Oh.

Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"

Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

No. No, this can’t be real.

Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."

Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

Before you know it, you’re running—out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.

The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.

You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.

He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.

You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.

"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.

He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.

The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you.

Now, all you see is a liar.

“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.

You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.

But it’s impossible.

“Was I a bet?”

His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.

For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.

He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”

“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.

His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.

“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away,

“We’re done.”

“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.

“No.”

And with that, you leave.

Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.

“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”

You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”

He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”

“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation.

“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”

For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.

“I don’t even know who you are."

You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.

“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”

Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”

"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”

You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t.

Not this time.

With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.

But you’ve made up your mind.

“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.

But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction.

The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind.

The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.

This time, he doesn’t follow you.

2K notes · View notes

heartthrobin · 3 months ago

Text

the hate game (1)

oliver wood x female!reader

wc: 13.3k

warnings: enemies to lovers, so damn much pining, set in poa, timeline is a bit wonky, limited use of y/n, super grumpy!oliver, oliver's scottish accent (it's a warning in itself), alcohol consumption, super! duper! cheesy! (sorry not sorry)

an: just survived the worst two weeks of my life, but the fic is finally here! this fic was originally a full 50 chapter fic i had planned for wattpad like three years ago but i found my draft for it recently and decided it needed a revival. so enjoy it, and don't forget to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)

summary: the only thing more grating than Oliver's foul moods and his permanent scowl, has to be the fact that he's so damn pretty. you fucking hate him for it.

part two/final part

Movies, as is their premise, glamourise plenty of things - high school, politics, tiny Greek islands - but none more than the classic sucker-punch.

The teeth-crunching, blood-spitting moment where skin meets skin in a satisfying thump that sends an unsuspecting victim to the floor. Music plays and the hero grins, grabbing the girl round the waist: dipping low to kiss her.

What’s consistently (conveniently) left out is how bloody painful it is to be on the sending end of that fist.

The first, and only, time you’d ever punched someone was in second year.

It had seemed like a great idea in the moment, quickly succeeded by the mind-numbing pain that shot up your arm where knuckle met face.

You’d aimed for his jaw, but as it turns out: in addition to painful, punching someone wasn’t a particularly accurate sport for a beginner and your slippery skin found a round-tipped nose instead.

A collective gasp and a month’s worth of detention waited for you on the other side of your act of rage.

And sure, while afternoons in Snape’s classroom every Friday sucked: it was all worth it.

Every purple knuckle that throbbed with the slightest brush, the points lost to Hufflepuff, the pages and pages of Hogwarts Does Not Condon Physical Violence you’d been forced to write was worth seeing the trickle of blood running down from Oliver Wood’s nose.

To see that smug fucking look wiped clean from his face. To watch how he doubled over in pain, grappling onto his friend for balance.

“Tyler fancying you? Any bloke would rather snog a goblin.”

His little comment had earned him a broken nose.

It had been the start of a five year long feud.

It’s the reason - now - why the ground is racing up to meet you, the nose of your broomstick pressed down towards it and wind whipping so hard against your face it draws tears. You knock into the ground, catching yourself on wobbly legs. A few feet away, Oliver Wood has done the same.

He’s marching towards you with the same ferocity that’s curdling in your chest:

“Tha’s blatching and you know it!” His accent is ringing, thick and blistering with heat like it always is when he talks to you. At you, rather.

The accusation is crystal clear, and loud despite the echoing din of the quidditch stands above. From the field where you're parked, you can hear the chatter and the cheers and the boos all conglomerating into a fuzzy uproar.

There’s still twelve brooms floating in the air, spewing irritated shouts from players in both yellow and red:

Just let it go, Wood!

Come on, Cap, can we just finish the match please!

You promptly ignore them. Oliver follows suit.

“What?” You scoff, face hot as a kettle on a lit stove. “As if Laurel and Hardy haven’t been elbowing my girls all game!”

It goes without saying that you’re referring to Gryffindor’s red-head twin-set of beaters.

“Bullshit.” He seethes, it’s purposefully quiet enough that McGonagall’s approaching figure doesn’t pick it up.

She, unlike yourself, is less patient and knobby vein-webbed hands come out to knock you both against your chests: widening the gap to a safe enough distance between the opposing captains.

“You two are exhausting.” And she sounds it too. Her glasses tremble at the edge of her nose, sun shining down on her aged face. "If one more match this season is interrupted because you two can't control your tempers, you will both be stripped of captainship and you will not fly until you graduate. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

But Oliver isn't looking at her. His eyes are focused on yours over her cloaked shoulder.

He's taking the predictable route of not replying first.

"Crystal clear, Professor." You resign to speaking first, skewing a grin at his anger-sewn face.

It’s another long boring moment before he cuts his gaze from yours, kicks up a patch of grass and grits through his teeth.

“Yes, professor.”

As can be imagined, things between you and Oliver Wood have been tense since the day he’d hobbled up to the hospital wing with a palm over his face and blood dripping down over his already red tie.

But with age, came ferocity, and what started as passing glares in the corridor melted into anger-drowned faces and sharp words flung with intent to scar.

Things got infinitely worse when you were elected captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team in the same year Oliver was made captain for Gryffindor. It stoked the already sizzling embers that made moments around him warm and stuffy and hard to breathe.

The murky history swirled with what should be friendly competition, instead frothing into a bubbling pot of annoyed teammates and exasperated teachers and more sessions of detention than you would have ever had if you'd never met the son of a bitch that is Oliver Wood.

It's what puts you in situations like the ones you find yourself in the middle of before you even know how you got yourself there.

"You two," Professor Burbage had never held you in particularly high favour. It was just your luck that Oliver received the same courtesy. "One more word out of either of you and I will be seeing both of you this afternoon for detention in my classroom."

It was even unluckier that she'd sat you two barely three wizards away from one another and one fly-away comment had blown out into another heat-filled exchange. It always does.

"But professor--" you try.

"Right then. I'll see you both at five o' clock."

Oliver sighs, hands running up over his head between chestnut locks: "Fucking perfect. Thanks, big-mouth."

"Would you like to make it two days, Mr Wood?"

He huffs like an angry dog, tightening the grip on his writing-feather but says nothing else.

The end of the lesson doesn't come soon enough and when it does, Oliver is first out of his seat. You're grateful for it.

Cherry bumps you in the shoulder where she throws her bag over it. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

You grin, despite the sunken feeling hollowing your chest with the acknowledgment that you're gonna be spending yet another afternoon at the mercy of an under-paid staff member alongside the hothead that was the Gryffindor captain.

"Come on, that wasn't my fault and you know it."

Her tight red curls dance when she shakes her head. They match her blood red tie. "Somehow it never is."

To your dismay, but not surprise, Enzo shares Cherry's views when he waltzes into step beside you in the corridor between Muggle Studies and Divination. His arm drapes over your shoulders and his tall frame shakes when he laughs.

"You know," his voice is thick and gravelly. "You two are gonna have to fuck it out eventually."

You roll your eyes, shoving him off you with a chuckle. The sentiment isn't anything new. "Oh, shut up."

The day folds blurrily between classes and lunch and greenhouse visits that by the time you look up it's just about five o clock.

Burbage's office door stares down at you.

The corridor is ghostly all the way behind you and it's emptiness means it's easy to make out Oliver's heavy footsteps down the stone floor. They're not slow, in an arrogant strut, neither quick like he has somewhere to be.

He trudges. Like the weight of the world is strapping him to invisible pins in the floor. It's easy to figure that your existence doesn't lighten his load any.

You don't turn. He simply falls into place beside you, keeping a good foot distance between your tightened shoulders.

The door opens.

Charity Burbage is insufferable in the way that she forces you and Oliver to sit almost on top of each other behind a scratched up desk where she can watch you under the curtain of her ratty blond hair.

You inch the chair dramatically away from Oliver's.

She's set a stack of pages by him and a wet stamp. "Stamp these and sign the date."

Additionally, she's dropped a stack of envelopes under your nose. "Tuck and seal. When you're done, you can leave."

You eye the papers. There must be hundreds.

To Whom It May Concern,

Hogwarts would like to remind all parents and guardians that the third-years will require prior permission before being allowed to visit the nearby village of Hogsmeade--

You jump when Oliver's elbow knocks yours (more violently than what was really necessary). He holds the first page out to you silently, face dripping with impatience.

When you take the page, his thumb brushes yours.

The paper is delicate in your fingers where you fold it. You tuck and seal, and by the time you've set it aside Oliver is offering the next page to you again.

His thumb brushes yours for a second time.

You find that it does for every letter that's passed on.

It's hard not to watch him out the corner of your eye. Oliver has this dark brown, nearly black, hair that's thick and almost too long and untamed all over. It's matched by bushy eyebrows and speckled freckles over the bridge of his nose.

If you didn't hate him as much as you did, you might think he was pretty. You might think that anyway.

Time stretches until the sun is setting the classroom afire with golden light and it's boredom that causes it, or possibly a desire to hear his voice at such tight quarters, but you speak.

"You know," it's soft enough that Burbage doesn't look up from her Witch Weekly magazine. "Even if - in some act of God - Scotland qualifies for the semi-finals, Luxembourg is gonna flatten them. I mean, think about it unemotionally, Wood: they have Luca Schmit as seeker. It's really a no brainer--"

"Are y’really just stupid or are you purposefully trynna start another argument?" His gaze flickers up to eye Burbage's desk warily, she still doesn't react.

Maybe it's both. After all, the subject of the Quidditch World Cup had been what put you both there in the first place.

You shrug, unfazed by his scathing remark.

"I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Well don't."

His hand brushes yours again.

Every second Friday, generally at the tail-end of lunch, Hooch's grey barn owl swoops low over your head and drops a smaller-than-average white envelope right into your mashed potatoes. Cherry yelps in surprise every time.

Then you watch the bird drop the same over the Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables.

Good afternoon,

Reminder of Captain's meeting this afternoon in my office. Six o' clock, don't be late.

Regards,

Madam Hooch.

The letter says the same thing it has since you became captain and it's a wonder you still take the effort to break the seal on the envelope.

But come six o' clock, you're traipsing towards the west end of the castle. Lavender streaks caress the sky under the last impression of sunlight through the ornate stone arch of the corridor windows and an autumn chill creeps up your arms where your sweater isn't thick enough.

Hooch's office is in a quiet alcove, nearly impossible to find if you didn't know where to look, and the lamps are lit. Beyond the door, you can hear voices: you grin.

The door creaks noisily where you push it open. Inside it's cramped and cluttered with shelves of quidditch equipment - broken brooms, punctured quaffles and loose kits draping every open surface - but it's warm and smells like leather and is maybe your favourite little room in the whole castle.

The quidditch legend herself, Rolanda Hooch, has her legs kicked up on her desk and the boys are standing ahead of it locked in animated chatter.

She's laughing at something they said, and smiles when you enter.

"Sorry I'm late, coach."

It's nothing new and she waves you in with a smile. "Come in, poppet."

"Merlin," Marcus' shoulder finds yours and the force of the bump nearly sends you off your feet. "You'd be late to your own funeral hey, Puffers?"

You laugh, shoving him back with as much force as you can muster against the giant brute that is Slytherin captain Marcus Flint. It barely nudges him but he barks out a laugh, rough like tractor tires over crumbly concrete.

"I'm worth the wait." You quip back, leaning around Marcus to wink at Roger Davies. "Isn't that right, Rodger?"

He flirts back, "Always, sweetheart."

Roger is the antithesis of Marcus: all pale skin, blue eyes and short blonde hair. Easy on the eyes.

Oliver lingers just behind him, the tallest of the captains. You catch his eye, face slipping into something more serious, and nod. "Hey, Wood."

He nods in return, curt like how a ministry wizard's might be.

"Right," Hooch sits up straight in her high-back chair. "There are just a couple things we need to get through tonight, we won't be long."

The dynamic between the captains would be easy, if not for Oliver.

You're the only girl and that made for tough beginnings. Marcus is naturally brash and brutish, but - as you found - easy to impress with a couple showy tricks on the broom. A single promise to show him how to pull off a Woollongong Shimmy had him eating out your hand: the favour of a couple Slytherins was generally hard to buy and invaluable to a plushy Hufflepuff such as yourself.

Roger popped out the womb with a wink at the nurse. Impeccably charming and impossibly negotiable. Beyond being slightly dim, it was hard to say a bad thing about the Ravenclaw captain

On the other hand, Oliver was … well, Oliver.

Hooch tapped the sharp end of a writing feather rhythmically at a spot on her desk, eyes roving her clipboard.

"Next week we're doing a clean up of the supply room down by the pitch. I've set you each up on days, the whole team needs to be down to help unless they're excused by a teacher: I want a written letter."

She offers a piece of parchment without looking up.

"As you all know, it's the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw game next week."

You bump your elbow to Marcus'. He looks down and grins a mouthful of crooked teeth before turning to Roger. "Ready, pretty boy?"

Roger rolls crystal blue eyes, but he's smiling too. "Bring it on, tough-shit."

"Oy," Hooch interrupts them with a cool sigh, "The last thing, you all submitted your autumn practice requests for the pitch: Roger, Marcus, you have the days you want--"

They nod. Your shoulders stiffen.

"--Oliver, Y/n. You both want Wednesday afternoons. Monday afternoon is open, I'll let you two decide between each other who is gonna move their practice. I want a decision before tomorrow night."

Marcus is sniggering under his breath. The edges of your mouth sink into a frown, of course he wants the same day as me.

You can feel the heat of Oliver's eyes on the side of your face. You don't indulge him, keeping your gaze settled on Hooch's face.

"We'll figure it out, coach."

"Unlikely." Roger's quip is barely a whisper but you catch it.

"Alright." Hooch doesn't. "You're dismissed, go get some dinner kids."

The office door bounces back off the stone wall where Marcus tosses it carelessly open, echoing all the way down the empty corridor.

Frosty air chases over your face and the boys start down towards the Great Hall. Roger is complaining about a potions essay he hasn't started and Marcus is shrugging him off with a suggestion that includes something along the vein of blackmailing a sixth year into doing it for him but you can't focus long enough to follow.

"Oliver." Irritation is prickling at the surface of your skin. It flares into an almost rash when he stops walking, glancing over his shoulder with an unconcerned expression. "Who's giving Wednesday up?"

His arms fold against his chest. You're working extremely hard not to look down where his biceps stretch the seams on his Hogwarts jumper. "Well, you obviously."

Marcus barks another laugh, he calls down the corridor: "We'll see you kids at dinner."

"Yeah, don't kill each other! It's only practice!"

You huff in disbelief, unconcerned with the running commentary.

"Uh," you mirror Oliver by folding your own arms. "no it's not. Come on, we can negotiate like civil people can't we?"

Thick caterpillar eyebrows disappear beyond the overgrowth hiding his forehead. "Negotiate? I'm the one who wasted three hours of my life in detention last week thanks to your big fat mouth. Wednesday is mine."

"That was a joint effort, twat." You can feel where your throat is flush with rising anger. It wires your jaw tight. "Are you really so bloody difficult that we can't even come to a simple agreement?"

"Difficult?" His arms have shifted from his chest to perch against his hips. "Just because I'm not giving you what you want? Cry me a fucking river, darling. Sorry Puffers, but I'm not your precious Marcus or Roger. I'm not gonna fold just cause you bat yer pretty little eyelashes at me."

Pretty?

You blink in surprise. It's brushed quickly aside for more pressing matters. Your hands scrunch into fists at your side:

"Well. I'm not giving it up. I want Wednesday."

"Neither am I."

"Fuck you."

"In your dreams."

Oliver collapses loudly into the open spot at the Gryffindor dining table. His callousness knocks Archie's goblet of pumpkin juice across the shiny wooden surface between dishes of sausages and peas and roast potatoes.

"Bloody hell, what's got you in a mood?" He's patting down the table with a serviette, transforming it into a orange lump under his palm.

Shaking his head, as if it would joggle the thought of you loose, Oliver stabs a chicken drumstick from the top of a nearby pile with his fork. He doesn't respond.

"Wait, let me guess." Archie presses the elbows of his red jumper into the still wet surface beside his plate. "Something to do with your little Hufflepuff sweetheart?"

Oliver grunted around a mouthful, looking annoyed. "Not mine and not a sweetheart. A fucking brat."

Archie seems to find something funny, leaning back on the bench with a haughty laugh. "Right. What she do this time?"

"Wants the pitch the same day as me for practice." He's mumbling around a mouthful of chicken, tipping forward to shove a spoon teetering with peas alongside it. "Refuses to give in, despite the fact that she put me in detention last week with Burbage."

Shifting to the edge of his seat, Archie leans around Oliver's frame to find your figure across the Hall at the yellow-lined table. He nods, seemingly finding you. "Yeah, she don't look too happy either."

"I don't care."

Oliver is trying very hard not to give into the itch to look back.

"Whatever," Archie's gaze finds his again. "in better news ... I spoke to the twins just before dinner. They're still on for tomorrow."

He's twitching in his seat, eyebrows dancing and grinning around his words like a kid who's found a matchbox.

Right. The twins.

Specifically, Daisy and Delilah Dawson: two Ravenclaw sisters a year below Oliver.

They're peng, Archie had reasoned, you need a little fling to get your mind off quidditch. You're too strung up, mate.

And sure, they were, but Oliver had more important things to do than gallivant across Hogsmeade attached to the hip of some sixth year who just wants to earn her I Kissed The Quidditch Captain! badge.

He'd groaned and whined and glowered at the prospect. Was it petulant? Naturally, but spending five sickles on subpar hot chocolate and making false conversation with some Ravenclaw was a waste of precious time in Oliver's humble opinion.

His priorities are, as they've always been, crystal clear in his mind.

1. Win Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup 2. Refer to point (1)

There was little wiggle room for the introduction of girls into any spot on that list.

You're the only one who came almost close to the tight list. Only because if there had to be a third priority, "shove winning the cup in Hufflepuff's face" might just crack it. He thought about you significantly more than any other girl in the castle and maybe that might mean something if he thought about too long about it, but fortunately, he refused to.

Regardless, Archie was adamant and more than a little pathetic when he mentioned that Daisy only agreed to see him if he had a date for Delilah. It was all settled very quickly.

And it's in this show of loyalty to his dearest friend that Oliver finds himself walking the cobblestone path down into Hogsmeade on a crisp Saturday morning.

The little village is bustling with students - it normally is - and the crowd has him knocking shoulders with Delilah who's walking in step beside him.

He's uncomfortable to find that she's staring dreamily up at the underside of his jaw.

On Oliver's other side: Archie is talking Daisy's ear off, making another pitiful attempt at holding her hand. He doesn't quite manage it and Oliver can't tell whether it's because she genuinely doesn't notice or she just can't be arsed.

"So," Delilah's voice is light and sweet. Delicate. "You mentioned that you take Arithmancy? I've heard it's tough."

Oliver nods airily. "Yeah ... yeah, it's difficult."

He tightens his jacket closer over his frame. The wind is whipping between their bodies and he thinks that maybe she didn't hear him over it's howling if her confused expression is anything to go by. He finds he's not bothered enough to repeat it.

The entrance of Madam Puddifoot's comes into view at the end of the walkway.

Oliver’s relieved. It's freezing out here and maybe he'll be more in the mood for flirtatious conversation once he's gotten some food in his stomach (Archie had insisted they skip breakfast: we have to order something to eat, so we can sit longer).

There's a jingle of a bell overhead when Archie pushes the door open, standing awkwardly aside to let the ladies in first.

Inside the shop, it's more than busy: powdery blue walls barely visible beyond the sea of Hogwarts couples crammed around tiny circle tables and waiters in red uniform knocking the back of their chairs with wobbling trays.

There's music coming from ... somewhere, it sounds like The Weird Sisters and at the sound, Oliver can't imagine how this morning could possibly go any worse.

Oh wait, yes he can.

You could be sitting at a table right by the door across a too-small-table knocking knees with some Slytherin prick. Like you are right there right now.

Delilah tugs on his wrist, it's gentle and he almost doesn't feel where he's being lead between tables towards an open booth across the room. He falls unceremoniously down against the torn leather, eyes never leaving your table.

You haven't noticed his presence, he knows because your lips are stretching around a giggle he can't hear but can already imagine. You don't smile around him, that's for sure.

Oliver's stomach is frothing and bubbling and he's trying really hard to tune back in where Archie's knocking a menu into his hand.

Of course you're there. To ruin his mood and his day, because you're just bloody perfect at it.

"So, am I seeing you girls at the Quidditch match on Saturday?" Archie's voice carries somewhere over his head.

Delilah laughs. Or maybe it's Daisy, Oliver doesn't look.

"Maybe," she says, "Depends if Oliver's gonna be there. You're gonna be there, right?"

He feels a hand nudge at his forearm. Definitely Delilah.

His gaze floats back over the table to offer a fraction of eye contact, he nods. "Oh, uh ... yeah. Sure, definitely."

Archie saves him by speaking again and your table finds Oliver's attention just in time for him to watch the boy sitting across from you swipe away a smudge of hot chocolate over your cheek. You smile, looking bashful and a little bit flushed.

A suffocating, searing heat rushes from the soles of Oliver's feet up between his every organ and over every tendril of hair on his head. His jaw tightens.

Of course he recognises the pratt across you.

Ryo Yoshida.

Every girl in the castle's wet dream, if the rumours he's heard are anything to go by. With his fucking sleek black hair and his Japanese accent that had witches flocking to him in the dozens.

He doesn't wonder why you're here with him.

Oliver is a proud man, but even he could admit that you're beautiful. Albeit reluctantly.

With your wide wet eyes that make him a little sick in a way that turns his stomach warm and the way you do your hair and those fucking dangly earrings that clink when you loose your cool on him.

That's without even mentioning the sound of your laugh - the one he only ever overhears - and your legs in the school uniform skirt and the way you look when you're diving on your broom under the light of a sunny day.

Alright, maybe he couldn't admit to all of it ... but you were okay.

Okay enough to crack a date with Ryo Yoshida or any other schmuck in the castle if you wanted.

"Anything good to eat here, Oliver?"

He pretends he doesn't hear her at first, but the kick at his shin under the table is harder to ignore.

Archie is glaring at him across the table. Dude, don't fuck this up for me.

Oliver's eyes find Delilah. She's scooted up close under his elbow and, to be fair to the poor girl, she was pretty too. Red lipstick smeared across her smiling lips, painted nails edging closer to his arm and perfectly styled hair sitting over her shoulder.

He nods, reaching for the menu: "Yeah. Actually, last time I had the Merlin Meal and it was pretty good."

She perks up, cherry red smile widening at his reply. "Oh, I thought that looked good!"

Training his eyes on the menu, Oliver wills himself not to look back at you. You're already souring his mood and you haven't even said a bloody word.

It's just what you do. What you do to him: infuriating him with the threat of an argument around any and every corner.

The waiter comes by and Oliver finds himself generous enough to gift Delilah with an arm draped over the back of her seat. She giggles and he pretends he doesn't notice when she mouths something that looked suspiciously like 'he's so hot' to her sister across the table.

Archie seems pleased too. Daisy has granted him, finally, her hand and his arm bends at an awkward angle to maintain the grip in hers under the table. He's positively beaming.

But despite Oliver’s best efforts to stay engaged, he still catches himself - only when it's too late - and his eyes are already glued to watching the way your jeans are hugging your thighs where you shift in your seat.

Your table is sat by the door. The chime of the bell calls for his gaze every time it tolls and every time he finds you let off a violent shiver in your seat as the autumn crisp rolls over your shoulders.

The door shuts again and you still.

Oliver can feel where the tips of his ears are burning red and his bones are itching: Ryo’s black suede coat is hanging over the back of his chair.

You’re still talking - hands rubbing together, fighting for warmth - he’s leaned over with his chin in palm to listen and his jacket sits unused behind his shoulders while you fucking shiver in the breeze.

It’s pathetic, really. He’s not sure whether he’s referring to himself or you: but Oliver is still looking and you’re still shaking like a leaf and he’s halfway to flipping tables to get to you and just give you his own fucking coat so you’ll stop shaking and stop annoying him—

“Oliver was just telling me about wanting to join the Hogwarts Choir.” He turns again to find Archie waiting with an expectant face, it's laced in a little bit of smugness: caught you. "Weren't you, mate?"

When he looks back you’re gone.

There's a short pile of sickles abandoned on the table and he hopes that Ryo at least had the good sense to pay for your drink after forcing you to sit in the freezing cold.

