loove-persevering
loove-persevering
loove-persevering
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loove-persevering · 16 days ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4k words
summary: in which you get stuck in a bathroom with the one person you can’t stand
warnings: enemies to lovers, scoops ahoy era steve, explicit language, a few mentions of blood, the tiniest bit of angst
author’s note: was thinking about enemies to lovers with steve and then this happened 🫶🏾
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The second you closed the bathroom door behind you, you thought about how stupid this entire night was. 
You examined your shirt; the red stain looked a lot worse than you expected, and the material was already sticking to your skin in the worst possible way. You silently cursed the random guy who bumped into you and didn’t even apologize for spilling his entire drink on you. 
You pulled off your shirt and set it on the sink, leaving you in just your bra. As you went to pull a towel off the rack, someone pushed open the door. They rushed into the bathroom and closed the door behind them, and didn’t notice that you were already in there until they turned around. 
And you didn’t register who it was until he was facing you too. 
Steve Harrington, also known as the bane of your existence, and it had been that way since Sophomore year of high school; ever since you two were paired up on an English project and you ended up doing all of the work for it. That wasn’t enough to make you hate him, but when it happened again at the end of the year for History class, that changed. From then on out, he annoyed you to no end. He was always trying to charm his way through everything, but you saw through all of the “King Steve” bullshit. Everyone seemed to love him, but you felt the complete opposite. 
You didn’t even know that he had also been at this party. 
The words, “Steve, what the hell are you doing?” were on the tip of your tongue, but then you noticed the gash above his left eyebrow.
“Oh my god, you’re bleeding,” You said, turning away from him immediately. You grabbed one of the grey hand towels off the rack and tossed it in his direction. “I can’t look at you right now.”
Steve laughed a bit. “So you’re scared of blood. Got it.”
He was completely right, and it was probably obvious how right he was, but it felt like second nature to deny anything and everything he said. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, okay, yeah,” He said, the sarcasm in his tone was almost too clear, and it made you want to drown yourself in the bathtub. “So you’re just actively avoiding eye contact with me for fun?” 
“Not looking at you is actually one of my favorite hobbies because whenever I do look at you, it makes me nauseous.” 
“Ha ha, good one,” He said dryly, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. 
“So, who beat you up?” You asked. There was the smallest hint of an amused smile on your face that you were certain would've made Steve roll his eyes again if you were facing him.  
He scoffed. “Okay, saying ‘beat up’ is a fucking stretch.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Sorry for barging in. I didn’t know you were in here,” He said, changing the subject, and for the time being, you let him do so. “There was a line for the bathroom downstairs, so I came up here.” 
You knew that he was telling the truth. The bathroom downstairs did have the longest line ever, so that was why you headed upstairs— bypassing the handwritten sign that said do not go upstairs— and went into the first bathroom you could find. 
“I’ll leave,” You heard him say from behind you. 
You nodded. “Good.”
Him leaving shouldn’t have taken longer than a second or two, but then there was a weird sound that you couldn’t fully decipher— it sounded like something hit the floor— and Steve let out a quiet, “Oh, fuck.”
“What happened?”
“Um, the doorknob fell off.” 
“What?”
Finally, you turned around and saw the silver door knob on the floor, which Steve picked up and placed on the sink counter.  
“Shit,” You said as you walked over to the door and started banging on it, hoping that someone would hear the noise and come help, and Steve joined you and started doing the same. 
However, it quickly proved to be pointless when you realized just how loud the music was downstairs. You could hear the faint bass of whatever pop song was playing through the shut door. 
You sighed after a minute of hopeless banging. “No one’s gonna hear us.”
You finally met Steve’s eyes, specifically the hand towel that he had pressed above his left one. You could see a little bit of blood on the towel, but it surprisingly didn’t bother you too much. 
Steve’s eyes, however, were not on yours and were instead trailed a little downward. 
In the midst of him rushing into the bathroom, you’d forgotten to grab the towel, and you especially forgot that you were just standing in front of him with only your bra and jeans on. 
You crossed your arms over your chest to get him to stop staring at your boobs. “Seriously?”
“Sorry,” He mumbled and turned his gaze in the other direction. 
With a huff, you finally grabbed a towel to wrap around your shoulders, and then you sat down on the white tiled floor. You leaned back against the bathtub, and after a moment of hesitation, Steve sat down with you.
Things became quiet for a few moments, and then you looked at him and pointed at where the towel was pressed against his forehead. “Let me see it.”
He gave you an amused look. “You sure you’re not gonna pass out?”
“Good one. You’re so hilarious,” You deadpanned. “Just let me see. I wanna make sure you’re not gonna bleed out sitting next to me right now.”
Steve relented and pulled the towel away from his face. The wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore, which made it easier to look at it, but seeing the dried blood around it still kinda did something to your stomach. 
“Okay,” You took a breath and looked away. “You’re not bleeding anymore, which is good. And it doesn’t even look that bad. Just a cut.”
Steve let out a laugh. “You literally sound like you’re about to throw up.”
“Shut up,” You glared at him and then changed the subject before he made fun of you further. “So, do you finally wanna tell me who beat you up, or is the story too embarrassing?”
He sighed. “I saw that guy spill his drink on you, and I went over to him saying that he should find you and apologize— I might’ve yelled it at him. And he pushed me for yelling at him, and I pushed him back, and then he pushed me even harder into a stupid coat rack, which cut me.”
“Why would you do that?” You asked, eyes furrowing at his explanation. “We hate each other.”
“That doesn’t mean that I wanna watch a random guy be a dick to you,” Steve answered, and before you could process him actually being nice to you for the first time in a long time, he followed up with, “That’s my job.” 
You promptly rolled your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” 
Steve only gave you a condescending smirk in response and put the hand towel back on his forehead. 
You stood up. “There’s gotta be bandaids in here.” 
You started looking in the medicine cabinet first, which didn’t have them, so you then went to the drawer under the sink. Every few moments, you had to readjust the towel around your shoulders because it kept slipping, which made looking through everything a lot more annoying. 
“Here,” Steve said, interrupting your search. You turned and looked down at him as he pulled off the navy blue jacket he was wearing and handed it over to you. 
“Thanks,” You mumbled, putting it on and zipping it all the way up.
You continued looking in the drawer and found a few stray bandaids, and one of them looked big enough to cover Steve’s cut. You grabbed the towel that had just been wrapped around your shoulders and turned on the sink, wetting a piece of it.   
When you shut it off and turned to look down at Steve again, you thought about how you were going to do this. And then you realized that the easiest way to do it would have to be the most intimate. 
“Put your legs out,” You told him, and he looked at you in confusion for a second, but then understood what was happening and did what you said. 
“Don’t make this weird,” You said as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of him and pushing into the tiled floor. 
“Wasn’t planning on it,” He responded and pulled the towel away from his head. 
You first cleaned the wound, wiping away the dried blood, and then you patted his skin with the dry part of the towel and put the bandaid on. You weren’t entirely sure why you were doing this for him, but it just felt like the right thing to do. 
You shifted off his lap when you were done and put both towels in the tub, so you didn’t have to look at them. 
Things became quiet, and you hated the silence, so you felt like you had to say something to break it. 
“So, what are your plans for the summer?” 
Steve scoffed immediately, and you looked at him. 
“What? I can’t ask normal questions?” 
“No, because I know coming from you, that’s not just a ‘normal question.’”
You stared at him, completely confused because you didn’t understand what he meant, and then it hit you.  
“There’s no way you’re still sensitive about the whole summer school thing from two years ago.”
He gave you an annoyed look. “It was your fault that I had to go to summer school.” 
It had been because of the History project. You told your teacher about Steve’s complete lack of help on it, which was a part of the final, and he failed the class and was sent to summer school because of it. After that summer, it was pretty obvious that he disliked you just as much as you disliked him. 
“You deserved it,” You told him. “The project sucked because you did absolutely nothing to help me and I refused to get a bad grade because of you.” 
This was the first time you two were actually talking about it, instead of just sharing withering looks and annoyed eye rolls like you two did when school started back in September.  
“You know I’m right,” You mumbled instead of keeping things silent for the rest of the time you two were forced to be in here together, like you maybe should’ve. 
“You are right.”
“Holy shit,” You finally looked at him again. “I wish I could go outside and check if pigs are flying because I never thought I’d see the day where Steve fucking Harrington admitted he was wrong.” 
He scoffed at your words, which sounded more like a laugh, as he shook his head at you. 
“You’re not some saint, though,” He said. “I saw the look on your face when we first got paired up for that English project. You thought I was an idiot.”