He shakes the thought off. Who cares.

In fact, he hopes you catch a cold.

The day passes like swimming through molasses: slow and sticky and exhausting.

It's nearly seven when Oliver presses a sympathy kiss into Delilah's cheek - Daisy allows for no such thing from Archie - and the two sisters skip off down the west wing corridor with a wiggle of their fingers over their shoulders at the boys.

"I think that went well." Archie's grinning, hands on his hip and glasses edging down his brown nose.

It's the first thing that genuinely brings a jolt of life out of Oliver all day. He teeters back on his heels, hands gripping his stomach where he laughs. Laughs like a madman.

"I think you need to get yer fucking head checked, mate."

The tail end of his outburst is simmering down, now barely a breathy chuckle, when a voice washes over him from down the other end of the corridor. "Wood!"

He'd recognise that voice anywhere. From the dead of sleep or the depth of the ocean.

He's slow when he turns on his heel, the remnants of his smile dripping all the way off the edge of his jaw until he's nearly frowning.

You're jogging, scarf bouncing at your shoulder with the movement, and coming to a stop right under his chin.

"What?"

There's a sharp edge to his tone - there always is - but he really hopes you haven't noticed how the syllable wobbled at the end. Now that you're right beneath his frame and not across the room, it's harder to ignore the lashes kissing at the corner of your eyes. You're wearing lip gloss and he knows it's for Ryo.

His stomach is churning and your face is twisting into something he is struggling to recognise.

"I--" your hands wring, eyes flickering behind to where Archie's watching curiously (you wave awkwardly). "You ... you can have Wednesday."

It's not what Oliver is anticipating. He almost takes a full step back in surprise.

"Why?"

Your eyes roll in a comfortably familiar way, "Because Hooch wants an answer tonight and one of us had to be the bigger person."

His brow tightens, eyes roving down the stitching of your sweater. It's cute. He's quiet.

"You not gonna argue?" You throw your words quickly, snatching them back before he can answer: "Perfect. I'll send her an owl before bed."

You're marching back down the corridor before he has chance to say anything else and he's watching your retreating figure with the hope - that he’s not gonna address - you’re not going to cozy up somewhere in the Slytherin dorm room.

“Well.” Archie’s running a hand over his thick black curls. “That was unexpected.”

Oliver huffs. “It’s been a weird day.”

An uneasy air has settled over Hogwarts.

It came in like a storm front, drifting in on the wind that dropped the article at the door of the castle.

The same copy of The Daily Prophet has been doing the rounds between dormitories and class rooms all week: Sirius Black, Azkaban’s most infamous prisoner and recent escapee, has been sighted in Dufftown by an astute Muggle, The Daily Prophet reports.

Dufftown. A barely twenty minute ride by carriage from Hogwarts bridge.

It’s got the castle on edge, it’s got you on edge. Creeping around the castle like Sirius Black is gonna jump out from around any corner.

Dumbledore stationing dementors at the edges of the castle was the tipping point for the cold drip of trickling fear in your chest that's become easy to ignore in daylight - when Cherry and Enzo are flittering around you between classes - but in moments like these, like now, when you’re on the tail end of a quidditch practice, grow like a poisonous black vine up around every nerve in your body. A Monday night, the team’s kit weighing heavy in your arms - broomstick tucked precariously in the bend of one elbow - and following the siren call of the dormitory showers.

You’d promised the team you’d get them to the house elves before the upcoming match on Saturday. The match against Gryffindor.

But for tonight, they’re gonna live in a pile at the end of your bed.

You’re exhausted: calves burning, sweat sticking loose hairs to your forehead and probably smelling like wet socks and broomstick polish.

The touch of night is suffocating the flicker of the corridor lamps. It’s long past the recently set curfew and you know that if McGonagall finds you out you’re likely in deep enough trouble to get you off Saturday’s match roster.

Despite the prospect, you don’t dwell on it. You find you’re more worried about escaped Azkaban convicts: the echo of your own footsteps setting you further on edge.

You’ve craned your neck over your shoulder enough times to form a knot there. Each time you’re relieved to find that Sirius Black hasn’t crept up behind you.

Suddenly, the squeak of your boots against the stone floor are un-alone.

Someone is marching and right in your direction. Your heart bangs wildly on the inside of your ribcage - blood turning to an icy slurry in your veins, but you don’t move.

The corner is sharp when the figure turns into the corridor you stand and the scream is halfway out your throat when your eyes find his face.

Absent is the matted black hair and sunken eyes you’re anticipating. Instead, warm brown rings reflect the fire of the lit torches.

Your broomstick clutters to the floor, warm relief flooding down to your fingertips. “Fucking hell, Wood.”

He looks just as surprised as you. Only for a moment, though, before his gaze is tightening in annoyance again.

“I thought you were Sirius Black.“

“Well that’s stupid isn’t it.”

You huff, shifting the weight of the team’s robes precariously between your arms: squatting to try scoop up your broomstick off the floor again. You’re halfway successful when it clatters loudly back against the stone floor.

“What are you even doin’ out here so late? You know curfew is passed, don’t you?” His voice curls with something that might be mistaken for concern if you didn’t know who you were talking to.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You’re reaching down again. A robe on the top of the pile slips off, landing beside the broomstick.

“Aye right. Whatever, goodnight.”

He’s brushing past you.

In a movement neither of you anticipated, driven by the fear shooting up your spine again, your hand finds his wrist. “Wait—“

Oliver freezes: eyes dropping to where you’re connected. You rip your hand back, as if scalded.

“I …” the words mash and wrestle at the back of your throat. “Could …”

You glance down the darkened corridor awaiting you in the journey back to your dorm before meeting his face again. It’s unreadable.

His brow scrunches. “Yes?"

"Could you want me to walk my common room?”

Embarrassment sears at your cheeks. On a normal day, you’d sooner go dancing naked under the Whomping Willow before asking Oliver Wood a favour but that was before the image of Sirius Black swum behind your eyes everywhere you looked.

Oliver would be fairly useless if faced with the criminal, naturally, but at least you wouldn’t die alone.

“Please?” Your voice is quiet and you think it’s the gentlest word you’ve ever said to him.

There’s a long stretch of quiet. His eyes flicker between your face and the broomstick on the floor. It’s quickly stretching past the blurring boundaries of an appropriate time for consideration.

You’re practically melting in embarrassment now, electing to make the decision for him.

“Never mind.” You squat again, successful this time in sticking the broomstick back under your arm. The dropped robe is more difficult but you manage to replace it. “Forget I asked.”

Oliver’s moving before you’re stood straight up again. He’s reaching for your broomstick, you instinctively yank it back but he sticks you with a firm look and his thumb is unexpectedly soft where it caresses over your knuckle wrapped around the handle.

Your grip loosens and he perches the broomstick over his shoulder with ease. He surprises you again by taking half the load of laundry in your arms into his own.

“C’mon, before someone catches us out here. I’m not doing any more detention because of you.”

He’s already three feet ahead when blood rushes down to your legs, prompting them to chase after his figure. The movement is easier, lightened by Oliver’s surprise act of kindness.

You fall into step beside him, half-tempted to comment on his willingness to share your burden, but knowing him, one wrong word and he’d dump it all back into your arms.

It’s quiet.

You don’t make a move to talk and Oliver doesn’t look your way. It dawns on you that Gryffindor dormitory is in the other direction and you’re still deciding whether to feel guilty or flattered over the fact when Oliver speaks.

“Why’re you out here alone?”

You look, met with the side of his face: it’s still like he hadn’t said anything at all. There’s a tugging instinct to snap at him.

Why do you care?

But his tone is perceptibly gentle enough that you think maybe, just this once, it won’t end in an argument. You test the tepid waters.

“Uh …” your head knocks sideways, tilted as you speak. “I let the team come up early while I sorted the quaffles in the sports closet by the pitch. Didn’t want them walking up in the dark.”

You’re tempted to mention that it was his team last week that left it in such a mess. You don’t.

"And now you’re walking in the dark yourself? Smart move, princess."

Your breath hitches.

It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Princess. A couple times over the years, usually in the heat of a spiraling argument, but never so benign. While still ungentle, the tone is soft enough that it rings in your ears.

You choose not to succumb to the antagonization of his reply. Humming, you shrug. "Rather me than them."

His eyes flicker, almost barely, to the high apple of your cheek. You notice in the corner of your eye how his jaw twitches, like he wants to say something.

He seemingly decides otherwise because he focuses his eyes ahead of him and stays silent.

The overhanging ceiling art is sloping down, air going sticky with the scents of the kitchen the further you go: it’s the trademark of the approaching Hufflepuff common room.

Another two turns and it will be the end of your little journey with Oliver Wood.

"‘M surprised Ryo didn’t walk you up."

You're more surprised than you've been since finding him, eyes widening in confusion. He grants you another look out the side of his eye.

"How do you know about that?"

Oliver shrugs, shifting your broomstick to the other shoulder.

"The whole world saw your little date down at Madam Puddifoot's the other day."

Of course. Word travels faster through seventh year than a new Firebolt.

"Yeah. Well." You hum. "That's not gonna be happening again anytime soon.”

It had all been good and well. The rush of having Ryo Yoshida, Hogwart's most eligible bachelor, ask you out and - to be fair - the date had been fine. Ryo was funny and made good conversation but nothing near thrilling enough to daydream over and you'd allowed yourself to brush over a couple red flags because of it, until Cherry came bursting into your dormitory less than a day after your date relaying how he'd caught her between classes to ask her out to the same spot.

"Why's that?"

You're confused now, why Oliver cares or how he'd become curious enough to actually ask. You're even more confused as to why you decide to answer him. You shrug, "He asked Cherry out the very next day. She said no, obviously, but that was enough to let the whole thing go."

You expect him to say something malicious, quip something spiteful about What you did you think would happen? You're nowhere near in his league.

He doesn't.

"He's an idiot."

Not for the first time in the last five minutes, you're not sure what to say. You think this is the longest a conversation has gone without an argument. You sigh, "Yeah."

The stack-up of barrels comes into view. You dig into you the deep pocket on the inside of your robe, emerging with your wand.

Oliver stops, eyes flickering between the barrels and his shining black boots.

You step ahead, tapping the barrels in the rhythm that's become second-nature and the entryway opens.

Turning to him, you offer out an arm and he sets the robes back into your hands. The awkwardness is stifling. He leans forward, tucking the broomstick under your arm, hand wavering to make sure it doesn't fall again. The gesture makes the hold in your knees wobbly.

He nods. "Right. Goodnight."

You nod back, so quickly that you hear your earrings jingle. "Yeah, g'night."

Oliver turns, marching back the way you came and you watch him: biting your bottom lip so hard you're half expecting to draw blood.

"Thank you!" It leaps from your mouth before you have you moment to let it marinate on your tongue. You wince immediately.

He pauses, turning halfway on his heel. He smiles, it's not wide enough for teeth, but definitely wide enough to have your heart falling through your stomach. He nods again and then he's gone.

Saturday arrives gloomy and dripping.

It makes for good quidditch conditions, but the chill in the air is still hard to ignore when you step out into mushy grass under stadium lights. The roar of the crowd nearly deafens you, but it'll only take a couple minutes in the air for it to burn down to a soft hum.

In the middle of the stadium floor: Hooch is standing with a whistle to her lips, her figure blurred by the drizzle. Oliver stands beside her, and behind you, your team is clambering onto their brooms and rising into the air with the freshly washed kit over their backs.

You go to walk, but the icy glance Oliver is sending your way convinces you into a jog. He's always impatient before a game, itchy, antsy.

"On time as usual." Hooch hums when you land beside her.

"Got the whole bloody school waiting on her." Oliver mutters but Hooch shrugs him off, pulling the game coin out from inside her robes.

"Perfect." She positions it so we can see, "Gryffindor?"

Oliver straightens out, chest swelling: "Heads."

Hooch nods and before you can suck in another breath, the coin is in the air. She catches it with a skilled hand, flipping and revealing it to the set of captains.

"Hufflepuff, first ball!" She shouts loud enough that the floating players can hear. They nod, some groaning.

The coach turns back on the captains, "I want a fair game kids, no fighting."

"Me and Ollie? Fight?" You smile, "Never, coach."

Oliver rolls his eyes. "Yes, coach."

Suddenly you're above the pitch, sucking in breaths of wet air and struck with that familiar feeling like you could conquer the world on just your broomstick.

The quaffle flies and you stoop to catch it, twisting around Alicia Spinnet to snatch the ball before she's even noticed you're there.

Rain pelts on heads and the game goes on.

Oliver is shouting like a madman from his place in front of the goals behind you - you’ve long learnt to drown it out. He does it half to annoy his own team and half to distract yours.

You're spinning, flying, swooping and - as you predicted - the crowd has become a distant call, a blurring sight of yellow and red.

An hour passes and the game is already halfway into the next when there's a rise in the crowd. It's not the normal yells and whoops and hollers, but you still don't look up: you're calling over to Jane and Wyatt, your beaters.

“Get between the twins, and stay there!”

Below, Harry Potter and your own seeker, Cedric Diggory, are flying in circles around each other. The call of Cedric's name is on the tip of your tongue when there’s another ripple of sound off the crowd and this one draws your eyes. It’s there for a second before you find the army of figures descending on the pitch.

Your breath catches in your throat, freezing solid so you can’t swallow.

The dementors are even more ghostly this close. You'd never seen so many.

A darkness is permeating the air, the sight of the supporters in the stand dissipating into black. They’re floating in from every corner, drifting at a pace that’s too fast for you to make a move in any direction.

There’s a scream and your gaze finds the body falling through the sky: it’s Harry.

The ground is racing up to meet him and adrenaline drives your hand to tip your broom, to chase after his quickly disappearing shape when a blurry figure blocks your way.

Someone yells your name but you don’t hear it.

You’d never imagined examining a dementor, much less this up close, but even if you had: nothing your imagination could conjure up would ever come close to the harrowing darkness of its empty eye-sockets.

Its silhouette spreads over every corner of your vision, black like night and blocking the view of the sky. Your nose is so close you could tip forward and meet it's silken cloak.

A cold washes over your body like you've never felt, like you're freezing over: ice creeping up your fingertips, shoulders and face.

Your brain looses all grip on thought, replaced with a seeping dread. It barely acknowledges where a scabbed, decomposing hand is reaching out to you.

Charcoal fingertips brush your cheek when you're tugged back, all the way off your broomstick.

There's not even a last coherent thought to panic when you're engulfed in a warm chest, a hand stabilising around your waist onto a new broomstick. It dips and the green grass is reaching up to you.

The new heat engulfs you through to your bones. You grasp blindly for the expanse of a thick veined neck, wrapping yourself around him.

Digging your face into his shoulder, it takes one glance at the scarlet robes to know who it is. Oliver's panting, one hand holding you against him while the other steers the broomstick down to the floor.

You're trembling, no thought occupying any space beyond Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver--

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

The voice is distant, said against your temple but echoing as if from the end of a long corridor. You don't register where hot tears are wetting your cheeks, erupting over your face without being called.

His words prompt you closer: a tight arm furling over his shoulders and wrapping around him like a vine around an old tree.

"O-Oliver ..."

The hand over your waist tightens. "Sh ... it's fine. You're fine."

The broomstick lands shakily, Oliver's boots squelching into muddy grass. You barely realise you're back on ground when another hand is tugging you off, but you cling tighter to the sweaty red neck: shaking your wet face against his well-pressed robes.

"C'mon, princess ..." His calloused hands pry you from him, gently like you're a piece of china sitting on the very edge of a high shelf. "It's Pomfrey, she's gonna look after you."

You think you feel a kiss press into your hairline before you're being scooped up into a new set of arms. Madam Pomfrey is warm too, smelling like antiseptic and maple syrup.

There's another swell of noise erupting from the supporters above and you're being lead away.

Oliver watches your figure, slumped against the school nurse until you've disappeared into the medical tent.

His heart is going wild, slamming against the walls of his ribcage. Beside him his hands are shaking and he's sucking in thick gulps of air, he finds it still isn't enough oxygen.

There's another splatter where Angelina has landed a few feet behind him. She's panting too, tugging on the edge of his robes and pointing up into the sky.

"Wood!" She's frantic, "They won, Cedric caught the snitch!"

His mouth is dry when he swallows. Rain catches in his eye when he looks up, half the Hufflepuff team is no longer in the sky and the Gryffindors are all on their way down.

"I ..." feeling is returning to his fingertips, "is ... where's Harry?"

Angelina points in the direction of the medical tent. Above, the pitch is engulfed in a bright white light and Oliver catches the wispy end of a shining phoenix chasing between disappearing Dementors. It's a patronus. Dumbledore's, Oliver figures somewhere in his muddy brain.

"Is everyone else okay?"

Angelina nods. Her eyes flicker to the medical tent then back at him. "Is she?"

The image returns to him: the mass of darkness engulfing your figure in the sky. The terror that ripped through him like he was being torn apart from the inside, the whistle of the wind that stung over his ears and how it blocked out his mutterings of please, please, please--

He shakes his head. "She's too tough for her own good. She'll ... she'll be fine."

But it comes out like he's trying to convince himself more than Angelina.

Oliver doesn't see you for a few days.

Two, to be exact, and his skin itches the entire time. A deep itch, like it's coming from his bones.

It's only on Monday evening at dinner, with the Hufflepuff table whooping, that you come strolling back into the light of his eyes.

Your head is down, flushed with all the attention, and when you sit, kids are rising from their seats to tackle you into side hugs. He can tell you're embarrassed but he can't gather himself enough to care: the warm rush of relief flooding his stomach so much so that if he dared open his mouth it would all come rushing out.

You look fine. All limbs attached and smiling, it settles him.

He doesn't snap at Archie when he knocks his shoulder with a "you're staring" and his dinner suddenly looks more appetising when he peels his eyes off your figure down to his plate. He finds that he doesn't care as much as he usually does where Enzo's lanky arm is strung over your shoulder.

The week passes in a flurry.

While you share several classes, Oliver doesn't share a single word with you. It's hard not to notice that you're working very hard not to interact with him.

In Muggle Studies, you arrive late and keep your nose tucked deep into the pages of a textbook he knows you couldn't care less about. You're up and out of the classroom before he's even zipped up his bag. It's the same in Potions and Arithmacy.

While going days without talking to each other is not unusual, this time he can tell it’s on purpose. He pretends that he doesn't care.

The rain has cleared and when Friday arrives the sunset is red and orange and purple, granting Oliver with a rare enchanting view out his bedroom window where it's setting behind the East tower.

It's in this quiet, peaceful moment that Archie comes bouncing in with some news of a party happening in the Ravenclaw dormitory.

He's indifferent but Archie is nothing if not convincing.

"Come on, dude. You're literally a hermit crab." He sighs, falling back against his own poster bed across Oliver's. "There will be girls."

"There's girls everywhere, Arch."

His eyebrows wiggle, "And alcohol."

It takes a bit more pestering and the Weasley twins rushing in after him with the same news (and a far less patient approach) to get him up off his bed.

He digs in his cupboard for the last pair of clean jeans and a somewhat suitable purple jumper, tugging them on with a grumble, before he's being dragged by both arms - a twin on each side - across the castle to the West tower wherein resides the Ravenclaw population.

The common room is bustling with seventh years, he recognises them from all houses, and a table set up to the side with some trays of food. He's barely made himself comfortable when Katie Bell is shoving a red solo cup into his hand:

"It's Angelina's brew." She informs him.

He can believe that. The liquid is strong, burning down his throat followed by the barely there after-taste of pumpkin juice. Oliver downs the whole thing in one go.

The music swells louder and he's three cups of Angelina's concoction deep when you come tumbling through the entrance portal.

You're drunk yourself, he can tell by the way you're giggling and half leaning on Cherry Stretton. Bumping through people, not passing without leaning back to apologise to them tipsily, you head straight into the arms of Angelina and Alicia Spinnet. They smile in surprise, engulfing you in their arms.

Despite his and your long-held rivalry, it had done nothing to stop the rest of his team from sweetening up to you. The twins called you their favourite yellow tie at regular intervals and the girls found you nothing less than endearing. Oliver could lie and say he hated it.

Instead, he wrestles his way to where Katie is situated with more to drink, filling his cup and downing it.

The room is twisting in a flurry of colours and faces and it's the lightest you've felt in almost a week. You giggle against Enzo, his dreads tucked safely back in a bun while Cedric sets a Dragon-Barrel Brandy shot on fire and hands it carefully over.

Enzo's head knocks back, slipping the burning liquid down his throat with a wince. There's a cheer at his accomplishment, and suddenly Cedric's knocking your elbow: "you're next, Cap!"

After the match-gone-wrong, Madam Pomfrey had held you down in the infirmary until Monday morning. You were fed copious amounts of chocolate - in the form of bars and drinks and cakes and ice creams. By Saturday night you were - surely a couple kilograms heavier - and feeling fine, but Pomfrey was nothing if not paranoid:

"That was no light ordeal you went through, dear. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I'm happy with you."

In all honesty, you'd prefer if the whole school forgot it ever happened.

If Pomfrey didn't fret and your friends didn't come by every meal time and your team stopped sending you get better! letters and nobody mentioned it ever again.

More than anyone, you wished Oliver would forget. The ordeal, or maybe just you as a person.

You'd made a stupid decision under the heat of stadium lights and the influence of racing adrenaline, trying to chase for Harry, and he'd made a stupider decision coming to save you from yourself.

When it got quiet in the infirmary past dusk and Harry's shadowy figure was long since snoring in the bed across yours, you could feel Oliver's touch. Could feel it's strong hold wrapped around your waist and the voice against you the back of your neck and the lips at your temple.

You never reminisced long: for with his touch came the writhing, scalding fear burrowing a hole in your chest.

He could tease you, he will tease you.

Oliver had saved you from the clutches of a dementor moments from your soul being sucked out your body and you'd cried in his chest the whole time, refused to let him go in front of the whole school. It was a mortification you would never live down. And if Oliver decided he was going to use it against you, even once, you were sure you'd melt into the floor in shame.

It's what's made the Firewhiskey and Lemon squash concoction Cherry had handed you back in her room so easy to toss back. It stung and steam rose out your mouth where you'd panted for air. There was another ... and another, they went down the same.

The walk across the castle to reach the Ravenclaw Tower had been wobbly and you'd laughed with your friends loud enough to wake up the whole castle you're sure, but it dissolved the fear that clung to your bones. The fear that he was here, lingering between the people in the crowded blue common room.

Now the liquor is fading. Numbing to a dull buzz and you decline Cedric's offer at a burning shot, thinking about how proud you'll be of yourself when you wake up tomorrow morning in bed rather than wrapped around a toilet seat and hauling up guts into the bowl.

The party, not unlike yourself, is dimming.

Students are crawling away into all corners, each with their own excuse. I have a potions essay to do or No, dude, I'm too drunk for this or Flint wants us down at the pitch for drills at eight tomorrow morning, I gotta head to bed.

The crowd, though thinning, is beginning to clump into respective circles across the room. You glance annoyed at the fireplace where the flames crack merrily. Even with your short skirt and thin satin top, the heat of the common room is stifling.

Enzo is on his fourth burning shot, it's lost it's appeal to the crowd but he seems undeterred, knocking Cedric in the shoulder with the empty shot glass motioning: another! You yawn, playing mindlessly with the ruffled sleeve of your shirt.

"Oh no," A harsh tug at your hand draws you from the lure of sleep that's fogging your mind. "The night is young, no yawning!"

Cherry has your wrist in her grip, Enzo's in the other. He blinks blearily down at his friends.

"Huh?"

"Come on," Cherry's brown eyes roll far back in her head. "Fred says they're starting Seven Minutes In Heaven. Let's go join--"

"Seven minutes--?" you laugh between words, "Cher, are you mad?"

She whines, pouting like a kicked dog. "It'll be fun. Besides, when last did you have a good fucking snog? Too long, I say!"

Somehow, you're not only convinced across the room into a spot onto the floor in a circle of a couple others, but a drink has ended up in your hand and its contents quickly down your gullet.

For the nerves, you assure yourself.

Before you know it, Angelina - who's conveniently settled beside you - is topping up your plastic cup with a nearly empty bottle of Daisyroot Draught. "This is the good stuff. Katie stashed it in, her sister works at a brewery."

You smile nervously, nod, and take a tentative sip. The pre-existing buzz in your head convinces you it's not so bad.

In the circle is a couple Gryffindors you recognise, some giggling Slytherin girls, a Ravenclaw you can't name and three members of your quidditch team. There's an open spot on the side you don't take note of.

That is until Archie Kumar is steering a grumpy, visibly drunk Oliver Wood into the open place and collapsing beside him.

Your breath catches in your throat, heart sinking into your stomach like a stone. You're halfway off the floor, suddenly desperate for the loo, when Cherry - on your left side - drags you back down to the floor.

Maybe it's Katie's sister's brew, but you tumble too easily back onto your bum.

"Relax. Just don't look at him, okay?"

You suck in another breath, eyes trained on the white moon outline sewn into the rug. "Yeah ... okay."

It doesn't hold long and when you find the Gryffindor captain again, his gaze is trained on your face. It's stone cold. You gasp quietly and look away.

"Right!" George Weasley is on his feet, setting an empty Firewhisky bottle into the centre. "Who's first?"

Alicia shuffles forward on her knees, the first of the group to move, and the bottle goes spinning. It lands on the Ravenclaw boy. He grins and she does too: Fred wolf-whistles when they stand.

The "heaven" in question is a tall oak cabinet leaning against the back wall of the common room. The pair disappear into its depths and conversation rises again as the circle waits.

You sip your drink in large gulps, trying to hold conversation with Angelina against Oliver's hot gaze that's burning a hole through the side of your face. It's difficult: the Gryffindor girl is so drunk that she's talking with her eyes closed.

Seven minutes later, there's a chorus of "time's up!", Alicia and the boy emerge another ten seconds later. They're rearranging their clothes and Alicia is as scarlet as her quidditch robes. The boy is grinning like the cat who caught the canary. You're suddenly struck with the violent urge to throw up.

The game goes on like that, round after round. Lee Jordan and Jane Emmet (your beater), Katie and Wyatt (your other beater), Cherry and a pretty Slytherin girl you don't know - she's especially chuffed when she returns, red lipstick smeared over her chin.

You're working very hard not to look at Oliver, much less think about him, but it's proving difficult. Every time the bottle takes its spin, your stomach churns.

It had occurred to you during the time that Alicia and that boy were in the closet that there was a very real chance that Oliver could be called up when one of those pretty Slytherins take their turn at the bottle. The thought had made you down the last of your drink and immediately want to vomit it all back up into your cup.

The image of their slender arms curling around his criminally wide-set shoulders, Oliver pushing them back against the inside wall of the grand closet. Would he make noise? Would he sigh or groan against their lips or whisper something about how beautiful they looked tonight in their ears--

"Ollie, you're up mate."

You can't remember who said it, but the words stripped your gaze off Angelina and straight into the pooling brown eyes you'd been avoiding all week long.

He sighed, grumbling under his breath and only with a less-than-gentle nudge from Archie, did he lean up on thighs that flexed unfairly -- bloody hell, stop it! -- and wrap his hand over the neck of the bottle: it went spinning.

The only sound you could hear was the twist of the glass against the woven rug and the hum of your own blood rushing past your ears. It stopped.

"No fucking ways." Enzo cracked from two people down.

A hand landed on your shoulder, shaking you half off your arse: Angelina. "You're up, babe! Go!"

The bottle was pointing irrefutably at your little spot in the circle.

Oliver's face was as white as you'd ever seen it when you dared look up.

"I-I'm not going in with him--" It was the first thing that came to your mind and went spluttering out your mouth.

George was laughing so hard that he'd fallen all the way onto his back. The roar of the group was ear-splitting.

"There's no ways I'm going in with her!"

"Let's end this feud once and for all," Katie bellowed over their heads. "Captain versus captain!"

You're being knocked from all sides, hands crawling under your arms and lifting you off the floor. Across the circle, Oliver is experiencing the same and before you know it: the wooden doors of the cabinet are creaking open.

"Go on!" Lee's finger is piercing your side.

Oliver is beside you but you won't look. You take one last look over your shoulder at Cherry back on the floor, she does nothing but offer a sympathetic shrug and mouths "sorry, dear".

Your hand reaches before Oliver's, flinging the door open with maybe a little too much force. It bangs against the wall behind it.

"Let's get this over with." You mumble, only half concerned that he heard you.

You slouch climbing in, the top is low and the space is even more cramped than what you assumed. To your surprise, Oliver is stepping in after you. He takes his turn at slamming the door, shutting it this time.

It's dark inside, but not enough that you can't see. Light is peaking in through the cracks and he's leaned back against the opposite wall to you.

In the narrow space, your legs are twisting around each other to stand: his one knee situated between yours. In the dimness, he folds his arms and you notice for the first time the jumper he's wearing. The purple one, you recognise it as the one he's had for years. Time has taken its toll where the jumper is clinging to life around his frame, Oliver having grown at least three times wider while the jumper has remained the same size.

"Go on, Wood, give her a kiss!"

The voice is unrecognisable but it knocks your tongue back into your mouth where you'd been ogling at his torso.

His arms are folded, proffering you with a glare that could cut through steel. He makes no visible sign that he'd heard the shout at all. You mirror him, folding your own arms.

"I'm not kissing you."

His head cocks. "Oh, so you're talking to me now?"

You suck in a sharp breath. It's not the response you're anticipating. "What?"

"So we're playing dumb?" He leans just a fraction closer. You can smell the linger of alcohol on his breath, but it doesn't work hard enough to drown out the smell of peppermint that follows him around. "Doesn't suit you, princess."

"I'm not playing anything. I don't know what you're talking about." You double down. It's probably not sustainable but the heat of his body almost against yours and the thrum of liquor in your blood makes the decision for you.

"Y've been avoiding me all week."

"I haven't"

"You're a bad liar."

You swallow hard. Embarrassment is rising again, making your head spin. Oliver's chest is puffed up in anger, you can tell because you've had five years to learn the look like the back of your hand. Except, now - as it has been for a longer time than you care to admit - it's harder to focus on the waves of fury reflecting off of him when his face is just so ... beautiful. Nose scrunched and lips pulled tight into a grimace.

It's what makes you change tactics, you think.

"So what if I was? Why does it matter?"

His arms unfold, eyes rolling so far that his head knocks back against the wood of the cupboard.

"Why?" you press, "Did you miss me, Wood?"

"Maybe I did."

He's looking at you again. For what feels like the hundredth time just tonight, your breath escapes you in a rush and your lungs struggle to grasp back at it. Your face softens without meaning to.

You blink at him.

"You did?" It's a whisper.

His arms are still folded but something clement passes like a shadow over his features.

"No."

His face betrays his words, eyes soft and lip daring to curl up at the edge.

The air in the tight space goes cold. Or maybe it's your blood. It's more likely the look on Oliver's face: like he hasn't just turned your organs to slush. You're all the way sober now.

"I'm not kissing you." You repeat dumbly, but it's gentle.

Merlin, you want to kiss him so fucking badly.

"You mentioned." He's almost, almost, smiling. It's gentle too.

The space between you falls quiet. You're suddenly overly focused on the brush of his knee between yours. His swirling brown eyes catch on the split of light creeping in past the hinge on the door.

It stays like that until your voice creeps nervously out. "I was embarrassed. Am, I am embarrassed."

A thick brow tightens in confusion. "Why?"

You huff, almost annoyed. Your eyes train on a dark spot by your intertwined feet. "Come on, Wood."

"What, about the match?" The alcohol thickens his accent.

Your silence seems to answer his question. The apples of your cheeks are warming again.

"What was I supposed to do, leave you to have you bloody soul sucked out yer body?" His voice is rising, "No, princess, I'm not apologising for that."

It's an outpour that you're not expecting. Oliver's clearly in the mood to shock and surprise tonight.

Your lips tighten around the words that are all fighting for the spot at the tip of your tongue. Silence reigns while they argue, he's still watching you with exasperation set into the lines of his face.

"Princess." You settle.

His expression twists again. "What?"

"You always call me that. Why?" It's a question that you buried long ago. But his proximity, in conjunction with the night you've had, unearths it.

It's his turn to look surprised. He grumbles some indiscernable Scottish blabber before-- "It's because y'are a princess. Spoilt and bratty. Always gets her way."

There's no malice to his response, you find. It draws a chuckle from the depths of your chest.

"Aye, right." You mimic his accent and his quip, one he's used many times at you.

He laughs. It's not a sound you hear often and it's setting your whole nervous system alight like a tangled bunch of christmas lights. His whole body's shaking with it, head resting back against the wood again, and you really do think you might grab him and kiss him -- when the door flies open again: seeping his whole body in yellow light.

Alicia's standing at the opening, grin wide as night is wide and clearly expectant on catching you with your tongues down each other's throats.

If she'd given you another three seconds she just might have.

"Oh." She slumps in disappointment, looking back over her shoulder and shaking her head to the expectant crowd. They groan collectively. "Well, love birds, your time is up."

You'd almost forgotten where you were. Oliver clears his throat, the ghost of his laugh impossible to find on his face, and clambers over your legs out into the common room again. He doesn't pass without brushing his hand over yours.

It's nearly three in the morning when Enzo finally lets up.

His long legs are sprawled across the midnight blue couch in the middle of the common room. Fiona, a lovely Ravenclaw girl you'd met just tonight, shrugs at you: "Don't stress it. He can crash here tonight."

The party is long since dead. Seven Minutes In Heaven had looped another three rounds before everyone had gotten their chance in the dusty cupboard and began to grumble in boredom.

You'd avoided Oliver's eyes the whole time again, sure that if you looked he'd be able to read the fondness on your face.

It wasn't long after that the last of the students dissolved in the direction of their respective bedrooms. With your dear friend in good hands with the Ravenclaws, you loop your arm with Cherry - knocking against her side towards the portal.

You've barely pushed it ajar when she breaks off you, "Hold on, I need to get my Transfig notes from Jacob!"

"Cher, it's three in the morning?"

Alcohol is directing her legs in the opposite direction clumsily, "I'll wake him. If I fail another quiz, Mcgee's gonna have my arse."

She's gone before she catches your call: "I'll find you outside!"

The portal creaks where you shove it open again. The corridor is dimly lit and colder than the common room and a shiver chases up your exposed legs.

"Bloody hell." You run a hand over your forearms.

It's quiet too, and empty besides the Gryffindor captain leaning against the stone wall closest to the entrance you've just emerged from.

"Merlin," your eyes find his. "Not you again."

The flush over your cheeks is warding off the chill.

Oliver shrugs. "Me again."

An awkward silence permeates. Against better judgement, you shuffle forward, leaning against the wall beside him. He doesn't react, arms folded and staring into the inky abyss of the corridor leading out to the rest of the castle.

"Why're you out here?" You ask, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

"Archie." He huffs out, voice wrapped in annoyance. "He's in there with Penelope. I gave him ten minutes."

Ah, Penelope Clearwater. She'd joined the game in the last round. A good thing too because Oliver's friend was looking more crestfallen as the bottle spun again and again, surpassing him each time. Penelope had taken the last turn, ending up with her hair in every direction and Archie's spectacles leaning half off his face when they emerged from the cupboard.

"You?"

The eddy of average conversation is strange, but you find you like it.

"Cherry." You hum. "Something about quiz notes."

He drops his head back against the wall.

"That what they calling it now?"

It startles you, head tilting to stare up at the side of his face with a grin: "oh, Wood’s got jokes now? I didn’t know it was possible for you to make a joke."

His eyes flutter shut, a twinkle of laughter bubbling out of his frame. Tucking his head down to his chest, he shrugs against his own light chuckle. "I have them. I just don’t share them with you."

You giggle back at him. "Right. Well then you better stop smiling there, someone might walk past and think we’re friends."

He shakes his head, the sound of his snicker fading but leaving behind the imprint of a smile. "Nobody’s gonna think that."

You lean back again, eyes drifting over the low ceiling. Quiet falls again - not uncomfortable - and you let it linger for a moment. A thought tugs on a loose string in your mind, not a new one, but one you’ve carefully buried over time.

It comes falling out your mouth. "You ever think about how it might be ... if things were different?"

The question grants you a look out the side of his eye. "Different?"

"Y’know," you shrug, the very last remains of alcohol are ebbing and unsureness is replacing where it stood. "If we … we had—"

"If you hadn’t suckered me in the bloody nose?" His words are unexpectedly fond.

You laugh at him, "If you hadn’t deserved to be suckered in the bloody nose."

He draws in a long breath, not answering. It prompts you.

"We could have been friends." You whisper, more to your chest than to him really.

But he hears it. "We would never be friends."

It stings sharper than it should. Your shoulders go stiff and the corners of your eyes sting inexplicably, turning the corridor blurry. A dying fire revives in your chest, blistering the cave, reminding you why Oliver Wood has been nothing but a stake in your side since you were thirteen years old.

"Of course. How stupid of me, for a minute I forgot what an absolute arsehole you are." You push off the wall, intent in going to dig out Cherry from the depths of the Ravenclaw dormitory. "Goodnight, Wood."

An arm wraps around your waist, not unlike it'd done a week ago in the air of the quidditch pitch, lurching you into him until you're pressed back against the cool stone of the corridor wall.

Oliver looms over you, crouched so that your nose bumps against his. "Don't sulk, princess."

It all happens at once: his hands grab onto the fat of your hips, digging in there like he really does hate you, and lips crash against yours like maybe he doesn't at all.

He stays there, unmoving for a second that feels a year long.

Where the inside of your brain had been buzzing with runaway threads of thought, ribbons streaking out in all directions: they disappear in a sizzling light. Oliver Wood is kissing me.

You melt against him, tipping up onto your toes and latch onto muscled shoulders. He seemingly takes that as his cue, pressing you closer against his body with his arm - lifting you half off the wall.

He tastes like the remnants of Firewhisky and pumpkin juice, the flavour setting every nerve ending in your body on fire. Lips soft but persistent while his hands grip onto you like you'd dissolve into dust if he didn't.

It's aggressive, but familiar in that way. Oliver is nothing if not hot-blooded and his touch, darting between your hips and your face is turning you tipsy again.

"If you want a friend," It's muffled when he speaks, punctuating his words with hot wet kisses, "go be friends with Ryo."

It's only in this moment, with his desperation mirroring in the glimpses of sugar brown irises you catch where he's fluttering his eyes over your face, that it dawns on you.

"Jealous much?"

He growls lowly and it makes you giggle against him, your hands slithering up into the hairs at the base of his neck. Oliver shakes his head against you, still huffing in disbelief.

"Shut up." It's accent-heavy and bleeds a hole through the bottom of your stomach. "You're such a fucking brat."

"And you're a fucking prick."

He huffs lowly, you press harder to him: solidifying the sentiment. Somehow the bickering makes it all sweeter, like you're dissolving cotton candy against your tongue where his swoops over it.

You'd just about forgotten where you were when a creak echoes down the corridor. Halfway to ignoring it in favour of Oliver's touch, your situation dawns on you in the same moment it does him.

Like you'd both licked the end of a live wire, you and Oliver jolt back a foot, hands diving to your respective sides.

Cherry is standing against the light of the common room behind her, a lanky Archie parked beside her. Their eyes are wide and Cherry's hand is against her jaw in shock.

"Oh my god." She mumbles against it.

Blood is rushing to your face and out the corner of your eye, Oliver is running a hand over the hair that's sticking in all directions from the influence of your fingers.

Cherry is laughing breathily, eyes still wide and white in surprise. "Oh my god."

Archie's eyes are flickering between you and Oliver.

"Sorry to interrupt." He says, a smirk curling onto his features.

It jumpstarts your entire system. You step forward, grabbing Cherry by the arm.

"Well," you nod at Archie and at Oliver, not daring to meet his eyes, "goodnight then."

You march with fervour, half-dragging her in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room until your figure disappears behind the next corridor.

Oliver stands with his hands hanging at his side dumbly. He swipes a finger of his bottom lip, still tasting the strawberry lip gloss you'd left there.

"Can't say I didn't see this coming, mate." A hand claps over his shoulder.

He groans, running both hands over his face, and Archie shakes him lightly.

"So ... how was it?"

With another groan, Oliver shoves Archie's hand off of him. "Bloody hell, Arch."

Archie throws his head of curly black hair back, laughing so loud it bounces off the wall. "That good, huh?"

(part two/final part)

don't forget to comment and repost if you enjoyed :)

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hearts4johnwick · 4 months ago

Text

— CASUAL.

SUMMARY. you’re mad at tyler after an argument, he decides to win you over by bringing in your favorite food and taking you to a rodeo, when you think that his charm was working, an EF-4 tornado strikes.

WARNINGS. angst (happy ending though), tornado attack.

WORD COUNT. 1.2k

you were lying down in your bed, attempting to go to sleep or at least take a nap given that it was 8:21 p.m. you found yourself staring at the ceiling, listening to the music and people singing outside.

you can’t help but toss and turn around as you overthink about the argument you had with tyler. tyler was your best friend, childhood neighbor, situationship, you don’t even know at this point. and although tyler and you were always risk takers, some risks are too hard for you to handle, but boone and tyler are a dangerous duo.

when you graduated high school you went straight to college and studied meteorology, you didn’t waste another second of your life and did everything that it took to where you are now. but, tyler and you were separated for college, you were halfway across the country while he stayed in his hometown. but when you graduated college, you went back home.

the both of you caught up on everything each other missed, and next thing you know, you ended up joining tyler’s storm-chasing team, the thing is, by something that happened to you in the past, you always rode alongside Dexter and Dani, there were moments where you rode with tyler, but you were always harnassed up even if you weren’t inside the tornado yet.

your train of thoughts were so rudely interrupted by the knock at your door. you sit up and take a breath before walking over to the door. before opening it, you were thinking to yourself that maybe it was going to be your mother, or your sister, not tyler owens. he sees the expression on your face and smiles, attempting to cheer you up.

“hey…” your nose flares, he notices and chuckles. “i brought your favorite… Tina Mae’s chocolate pie…” he hands it over to you and you take it. “maybe if you let me in we can sha—“ his words were cut off by the door slamming on his face. his eyebrows raised and he froze.

you put the pie on the desk next to your bed and open the bag, and it is indeed your favorite chocolate pie. you smile to yourself and head back to the door, as expected, tyler was still there.

“if you think you’re always gonna take me back with my favorite food, you’re wrong.” i inhale sharply and tap on the door.

“well, i wanted to do it another way if you’d let me show you…” you raise your eyebrows and cringe. “no—no, not like that, well…” he cocks an eyebrow and glances at you, you were about to close the door again but he stops it. “no, hey, i’m serious. get changed i want to take you somewhere.” he smiles. you hum and close the door gently so you can get changed.

“you can’t be serious. do you want me to forgive you or hate you more, tyler owens?” you say as you take your seats in the rodeo’s benches.

“bit of both.” he smiles, and you chuckle whilst shaking your head. “look, y/n, i’m sorry.”

“you’re apologizing here? rea—“ tyler touches your knee softly, cutting you off.

“i’m sorry, sorry for what i said earlier. i shouldn’t have said those things. you’ve been through so many things i can’t even begin to imagine, and it wasn’t my place to say anything about that. you know i would never do anything to hurt you, i am sorry.” the soft glow in his eye made you feel the truth he was saying. you nod and smile.

“and why would you ever think i wouldn’t forgive you?” tyler smiles at your words and so do you. “i think i should be the one apologizing, i tried to stop you from doing something you gave years of experience, and that was out of place and overprotective and unnecessary.”

“no, no, it’s okay. you of all people know about these stupid risks i take, i was a bull rider for God’s sake! I know you hated that.” you laugh.

“yeah, i think i hated that more than storm chasing.” he chuckles and glances at you, there was a small silence until you broke it. “i just… i don’t want to lose you, ty.”

“you’re never going to lose me.” you look over at him, your eyes stinging as you feel some tears coming. he wraps an arm around you and holds you. “you won’t.” he reassures you nod and after a while, let go.

“you and that stupid face…” you look away, trying to hide a smile.

“wait what?”

“every time i was cleaning blood off of you, whenever you got knocked off your bull, you would always make that stupid face, or like look at me some way like you were trying to get me to kiss you.” he raises an eyebrow and you look at him again.

“oh, you mean my charm? i already come with it, it’s not something i do on command.” you roll your eyes and click your tongue.

“well, “your charm” has never worked on me. never has, never will.” the two of you share a soft smile, all while maintaining that potent eye contact.

you don’t know if it was the tension, but you had sudden goosebumps and started getting chilly. although your hair was in a ponytail, your bangs were getting in the way, you never took your eyes off of tyler’s but you could see his hair starting to get messy too.

“well, i don’t know about you but, i think it’s working pretty well now.” he moves the strands of hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear before cupping your cheeks.

“about time.” you manage to let out seconds before his lips are on yours. your heart was racing the whole time, but you felt it could come out of your chest any second now.

the kiss started slow and gentle, but the moment you smiled into it, tyler deepened the kiss, you placed your hand behind his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, which made you notice how much his hair was moving around, as much as it pained you doing it, you pulled away and saw people walking away from the stands. you look around and pick up a leaf from the ground.

tyler notices and the two of you exchange a look. you both stand up and head for shelter, you feel the winds get stronger and that’s when you start to run, helping some people who have tripped along the way, but not wasting more than a second.

tyler and you managed to find a motel and in that motel an empty pool, where you sought shelter until the tornado passed over you. at that moment tyler had to help a man that had twisted his ankle, and a vending machine was blocking his way, due to the man panicking, he was gone.

tyler hid with you and another family of a mother and her daughter. the grip you had on tyler and that he had on you was like no other. you felt tyler plant kisses on your head to calm you down as you felt the tornado right above you, you held onto some pipes and his arms tightly, fearing for your life at that very moment.

when the tornado passed, you didn’t even want to let go of tyler, you hugged him and stayed with his arm wrapped around you the whole night, even when you shared your bed with him.

❛i know, “baby, no attachment.” but we’re… ❜

i have a ‘Twisters’ fic on wattpad if y’all wanna check it out! https://www.wattpad.com/story/374563132?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=hearts4johnwick ᥫ᭡

#tyler owens #glen powell #twisters #tyler owens x reader #glen powell x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #glen powell fanfic #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader

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shockercoco · 21 days ago

Text

Nothing Like Honey

Tyler Owens x reader

warnings - 18+, smut, aphrodisiac, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetration, ig premature orgasm?, some swearing

word count - 4126 (idk how lol)

a/n - this is my first Kinktober as a writer, and I was gonna skip it bc of my schoolwork, but there's no way I'm gonna miss out. I haven't posted in a month and college is taking all of my energy with all the writing i'm doing. also disclaimer: I've never tried honey packets so idk if they actually work lol. thx for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

“You can’t say no without even seeing what it is first,” Boone smiles.

You, Boone, and Tyler were sitting in a booth at the bar, celebrating after a good day of chasing. Dani and Lily were off somewhere beating Dexter in darts. The bar is noisy and pretty crowded for somewhere so rural, but you got lucky and found a quiet booth in the corner.

“With you, yeah I can,” Tyler laughs, before taking a sip from the beer bottle and placing it back down.

“Just look at what it is before you make a decision,” Boone rolls his eyes. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve two small packets and places them on the table.

Your eyes widen. “Is that what I think it is?” you ask, leaning forward to get a better look.

“It sure is,” Boone nods. He smirks, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back into the booth.

Tyler looks between the two of you, confused, before asking, “Okay, what am I missing here?”

You look up at Tyler. “They’re uh…,” you begin, but trail off. You then look over at Boone, silently telling him to answer for you.

“They’re horny packets,” Boone smiles proudly.

“Honey packets,” you correct him, sending him a playful glare.

Boone waves you off. “Same thing.”

Tyler reaches the hand that wasn’t resting on the booth behind you to grab one of the packets. “And what exactly do these honey packets do?” Tyler questions, his eyebrows furrowed as he turns the packet over in his hand.

“Like I said, they make you horny. They’re like an aphrodisiac so they’re supposed to take everything to the next level. If you know what I mean,” Boone wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” Tyler looks at him in disgust, but you just laugh. If you hadn’t known Boone for almost as long as Tyler, you’d be disgusted too, but you’re used to his antics.

“What, man? I’m just keeping it real,” Boone raises his hands in surrender.

“And do they actually work?” you ask.

“Believe me, they work,” Boone gives you a look. You let out another laugh, and this time Boone joins you.

“What do we do with it?” Tyler asks, still eyeing the packet.

“Just take the packet and wait for everything to kick in,” Boone says, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

Tyler squints. “Where the hell do you get these kinds of things from?” asks Tyler, not too surprised since Boone is always showing him something new.