“No, I didn’t think you were an idiot. I just thought that you were like every other jock…” You trailed off as you thought about your words. “Okay, yeah, maybe I thought you were an idiot. But, you didn’t do anything to prove me wrong, though.”
“Why would I want to?”
You had an answer ready to go, but then you realized that he had a point. If the tables had been turned, you wouldn’t have wanted to prove anything to him either. Spitefully, you probably would’ve ended up doing the same thing he did to you. 
“I’m sorry,” You said after a moment. “And I don’t think you’re an idiot, honestly.”
“You don’t have to lie. You and my parents share the same thoughts.”
“No, I’m serious. Being bad at school doesn’t make you an idiot, it just makes you…” You tried to think of the best way to finish your statement. “Bad at school.”
“Wow, very profound,” Steve joked. 
You rolled your eyes at him, but also couldn’t help but smile a little. 
“I’m sorry too,” He told you, and hearing him finally say that slightly surprised you. “I should’ve helped you on those projects.”
You sighed as you crossed your legs under you. “I finally get why you didn’t. I was an asshole for judging you.” 
“Still,” Steve responded. “Making you do everything was a shitty thing to do.” 
You shrugged as you said your next words. “Honestly, none of it even matters now. We graduated. All that shit’s in the past now.” 
Steve hummed. “So, we’re finally agreeing on a truce after we graduated?”
“Yeah, seems like it,” You laughed a little. “Unless you wanna keep this stupid vendetta going through our twenties and until we’re both separately married with kids and we can pit them against each other too?”
“You paint a very vivid picture,” Steve gave you an amused smile. “But no, I agree with this truce.”
You nodded and smiled back. “Nice.”
Once again, things became quiet, and you looked away from him. You silently wondered how long you two had been stuck in here. Apparently, long enough for things to actually become civil between you two. 
“I’m working at the new mall they opened for the summer,” Steve said, answering your question from earlier. “Ice cream shop.”  
“Fun,” You said and actually meant it. “I won’t be doing anything until college starts in the fall.”
“Where are you going?”
“The community college for two years to save money, and then hopefully transfer to the University of Chicago.” 
“That’s nice.”
From there, the conversation was normal. It became two people who kind of knew nothing about each other, finally learning things that friends knew about one another. Although calling Steve your friend felt like a stretch, and like you were getting way too ahead of yourself. 
After tonight, whenever you and he were finally set free from this bathroom, you weren’t sure that you two would ever have another conversation. Just because you two agreed on a truce didn’t mean that you would now be friends. You had a feeling that you'd end up going your separate ways once you were out of here. 
However, in this moment, you felt entirely too comfortable, and the conversation moved so easily that it felt like you were in some pretend world where you and Steve had been friends forever— the conversation ended up in a place where you two were playfully bantering and laughing and talking about nonsense. 
Your eyes practically lit up when Steve told you the most random tidbit that intrigued you probably too much. “Show me.”
He shook his head with a laugh. “No. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”
“You can’t say that you have a scar on the side of your ribs that looks like a smurf and not show me,” You said and shifted closer to him. “I need proof.”
He laughed again, clearly amused by your current antics. He didn’t stop you from practically settling yourself in his lap to get close to him and grab at his shirt, but he did keep lightly shooing your hands away. “For someone who almost threw up seeing the cut on my forehead, you really wanna see this scar.” 
“Scars and blood are two entirely different things,” You told him, and then once again reached out to grab the ends of his shirt. His hands found your wrists, and you gave him a look. “Are you lying about this little league scar?”
“I’m not. I just think you’re gonna see it and not agree with me.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Harrington.”
You weren’t sure why you cared so much to see it. You honestly didn’t even like The Smurfs all that much. 
Steve let go of your wrists and finally lifted his shirt so that you could see the scar. 
“Hmm,” You said, tilting your head and examining it for a second. You could make out the typical smurf hat and somewhat of the head. “Honestly, I do kinda see the resemblance.”
“Thank you,” He said as he pulled his shirt back down. 
In the midst of all the playful arguing, you didn’t even realize that you had maneuvered yourself onto his lap. And in this moment, with everything calmed down and back to normal, you should’ve shifted off of him. There was absolutely no reason to stay in his lap— you weren’t putting another bandaid on him, and you were no longer looking at his scar. But you didn’t move. 