“A magician never reveals his secret,” Boone playfully shrugs, causing Tyler to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” Boone leans down to rub his shin.

“You’ll be okay,” Tyler tells him, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Do you guys want these or not? There’s no need to harass me,” Boone looks between you and Tyler. You look up at Tyler, and he looks back at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Your choice,” Tyler shrugs.

You contemplate for a moment, before nodding and looking over at Boone. “We’ll do it.”

“Alright!” Boone claps his hand.

Ten minutes later, the packets are in your system, and you and Tyler decide to call it a night. Tyler heads to the bar to pay his tab and you follow behind him. You normally don’t like to hover, but the bartender has been making eyes at him all night.

“Gone so soon?” the bartender asks with a tempting smile and a tilt of her head, a cowboy hat placed on top.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler nods, giving her a kind smile as he hands her his card. You watch her return the smile before heading off to close his tab.

When Tyler turns his head to look at you, you give him a smile. Tyler knows it’s a fake one which is why he sends you a smirk before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Well, I sure do hope I see you back in here soon,” the bartender says as she comes back to hand him his card and receipt, leaning against the counter to show off her breasts in the process. You turn your head so she doesn’t see you roll your eyes. This also makes you miss her eyeing Tyler’s arm around you.

Tyler gives her a quick thank you before walking off with you under his arm. You run into Lily right in front of the entrance who looks disappointed when she sees you and Tyler leaving.

“Already?” Lily pouts. “You’re really going to leave me here with the others?”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle,” you laugh at her reaction, quickly leaning in to give her a hug.

“Tell the others we said goodnight, will you,” Tyler tells her. She nods before telling you and Tyler goodnight and walking away.

“Where are you two lovebirds going?” you hear Boone call from behind you, as you and Tyler walk to his truck.

“It’s late, Boone,” Tyler calls back, not turning to look back at him.

“Is that the only reason?” you hear Boone’s voice coming closer as Tyler opens his passenger door for you to enter. You can hear the suggestiveness in his tone.

“Goodnight, Boone,” Tyler rolls his eyes, as he watches you get in.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me about your private life,” Boone says, a smile evident in his voice.

You stick your head back out to see Boone laughing. You let out a giggle as you call out, “Goodnight!”

Tyler playfully shoves your head back into the truck, before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

“Don’t make me run you over,” you hear Tyler tell Boone, before he opens the door and climbs in beside you. Boone sends you a wave, before heading back inside the bar while Tyler pulls out of the parking lot.

“Was that jealousy I saw back there?” Tyler asks you as he starts the drive back home.

“What?” you innocently ask as you look out the window at the land zooming by, the sun almost completely set.

“Oh, okay you want me to say it,” he teases, but you don’t turn your head.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I turned this truck around and reopened my tab with that flirty bartender then would you?”

That makes you turn your head. “I dare you, Owens.”

“So you do know what I’m talking about,” Tyler quickly glances over at you with his eyebrows raised and a playful smile on your lips, before turning his attention back to the road. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console, your favorite position. Although, it seems even more attractive at the moment for some reason.

There’s no way those packets actually work.

“Just keep driving,” you mumble, crossing your arms and looking away again in the process.

Tyler chuckles as he moves the hand on the center console onto your thigh, giving it a small squeeze. You feel warmth spread through your bottom half at the action.

Yeah, there’s no way.

“No need to get embarrassed, sweetheart. You know I love when you act like that.”

Little did you know, Tyler was feeling odd too.

When Tyler pulls in front of the house, you wait for him to open your door as always. You begin making your way to the front door, but Tyler grabs your hand and pulls you back, causing your bag to collide with the truck door. Tyler takes a step closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

“What, no thank you?” he asks, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Like you deserve it,” you joke and make a move to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you budge.

“Is that so?” he questions as he nudges his face into your neck. You let out a squeal as you begin feeling his fingers dig into your sides.

“Don’t you dare tickle me,” you laugh as you try to move his hands away from you.

“Why not?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck as he laughs. His fingers begin to move again.

“Tyler!” you jump. Tyler laughs again.

You place your hands onto his chest and somehow manage to pry yourself out of his hands. “Behave yourself,” you laugh.

“Sorry, darling, I wish I could,” Tyler tells as he pulls you away and gives you a look.

“What do you mean?” you ask. Tyler doesn’t answer, he just quickly looks down before looking back at you, silently telling you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows.

“What, you’re telling me you don’t feel anything?” he asks.

Now it’s your turn to be silent. You feel your face heat up as you avoid his gaze and look past him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug, folding your arms across your chest. Tyler moves his head into your line of sight, giving you a look that says he knows you’re full of shit. “Okay, fine. I do. I just didn’t expect it to…y’know…actually work.”

“Neither did I, but look at us now,” Tyler says.

“What do you mean ‘us’?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking down at the bulge in his pants before looking back into his eyes. You let out a small laugh. “Seems like you have a bigger problem than me pal. No pun intended of course.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Tyler playfully rolls his eyes before tightening his grip on you. “I’m not sure why you’re laughing, though, you’re the one that’s going to help me fix this.”

“No self control, huh?” you tease, and Tyler glares down at you. “Relax, it’ll wear off soon.”

It did not wear off anytime soon.

Tyler followed you around like a lost puppy as you moved about the house. Inside the bedroom right when you were just feeling like you could control the overwhelming feeling in your lower half, Tyler came up behind you in the bathroom.

His eyes meet yours as he wraps his arms around you and presses his front against your back, trapping you between him and the bathroom sink. The bulge in his jeans pressed against your backside, making you throb.

“How about we just cut to the chase and get this over with, huh?” Tyler whispers into your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but lean into his touch and subconsciously tilt your head to give him more access to your neck.

“We have to get up early in the morning. We’re meeting with everyone to discuss the potential storms, remember?” you try to remind him.

“They can just fill us in after,” Tyler mumbles as he begins to place soft kisses on your favorite area on your neck, right below your ear.

He notices the goosebumps forming on your arms as his fingers run up and down them. You feel the small smirk forming on his lips as he continues his trail of kisses on your neck. You allow your eyes to close for a moment, enjoying the sensations, before opening them and meeting his eyes through the mirror once again.

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” you tell him, your resolve quickly diminishing.

“Come on, sweetheart. You want this just as much as I do,” says Tyler.

“I don’t know,” you pretend to contemplate, “I think I’ll be okay.”

Tyler doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises a daring eyebrow at you, not believing you for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand. You just give him an innocent smile in return.

You then begin to feel Tyler’s hands abandon your arms and land on your waist, one of them traveling further south. His fingers make their way to the waistband of the jeans you have yet to take off. Your smile fathers and your breath hitches at the ticklish feeling. His movements are purposely slow, wanting you to crack as soon as possible.

Tyler lifts his head from your neck, so he gets a good look at your face when he asks:

“So you’re saying if I move my hand a little further down, I won’t feel your wetness soaking those pretty little panties of yours?” Tyler questions. His bold wording catches you off guard, making you shift slightly in his hold, your throat starting to feel dry. “What? Nothing to say?”

“Why don’t you find out?” you quip, somehow finding your voice again.

Tyler gives you a knowing smile before swiftly unbuttoning your jeans and moving his hand inside, his other hand still firm on your waist. You look down and watch as he wastes no time and dips his hand into your panties, quickly bumping into your clit, making you jump.

Tyler breathes out a laugh before continuing and easily finding the wetness he already knew was there. He runs a finger through your sticky folds, his hand trapped between your ruined panties and your pussy.

Your hands instinctively grab onto his forearms. A small moan escapes your lips as you try to keep your hips from bucking into his hand.

“Well, what do we have here?” Tyler smirks. “Just as I thought, she’s eager for me.”

You hate the fact that you love when Tyler refers to your pussy as a she.

Tyler moves his finger back up to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bud. You both know it’s not enough to get you off, but it’s enough to turn you on more – and it does. You let your head fall against his chest as your hands tighten on his arms. Tyler moves his head back into your neck, hovering his lips right over your ear.

“All you had to do was say something, baby. Y’know I always take care of you,” he whispers into your ear, his tone condescending.

He suddenly adds a bit more pressure to clit, causing your hips to involuntarily buck into his hand. You can feel your legs beginning to shake, the honey packet causing you to be sensitive. You bite your lip to keep the sounds rising in your throat at bay. His unoccupied hand leaves your hip and moves to your waist, keeping you against him.

“Don’t be like that, there’s no need to keep those pretty little noises away from me. All you have to do is admit that this is what you wanted this whole time and I’ll give you what you want.”

You send Tyler a glare through the mirror, causing him to chuckle, the rumble in his chest vibrating through your body. You really don’t want to give in that easily, even though your body is saying otherwise.

Tyler starts kissing behind your ear again. “You know you want to.”

Tyler removes some of the pressure on your clit, his movements turning gentle – which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

“Fuck, okay. Fine,” you breathe out.

“Okay what?” Tyler smirks, pretending to be confused.

“Fuck you,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

Tyler’s voice drops an octave. “Oh, darling, I will. As soon as you tell me what I want to hear.”

Your body betrays you, allowing a shiver to run through you.

“This is what I wanted,” you mumble.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tyler asks.

“This is what I wanted!” you repeat louder this time.

“I don’t like the attitude in your voice, but I’ll let it slide,” Tyler tells you.

He pulls away and removes his hands from your panties, sticking the wet fingers into his mouth. You slightly frown at the loss of his touch, your body suddenly feeling cold.

“Let’s get started then,” he gives you his charming smile, which at the moment makes you want to slap him, before bending and lifting you into his arms. You let out a small yelp as your feet leave the ground.

He carries you into the bedroom and tosses you onto the bed. The two of you can’t seem to undress fast enough, tugging and tossing articles of clothing here and there. You’re pretty sure he tossed his shirt perfectly into the hamper in the far corner of the room, but at the moment you don’t care.

Tyler moves to hover his naked body over you, quickly attaching his lips to yours. It’s rough and needy, neither of you wanting to pull away for air. Both of you are panting. He shoves his tongue through your lips, haphazardly moving around your mouth.

You pull away just a tad to wrap your lips around his tongue, gently sucking. Tyler’s hardened cock twitches against your abdomen as he breathes out a moan. Your lips curve into a smile at the noise. His hips begin to grind against yours, allowing you to feel the precum dripping from his slit onto your abdomen.

Tyler pulls away and moves his lips to your collarbone. He begins a trail of kisses, going through the valley between your breasts, stopping to give each nipple some love, before continuing on his way. Your back arches into his touch and you feel yourself throb as heat blooms in your stomach.

He goes all the way down your body, pulling your legs down with him as he kneels in front of the bed, coming face to face with your center. He grunts as he gives his poor, leaking cock a few tugs.

“Y’know, we could’ve been doing this 20 minutes ago, but you wanted to play games,” Tyler tells you, his breath hitting your exposed pussy as he speaks.

You go to rebuttal, but words instantly leave your mouth as Tyler runs a finger through your dripping folds, then spreads your lips apart for better access. A whine leaves your lips instead as your hips buck towards his face. He gently blows air onto your sensitive pussy, causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing and your body to jerk. Tyler notices and smiles to himself at the sight, deciding to do it once more for the hell of it. Your body jerks again.

“Look who’s playing games now,” you point out, holding your body up with your elbows in order to get a good view of him. Your expression is mixed with frustration and desperation.

Tyler chuckles, his eyes never leaving your pussy. “Not for long.”

With that, he dives into you, dragging his tongue through your lips. He quickly dips the tip of his tongue inside of you before pulling back out and attaching his lips to your clit. Your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you, your mouth falling open in a gasp as his tongue flicks against the sensitive bud. Tyler’s grip on you tightens when he feels your hips buck into his face once again.

Your head tilts back in pleasure as he continues his movements. Feeling your arms about to give out, you let your back sink into the mattress and allow your eyes to close. He can’t help but grind his hips against the bed, needing something to alleviate the overwhelming pressure running through his cock.

Tyler pushes his face further into you as he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. He moans into your pussy and continues to grind his hips against the bed. Your thighs tighten around his head and your legs tremble a little as you feel the vibrations from his body travel through yours.

He knows he’s not going to last long, but he doesn’t try to stop himself. His cum spurts out and onto the side of the bed, dripping onto the floor beneath him. His fingers tighten on your thighs as he finishes, his cock barely softening.

His climax remains unknown to you, too lost in the depths of pleasure. After a couple more minutes of your whining and your hips grinding into his face, he decides to give you what you want. He slides one of his hands down and pushes a finger into you all the way to the knuckle, meeting no resistance from your welcoming body.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your back arching.

Tyler continues to thrust his finger into, feeling your slick coat his finger, making it even easier for him to move. You feel a slight stretch as he adds another finger to the mix, plunging his fingers deep inside of you. You reach a hand down and allow your fingers to tangle in his hair. Tyler hums out a moan when you give his scalp a small tug.

When Tyler notices your orgasm approaching, he quickens the pace of his fingers. The change of pace allows you to hear just how drenched you really are. The sound of your wet squelching echoes through your ears as he curls his fingers and finds your sweet spot.

“Oh god,” you whimper, your back going into a deep arch.

Tyler releases your clit from his lips and replaces them with the thumb from his unoccupied hand. His lips glisten from your arousal as he rubs tight circles into you in time with the rhythm of his fingers in your tight walls. He glances up at your face and smirks at the reaction he’s able to pull from you.

Tyler feels your walls beginning to clench repeatedly around his fingers, signaling your orgasm. His fingers speed up inside you even more, constantly hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.

You feel that final wave of intense pleasure run through you, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you come undone. His fingers don’t slow down, though, he continues the movement until he sees that clear liquid gush out of you. It soaks his fingers even more, dripping down his arm and some hits him in the chest.

“There you go,” Tyler mumbles, keeping his eyes on your gushing pussy.

You cry out as you feel yourself squirt, the liquid running your thighs and onto the blanket beneath you. When you notice him not letting up on his thrusts, you let out a squeal and try to pull away.

“Ty! Baby!” you wail, immediately feeling yourself being thrown into another orgasm. Tyler chuckles as he watches you squirm.

When that second orgasm arrives, it hits much harder than the first one, making your body clamp up as you feel yourself squirt once more. Tears begin to form in your waterline from the overstimulation.

“S-shit,” you stammer. Your voice is high pitched and much weaker than it was a few seconds ago.

Tyler smiles proudly at his work and decides to pull his fingers out. His cock jumps as he looks down at his body covered in your arousal.

You try to catch your breath as you slowly climb backwards towards the headboard, your thighs still twitching.

“What’s wrong, darling? Where are you going?” Tyler innocently asks as he climbs up onto the bed. His voice is deep and raspy as he speaks, the way it always gets at a time like this. He grabs you by your ankles and pulls you back down a couple of inches as he hovers over you.

“Y’know, I’m actually really glad Boone gave us those honey packets. What about you?” Tyler asks he situates himself between your thighs. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins to lightly stroke himself. He groans and tosses his head back for a second, a bit sensitive from his orgasm. He quickly returns his attention back to you.

Despite the two orgasms Tyler just ripped out of you, you feel yourself getting turned on again. You gulp as you watch the sight in front of you unfold, your mouth beginning to water.

Oh, no.

“Nothing to say?” he smirks and begins to run his cock through your sore folds.

You tremble as he moves against you, not being able to stop yourself from moving your hips along with his motions.

“Who knew they actually worked?” you try to laugh, but immediately get cut off by Tyler sliding into you. He moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you close and caging you in between him and the mattress.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes widen. Your lip quivers and your eyes flutter close at the stretch of him pushing until the hilt.

“Fuck,” Tyler rasps at the feeling of your warm walls contracting around him. He clenches his jaw as a chill runs through his body, needing to close his eyes to gather himself. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how good you feel.”

All you can do is whimper in response. You open your eyes to meet him already looking back down at you. His lips have transformed back into the irritating smirk.

Looks like you’re going to be stuck here for a while, might as well get comfortable.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 13 days ago

Text

Sweetheart

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> Times when you told Tyler to not call you 'Sweetheart' and the one time you did.

Disclaimer: This had been a w-i-p over the last couple of days so if it feels patchy, I apologise. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, completely oblivious and scared idiots. Two almost kisses, one actual kiss, long love confession, little angst, lots of fluff, one bed trope, fake dating (sorta), lots of uses of the nickname 'Sweetheart', getting caught in a tornado, cowboy romance books mentioned. Not Proof Read.

You could remember the first time you told Tyler to stop calling you ‘Sweetheart’.

It had been when he had been fixing his truck outside the fifth motel of the season.

You’d both been friends for years. Ever since college. In fact, you were the first friend he made there. You’d been sitting under a tree since every bench either had a couple or a massive group of friends at each one. That was when he joined you.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here? It looks like most places are taken.”

Moving your bag from the spare patch, you let him sit down. Then you noticed his text book.

You both got to talking and you found out your classes shared a building, and with a similar timetable for classes and a shared fear of student society nights, you both stuck together.

Tyler took you to a couple of rodeos, showing you round and explaining everything that went on behind the scenes. Which was also when you found out he was an ex-bull rider.

You showed him around campus and the best place to study, and when neither of you were working, you’d show him around your home town.

And the rest was history.

You’d both been together ever since.

However, it wasn’t until after you both experienced an EF-4 whilst ‘off duty’ that you found something out about yourself.

You were in love with Tyler.

Of course, you’d always loved him as a friend. He was your best-friend and had been for years. Except, until that moment, you didn’t realise how deeply. And you couldn’t remember when it had happened. Had it been right away and you just confused it with friendship love? Or was it long after you made friends with him?

You had a thousand and one questions about it, but something you didn’t question was how Tyler felt about you. Of course, he loved you, too. You were one of his best friends. But that was how he loved you. As a friend.

And you were happy with that. More so considering letting your new fact be known out-loud might not only cost you your job but also your long time friendship with someone who you considered family.

Except, as time went on, you picked up on more and more things. Like how you always leaned into him, or found yourself by his side at most times of the day. Or like how he threw his arm around you when everyone sat around the campfire, or how you’d fall asleep beside him only to wake up in your bed the next morning.

Or like how he’d always called you ‘Sweetheart’. Like he just did, when he asked you to hand him the socket wrench.

“You know, you gotta stop calling me that. People are gonna think we’re together.”

Tyler took the wrench from you with a small chuckle. “But I always call you that.”

“That’s my point. What if someone wants to chat you up but they think you’re with me?”

“But I am with you.” Tyler told you.

You scoffed and kicked the sole of his boot lightly. “I’m being serious. What if you miss out on meeting your wife? The mother of your children because she thinks you’re with me?”

From under his truck, Tyler rolled out. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Why?”

Everything wasn’t fine, but the less he knew about it the better.

“You’ve never had a problem with me calling you Sweetheart before.”

You shrugged, trying your best to remain casual about it. “I was just thinking about it, s’all.”

Tyler hummed in confusion before disappearing back beneath his truck. “Okay, I’ll try not to call you Sweetheart in public anymore.”

Though he couldn’t see, you gave a small nod to thank him. You didn’t want to let him know that it was killing you asking that of him. You loved when he called you different nicknames, because that was him. If nothing else was right in the world, you knew he was.

But the more and more you became aware of who you were when you were with him, the more you started to think about how it would start to affect him, even if he didn’t realise it.

Except, for as much as he tried, he still slipped up every now and again.

But the second time you told him to stop calling you that, he’d fully done it with intent.

Another week, another motel. Only, this time there weren’t enough rooms to go around, with the rodeo in town. So, whilst you stood and listened to everyone fight over who had to share, you searched for some sticks before shoving them into the middle of the group circle.

“Lily, here. Whoever pulls the short straw shares. I need the bathroom.”

So, you disappeared.

However, when you came back, you found most of your family disappearing into their own rooms whilst Tyler was still standing inside of the motel office.

“I think he’s gonna need your help.” Lily told you as she grabbed her bag from her car.

A little confused, you followed her advice and headed for the office. Only when you opened the door…

“Ty, Lily said-”

“Sweetheart! There you are. Thought you’d gotten lost.” You were about to correct him and tell him to stop calling you when suddenly, you found yourself being dragged to his side. “Molly, this is my girlfriend.”

“She’s not your wife?”

Tyler seemed to panic for a moment.

What the hell was going on?

“Is everything-”

Tyler looked at you, but something in his eyes begged you not to ask.

“Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Well,” the owner drawled. “How long have you two been together?”

“Just a little over ten years.”

She almost exploded. “Ten years?! And you still haven’t put a ring on it yet? Oh, honey, what are you two doing?”

Tyler chuckled a little all the while your body became fully aware of his arm around your waist and his hand at your hip. “See, that’s the thing. We wanted to get married but-”

“Your parents don’t approve?”

You practically gave yourself whiplash for how quickly you turned to look at her, an offended look on your face. Okay, maybe you didn’t look your best but you’d all been on the road for six hours and you hadn’t slept the night before. And it wasn’t your fault Tyler looked good at any time of the day.

Tyler, a little shocked himself, shook his head.

“Her parents don’t approve?”

“Well,” Tyler seemed to be making it up as he went along. “Her parents don’t believe in marriage.”

You came back to earth. Lying, right.

You nodded your head. “I’d love to get married but I kinda want my folks to be there. But, we’re getting around them, aren’t we, honey?”

You tried your best to ignore how easily the pet name rolled off your tongue for Tyler.

Tyler smiled and you could have sworn he blushed. “That’s right.”

The owner looked between you both. “Well, I suppose…that’s okay. Here’s your key. I hope you two have a nice stay.”

“We will, thank you.”

Taking the key, Tyler took hold of your hand before opening the door for you and leading you outside. Once more, your hand was in his all the way towards the car, only having him let go when he climbed into the bed of his truck to grab his luggage and your own.

“Do you…” You looked to see if the owner was still watching. She wasn’t. “Do you wanna tell me what just happened?”

“She thinks we’re together.”

“That’s my point.” You told him. “Why?”

He hopped down from his truck. “Boone took the short straw and since you were in the bathroom, the others called their own rooms. But, since he’s eaten nothing but spicy tacos for the last three days, I offered to share with you.”

“What a gentleman.”

Tyler smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“That still doesn’t explain why she thinks we’re together.”

“Hey,” Tyler held his hands up. “I was gonna correct her but then she started talking about how nobody who wasn’t wed shouldn’t share a room. So, when you walked in, I just rolled with it. The next motel is an hour away, but the rodeo in town is probably booked up.”

And everyone was tired. Dragging everyone back on the road would just feel illegal.

So, taking your bag from him, you followed him up to your shared room. With just one bed.

Considering the owner didn’t like unmarried couples sharing a room, it shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was.

“Want me to take the floor? You already offered to share, seems fair.”

Tyler shook his head. “That bed could fit me, you, and probably a herd of cattle.”

You rolled your eyes before walking inside and dumping your bag on the small bench by the window.

“We can share.”

Remember; normal.

You and Tyler had shared a bed a hundred times before. This was no different. Other than your self-aware feelings for him and the fact that you’d been trying to complete less of them ever since.

“Okay.”

And like normal, you both took your registered sides. Tyler by the door, you by the window.

Barely an hour later, both yourself and Tyler were lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

“How many people do you think have lied about being married just to get a room here?”

You shrugged. “Considering there are like, a thousand romance books out there with the main couples doing that exact thing…I guess…a lot.”

Tyler turned to you with a shocked smile on his face.

“What?”

“You read romance books?”

You furrowed your brows a little. If you had been talking to anyone else, or talking to Tyler before you found yourself harbouring such a big secret from not only him but also yourself, you would have owned it.

But this was a man you had secretly been in love with for god only knows how long.

“I read other stuff, too.” You managed to stutter out.

“I’ve never once seen you read a book that isn’t a textbook.”

“And? Plenty of people read romance. That’s why it’s a genre.”

“So, what else happens in these romances of yours?”

“They’re not my romances.” You clarified. But nothing could wipe that shit-eating grin from his face.

“Are they all as cheesy as they used to be?”

You found yourself stumped at that question. “Used to be? Wait, you’ve read a romance book?”

Tyler nodded. “Just after I got stomped on by my second bull, I was waiting with the medic. I got bored and she gave me a book to read.”

“And how was it?”

“Cheesy,” Tyler said. “But the cover did have a half naked man on the cover. The doc tried to pass it off as her friends, but since she went bright red in the face, I knew it was her. So, what are yours?”

Then he started listing off different characters, revelling in the embarrassment it was causing you to admit it to him.

“A hot firefighter who saves kittens from trees? A…18th century Duke from London, England who just so happens to ‘hate’ his sister’s best friend? That was what the Doc’s book was. Oh my god, is it a Prince in disguise who falls in love with the local baker and they win a pie contest together?”

“You’re an asshole.” You told him before turning over.

“Oh, come on.” Tyler laughed. “Just tell me. If you don’t, I can always ask Boone to go through your goodreads. Maybe I want to buy you one for your birthday, but I don’t know which one you’ve already-”

“It’s cowboys.” You felt like you were shouting.

“What?” You could already hear the grin on his face, which made you only try and repress yours. But he heard it anyway.

“It’s cowboys. Bull riders, ranch owners, cowboys. Those are the romances I, mainly, read.”

You managed to build up enough courage to turn onto your back, only to look over and see Tyler’s smile still on his face.

“Go on, go ahead. Laugh at it.”

“Are any of them Tornado Wranglers?”

With a laugh behind your voice, you threw a pillow at his head. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

From behind you, you heard him laugh as he fixed his pillow. “Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

You turned the lamp off. “Go to sleep.”

He was still smiling as he turned his own off. “Night, Sweetheart.”

By the time you woke up in the morning, you were scrambling to find out where you were.

In your head, you’d been in bed with Tyler. You’d all been sitting around the campfire, listening to Tyler finally agree to tell an actual spooky story. Of course, after scaring the crap out of you, Dexter told a nicer one which…you fell asleep to. Only, you’d woken to Tyler being in your bed. He’d carried you to bed. Again. But, just as you were laying in his arm, you felt the ground beneath you begin to shake before a cold draft came up the back of your neck.

By the time you turned to look at the window, you saw…

Flying cows.

Tuning back around, everything went from colourful to dim. Almost black and white. You could just about make Tyler out beneath the covers but each time you took a step, you found yourself unable to move.

But when you finally did move, a pair of arms reached for you and held you back to the window.

You woke up with a start, trying to figure out where you were.

You were in bed.

With a pair of arms around you.

You sat up.

You were in bed.

In a motel.

With Tyler.

You were in bed with Tyler.

For the second time in less than twenty four hours, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. The window was open a little. Tyler must have woken up in the night and opened it. But there were no flying cows. You made a mental note to not watch The Wizard of Oz, and have it be the last thing you watch, before bed.

Looking down at a sleeping Tyler, you noticed where his arms were around you. Around your back, and since you’d moved to sit up quickly, across your thighs with his hand closer to your hip.

Trying your best, you tried to ignore how attractive he looked even when he was asleep. You’d seen the same image many a hundred times in the last ten years, and yet it never got old. Of course, at the time you weren’t trying to bury feelings.

Slowly, you tried to peel yourself from him only to have him tighten his hold on you and pull you back towards him a little.

“S’everything okay, Sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Morning voice. Looking like that.

“Every…” You swallowed and forced yourself to look away before he caught the heat on your cheeks. “Everything…everything’s fine.”

Having most of his face buried into his pillow, he opened up one eye and looked at you. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Sweetheart.”

The nickname rolled so easily off his tongue, you knew he didn’t notice how casually he used it with you.

If you weren’t awake before, you were when he spoke.

Almost throwing yourself from him, you scooted out of bed and stood up. “I’m fine. Promise. I’m gonna get some coffee.” It almost sounded like a question as you looked around for your jeans.

From behind you, you heard him shuffle around the bedsheets. When you looked back, you almost melted at the sight. Lay there in bed, watching you with that smile on his face that you could never quite pin a meaning to. One arm behind his head, the other out of the covers and by his side, white tee on, his pj pants that you’d gotten him almost seven christmases ago just visible from the flipped corner of the bed.

“Yeah. Coffee. You want one?”

“You sure you’re okay? You never usually have this much energy in the morning.” Tyler said. “Sure you don’t wanna wait. Don’t think the diner’s even open.”

“That’s okay.” You grabbed a random shirt from the chair by the small dining table.

Again, that smile was on Tyler’s face.

“I’ll be back soon.”

From their own rooms, the others watched as you left your shared room with Tyler, dressed in his shirt, looking like you’d just rolled out of bed.

Lily: Do you think something finally happened?

Dex: If something did, I don’t think she’d look so freaked.

Dani: Or be leaving their bed so early in the morning…

By the time Tyler had actually gotten out of bed, showered and had changed, you still weren’t back from your freaked coffee run.

“Hey, Boone!”

“Yeah, dude?”

“You seen Y/n?”

Boone shook his head. “No. Why?”

Tyler looked…sad. And confused. “Nothing. No reason.”

But rather than wait around, he went and looked for you. And it wasn’t long before he found you. Sat inside a mostly empty cafe-diner, you were waiting on another two coffee’s to go.

“Hey.”

Tyler could have sworn you’d jumped out of your skin.

“Oh, hey.”

“Was starting to get worried. Need some help.”

You looked at the two coffee holders. “Uh, sure.”

Tyler watched you. You couldn’t look him in the eye. And you still looked flushed. He was starting to get worried. For years, you’d both been attached at the hip. But in the last six months, you’d asked him to stop calling you ‘Sweetheart’, had stopped leaning into him or even standing by his side when in a group. You’d stopped fighting Boone for riding shotgun with him. You’d stopped falling asleep on his shoulder or even sitting beside him at night. And he was pretty sure if the owner of the motel didn’t make a point of the married couple sharing a room, you would have taken the flatbed of his truck over sharing a room with him.

“Are we okay?”

That got you to look him in the eye. “What?”

“I just mean…Are you sure you’re okay? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never even been awake before a diner has opened unless you’ve had to be.”

You nodded and looked back at the drinks. “I just needed coffee, that’s all.”

“But if something was going on, you would tell me, right?”

You forced yourself to look at him, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie. “Of course.”

Tyler nodded, but something in his gut told him you weren't telling him the full truth.

Either way, he kept his eye on you for the rest of the day. And the days that followed.

You’d always go to bed earlier than everyone else, or much later. He’d fall asleep watching you read over data and old textbooks but would wake up and catch a glimpse of you curled up either on the bench by the window or on the bed beside him reading a book he could only guess was a ‘Cowboy Romance’ considering a cowboy hat was just one of the small details designed into the cover.

He’d smile and close his eyes again, listening to you turn the pages every now and again, gasp quietly or let out a soft laugh every now and again.

Only, when the morning came round, if he woke up before you, he’d close his eyes, still holding you close because he knew the moment you woke up, you’d stay still for a moment but if he moved, you’d shoot right out of bed.

It was getting harder and harder each day to pretend you didn’t worry him. And it was getting even harder to ignore the feeling in his chest he got each time he looked at you, or heard your voice or even thought about you.

But all of that finally came to a head a few days after rolling into town when a tornado hit.

All the data had shown no tornado was meant to come into town and what with the rodeo on, everyone headed down to it. Walking down there, Tyler could remember when he first brought you to one of the circuits he used to run on. He’d loved to have you there. To have you know of his life before he met you, because in a way, it put you there. Like, even if you hadn’t met til college, you had a place in all aspects of his life.

And for the first time in months, you met his eye and smiled. Like you used to. Watching the bull riders, and the cowboys and him asking you if you remembered when you and him first attended a rodeo together.

But just as he looked back at you, your gaze matched his for a second too long and…you looked away. Flushed, embarrassed, then…annoyed.

Not at him. He knew that look off by heart.

You were annoyed at yourself.

But why?

Forcing himself to look back at the rodeo, he tried his best to not think too deeply into why you were annoyed with yourself. But it still worried him.

But then something else worried him.

Everyone’s alert on their phones.

“We weren’t picking up cells this way.”

One look shared between both yourself and Tyler let the other know what to do. People had to get to shelter there and then. And for the next fifteen minutes, everyone started running, staring up their engines to drive away or running to find shelter.

You and the rest of the team helped who you could before finding shelter for yourselves.

“Down here!”

Tyler pulled you closer and followed you down the steps inside the cramped underground shelter before you helped him shut the doors. Bolting it shut before the Tornado could whip them open again, you and him (like everyone else) huddled to the floor.

With his arm across your back, you turned into him, gripping onto his shirt for dear life. And despite the rattling of the doors, people’s nervous screams and the battered weather outside, you eventually only heard one thing.

“It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Tyler’s voice in your ear provided soothing words that eventually started to slow your heartbeat. He pressed a kiss into your hair, his other hand coming around your front, before holding onto your hand that was gripping onto his shirt.

“We’re okay. I promise. Just breathe, Sweetheart. Breathe with me.”

And you did.

You didn’t know when the tornado had passed or when everyone felt like they could breathe again. But you did know you’d just fallen so deeply in love with Tyler at the thought of losing him, even if he’d been wrapped around you the entire time, that you were almost paralysed in those moments.

Slowly, you looked back up and directly at him. Any closer and you both might have kissed. Tyler’s eyes were searching your face just as yours were searching his. He was okay. He wasn’t hurt. No scars. No bruises.

Instinctively, he let his hand from round your back come to your face, pushing the hair from it all the while letting his finger trace your cheekbone and your cheek.

If he didn’t fear losing you forever, he would have kissed you.

“I love you,” he said in his head.

“Tyler…”

He just nodded. “We’re okay.”

Leaning forward, you hugged him and he hugged you back.

It was slow getting back to the motel. It wasn’t until early hours. You took turns getting cleaned up and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t scoot to the end of the bed only to make your way over to him in your sleep.

As he climbed into bed, you turned towards him.

“Come here.”

That night, you fell asleep in his embrace, listening to his heartbeat inside of his chest. Feeling his lips press a kiss to your temple twice before he locked you inside his hold, warming your entire body.

And when a lighter morning rolled in, Tyler woke to his name being quietly called.

You were having a nightmare.

Holding you closer to his chest, he stroked the back of your head with one of his hands before his other hand took hold of yours. He pressed a kiss into your palm before pressing a similar one to your temple.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m right here.”

You calmed after that. But you woke up not long after. However, before you could scoot away from him and launch yourself out of bed before your body was ready for it, he told you something.

“You were calling out for me. You were having a nightmare.”

Going off your previous track record, you were about to lie. Tell him you weren’t or that you weren’t even having a nightmare. That you’d been arguing with him or you’d been talking to him and the other Wranglers.

But you didn’t.

You told him the truth.

“You were hurt.”

Tyler was a little taken aback.

“You were hurt and I needed you to be okay.”

Tyler didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if your nightmare had been frequent or if it was just a fluke after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

So all he could do was say…

“Sweetheart.”

His voice soft, his touch even softer against your skin and yet secure in all the same aspects, he pulled you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“I’m okay. I promise I’m okay. I’m right here.”

He kissed your hand. “I’m right here.”

All you could do was just…look at him.

The man you’d been best friends with for as long as you could remember, the man who’d shown and invited you into parts of his life, the man who had invited you to be apart for the rest of it, the man who you’d spent almost every single day with ever since, the man who you’d been and only fallen deeper in love with each day…was right by your side.

He was right in front of you.

He wasn’t a dream.

He wasn’t a nightmare.

There were no flying cows, there were no more tornadoes (for now at least), there were no elements of anything being fake.

And the longer you looked at him, the more you realised…

You would always be in love with him.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

It wouldn't matter how much you avoided him, or pushed yourself or even pushed him to find someone. You would always love him.

With his thumb caressing your cheek, Tyler watched you.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He hadn’t meant to say it outloud. But he was glad he did.

Your other hand came to his chest…but you didn’t push him away. And you didn’t push yourself away, either.

“Tyler…”

All of a sudden, it was like the only thing either of you could hear was your heartbeats. Blood pumping faster and faster and you got closer and closer, if that was even possible.

Finally, Tyler made a decision.

Cupping your face, he moved until you were almost under him, placing the hand he kissed over his heart.

Suddenly, he was nervous.

He swallowed, gazing at you.

“C…Can I…” He swallowed again.

Except, just as he went to ask, and you would have replied, a booming knock came to the door making both of you jump out of your skin.

Neither you or Tyler moved, but when it came a second time, you looked at each other quickly before bolting out of bed. You didn’t know what to do. Your mind was still trying to process the last ten minutes.

Whilst you stood on your side of the bed, Tyler took a final look back at you. And when he opened the door, Boone thought Tyler looked like he was guilty of sin.

Boone had known Tyler long enough to know that look. Anybody who didn’t know him, well, they wouldn’t have noticed. But he did.

“Boone, man. We were asleep.”

“Shoot. Sorry, dude.” Boone apologised. “Well, we were all gonna get some food before we hit the road to help. Want something?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“Dude! We tried. Tried Y/n, too. I’ve got a charger if you need one.”

Tyler sighed. Right. Dead phone.

“No, that’s good. We’ll just…get us the usual?”

“And coffee!” You heard yourself add.

Tyler smiled at the sound of your voice. “And coffee. Wait, here.”

Handing Boone a twenty dollar bill, he thanked him before shutting the door.

“He’s gonna give someone a heart attack one day.” You said as Tyler finally shut the door.

Tyler scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle. “Almost gave me one.”

Then the silence hit.

“Well, I, uh…we better….bathroom. I’m just gonna…yep.”

In his heart, Tyler was elated at the thought of what almost happened. But in his gut, it was like a punch to his soul.

You couldn’t even meet his eye when you spoke and ran towards the bathroom. And when you left and he entered, it had never been more awkward between you both.

He could only hope he hadn’t lost you.

He loved you.

He was in love with you.

But he didn’t want that to be the reason he lost you.

For the rest of the day, he only felt worse.

And so did you.

You’d almost kissed him. Then Boone had knocked on. And suddenly him being the only other person in the room made you feel like the walls were closing in. No matter how much you wanted to go back to the bed and finish what had almost started…something inside you forced you away from it.

Being on the verge of telling your best friend who you’d been in love with for years was suddenly a much higher cliff than you’d originally thought.

Due to the wreckage of the tornado, you and the rest of the crew spent the day helping people, giving them food and water, making sure they were okay.

However, just a little after two, you looked around for him. And, like usual, you found him instantly.

By his truck, he was loading a toolbox back into the flatbed. And he turned. He’d seen you.

He’d been looking over at you all day. And for the first time, you met his gaze.

He would spend the rest of his life loving you. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind or in his heart about that. And there never would be.

He could only hope that what had almost happened that morning wouldn’t make you hate him.

After a moment, you heard your name being called and you forced yourself to look away from Tyler.

“I love you,” you told him, in your head.

“I love you,” he told you, in his head.

Hours passed and every five minutes, Tyler’s gaze would find yours again before being forced away.

When he wasn’t looking at you, he was thinking about you. Thinking about the tornado, thinking about the rodeo, thinking about the motel room. And watching you from across the wreckage, he made a decision.

He could only hope it was the right one.

And getting back to the motel couldn’t come quick enough.

By the time everyone did get back, it was long after the sun had gone down. And entering your motel room, Tyler tried to get you to talk to him.

“We need some ice. I’ll go and get some.”

“Y/n.”

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Promise.”

Only, you weren’t. And when Tyler heard a crash, he practically ran out of his room and down the stairs.

“Y/n?”

Looking around, he saw you stood at the end of the building scooping ice into the bucket.

“You okay?”

You looked up. “Yeah, why?”

Tyler looked around. “I thought I heard something.”

You were confused. “I didn’t hear anything.”

But as the ice stopped, you both heard it. Trash cans.

“This way.”

“Tyler-”

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you round the corner. Neither of you were cast in the light from the motel but rather hid in the darkness beside it. You looked behind you and around the wall whilst Tyler stood in front of you.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

It happened again and then…

Laughing.

You physically relaxed and turned back to Tyler with a relieved smile.

“It’s just people coming back from the bar. We’re safe.”

Only then did you realise how closely you stood together, or how you could feel his weight slowly pressing against you. Or maybe you were pulling him forward.

Softly, you pressed yourself into the wall as Tyler started towering over you, his hands slowly grazing over your hips as he looked at you.

It was like what had happened that morning only…more.

Slowly, your breath tangled with his, your heartbeat steadily rising as one of his hands ran up your body and pushed your hair from your face.

“Tyler…”

“We should get back inside. Before you get cold.”

You were anything but that, in the moment.

And when you both got back inside your room, having Tyler carefully take the ice bucket from you and place it on the table, only made you feel hotter.

“We need to talk about this morning.”

“Tyler…”

“Sweetheart, I mean it.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“We almost kissed.”

You closed the bathroom door in his face before reaching for your toothbrush and paste. Only, you forgot to lock it.

Opening it back up, Tyler stood by the door, one hand on his hip, the other on the handle.

“Y/n, will you please listen to me?”

“Tyler, please. Please, just…just stop. Before either of us say something we can’t take back.”

He stood tall. “What if I don’t wanna take it back? What if I want to say it out loud so we can both finally be finished with this…this…this weird awkward…thing between us. In ten years never once has it been awkward.”

You sighed, dropping your toothbrush under the tap before rinsing out your mouth. “Well, whatever it is, you can say it to an empty room.”

Pushing past him, you grabbed your jacket and headed for the door. You weren’t going to stick around to hear him tell you your friendship with him was over. That your worst fear was about to become your reality.

Only, as you reached for the handle and opened up the door, the next three words that came from Tyler’s mouth, as he stood, still in the opening of the bathroom, stopped you right in your tracks.

“I love you.”

He’d told you he loved you a thousand times over the years, but it had always been quickly and in the same way and same tone as he told anybody else who he loved. But those three words. They were different.

They meant something entirely different.

You could hear him slowly taking a few steps forward.

“I love you, Y/n. I’m in love with you.”

You physically couldn’t move. Everything inside of you wanted to do…something. Kiss him, tell him the same, tell him he was mistaken, that he didn’t love you, tell him to stop, tell him to keep going.

“And I think…” He took a breath. Not of fear, not of worry, but of relief. Like finally saying these words out loud was a weight off his chest. “I think you’re in love with me, too.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just waited.

“Now, you can run out of here. You can leave, if you want. But know that I want you to stay. I want to talk about this. All day, the only thing I’ve been able to think about is you. About the rodeo, about the other morning. About all the other times I’ve wanted to kiss you and to have you be the one I share a room with. Not because we’ve drawn straws but because you would want it, too. Again, if you want to leave, you can. The door’s open. But I’m hoping you’ll stay.”

Tyler couldn’t comprehend what was going on inside your head as he watched you. He could have swore he saw your body move a little. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe you were going to leave after all. Maybe all of it was just in his head.

But then you let go of the handle.

The door shut in front of you and suddenly the white noise from outside floated away. You’d made your choice. But you were still scared.

“I…I don’t know what to do from here.”

“That’s okay.” Tyler moved closer to you until he was directly behind you. Carefully, he took your jacket from you and you let go of it willingly, allowing him to place it on the bed behind him. “We can figure it out together.”

Still behind you, Tyler’s hands lay gently by your sides. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

He took another step closer. You could already feel the heat from his body behind you, warming you from the cold draft that had wafted through when you’d opened the door.

“I’ve loved you since before I can remember. But I know the day I met you, you were gonna be in my life forever.”

Feeling brave, you turned in his arms to look at him. For a moment, he looked scared. Like it would be the last time you’d ever look at him and he’d never see you again. Scared that you’d leave.

But as your gaze landed on his, that smile came back.

“What?”

Still with that smile, he told you. “You look like you love me.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because you get this look in your eyes. Like something I’ve never seen before. And it’s new every time. Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer, but the courage you had to build to tell him took a moment. “Yes. I-I don’t know when. But I think one day it just…clicked. But I was scared. I still am…scared. Tyler, what if…what if something goes wrong? What if we lose each other forever?”

“That’ll never happen.”

“How? How can you know that?”

“I just…do. It’s like a tornado. Part science; all the chemicals that go into loving someone. Part religion. I don’t have to physically see how something happens, but I like to believe it’s there. Maybe I don’t have all the answers, but I knew I had to listen to what my gut told me.”

“And what did your gut tell you?”

Tyler gave you that smile again. “It told me that; ‘that girl, right there, under that tree. You need to talk to her, because she is going to be the best part of your day for the rest of your life.’”

You felt the heat in your cheeks rise.

“You have always been, and always will be, the best part of my day, Sweetheart. No matter how many tornados, no matter how many sleepless nights on the road or how much data we collect. The best part of my day is talking to you. Is looking over at you and having you look back. The best part of my day has forever been, and always will be, you.”

“So, trust me when I say that,” he continued. “Nothing bad will ever happen to us. Because I don’t plan on letting you go just because of fear. I’m in love with you, Sweetheart. And I want to be in your life, for the rest of your life.”

You smiled, “Say that again. The ‘I’m in love with you,’ part.”

Tyler was a little confused, but he would say it as many times as you wanted.

“I’m in love with you, Sweetheart.”

Watching you blush and try and hide your smile made him realise why you’d asked him to say it again.

“I knew you liked it when I called you that.”

You looked back up at him. “You know, you’re lucky I love you.”

Tyler smiled. “That’s the first time you’re saying that outloud.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna kiss me now? Or are you just gonna keep talking, Cowboy?”

“No, ma’am.”

Pulling you in closer, Tyler finally kissed you.

And it was…

Everything.

Every moment he’d dreamed of finally kissing you, every moment you’d wished he’d do so, every moment you’d both shared, harbouring those feelings, wishing for something more and being too scared to reach for it…

It was a lot to put into a first kiss.

But it came out naturally.

Having waited years, you both had some catching up to do.

#tyler owens #tyler owens tornado wrangler #tyler owens x reader #tyler ownens x you #falling in love #mutual pining #oblivious idiots #tornado wrangler #tornado wranglers #fluff #angst #best friends to lovers #love confessions #glen powell tyler owens #twisters #twister tyler owens #twisters x you #xfe!reader

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tj-is-down · 2 months ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.

Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.

Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.

Tyler Owens.

Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally.

In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him.

She lied.

It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.

“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.

Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“And you’re pretty, L/N.”

On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.

Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.

They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.

Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no.

She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.

He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.

“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.

“You’re not at church?”

“You knew I wouldn’t be.”

“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”

Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.

“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”

He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”

She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.

“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”

“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”

“Just get in the car, Romeo.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.

“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.

“I can’t show my girl some love?”

“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”

He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.

He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”

Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Okay, good.”

“Would that be so bad of me?”

“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”

“Tyler, you know what I meant—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”

He didn’t say another word on the ride home.

He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.

***

Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.

Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.

“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.

“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.

“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.

“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”

“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”

“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”

“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”

“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”

Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”

Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?

Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!”

Oh, shit.

***

The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.

Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.

They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”

Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.

“What are you wearing?”

She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.

“What are you eating?”

“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”

“What about me?”

“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”

Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?”

“What else do you want from me?”

“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”

“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”

“Okay, so—”

“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”

Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”

“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”

“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”

“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”

“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”

“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”

In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.

“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”

“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.

“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.

“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.

“Seriously though, can we go?”

#tyler owens #twisters #twisters 2024 #glen powell #tyler owens x reader #glen powell cinematic universe

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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

Note

i love your writing so much !!!! it’s kinda similar to another story you have but i was wondering if i could request your take on the twisters scene towards the end when tyler’s leg gets stuck under the debris in the town square ?? like reader is the one running over to him completely worried & stressed because her man is hurt 🥺

Not leaving

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Y/N races to save Tyler, trapped under debris after a tornado, refusing to leave his side until he's safely rescued.

Chapter Warnings: Intense storm danger, injury, descriptions of pain, and emotional distress.

The town square was a scene of devastation, the aftermath of the tornado leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Buildings were reduced to rubble, cars overturned, and debris scattered everywhere. The air was thick with dust, the scent of rain and earth mingling with the acrid smell of smoke from a nearby fire.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she navigated through the wreckage, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of Tyler. The last time she’d seen him, he had been trying to help a group of people take cover in a nearby building. But when the tornado hit, everything turned to chaos, and she’d lost sight of him.

“Tyler!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she called out, desperation lacing her tone. She clambered over a fallen tree, ignoring the sting of a cut on her leg, her only thought to find him, to make sure he was okay.

Suddenly, she spotted him—pinned under a massive piece of debris in the middle of the square. His face was pale, and he was struggling to move, pain etched across his features.

“Tyler!” Y/N screamed, rushing to his side. She dropped to her knees next to him, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch his face, to reassure herself that he was still there.