Maybe you were waiting for Steve to say the words, to break this moment with a playful laugh or joke, and push things right back to how they just were. 
But he didn’t say anything. 
For the first time in the last hour— at least, you assumed it had been an hour— things between you two were comfortably quiet. 
Inwardly, you could admit that you really liked being this close to him, and when one of his hands found your hip, keeping you planted exactly where you were, you knew he felt the same. 
It was a silent conversation playing out in the look you two shared. Both of you simultaneously daring and practically begging the other to close the small bit of distance between you two.  
And then it was as if your and his resolve broke at the exact same time because you both moved in quickly. Somehow, though, your lips met softly in the middle. 
You had never thought about kissing Steve Harrington, but you suddenly felt so certain that any thoughts about it wouldn’t have lived up to the real thing. 
The kiss was damn near perfect. It started soft and sweet, as if you both were just trying to test the waters, and then it quickly shifted into something that was the opposite of innocent. Your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and both of his grabbed at your hips, slipping beneath his jacket that you were wearing. He lightly squeezed your skin, which made you gasp into his mouth and gave him the perfect opportunity for his tongue to find yours. 
Aside from thinking about how phenomenal this all felt, your mind was effectively blank. You didn’t think about what this would or wouldn’t mean, or why it all felt so weirdly right. 
When you pulled back to catch your breath and your forehead fell against his, it was then that you noticed that the music had stopped. But neither of you got up to bang on the door again in hopes that someone would finally hear you two asking for help. 
“That shouldn’t have happened,” Were the first words that fell from your mouth when your eyes met his. 
You weren't even entirely sure why you were saying that, but it just felt like the right thing to say. What other explanation could've logically summed up how you two went from hating each other to surprisingly becoming civil to abruptly kissing in just the matter of an hour or two?
A confused look crossed his face. “Why?”
“Because…” You were going to end your answer with “we hate each other,” but that definitely wasn't true anymore.
Before you could further think about how to answer Steve’s question, you both heard a confused-sounding, “What the hell?” from the other side of the door.
You looked away from Steve and at the shut bathroom door. “Hey! We’re stuck in here.”
“Oh, shit, hold on a sec. This happens all the time,” You recognized the voice as Lisa Matthews; it was her party. “One of the reasons why there was literally a sign saying, Do not go upstairs.”
The door was finally opened moments later, and Lisa proceeded to kick you and Steve out of her house after telling you both that the party had been shut down. 
“Do you need a ride?” Steve asked when you two were standing on the sidewalk.
“I drove,” You answered, voice suddenly soft for some awkward reason. 
Steve nodded at that. “Okay.” 
“Okay,” You nodded back. “Um, see ya around.” 
It was obvious that there was a lot more to say, but you both silently decided to leave your conversation from back in the bathroom unfinished. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
On your drive to the mall, you reminded yourself that you were simply going there to give Steve back his jacket— the jacket that you hadn’t realized you were still wearing until you were parked in your driveway after leaving Lisa’s house. 
There was a chance that Steve wouldn’t even be at the mall right now; you didn’t know his work schedule or what his shifts were like. But when you woke up, you decided that there was no harm in taking that chance.
A chance of simply returning his jacket to him. Nothing else. 
You saw him before he saw you. It was kind of hard not to spot him. He was standing behind the counter at the ice cream shop wearing a blue and white sailor’s uniform, complete with a hat that said “Ahoy!” across it. 
You had to bite your lip to hold back the shocked laugh you wanted to let out. 
When Steve spotted you walking over to the counter, he immediately pulled off the white hat he was wearing and pushed a hand through his hair. 
“You being dressed like this is truly the greatest thing I have ever seen,” You said, smiling at him.
“I should’ve never told you that I work here,” Was Steve’s immediate response, and that time you couldn’t hold back your laugh.
“And I’m so very glad you did. God, I wish I had a camera right now,” You told him. “You look very cute.” 
Surprisingly enough, you were actually telling the truth with your last statement. 
Steve rolled his eyes at your words, though, because he couldn’t tell you were being honest. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to give this back to you,” You answered and held up his navy blue jacket.  
“Oh, okay,” He said and grabbed it when you handed it over. “Thanks.”
“Also, I realized that I never answered your question last night,” You said before you could think better of it.  
“My question?”