“Y/N…” Tyler’s voice was strained, his breath coming in short gasps. “I’m… I’m stuck.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she took in the sight of his leg trapped under the heavy debris. She could see the pain he was in, the way his hands clenched into fists as he tried to fight it.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she promised, her voice trembling but determined. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll get help.”

She looked around frantically, but everyone else was either injured or already helping others. There was no time to wait for someone else. She had to do this herself.

“Stay with me, Tyler,” Y/N said, her voice tight with emotion as she crouched down and tried to lift the debris off his leg. It was heavy, far too heavy for her to move on her own, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let him suffer, not for one more second.

Tyler groaned in pain as she strained against the weight, tears slipping down her cheeks as she gave it everything she had. But the debris barely budged, and she could see the anguish in his eyes.

“Y/N, stop…” Tyler managed to say, his voice hoarse. “You’ll hurt yourself. I… I’ll be okay. Just go get help.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Y/N choked out, shaking her head. “I’m not leaving you here, Tyler. I can’t.”

She tried again, her muscles burning with the effort, but the debris still wouldn’t move. Frustration and fear clawed at her, and she let out a sob, her hands trembling as she gripped his.

“Please, Tyler… just hold on a little longer,” she whispered, her tears falling onto his skin. “Help is coming, I promise.”

Tyler’s hand squeezed hers weakly, his eyes softening despite the pain. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise.”

Finally, she heard the shouts of other rescuers approaching. Y/N turned to see a group of first responders rushing toward them, their faces grim as they took in the scene.

“Please, help him!” Y/N cried out, stepping back to let them work.

The rescuers quickly assessed the situation, then moved in with tools to lift the debris. It felt like an eternity as they carefully freed Tyler’s leg, Y/N watching with bated breath, her hands clenched tightly together.

When they finally managed to lift the debris, Tyler let out a pained groan, but Y/N was there in an instant, holding his hand and whispering reassurances. They quickly stabilized his leg and prepared to move him to safety.

“You did it, Y/N,” Tyler murmured as they lifted him onto a stretcher. His voice was weak, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “You saved me.”

Y/N leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her tears of relief mingling with the dirt and sweat on his skin. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you, Tyler. Not now, not ever.”

As they loaded him into the ambulance, Y/N climbed in beside him, never letting go of his hand. The storm had passed, but the fear of losing him still lingered, a shadow over the relief she felt at having him alive and safe.

“Just rest now,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over his knuckles gently. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Tyler’s eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion overtaking him, but his grip on her hand remained firm. And as they sped away from the wreckage of the town square, Y/N knew that no matter what storms they faced, they would face them together.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #dad!tyler owens

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lulunothulu · 3 months ago

Text

“Up in the Air”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: You’re still mad(kinda) at Tyler and his stupid handsome face. You’re so mad, you run into trouble’s way—trouble being a rowdy man at a bar and your mind.

Contents: man feeling you up, protective Tyler, fluff, swearing, eluding to anxiety, Happy Ever After

Word count: about 2k?

You had just walked into the local bar trying to get out of the bad storm. The parking lot was full but you managed to squeeze the Storm Par truck into a slot right next to the biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

Tyler Owens.

You rolled your eyes when you turned to your head to the right to see him, Boone, and Ben wave at you with sweet smiles.

Sure, Tyler was a handsome looking man. And sure, it made your heart flutter that he smiled at you. But god damnit, you would not be letting that reckless asshole in.

Not again at least.

See, you used to be part of the Tornado Wranglers. You loved it…that was until you and Tyler broke up.

Call it creative differences. He wanted to be reckless, you wanted to live.

Now sitting at the bar and sipping on your drink, the blaring music and people chattering fill your ears. To your right, a man in his late fifties taps on your shoulder, causing you to face him.

“Can I help you?” You ask, face schooled in indifference.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He slurs. His face is greasy and hair (if you could call it that) is matted on top of his shiny head. He’s thin, and the smells of whiskey emanate from his breath and pores.

You scrunch up your nose and frown. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

You begin to stand and walk away when he grabs your arm, tightly.

“I’m talking to you, bitch.” You face him, ready to land a punch but realize you’re no match. He’s tall, towering over you like a predator ready to strike.

He pulls you close, your body stiffening against his. When you feel the poke of his erection, you know it’s time to get out of this situation.

“Let me go,” you order calmly.

“Nah, I wanna get to know you,” he tells you, hand snaking down to your ass and squeezing firmly.

“Well, I don’t want to get to know you.” You firmly press a hand on his chest but his grip tightens around you.

You’re panicking. Does no one see you trapped in this man’s embrace? His hand is still on your ass for crying out loud.

“Let go of me!” You yell.

“Hey!” You hear to the right. You turn your head to see a stern-faced Tyler walking toward you and the man. “Let go of my girlfriend!”

“She’s your girlfriend?” The man drawls, looking between you and Tyler.

“Yeah, and I’d really appreciate it if you let her go.” Tyler crosses his arms over his chest, Boone and Ben standing on either side of him.

The man scoffs but throws you into Tyler’s arms. “Take the bitch then. She wasn’t being fun for me anyway.”

You push away from Tyler’s embrace after the man walks off to harass another poor girl. “I could’ve handled it.”

“Right, it looked like you were handling things very well.” He scoffs. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Storm Par sent me to do some analyses on a tornado that’s gonna hit later this week. What’re you doing here?” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tyler smiles before stepping close to you and saying, “I’m chasing that same tornado. It’s supposed to be the fastest and worst one this season. Towns are gonna need our help.”

“Right and I don’t suppose you’re going to chase said tornado are you?” You ask, taking a step back.

Tyler takes another step toward you before smiling that devilish grin you loved so much.

“Of course we are.”

You roll your eyes and look to his left before breaking into a smile and saying, “Hi Boonie.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he replies. “I miss you.”

“I miss you guys too,” you truthfully tell him. You turn to Ben and smile. “Hi Ben, are they treating you okay?”

“Are they giving me heart attacks in a daily, you mean?” He responds, his English accent twittling in your ears.

You smile before shaking your head. “So nothing’s changed, I see.”

“That’s not true,” Boone cuts in. “Tyler’s got a new harness just in case.”

“Boone…” Tyler warns.

“After you almost flew out of the truck last year, he had them installed.” Boone continues. “You should come test them out.”

Your heart begins beating rapidly at that.

You didn’t like talking about what happened the last time you went storm chasing with the Tornado Wranglers.

It had been a normal chase, Tyler had just set off the fireworks and you were all having a pretty great time—save for the warnings you gave Tyler earlier that day.

That was, until the tornado became stronger. Turning from a F2 to an F5 in a matter of seconds. The pull was so strong, you barely had time to react when you began flying out the window. Luckily Tyler grabbed your legs before you could fully be sucked out.

But then the tornado flipped the truck and you were almost cut in half by the speed of all. Had Tyler listened to you earlier that morning, you all would’ve never been put through that situation.

You halfheartedly smile at Boone before shaking your head. “I don’t think so. But thank you, at least now you guys will be safe.”

You turn and look at Tyler when you say that last part before telling him, “Thanks for saving me, but I think I’ll be leaving now.”

You begin to walk away, hearing Tyler call your name. Eventually, you reach the front door and swing it open to see the heavy rain turned into a lightning storm.

Panic begins to settle then. The lightning and strong winds bring you back to that moment when you thought you were going to die. The feel of Tyler’s hands on your ankles and his terrified screams muffle your ears.

Not again, I can’t be in a storm. I shouldn’t drive in this.

“Y/N! Get away from the door!” Tyler yells from behind you, but you can’t hear anything. It’s only when thunder cracks, that you’re shaken out of the frozen state you were in.

Tyler’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you close to him, his warm and hard body familiar against yours.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He berates you. “You can’t leave, that storm’s getting worse.”

His hard eyes searches yours, finding the remains of panic you were just in and softening. His arms instinctively squeeze you tight to him, one hand on your lower back and the other on the back of your head.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

Tyler frowns, before hoisting you on his shoulder and carrying you to the back of the bar.

“What the hell? Pull me down!” You scold.

Tyler ignores you, walking into the single stall bathroom before locking the door and setting you down gently.

“Talk,” he demands. “And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. I know you, Y/N.”

You sigh and lean against the sink. “It’s the storm.”

“What about it?” He asks. “You’ve probably seen hundreds of storms like this.”

“It reminds me of that day.”

You don’t even need to say what day, he already knows. He crosses the small room and places a hand on your waist the other on your cheek.

“I’m still so sorry,” he starts, practically whispering. “I’ve regretted it for the past year and four months.”

You chuckle. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Not of how long it’s been since that day,” he starts. “But of how long you’ve been away from me and not in my arms.”

“Tyler…”

“No, Y/N,” he interrupts. “I’ve been thinking about that day for so long just analyzing everything that I could’ve done to prevent it from happening.”

He shakes his head and steps away from you to pace the bathroom.

“I should’ve paid attention to the radar, to Lilly’s warnings, to you,” He continues. “You warned me that morning and I didn’t want to listen. I thought I would be able to handle it. I should’ve just listened to you when you told me you felt like that day was gonna get bad. I let my pride get in the way and it almost cost me your life.”

He stops, turning to you with tearful eyes. “It cost me us and for that, I’ll suffer for the rest of my life.”

“Ty,” you start, cold heart melting and warming for the man you once loved—still love. You always loved him, even after that day. “I chose to leave because I thought that was best. I thought if I left, I would be able to heal from whatever trauma was lingering. But now that I’m here with you, I think I realize that it wasn’t space I needed. It was you.”

You cross the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his arms around your waist. You knew he meant every word he said and couldn’t help but fall for him again. You knew admitting that must’ve been hard for him, Mr. Prideful. So for him to even say it at all… you knew what you had to say in response.

“I forgive you.” You tell him. “I forgave you a long time ago. Now you have to forgive yourself.”

The tears come then, from both you and Tyler’s eyes. Those were the three words you’ve been waiting to say, and him hear.

He holds you, afraid you’ll walk out of his life and you hold him, never wanting to leave again.

“I promise I’ll try not to be so reckless,” he whispers into your hair. “And to listen to you when you tell me something’s wrong.”

“Good,” you smile. “Because I promise not to leave again.”

#tyler owens #twisters #fanfic #glen powell #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #twisters 2024

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 months ago

Text

Heart Over Hooves

pairing: tyler owens x reader

synopsis: in which you and tyler recount to the wranglers how exactly you began dating at a local rodeo in your home state

warnings: established relationship, cliche mean girl, cowboy charm, slight enemies to lovers

word count: 6.8k

masterlist

I just saw Twisters in 4dx and I know I'm late to the trend, but I have finally joined the Glenissance!! Please send me all of your Tyler Owens requests, I literally can't stop thinking about him. Here I present to you the fruits of a sleepless night. I hope it's decent!

The Oklahoma air was unusually chilly for a summer night as you felt a light breeze brush against the skin of your bare arms, raising rigid bumps in its wake along any part of you that wasn’t concealed by your tank top and denim jeans. But it didn’t matter how much of your body was covered; in all honesty, you could’ve been in your favorite bathing suit. The cool air was no match for the warmth of the toned arms of your husband that wrapped around you, keeping you glued tightly to his lap so that he too wouldn’t fall victim to the cold. Your cowboy, Tyler Owens, could never inhabit his own chair alone so long as you were around.

“You doing okay, baby?” he whispered into the cusp of your ear as the heat from his breath spread all the way down to your neck. Though a cluster of goosebumps had sprung from a patch of exposed skin on your forearm, it wasn’t long before the discomfort was extinguished by the gentle caress of Tyler’s wandering hand and he leisurely traced the length of your arm in an attempt to keep you content within his embrace.

“I’m just fine, thanks.” you smiled, though the summoned words weren’t nearly as effective at communicating your gratitude for him as your attempt to snuggle closer to him despite the fact that it wasn’t physically possible. Tyler got your message all the same, the clear sign that you couldn’t imagine a place on Earth that would fill you with an equitable amount of enjoyment.

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture Tyler’s grin more clearly than the speckled tile bottom of a shallow pool before his lips met your hairline to place a soft kiss near on your temple.

“Alright lovebirds.” Lily stated abruptly, interrupting your moment of intimacy as you were suddenly reminded that you and Tyler were not the only two people gathered around the dim glow of the small bonfire.

It had been a long day of chasing storms for all of you. In Tyler’s case, he had been the leading man in three Wrangler live streams that day as EF1s and EF2s sprouted from the clouds like flowers in the spring. His team had worked just as hard, aiding in each chase and keeping all channel content at its peak. While there were occasions when you enjoyed joining Tyler in his pick up as a special guest, the reason for your exhaustion was not quite as intense as chasing after tornados, though the role you assumed was equally as vital.

Lacking in Tyler’s lust for natural disasters that was very much necessary in order to tackle twisters head on, you became the team’s marketing expert instead. While it was considered more of a bench seat compared to the other Wranglers duties, you had proven yourself to be most useful during the recovery process once the storms had vanished in something you liked to call the ‘After Effect’. Backed by your wit and Bachelor’s degree in psychology, you maintained the channel’s engagement levels and ensured that there was more international visibility for your cause as well. The numbers added up overtime and you were proud to boast that you had managed to raise thousands of dollars from online donors that went entirely towards helping the people of Oklahoma rebuild their destroyed homes.

Such a busy day had left all of you much too tired to make it to the nearest motel that was more than a couple hours away and instead you resorted to gathering around a bonfire in the dirt ridden clearing of a wheat field. It wasn’t ideal, but you were all more than used to camping together after years of being as close as a family.

Traditions had formed after countless nights just the same. Tyler always placed his chair directly beside yours as it was never long before you gave in to sharing with him. The other Wrangler’s sat further away from each other scattered around the fire, but always in the same arrangement. The seat next to your discarded one was occupied by Dani, with the next supporting Dexter, and the one after belonging to Lily who was eagerly leaning towards you as she brought her can of beer back to her lips. Boone completed your inverted circle as he planted his chair dangerously close to the fire in between Lily and your husband who doubled as his longtime best friend.

Usually your group consisted of only the six of you, but tonight you welcomed an extra guest into camp. Ben, a British investigative journalist, had been traveling with your crew for months now and though he preferred to linger behind as an outlier, you could tell from the way he sunk into his seat that he had grown to be very comfortable with you all. You weren’t sure if he would ever leave at this point, but none of you minded his extended stay.

“Something wrong?” you asked Lily, lifting your head to gaze at her as the flames seemed to lick at the sides of her face from your perspective. You worried the team had grown tired of Tyler’s need to share his seat with you (as well as your reluctance to turn him down), but of course no one paid any attention to your couplish antics.

“I just can’t go on one more minute without knowing the story,” she explained.

“Story?” Tyler repeated, sharing your befuddlement.

“What story?” you asked.

“Your story,” Dani clarified, pointing to the foreign man that had settled just behind her outside of the circular formation. “Ben here wants it for his tornado piece.”

“It’s just intriguing,” Ben reiterated, his stumbling British accent a stark contrast from the southern you were so used to. He cleared his throat before continuing, eyeing you and your husband. “Everyone else here met while you were forming your chasing team. Everyone except you two.”

“And me!” Boone shouted, raising the hand that wasn’t occupied by his second beer of the night. “I knew Tyler before any of you.”

“Easy Boone, no one’s forgotten.” Tyler laughed, not bothering to point out the inaccuracies in his best friend’s claim. While Boone had befriended Tyler decades before you’d shown any interest in him, the three of you all grew up together in the same tiny Arkansas town.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to your paper.” you pointed out as Ben had made it clear that he wanted to write only about Oklahoman tornados and the recent uprise in storm chasing tourism that was a direct result of your husband’s online presence.

“It isn’t,” Ben admitted. “But it would be helpful for context. Just so my readers can better understand your dynamic. It frames how your team operates.”

“And I’ve always been dying to know!” Lily added with such enthusiasm you would’ve guessed a tornado had suddenly formed right behind you.

You sat up from your nestled position on Tyler’s lap to look back at him, delighted as you discovered an expression matching the one upon your own face: a knowing smile. He was more than happy to share how the two of you ended up together. All he needed was a signal of your approval, one you gave him with the loving squeeze of your hand against the taunt muscle of his bicep.

“Alright,” you agreed, turning your head to face the group once more. “But I get to tell it.”

“Fine by me.” Tyler nodded to your condition.

“With help from me at least!” Boone interjected to which you sent him a playful glare.

“You best not.” you threatened as Boone broke out in laughter beside you.

“Fine,” he grinned. “Woo, y’all are in for a real treat!” he hollered, already very well versed in the tale as he was there to witness its unfolding.

“Just start already.” Dexter demanded as he spoke for the rest of the group. Even with the whole night ahead of you, there was no time to waste.

You thought back to the moment at once, recalling the fateful day as if it had only happened just yesterday rather than several years ago. You sighed happily at the memory, collecting your thoughts enough to be able to share it justly.

“It all started in our hometown,” you began setting the scene as you rose from your husband’s lap, standing beside the fire so that everyone could see you. “Y’all know that Tyler and I grew up together, but we had what you might call a rocky start. He liked to bull ride and I was too busy caring for my horses to pay any attention to him. I used to barrel race back then and I got so into it that it was all I ever thought about. It wasn’t until much later that we finally got together, during the biggest rodeo in all of Arkansas…”

“Whoa, Cyclone!” you shouted to your horse as you yanked back on his worn leather reins. Your mighty steed, a chestnut brown stallion that had been racing at his fastest gallop, halted at your command just in front of the last yellow barrel. Dirt flew from the power of his mighty hooves and at once he neighed in protest to the sudden loss of speed. He was just as bothered as you were when the sound of nasally cackling came from outside of the practice corral, your head turning in sync with your horse towards the disturbance even though you already knew who it was.

Propped atop her luxury racing horse and adorned in a custom made, spotless, metallic pink riding outfit was your arch nemesis, Addisyn Claire, with a wicked smirk so evil it could wilt rose petals and an ugly laugh that echoed even out to the hills that surrounded the rodeo set up.

“Looking rusty out there!” she called out to you.

You scoffed at the remark, narrowing your eyes at the girl before clicking Cyclone towards her.

“I’d rather look rusty than like I skinned a pageant girl for my clothes.” you nodded at her sparkling get up though really you wished you had enough money to buy new clothes for every competition. At least you didn’t waste so much money on something so needlessly tacky.

You and Addisyn had been in competition since you were old enough to stay on a saddle, your hatred for her bubbling at just eight years old from the first moment you had suffered at the hands of her ego. It only got worse as the years ticked by as she transformed from a bratty little girl into the spoiled bitch she was today and now as a young adult, you weren’t sure how much more of her classic mean girl attitude you could take. It just wasn’t fair. She had the money and the privilege to buy her way into winning most of your past races with horses just as prissy as she was. But even so, you hoped that this year everything would be different.

You had happened across Cyclone by complete accident during a storm that eventually became his namesake. After saving him, you’d searched endlessly for his owner, but as luck would have it, he remained unclaimed.

Your family joked that it was almost as if he had been gifted to you, pushed into your life by a deadly storm so soon after the tragic passing of the horse you had grown up riding. You didn’t plan on riding him, not after all he had been through, but after his minor injuries and habit of being spooked by the very non-threatening barn latch had cleared, you discovered that you didn’t really have a choice. He was the sweetest horse you’d ever cared for, never ornery and always affectionate. It was curiosity that finally convinced you to saddle him up for a morning ride.

Much to your delight, Cyclone was a natural at taking commands and so morning rides turned into teaching him how to barrel race. He was quick for a stray, so much so that you were sure he was the fastest horse in the whole state. But of course with such a gift, he had the only stipulation that prevented you from beating Addisyn in so many previous races where her professionally trained horses always stole the blue ribbon. He struggled with each turn.

It wasn’t entirely his fault, such a feat was hard for the average horse to pull off. With Cyclone’s super-speed, it became damn near impossible. Regardless of the facts, you trained every chance you got and without fail, your horse was forced to slow to a losing time in order to make the tight turns.

”If I had known it was gonna be so easy to win, I wouldn’t have bothered training this one at all. You can’t even make it to the last barrel.” laughed Addisyn as she flipped a handful of long blonde curls behind her shoulder.

“That’s funny coming from a gal who doesn’t even know how to use a coat brush.” you shot back. Cyclone snorted and tucked his head down as if he had understood your come back.

“Mark my words,” she snarled with gritted teeth. “You’re going to regret speaking to me that way. There’s a lot more on the line today than some flimsy ribbon.”

You hated that she was right. Not only did the winner of each rodeo event get massive bragging rights, but the first place spot came accompanied with a large sum of money this year. While Addisyn had enough cash to fill the colossal space inside her skull a million times over, you weren't as fortunate living off a small farming family’s wage. After a long two years out of high school, you finally had the longing to continue your education, but even admission into the local state college came with a tuition that was too big for you to pay all on your own. You needed the prize money to cover the rest.

You bent over to stroke the white stripe that covered Cyclone’s nuzzle, attempting to calm him knowing that he could feel the animosity steaming from the blonde. “Don’t listen to her,” you whispered. “You’re gonna do just fine.”

“Petting your horse ain’t gonna make it any better.” Addisyn smirked.

“And talking at me ain’t gonna make you any smarter, but you’re still trying.”

Addisyn huffed as she took hold of her own pristine white horse's reins, kicking it hard in the side until it was facing the direction of the rodeo arena.

“Whatever,” she spat, tossing her perfectly styled hair in retort. “You know you’re not going to win.”

Your steel glare faded as she trotted away, resting in a hopeless frown as you realized how right she was. You hopped off your horse and led him to the edge of one of the wooden fences to tie his reins to. “I know.” you mumbled sadly.

“Hey, stranger,” sounded a deep voice from beside you, in fact it was the same voice that had plagued you since your first acquaintance long ago. “What’s with the frown?”

You turned to face him, the only person you'd ever avoided at the rodeo besides Addisyn. The cockiest bull rider to walk on Arkansas dirt, Tyler Owens. And while the hatred you felt around Addisyn didn’t bubble through your veins around Tyler, you considered him just as annoying. The worst part about him: he never could leave you alone.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” you asked, commenting on the impending closeness of his event as you guided Cyclone’s head to the nearest water trough that was only a few inches from Tyler. He shrugged as he answered.

“My event’s not for another hour,” he paused to check the time on his nonexistent watch, something cowboys never wore for fear that it would break under the pressure of the thousand pound beasts they endured riding. “I wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“I hope you don’t mean to me.”

“Of course not. I meant your horse,” Tyler grinned as his hands tickled beneath Cyclone’s ear forcing the horse to lift his majestic head and give a hearty neigh. You never understood your horse's bond with the man as, though it sounded insane, Cyclone tended to reserve the same opinions about people as you. Even so, they got on so well for a cowboy and an animal that didn’t even live remotely close together.

You rolled your eyes at the pair.

“C’mon, you better leave us be,” you climbed over the fence to shoo Tyler away, ignoring the sign of discontent from your horse. “We’ve got a big race today and Cyclone has to be in the best condition possible.”

“Well, if I’m being honest,” Tyler began, holding his ground. “- there might be another reason for my coming here.”

You waited for him to explain, leaning on the nearest fence post as Tyler sent you a signature grin.

“And?” you prompted.

“I’d like to propose a little wager, just something to help motivate ya.” smirked Tyler.

As annoyed as you were by his cocky grin and suffocating charm, you couldn’t lie, his proposition intrigued you.

“Explain.”

“I know you’re really fixing to beat Addisyn today, even more than usual, but I don’t think you have enough on the line. I was thinking maybe I could help raise the stakes a bit.” he explained.

While you and Addisyn’s rivalry didn’t qualify as even partially a secret, you weren’t sure how he found out about the significance of today’s race. You sent him an expression of confusion as you tried to figure out how he knew. Tyler seemed to understand immediately.

“Boone.” he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes.

“Of course.”

Other than being Tyler’s best friend since middle school, Boone harnessed the talent of figuring out people; their likes and dislikes as well as their desires and motivations. Though he was a few years younger than you and Tyler, he preferred your age group over his own.

“So how’s about this,” Tyler started as he pulled off his sunglasses to stare you down with daring eyes of emerald, briefly wetting his lips. “If you win today, you can ask me for any favor. And nothing’s off the table. I’ll even leave you alone if that’s what you’d want…”

You tried to imagine a world where Tyler Owens didn’t pester you at every waking moment.

“Okay,” you agreed. “And if I lose?”

You were sure that no punishment from the brilliantly smooth brain of the cowboy before you could ever be bad enough to motivate you to win. Boy, were you wrong.

”If you lose,” Tyler repeated as he paused to lean in closer to you, pulling on the tension between the two of you like a rope around a bull’s neck. “- you have to kiss me.”

You backed away with wide eyes disgusted by the grin that seemed to stick on Tyler’s mouth like dirt on a dew drop.

“What?!”

“You heard me.” Tyler shrugged. “If Addisyn beats you today then you have to kiss me. A long one too, mouth to mouth.”

“And why on Earth would I ever do that?” you asked, forcing the urge to gag at the mention. You couldn’t even think about voluntarily kissing Tyler, not to mention being forced to do it after a devastating loss.

“Simple. I know you hate me and I know that you want this more than anyone else here and he’s good enough to win it,” Tyler nodded towards Cyclone who was loudly drinking from the water trough. “But I know from experience that as badly as you want it, you‘ll never try hard enough if you’re not risking more.”

“I don’t think you understand how much is on the line already.” you glared.

“Sure I do,” Tyler argued and you knew that he was telling you the truth. While the Owens family owned the property neighboring your farm, they had as much as your family did. Everything they earned went back into their crops leaving nothing for Tyler or any of his siblings to go to college, if that was something he even wanted. You doubted he ever would. “Losing the money alone would be tough, but it’s just not enough.”

“Why are you doing this?” you couldn’t help but question.

“I thought that was obvious,” he chuckled softly. “I want to see you win today. And if I’m being honest, I’m sick of seeing Addisyn win on her professionally trained horses. Lord knows you deserve it more than her.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You knew from casual eavesdropping that your worst enemy had a terrible crush on Tyler, one so bad that she had nearly begged her father to pay a dowry for him until one of her cronies informed her that purchasing people was very much unethical and illegal.

It was one of the reasons you couldn’t stand the cowboy. Any man that caught the attention of a brat like Addisyn wasn’t worth more than a second of your time. If you had known that Tyler shared your disliking for the blonde, perhaps you would’ve grown up closer. But the past was in the past and changing it was a feat best left unattempted.

“If I win,” you began, crossing your arms and staring him down. “- then starting tomorrow, you can never talk to me ever again.”

You thought you saw a hint of regret in Tyler’s eyes as remorse bloomed in your gut, but he hid it behind acceptance before you could comment on it.

“Fine,” he nodded, holding out one of his hands for you. “Shake on it?”

You took his hand in your own, taking in the leathery calluses on his palms that matched your own before you let go to jump the corral fencing once more and untie Cyclone’s reins for another round of practice.

“What about your event? Why aren’t we betting on you too?” you wondered aloud.

“Oh darlin’,” Tyler smiled which caused you to flush into a heated fury of both annoyance and embarrassment as the name slipped from his lips. “I’m gonna win. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You need a boost?”

You glared at him as he held out his hands in a makeshift step exactly in time with you as you expertly mounted Cyclone, snapping his reins so he would return to the start of the course, dodging all three barrels as you called back, “Good luck Owens!”

As promised after a long hour of anticipation, Tyler Owens had taken first place in bull riding by a landslide, not only earning him a ripple of cheers from the giant crowd (along with a few girl’s numbers), but also his share of the coveted prize money.

You had taken a break from the more and more dreary barrel practice to watch him do it, sitting in one of the nosebleed seats surrounded by far too many girls who couldn’t have been there for any other reason besides to see Tyler. Still, you were amazed by his talent. More surprised still when he had a whole arena of girls screaming for him and his roaming eyes still managed to find you clapping quietly near the back. He sent you a grin as soon as he caught sight of your unenthused scowl, brushing the dirt from his chops and sending a wink your way as if to playfully say, told ya.

It was then you noticed another woman in the audience jumping for his rewarding gaze, though it was never won. Tyler was simply too busy looking at you to pay any attention to swirling Addisyn.

Heat blossomed in your chest as you felt a sensation like a swirl of wind blow throughout your stomach, a feeling you horrifically identified as affection.

It wasn’t often that people chose you over Addisyn; you were confident that most of her friends were hired. And while there was no doubt that Tyler was the cocky bastard you couldn’t stand, perhaps you had judged him too harshly as there was evidently more that lay beneath the surface. As much as you hated to admit it, the charm he had been using on you for months was starting to work.

You fled the stands, not wanting to delve into your change of heart any longer. That was one of the best parts of barrel racing; training Cyclone served as a great distraction. And you had much to figure out before he could compete.

It was the same problem over and over again, Cyclone’s speed being both his greatest asset as well as his worst setback. He would build up so much speed that by the time he had to round the barrel, it was virtually impossible for him to slow down enough to finish the race. There had only been two outcomes during practice, both of which were not nearly good enough to win. Your horse was forced to either stay at a slow, but steady pace or face flipping over a barrel, both of which kept you from winning the title by making you too slow or disqualified.

You felt hopeless as you walked your horse to the arena, as no amount of practice could cure your dilemma. You had only managed to sire one good run out of Cyclone, but even then, it wasn't nearly fast enough to beat Addisyn past times on her purebred horses that were bought at the highest price with intent to win.

She and her horse were just before you in the lineup, sending you dirty looks as you sunk glumly into your saddle. The line was moving too fast for your spinning head to keep up with, the dread pooling in your gut intensifying by each lost second. You and Cyclone were going to be the most disappointing finale act in history, this you were sure of. A horrid ending for what had been a fantastic rodeo. At least until this point.

It was by pure chance that you found Tyler in the crowd.

He was all the way on the other side of the arena from the entrance closest to you, seated at the front with a big blue ribbon pinned to his button up flannel shirt. Despite the distance and the spectacle playing out before him as Addisyn began her race, he only had eyes for you.

Though he was too far away for you to make out his grassy green irises from the deep black of his pupils, he acknowledged you with a simple tilt of his head that was neither patronizing nor teasing. The cocky bastard you thought you knew was nowhere to be found. Comfort swirled around you like a gush of warm wind in the field by your farm. Familiar, yet something completely foreign all the same. An indescribable mix between encouragement and understanding that you didn’t think a cowboy like him was capable of. It sent a wave of excitement through your spine, a damper on the constant anxiety you had been suffering from, that he knew you were suffering from. Maybe your race wasn’t hopeless after all.

If Tyler Owens thought you could do it, certainly the win was well within your reach.

His motivating expressions were so distracting that you had nearly missed Addisyn’s fatal move if not for the large gasps that erupted from the arena crowd. Her horse, so pristine and primed to be absolutely perfect, had turned just slightly skewed too far to the right, kicking over the last barrel with its hind legs as it attempted to recover into a sprint. But there was no coming back from the five second penalty.

As Addisyn finished, her time shone above the dirt arena in the digital shine of red numbers and it would’ve been perfect if not for her mistake. You could hardly believe it as the bitter sting of karma finally bit the girl who deserved it the most.

You fought the urge to cackle as Addisyn exited the arena, sending her a taunting smirk instead. It was as if she was waiting for it, shooting you a scowl so nasty that you were certain all she wanted was to hurt you. Her face had turned so red that even the expensive power couldn’t hide her reaction and her premium pick riding gear started to seem much less impressive.

“Hard to beat, Addisyn.” you joked. While it wasn’t like you to poke fun at the people going through the worst of times, you didn’t exactly count Addisyn as human. Only equal to the devil with too much money for her own good.

“Can it,” she hissed as she hopped off her horse to drag it back to the corral, dirt scuffing up her shiny new boots as she stomped away.

“C’mon, boy.” you whispered to Cyclone, a wave of new motivation washing over you. Even if he didn’t win, at least you couldn’t do much worse than Addisyn. No matter what, you'd walk away victorious over her. “Let’s show her.”

Steadying your foot in the stirrup, you swung over him and pulled his reins back before leading him a lengthy distance away from the entrance of the arena. You knew what would happen as soon as you crossed it, the Cyclone would instantly set off the motion sensor and officially begin your time. While many liked to build as they raced, you found starting in a sprint to be more efficient. That is, if Cyclone could make every barrel.

You tried to block out any last minute doubts that tried to claw through your mind as the announcer called your name and your hometown.

“The duo from Atlas, she’s riding her trusty horse Cyclone!”

Eyes fluttering closed, you searched for any last second serenity as you sucked in a breath, the last before you would find out the results of the competition. There wasn’t anymore time for you to obsess over everything that could go wrong and you tried to not let that bother you. A sudden flash of Tyler’s face popped into your mind forcing you to grin as you were reminded of his faith in you. With no more inhibitions left to act as a hurdle between you and your goal, you tightened your grin on Cyclone’s reins and gave them a hearty tug. He was off at once, soaring through the open gate and into the arena.

Everything felt like it spun by in a flash as Cyclone rounded the first barrel. It was as rough as expected, but he was able to recover faster than before, no doubt motivated by the pressure of the competition and encouraged by your commands that were accompanied by guiding kicks to his side.

Focused on your race and entranced by Cyclone’s quick adaptation, you didn’t think to look over to Tyler as you rounded the second barrel. He was up from his front row seat, hollering for your success and beaming with pride as Cyclone sped up again, an even steadier repeat of his last.

“Cmon Cyclone!” you cried as he galloped towards the last barrel, utilizing every skill you’d taught him during practice to the max. He’d only lost some of his speed and not an ounce of his momentum as he steered straight for the last.

It was as he began the final loop that you realized he was going too fast, speeding into the circle so quickly that there was no sustainable way for him to complete the turn without flipping the barrel. You braced yourself for the mistake, heart skipping a beat as your horse nudged the orange plastic with his flank. Though it all happened in a flash too quick for you to keep up with, you swore the sound of it toppling into the dirt echoed through your mind and you couldn’t bear to look back.

“Fast!” you commanded, hoping to end on a high note despite the fact that you had failed. The fact that you weren’t any better than Addisyn anyhow. You hadn’t proved yourself. The least you could do was lessen the losing time as Cyclone sprinted for the finish line at your command.

The deafening beat of your heart pulsed so loudly in your ears that you could barely hear the cascade of cheers in the arena you had left behind. You turned Cyclone around, collapsing upon your saddle as you saw it. The last orange barrel had miraculously stayed in place. You couldn’t believe it. You’d actually done it.

“And it looks like we have our winner!” the voice of the announcer boomed from the speakers. “With an Arkansas State Rodeo record of 13.62!”

“We did it!” you screamed in disbelief as you dismounted Cyclone, turning to the horse with a wide grin and new found energy. Your exhaustion faded away like the moon with the sunrise. Every hour put into training, all the hard work for the best of outcomes. You were going to be able to afford your education. “You won, boy!”

Not only had you won, but your horse had run a state record time. It was almost like a fever dream, but the pang of your heart in your chest was all you needed to know that it was all real. Now all that was left was to remedy your bet with Tyler.

You were obligated to be honored with your prizes before you could search for him. He seemed to appear out of thin air as you tied up Cyclone back in the corral with a wide smile on your face, turning to find just the cowboy you’d been searching for.

Tyler Owens didn’t have his usual confident swagger as he approached you, the loss heavy in his two booted feet. While he was proud and rooted for win, it seemed the weight of the cost was starting to get to him. He hated that you wanted him gone, but if that was the price you wanted him to pay, he’d do it solemnly and willingly.

“Good race out there.” he congratulated your success, his face tinged with the slightest shade of pink. It was a strange sight for you to see, a cowboy blushing at the thought of your loss.

“You too, champion.” you grinned.

“That’s nothing to a record holder. You could go pro with a time like that.”

“True, but I have some bigger dreams.” you admitted as you started to picture how Tyler could fit into them.

“You’re not gonna stick around another season to torture Addisyn come more? I just know she’d be devastated.” he jested.

“As much as I love the sound of torturing her, I’m afraid my calling is elsewhere now.”

“Right,” Tyler nodded, his smile dipping. There was no doubt he was wrapping his head around the outcome of your bet, how as requested, he’s no longer be allowed to speak to you once the sun would set down on the grassy horizon. Dusk was already upon you as the lights around the arena shone a little brighter, casting an artificial glow on the darkening sky. “Well, I guess this is the last time I’ll see you.”

Unlike Tyler, your grin only intensified, but not for the reason he must of suspected. The more you started to ponder the prospect of him truly never speaking to you again, the longer you wanted the day to last. You weren’t ready to let him go, and maybe you didn’t really have to.

“Uh huh, because I won,” you stated with a knowing smile, stepping just a hair closer to the cowboy.

“You sure did. And now I’ll leave you alone like you wanted. Just like I promised.” Tyler agreed, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

His discontent reminded you of what he had requested from the bet had it turned in his favor. At the time you thought it was all one big joke, another way to motivate you by making fun of you. But now, seeing him trying to hide the tears in his soul from the thought of leaving you increased your certainty that it was more than that. Perhaps the consistent years of harmless teasing and never leaving you a moment of peace were in lieu of the words he really wanted to say.

“Right.” you took another slow step closer, leaving only inches of space between the two of you.

You thought your excitement had made your intentions obvious, but as Tyler pointed back towards his truck, you realized he was completely misinterpreting the message.

“So I’m just gonna do that now…” he stumbled over his words, waiting for you to give him a reason to stay. Just like in your race, you didn’t waste another second.

“Just kiss me already,” you ordered, watching as his folded features brightened at the invitation.

“Thank god.” he breathed as he finally closed the gap between the two of you, sealing his lips to yours with a searing kiss.

“That’s when I knew Tyler was my home,” you finished your story, looking away from the camp of your friends and towards the cowboy who had captured your heart. “We went to college together the next year, sharing a couples dorm and when Tyler proposed moving to Oklahoma, I knew I’d follow him wherever he wanted.”

Tyler reached out for one of your arms from his chair, pulling you in to press a kiss into your knuckle, touched by your interpretation of the story.

“Even if it meant facing God's wrath everyday,” he chuckled, referring to the storms you chose to spend your life chasing alongside him.

“Where’s Addisyn now?” Ben inquired, looking up from the scribble of notes he had jotted down in his worn notepad. You doubted much of it would make it into his article with all the rush of storm chasing that was intended to be the focus, but it was a flattering gesture nonetheless.

“Exactly where you’d expect,” Tyler shrugged, answering for you. “Housewife to some politician. She quit racing after she failed to beat Cyclone’s record time.”

“She even tried to buy him off me the season after we’d left for college,” you explained. “It was more than 15 times the prize money amount, but I couldn’t sell him. He still lives with my folks back home, happily grazing wherever he pleases.”

“What did you have to do with any of this?” asked Dani pointing at Boone who had moved onto his third beer of the night.

“Who do you think gave Tyler the courage to make the bet? I orchestrated the whole thing.” he claimed, smiling with such pride, you would’ve thought he was in on the whole thing.

“Did not!” your husband protested. “There would’ve been nothing to orchestrate if I hadn't liked her in the first place.”

“Yeah and it was my decision to kiss him in the end.” you added.

Boone only rolled his eyes. “Sure, take the credit,” he groaned drunkenly. “-that’s what they all say.”

Shaking your head at the display, you couldn’t help but chuckle as you found your seat again in Tyler’s lap. No matter who the credit went to, a better outcome to your’s and Tyler’s childhood feud was impossible to imagine.

“Last time I saw her,” Tyler began, changing the subject back to your past arch-nemesis. “- was when we invited her to our wedding. She wasn’t doing too hot, nearly had to kick her out for all the trouble she caused.”

“That reminds me!” Lily straightened in her seat. “Y’all have never told me the story of how Tyler proposed. I’ve been wanting to hear it for ages!”

“Well, that’s definitely a story for another time.” you laughed, as a whirlwind of memories played in your head from the day you two got engaged.

“How about instead, Boonie shares the time he got so plastered that he woke up backstage at a Dolly Parton concert.” Tyler suggested.

“Oh c’mon, you know I hate telling that story.” Boone sighed.

“No you don’t.” you and Tyler argued in true couple unison.

“Ahh who am I kidding. It’s the coolest thing that ever happened to me. It all started when we were pregaming in Dallas…” Boone began rambling, recounting the event with such detail and focus that it was difficult to tell that he had been drinking.

You and Tyler were silent for your best friend’s story, though neither of you were really listening as it was an event you had been present for. Instead you held your cowboy close, grateful that fate had thrown him so far into your path that you never couldn’t pass him by.

#tyler owens x you #tyler owens #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #glen powell #send asks #or just send help #I'll take both ;)#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #meet cute

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alisonsfics · 2 months ago

Text

playing pretend

pairing: tyler owens x reader

summary: you’ve had a crush on javi for a while, so it stings when he invites you on a chase and is flirting with other girls. tyler offers to help you make javi jealous, helping you realize maybe the cowboy isn’t so bad after all.

word count: 3.5k

You were sitting in the motel parking lot staring at Javi. When he invited you to come chase some storms with him, you assumed that meant he liked you.

You both had met in college while studying meteorology. You’d remained very close, but your jobs tended to keep you traveling all the time.

You thought his invitation was for you both to reconnect. But now you were sitting alone watching as he flirted with some girl who was fawning over him.

Well not completely alone.

“You got a thing for him or something?” You heard a deep voice ask you.

You looked over to glare at Tyler. Javi had introduced you to Tyler yesterday, and you weren’t exactly seeing yourself becoming fast friends.

He liked to tease you. You were stubborn and didn’t like being teased.

He’d been watching you stare at Javi all night. It was clear to him that you had feelings for Javi.

“No, I don’t have a thing for him.” You lied through your teeth. You weren’t in the mood to confide in the guy who kept bothering you about your relationship troubles.

“So, there’s some other reason you’ve tensed up every time he’s talked to a girl tonight?” Tyler asked you, smirking. You both knew you weren’t fooling him. “Why does it matter to you? You in love with him too?” You joked sarcastically.

Tyler let out a laugh that shook his whole body. He was immediately attracted to your quick sense of humor. He’d never met a girl that kept him on his toes before.

“No, we have more of a rivalry than anything. I was trying to help the damsel in distress, but if you’ve got it handled—” he started to say, baiting you.

He started smirking when you interrupted him. You played right into his hand. “First, I’m not a damsel in distress, got that?” You snapped a him. You thought you’d met a lot of guys like Tyler. Just your traditional fuckboy.

You just hadn’t realized yet that Tyler wasn’t anything like that.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, winking at you. You rolled your eyes at his juvenile sense of humor. “But what did you have in mind?” You asked him.

Tyler could see the way that your eyes lit up with curiosity. He knew you liked chasing tornadoes as much as him, or Javi, or any of the guys there. That meant you enjoyed a little risk. And flirting with your crush’s rival to make him jealous was the perfect kind of risk.

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you?” Tyler said, winking at you. You could feel your stomach do a flip. Why were you feeling like this? You weren’t attracted to Tyler, right?

“Jealousy is your play?” You asked him, pretending like his words didn't make you feel all fluttery. He glared at you. There was a level of nonverbal communication, where you both knew jealousy would work.

He beckoned you over with his hand. You huffed before standing up and walking over to the lawn chair he was sitting in. You felt awkward as you stood in front of him. You didn’t know what to do next.

He held his hands out for you. You set your hands lightly in his, nervously awaiting his next move. You squealed as he pulled you into his lap. He chuckled to himself at your surprised reaction.

He moved your legs over the arm of the chair, letting his hand rest on the back of your thigh. Your breath got stuck in your throat as his hand snuck higher up the back of your leg.

You softly brushed a few stray hairs out of his face. You started to admire him as you saw him up close for the first time. You found yourself getting lost in the small speckles in his eyes.

“Nicely done, gorgeous. We’ve definitely got his attention.” Tyler whispered to you. His voice came out deeper and huskier than you’d heard it before. His words reminded you that all of this was to make Javi jealous.

You felt guilty for how much you were enjoying Tyler’s touch. There was a confidence to the way his hands ran over your skin. You knew it was pretend, but you felt a shiver run down your back every time he touched you.

“Go ahead, look over at him. Let him know you know he’s watching.” He said, taking his free hand and running it along your calf. You coyly looked over your shoulder and saw the way Javi was looking past the girl he was talking to. His eyes were laser focused on you.

You returned your attention to Tyler. Javi was pissed that you wouldn’t pay attention to him for more than a couple seconds. You ran your fingers through Tyler’s hair again.

You watched the way his eyes fluttered softly, almost closing. A soft groan escaped his lips as your nails scratched against his scalp. You couldn’t even admit to yourself how much you liked it.

“If Javi didn’t hate me already, he sure does now.” Tyler said, chuckling to himself. You glanced back over your shoulder. The girl that he’d been talking to had left him. She got annoyed when Javi wouldn’t even look at her.

You ran your fingers over Tyler’s chest, playfully toying with the buttons on his flannel. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?” You asked him. Tyler noticed that mischievous glint in your eye again. The air between the two of you was still as Tyler’s mind raced with possibilities.

“You could drive a man insane with that little mischievous smile, y’know that right?” He chuckled, squeezing your thigh.

You stood up from the chair, pulling Tyler up with you. “Follow my lead,” you leaned in to whisper in his ear. Tyler felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

He noticed how intensely Javi was watching you both, so he wrapped his arm around your waist. You winked up at Tyler and moved his hand into your back pocket.

Tyler nearly choked on the air. He tried his best to hide the blush on his cheeks.

Having seen enough, Javi snuck off to his room for the night.

You and Tyler stopped by the stairwell up to where your rooms were. Tyler moved his hands off of you, and you instantly missed the contact. “I can’t believe your little plan worked.” You said, leaning back against the wall to face him.

“There is one thing no one’s immune to. And it’s jealousy.” He said, kissing the back of your hand softly. His eyes didn’t leave yours. The air between you both felt tight. Neither of you wanted to leave each other.

“Good night, Tyler.” You told him. You went up on your tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. His eyes stayed glued to you as you walked up the stairs.

You walked into your room, but Tyler stayed at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t make his feet walk towards his own room. He was stuck in place, watching where you’d gone.

Ignoring everything in him that told him it was a bad idea, he jogged up the stairs towards your room.

When you heard a knock on your door, you assumed it was Javi. You were surprised to see Tyler. He also seemed surprised that he’d worked up the courage to knock. He hadn’t quite figured out what to say yet.

“What’s up, cowboy?” You asked, smirking at how stunned he was. You hadn’t known him long, but you’d never seen Tyler speechless.

He took a step closer to you. Once again, you felt the air get sucked out of you. He was only inches away, completely within your grasp.

You shouldn’t have wanted him the way you did. You had a crush on Javi, right?

“You know, I think it would really piss Javi off if he thought something happened behind closed doors with us.” Tyler said.

You tilted your head to the side. You gulped. Images of Tyler flooded through your mind, dreaming of the possibilities. “What—what're you saying?” You asked, stumbling over your words.

“Can I come in?” He asked, avoiding your question. You hesitated for a second, knowing nothing was off the table once you both were alone together.

You nodded and opened the door for him to step inside. You sat down on the edge of your bed as Tyler struggled to find the words. “He needs to think we slept together or something right? So, maybe just something subtle that makes him spiral.” He hinted.

“Like what? A fake hickey?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Tyler felt his body heat up at the thought of marking you up like you were his. “Yeah…th-that would definitely work.” He mumbled, clearing his throat.

“I have some makeup, but I don’t know how to make it look real.” You said. Tyler chuckled and smirked at you. “I think there’s a real obvious solution here, gorgeous.” He told you. He waited for you to realize what he was suggesting.

He cockily watched as your eyes went wide. “Oh, fuck it, do what you have to do.” You said, moving all your hair over your shoulder.

He sat beside you on the bed. Your palms felt clammy as his thigh pressed up against yours.

Tyler tightly placed one hand on your waist to steady himself. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He said, wanting to make sure you were absolutely sure.

“Please, just do it.” You rushed him.

He buried his face in your neck. First, you felt him lick a short stripe across your neck. Your whole body shuddered. He immediately noticed the effect he had on you.

It gave him the boost in confidence he needed. He attached his lips to your neck and started softly sucking on the skin. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the way your eyes instinctively fluttered closed. He let his fingers weave through your hair, cupping the back of your head.

He mentally cursed himself for noticing how soft your skin was and how your hair smelled like roses. Tyler had gotten a taste of you now, and he didn’t want to let you go.

He pulled away. He was feeling self-conscious that he’d been going for too long. He didn’t want you to realize how much he was enjoying it.

“Does it look convincing?” You asked him, nervously. You also had to remind yourself of the reason you were doing this. Tyler looked at your neck, admiring the dark bruise that was forming. He could almost pretend you were his.

“Not quite, hang on,” he lied, attaching his lips to your neck again. Tyler felt bad for lying to you, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

It caught you by surprise this time. You reflexively reached out and grabbed his thigh.

His thumb rubbed small circles on your hip. You had to bite down on your lip to not moan at how good his lips felt. You sunk your nails into his thigh, trying to control yourself. His touch was driving you crazy.

You didn’t know what was happening. It definitely wasn’t Javi that had you feeling like this though.

You tilted your head away from him, giving him more access. He effortlessly moved his lips against your neck, giving the spot a few playful bites.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away to admire his work. “If that doesn’t piss him off, I don’t know what will.” He said, with a mischievous expression.

“So, you come find me at breakfast tomorrow morning after I’ve made sure that Javi’s seen it.” You told him. It was your pathetic attempt to pretend like this was still about Javi. You both were enjoying yourselves a little more than you cared to admit.

He nodded, standing up from the bed. He slowly walked towards the door. He was wracking his brain for any excuse to stay.

“Oh, wait, there’s something else.” You said, rushing over to your duffel bag.

Tyler looked over your shoulder curiously. His eyes went wide when you pulled out a pair of black lace panties. “Oh, gorgeous, a souvenir for my troubles?” He teased you. He was trying tried to distract himself from the mental images of you wearing them.

“Give these back to me tomorrow when Javi is looking. Act like I left them in your room tonight or something.” You said, handing them over. Tyler smirked and tucked them into his back pocket.

“See you tomorrow, gorgeous.” He said, before leaving your room.

You both had very sleepless nights as your minds drifted to each other.

You made sure to choose a revealing tank top the next day that didn’t attempt to hide the hickey at all. You were one of the first people outside for breakfast. Boone was at the grill, cooking bacon and eggs for everyone.

You anxiously waited for Javi to come down.

You finally saw the door to his room open, and your eyes locked instantly. As he walked down the stairs, his eyes ran down your body and noticed the very prominent mark. You felt cocky as he clenched his jaw.

You’d won. You’d made him jealous. Just like you set out to, but you didn’t feel like you’d won.

Javi joined Boone by the grill. He knew that if you and Tyler had hooked up, Boone would have heard about it.

“Morning, Javi. You look rough, you alright?” Boone asked him. Javi didn’t hide his jealousy well. He had bags under his eyes because he couldn’t get the image of you and Tyler out of his head last night.

Javi ignored Boone’s question. “You’re Tyler’s best friend, right?” Javi asked him. Boone laughed off the question as though it was obvious.

“Who else would his best friend be?” Boone asked, glaring at Javi.

Javi rolled his eyes, wanting to skip over any small talk and just ask his questions. “Whatever. Do you know where Tyler was last night?” Javi asked him. Boone stopped what he was doing and turned to face Javi. “Are you trying to ask if Tyler and your girl were together last night?” Boone whispered.

Boone knew you were sitting a few feet away and didn’t want you to hear him. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you and Tyler had been flirting yesterday. So currently, Boone’s loyalty belonged to you, not Javi, because he could tell Tyler cared about you.

Javi quickly nodded, but Boone was hesitant to tell him the answer. “Well, to answer your question, I’d say she’s not your girl anymore.” Boone said, coyly. Javi swore under his breath, kicking the ground.

“You’re really sure?” Javi asked, double checking. He didn’t want to confront you about it if he was wrong. Boone smirked to himself, knowing he had the perfect opportunity to get under Javi’s skin.

“I promise you, I’m sure.” Boone said, raising his eyebrows at Javi.

The look put a pit in Javi’s stomach. Before he could ask, Boone stopped him. “You care about her. I get it. So, don’t ask me how I know cause you won’t like the answer.” Boone hinted.

He knew Javi well enough to know he couldn’t handle the unknown. Not knowing was eating him alive. “Just tell me, man.” Javi begged him.

Boone had to bite his tongue to not laugh at how easy Javi was to read. “Well, on my way to bed I saw him leave her room last night.” Boone started to tell him, and then leaned closer to whisper, “Tyler had her underwear tucked in his pocket.”

Javi’s face went bright red. He stormed away from Boone. He was pissed. He assumed Boone was lying just to get under his skin. After all, Tyler was a pain in Javi's ass, so it made sense that Boone would be too.

You were sitting in one of the lawn chairs scattered around the makeshift camp. You fought back a laugh as Javi stormed over towards you and sat in the chair next to you. He was pouting like a child.

“Morning, Javi,” you cheerily greeted him. You pretended to be oblivious to his dilemma. “Morning. You sleep well?” He asked, gently testing how you’d respond.

You playfully shrugged. “Yeah, pretty good.” You teased.

Then, you saw Tyler’s door swing open. All of a sudden, you felt giddy again. Javi glared at him as he crossed the parking lot towards you. Tyler had his eyes glued on you, and Javi knew exactly where he was going.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Tyler said, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You smiled up at him.

A few of the chasers were starting to notice the way Javi was glaring at you both. Boone had a giant grin on his face as he watched Javi try to stop himself from punching Tyler.

“Good morning, Javi.” Tyler said, with his signature cocky smile. Javi rolled his eyes and refused to look at Tyler.

Tyler held his hand out for you to grab. You took his hand and let him pull you up out of your seat. The size difference between his hand and yours was still enough to make you weak in the knees.

You heard someone whistle and glanced over your shoulder to see Boone smiling at you both.

Tyler effortlessly interlaced his fingers with yours. You leaned into his side, craving that same closeness from last night.

Last night had given you lots of time to think. In between the dreams you were having about Tyler, you realized the way you felt around him was far from pretend.

Tyler guided you towards his truck. It was only a few feet away from the group, which made it perfectly within Javi's earshot. He opened the bed of his truck.

You almost squealed when you felt his large hands grab your hips. He quickly picked you up and sat you on the edge of the tailgate. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks from the ease that he picked you up with.

You ran your fingers over his biceps, softly tracing the muscles. “Careful there, gorgeous. You keep lookin’ at me like that, this is gonna quit being pretend real quick.” He told you, softly.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to ignore how you were aching for him. All your brain could think about was having his lips on you again.

Tyler has very aware that he had Javi’s attention, so he used it. “I had a great time with you last night. Figured I should give these back to you,” he said, pulling your panties out of his pocket. He quickly placed them in your hand, but made sure Javi saw it first.

Javi’s eyes went wide as he realized Boone was telling the truth. He jumped up from his chair and started marching towards you both.

“Tyler, quick, kiss me. He’s coming over.” You whispered.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He teased you. His hands found their place on your hips again. You eagerly slotted your lips against his. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

His lips tasted like spearmint and vanilla. It was like a drug to you. You hungrily kissed him. Tyler playfully bit at your bottom lip, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His lips curved into a smirk, telling you that he’d definitely heard it.

Tyler loved how reactive you were to every little touch. You practically melted under his touch. He had to remind himself that it was only pretend.

“He still walking over here?” He mumbled against your lips. Tyler started kissing up and down your jawline, so you could look over his shoulder.

“He’s gone, but don’t stop.” You whispered in his ear, seductively. You were begging him. You were ready to drop the charade.

Tyler pulled away to look you in the eyes. “D-do you mean?” He stuttered.

He felt his knees go weak as he realized the look you were giving him was real. It wasn’t acting. The desperation that he saw in your eyes wasn’t pretend. You actually wanted him.

“Why waste my time on a guy that I have to make jealous to actually get his attention?” You asked.

That was all Tyler needed to hear.

His hands slid down from your hips to cup the back of your thighs. His lips attacked yours, desperately kissing you like his life depended on it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which drove him crazy. His tongue ran along your bottom lip before sneaking into your mouth. He tightened his grip on you when he heard you softly moan into his mouth. His hips softly bucked against yours.

“Upstairs?” He asked you, as you both stopped for air. You furiously nodded your head.

Tyler picked the cowboy hat up off his head and placed it on your head. The whole gang erupted in cheers. They’d all gotten invested in the love triangle, and most of them were rooting for Tyler.

Tyler quickly swooped you up into his arms bridal style and raced upstairs to his room.

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imaginestuffs · 3 months ago

Text

Fresh Out the Slammer- Tyler Owens x f!Reader

Word count:3,858

Warnings: Reader's ex is an asshole, language, fluff, angst? my first time writing for Tyler, might be a bit ooc, sorry.

Summary: The reader gets out of a six-year-long prison sentence (relationship). Tyler is there to pick up the pieces and remind her that life is meant to be lived, not just survived. based on the song "Fresh Out the Slammer" by Taylor Swift

(gif not mine!)

Standing in the middle of a rest stop with your team and a few other groups, your boyfriend decided to go off on you.

Just hours earlier he had made a mistake while chasing a tornado. He told you that he wouldn't get too close, he wouldn’t let anything happen. But, that wasn’t the case at all. He decided to take a chance and get as close as he possibly could, and contrary to his beliefs, he did get too close.

You yelled at him to turn around, just as everyone had over the radio. Yet, he persisted despite your begging to go back. Everyone else in the group had turned around but he just couldn’t face the fact that he was wrong. As the storm got closer you began to cry, muttering prayers and pleas to anyone or anything that would hear you.

He began to yell at you to shut up and stop being a bitch. This only made you cry harder, and just as you dreaded a strong gust of wind followed by quite a large piece of debris hit the side of your truck. It hit the truck hard enough to tip it but not enough to make it roll. And for that, you believed your pleas had been heard.

Now here you were after getting checked out by paramedics, luckily nothing severe had happened. Just a gash across your forehead that needed stitches and a few other cuts and bruises. Your friends were terrified when they found you both and confused as to why your boyfriend would do that.

That brought you to the moment you knew it was over.

“You know, if you weren’t such a mess, none of this would’ve happened.” he sneered.

“I’m sorry, what?” you snapped back. He looked at you and rolled his eyes.

“You heard what I said. You’re a damn mess. You sitting there in the passenger seat crying, pleading with God not to let us die. Like I didn’t know what I was doing.” He took a large step towards you and your breath hitched.

“You weren’t listening to any of us, we could have been seriously hurt. We could have died Nathan!” your eyes were wide, and your heart was pounding.

“There you go again, being as dramatic as you can. You’d do anything for attention and sympathy. It makes me sick, honestly. Get over yourself, no one cares (y/n)! I sure as hell don’t.” he said. Your heart dropped, and your eyes began to tear up.

“Go ahead and cry just like always. I’m done with you and all your problems. It was your fault for the accident. If you weren't being a baby I would’ve been paying attention. Get out of here, we’re leaving. Go home and pack your shit.” his voice was as cold as his eyes were.

He stormed away to where the rest of your group stood. They all looked at him in fear, not knowing how cruel he was.

“What the hell are you looking at? Let’s get out of here before she comes begging for forgiveness,” he said in disgust.

All you could do was stand there, watching all of the people you thought loved you turn their backs on you. Leave you there like you never mattered to them at all.

They drove off and you felt your heart shatter. You didn’t know he hated you that much, and it made you feel sick.

Feeling your stomach churn you quickly ran to the side of the building and threw up. As you were hunched over you felt hands grab your hair and someone rubbing your back soothingly.

Once you had stopped you began to sob, you were completely overwhelmed and in quite a state. You didn’t know who had pulled you into a hug but you held on so tightly you could’ve bruised them.

“Hey, hey. Shh, it’s ok I’ve got you.” the person's voice was something you held onto in your mind. “You’re gonna be ok, I promise,” the man spoke softly letting his hand smooth your hair down.

You weren't sure how long you stayed that way but when you eventually calmed down your grip became lax. You rubbed at your eyes trying to get the world into focus again.

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you were reminded of the person next to you.

Glancing up you saw a man you’d never expected to see. Tyler Owens.

At that moment you didn’t care who he was, you just knew that you were grateful for him.

You had come across him and his team a few times, and despite him being a little annoying he was always kind to you.

His eyes held a softness you had never seen, and his smile was sympathetic.

You realized then how ridiculous you must look. Dirty clothes mascara trails on your face and puffy eyes. You suddenly became embarrassed.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m not doing this for attention. I just felt overwhelmed, and the crash and everything caught up to me all at once. Honestly, I didn’t mean for anyone to see me like this. I’m so sorry Tyler, You didn’t have to help me-” He cut off your rambling.

“(y/n), listen to me,” he said and ducked down to try and meet your eyes. You turned your head away, so as gently as he could with a firm grip, he turned your face towards him.

You looked at him and saw no judgment or anger. The only thing you saw was kindness, and with his hand on your cheek, you felt how steady he was.

“You have no reason to be sorry. What you just went through is not easy to process. I know you’re not doing this for attention. You’re hurt, and you're exhausted, and I can assume you're still shaken up from the car flipping.” He said with a calmness you never thought of when it came to Tyler.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to calm yourself. “It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault.”

It had been a few months since everything happened, and you were beginning to see all of the things you ignored. With the fog lifted you could see that the way Nathan treated you was beyond terrible. Everything that didn’t go his way was your fault. The way he only said he loved you when you were in front of your families. All the times he chewed you out in front of the team, and then would persuade you to forgive him and believe that it was once again your fault.

Tyler and his team ended up taking you home. He went with you to get your things from Nathan’s apartment. He made things bearable, he made you feel like you were important and that was so new to you.

You became quite good friends with his group as well. They had all checked in on you as much as they could. They’d stop by and spend the night, just keeping you company. They wanted you to feel like you had people who cared for you. Honestly, they all fell in love with you.

Currently, you were sitting at home curled up on the couch with your latest book. A cup of tea sat on the side table, and rain lightly drizzled on the roof.

Hearing cars pull up outside your brows furrowed, and you bookmarked your page before getting up. With the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you made your way to the window. There in your driveway was Tyler’s red truck, and the RV. You saw everyone pile out of the cars and you quickly walked to your front door and yanked it open.

“Guys!” you shouted and dropped your blanket in favor of running down your porch towards your friends. Boone being the closest you crashed into him, your arms around him in a big hug.

“Hey, (y/n)!” he exclaimed as he held you tightly. He swayed you a bit and you chuckled before pulling away.

You went around and greeted all your friends.

“Where’s my hug?” You heard Tyler’s voice sound from behind you. You turned to look at him with a big smile.

You opened your arms, “Right here if you want it,” you teased. He chuckled slightly before walking towards you and swiftly wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a laugh when he picked you up off the wet grass. It was only then that you remembered that it was raining. You felt the water land on your warm face and you scrunched your nose.

Tyler couldn’t help but smile at you, admiring the joy and contentment he could see on your face. It was a peace he never saw you have before.

Setting you down you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours before jogging towards the open door. Everyone else had gone inside to escape the rain, or at least that’s the reason they gave you.

The whole team knew that the real reason they went into the house was to let you and Tyler have a moment. They could tell that something was happening between the two of you.

You closed the door behind you, and Tyler picked up the blanket you had dropped on the floor.

Luckily it wasn’t a full-blown storm so none of you were soaked. Just a few sprinkles on your clothes. You offered your friends coffee or tea, or a beer if they wanted one. Surprisingly they all opted for coffee.

“The fact that you don’t put any cream or sugar into your coffee makes me ill Dexter.” You said jokingly.

“Well, I want coffee not just a cup of cream and sugar,” he said and shrugged. You laughed as you walked into the kitchen to make the coffee for them.

As you walked away everyone turned their attention towards Tyler.

“So, are you gonna go talk to her?” Dani questioned him with a smirk. Tyler raised a brow at them and scoffed.

“We all know you’re dying to ask her out Ty, just go do it,” Lily urged him.

He shook his head and sighed. “You guys are crazy, she just got her heart broken a few months ago. I doubt she wants to jump into something else so soon,” Tyler told them.

Boone looked at his best friend with a questioning look. “Tyler, I swear to god if you don’t go in there and ask that woman out, I’ll do it for you,” he threatened.

Tyler sighed in defeat. “What would I even say?” he asked them all.

“Just talk to her like normal. Just be Tyler, that’s all she would want,” Dani patted his shoulder.

“Shit,” Tyler mumbled before standing from his place on the couch. They all quietly cheered him on as he walked away.

You had music playing as you made everyone’s coffee for them. Swaying around the kitchen you sang quietly under your breath.

“Now pretty baby, I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to. Fresh out the slammer ah,” When the first verse started did a small spin.

Tyler stood quietly in the doorway admiring you in your own world. It was as if nothing could touch you right now. In that moment he realized just how much he wanted to be yours. He knew he could treat you better. He would do anything to see you smile, and to see you without a care in the world.

He let out a small chuckle as you spun. You heard him and turned around in surprise. You let out a breath realizing that it was just him. You smiled and walked over to him to grab his hands.

You began to dance with him to the song. He twirled you away from him and pulled you back in. You laughed and began to sing the song again.

“Now pretty baby, I’m runnin’ to the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams. To the one who says I’m the girl of his American Dreams.” He smiled down at you and pulled you in close. Your arms around his waist and his arms around your shoulders. You had never felt this safe before, and it was the happiest you had been in years.

“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time.”

The song ended and he slowly pulled away. Your smile was soft and your gaze was warm as you looked up at him. He could feel his heart melt at the sight in front of him.

He glanced at your lips, then back up to your eyes. He took a tentative step closer, placing a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek. You took a small step forward, and your smile turned shy. You placed one hand on his forearm and the other on his shoulder.

He slowly leaned in, pausing for just a second, his nose brushing yours. Taking a moment to see if this was what you wanted. He felt your soft breathing against his lips, and he saw that your eyes were closed.

“Please,” he heard your soft whisper, and without a second thought, he pressed his lips against yours.

You immediately pushed up on your toes to press yourself closer to him. Tyler couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt this way for someone. His hand drifted from your face into your hair, gently tugging the soft strands. You sighed into the kiss and he took the opportunity to deepen it. The hand on your waist had moved to your back to keep you flush against him.

The way he kissed you made you feel like you didn’t have to worry about being hurt. You didn’t have to tiptoe around him or be scared that one day he would just decide he didn’t love you. It felt like rain after a drought, sun after a cruel winter, Finally escaping the prison cell you had been in for the last six years.

It felt like freedom.

“Ty! Roll down the window!” you said in excitement. Tyler looked at you with a huge grin.

“You better be careful baby,” he said, with that glint in his eyes.

“Always am,” you winked as you pulled yourself as far out the window as you could. You were practically sitting with your legs in the car and your torso through the window. You held on to the cage with one hand letting yourself feel the rain and wind whipping through your hair. Tyler drove down the road as best as he could while stealing glances at you.

He heard how you laughed and yelled into the wind. It was moments like those when he realized he had found his person. He found the person he wanted to spend forever with.

When Tyler saw the clouds becoming more dense he tapped your leg softly as a way of telling you to come back in. You quickly slid yourself back into the seat with a huge smile.

Your hair was slightly wet and completely wind-swept.

“God, I love you,” he said and you chuckled.

“Why do you say that?” you asked slightly out of breath.

“Because you understand me. I don’t have to explain why I do this, because you love it just as much as I do,” he said and you smiled over at him.

“If it wasn't for you, I wouldn’t have ever done this again. You brought back the love of chasing, I know with you I have nothing to be afraid of,” You told him and leaned over to kiss the corner of his smile.

He placed on hand on your thigh and glanced over at you with so much love.

“Are you guys ready for this?!” Boone’s voice came through the radio loud and clear. A laugh escaped you.

Picking up the radio, you responded. “We are. Are you?”

Boone could hear the smirk in your voice. Lily laughed, “See you on the other side!” she crowed.

Tyler drove further into the storm's path, when he got exactly where you wanted to be, he anchored the truck into the ground.

Tyler looked over at you with the same grin you had seen countless times now. The one that you’d never get tired of seeing, and you imagine your smile mirrored his.

The tornado swirled around you, and the rush of adrenaline you always felt came flooding through you. Tyler's hand was still placed on your thigh, a grounding comfort for you. Despite your love for tornadoes and storms, there was always the smallest twinge of fear. But it was something you had grown to appreciate, it made you have so much more respect for Mother Nature.

It was amazing to see the look on Ty’s face as he watched everything happen around him. There was never a time you had seen him unimpressed by a tornado, a storm, or just rain on a cloudy day.

It was your favorite thing to witness. His passion and eagerness to understand these things.

The tornado had passed and you and Tyler immediately looked at each other and burst into laughter.

You leaped out of the truck and turned to watch the tornado forge its path across the field.

Tyler came up behind you and scooped you up. He let out a shout of joy, and you laughed breathlessly. He set you down.

“Did you see that baby?!” he yelled. He ran a hand through his hair and you smiled.

“That was beautiful Ty! I can’t believe that!” you enthused as you danced around the field. Tyler chuckled and grabbed your hand spinning you around.

He pulls you close to him and you reach up to hold his face in your hands. Your hair was a bit frizzy from the rain earlier and your eyes were bright as you looked at him with so much love.

“Tyler Owens, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you said and pulled him down to kiss you.

His hand crept under your shirt, and you shivered at his touch. His hands were rough, but it made you melt. He pulled away when a car horn honked a few feet away.

You turned to see who it was. Expecting it to be the crew you were surprised to see Nathan and your old team get out of their cars.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Nathan stormed over to you but Tyler quickly stood in front of you.

“Get out of my way,” Nathan said, trying his best to sound intimidating.

It was true that Nathan was significantly shorter than Tyler, and you had to hold back your laugh.

“What are you gonna do, Kick me?” Tyler questioned with a raised brow.

“(y/n), we need to talk right now,” He used that voice that always used to scare you into doing what he wanted. He sounded pathetic now.

“She doesn't owe you a damn thing Nathan,” Tyler said and took a step closer to him.

You stepped forward to grab Tyler’s wrist and pull him back. Just as you did this, you heard your friends pull up next to you.

They all got out of their cars as well and came over to see what was going on.

When they saw Nathan, they all sighed in annoyance.

“Why is Shorty here?” Dani asked.

Nathan sent a glare their way, and Dani flipped him off.

“Damn it, (y/n), Just let me talk to you!” he shouted angrily.

Tyler was about to step in when you squeezed his hand. He looked down at you quizzically.

“I can talk to him, it’s ok T,” you said and tugged him down to kiss his cheek.

Tyler took a couple of steps back and let you stand in front of Nathan.

“Nathan, what do you want?” you asked him with your arms crossed.

“Why the hell are you with them? Why are you with him?” he questioned angrily.

“I’m way better than him. I knew you were desperate but Tyler Owens, are you serious?” Nathan took a jab, expecting to get a reaction out of you.

You just gave him a look as if asking if he was done talking.

“You done?” You questioned with a raised brow.

He stood there unable to find words, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he ended up spitting out.

You scoffed. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing. But I can tell you what's wrong with you.” before he got a chance to clap back you spoke up again.

“You treat everyone else around you like crap because you're bitter. You take out your anger on the people around you because you can’t face the fact that you’re miserable. You took everything out on me, it was always my fault. Every little thing that didn’t go right in your life, you blamed on me.”

“That’s bullshit!” he interjected angrily.

“Oh, really? Should I bring up the time you told me I was your biggest mistake, that if you never would have talked to me you wouldn’t be having so many problems. You made me believe that I was always the problem.” You stated with conviction.

“Being with you was a prison sentence, if you hadn’t left that day, I would’ve died handcuffed to the spell I was under, lost in the shade of how you were feeling. You leaving me there was the best thing to happen to me,” you affirmed.

“By the way, for every time you called me a bitch, He calls me the girl of his American dreams.”

You flipped him off with the sweetest smile you could muster.

“Fuck you,” he spat at you and you kept a smile on your face. He turned away from you and began to walk away.

“One more thing Nathan! These people that I’m with now, are worth more than 100 of you,” you said and pointed to the whole group.

They got in their cars and turned around as fast as they could. You turned to look at your friends and boyfriend. They all looked stunned.

“What?” you asked with a smile. “That was my favorite thing that has ever happened,” Lily spoke and you chuckled. Dexter walked up to you and wrapped you in a hug, you hugged him back just as everyone else joined in on it.

You laughed with everyone as you pulled away. “I love you guys, what more is there to say,” you shrugged.

You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled before turning around to face Tyler. He smiled down at you. You reached up and took the hat off of his head and placed it on your own with a sly smile.

“The girl of my American dreams, huh?” he questioned with a smirk. You tilt your head a bit as you gaze up at him.

“You know it, cowboy,”

---

“But it’s gonna be alright, I did my time,”

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