His slight confusion let you know that you could’ve taken back your blurted-out words. You could’ve disregarded the entire thing and just ended the conversation right there, but you realized that you didn’t want to. 
“When I said that we shouldn’t have kissed, and you asked why. I never answered you.”
“Oh, that question,” Steve responded, a look that you couldn’t decipher crossing his face. “You have an answer now?” 
“Yeah,” You said with a nod. “Yeah, I think so, yeah.” 
Three “yeahs” and yet you actually didn’t feel sure about anything, especially what you were doing in this moment. However, you abruptly decided that you wanted to lean headfirst into honesty.
You didn't fully understand how things with Steve had been able to shift so easily, or why joking around with him and kissing him last night felt so surprisingly right, but you really wanted to find out.
“I said that the kiss shouldn’t have happened, but I was wrong,” You told him, and then continued speaking before you could potentially talk yourself out of admitting the rest. “I want it to happen again.”
You didn’t know what you expected Steve to say in response. You knew what you were hoping for— in a perfect world, he would tell you that he was thinking the same thing as you— but you had no idea where his mind was since last night. 
“Yeah?” He asked and gave you a small smile that managed to warm your insides. 
“Yeah,” You answered and matched his smile, growing a bit more confident. “Obviously, not here because there are children present, but if you wanna get stuck in another bathroom somewhere, that could be fun.”
“That could be really fun,” Steve responded, playing along. “Or we could skip the bathroom because it was kinda small. Maybe watch a movie on my couch instead.”
“You’re right,” You agreed, keeping your voice cool and normal, even though on the inside you were feeling the opposite. “That would be a lot better.”
Days ago, you couldn’t have imagined feeling this giddy about Steve Harrington. But things were so different now— changed with one long-overdue conversation and one really good kiss. 
“Tonight?” He asked. “7, if you’re free?”
You nodded. “It’s a date.”
Steve’s smile grew as he repeated the three words back to you. “It’s a date.” 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
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loove-persevering · 2 months ago
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I Would Let the World Burn
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Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Non-superhero!Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: You attend a public Avengers event as Bucky’s girlfriend for the first time, but things spiral from nerves to chaos in a matter of seconds. And when you’re caught in the crossfire, Bucky unleashes.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: violence; injury; PTSD elements; emotional distress; explosions; mass panic; allusions to death; protective!Bucky; nobody hurts his girl; seriously, he’s a little feral here
Author’s Note: I need protective Bucky all day and all night omg. Thank you so much, my love, for this absolutely amazing request!! I hope you'll enjoy ♡
2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist
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The lights are everywhere.
Glinting off skyscraper windows and camera lenses, bouncing off metallic armor and too-white smiles.
The voices are everywhere. They swarm like bees - the press, the fans, the murmuring of people watching people.
The flash of the cameras is a strobe light stinging the back of your eyes. Reporters shout questions like bullets, flinging them past your ears and into your chest.
You feel your lungs shrinking in your ribcage as if they’ve decided you’ve seen enough. Felt enough. Been too much.
You’re not supposed to be here.
Not in this crowd, not in this dress, not in front of a hundred reporters and their glittering cameras. Not in the spotlight. Not on the arm of the Bucky Barnes.
You tug at the hem of your dress, fingers nervous, breath catching on a sigh you don’t release. Everyone here looks like they belong - as if they were born to walk red carpets and sip sparkling drinks under light that only blinds you. You feel like an ink smudge on a page of golden script.
It’s the first time you’re out in the public with him. The first time the press will capture who’s been speculated to be the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend.
Bucky spent the night whispering reassurances into your skin, but it seems you should have listened to his words rather than the feeling of his plump lips all over your body.
Your hand is in his, and his thumb traces slow circles against you, metal fingers warm from your skin. His other hand rests lightly on your back. He hasn’t let go of you once.
You look up at him.
And he’s already looking at you.
He looks perfect, tailored, controlled, dangerous in a way that makes people stare too long and then look away even faster.
His hair is swept back tonight, save for one defiant strand that keeps falling across his brow. You keep watching that strand as if it’s a lifeline. Like if you can count how many times it falls, maybe your nerves will shut the hell up.
You know he feels how tense you are.
He frowns, and it’s so soft it nearly breaks your heart. That Bucky Barnes can frown like that. As if you just told him you were fading into dust.
“Hey,” Bucky coos, voice soft, voice low, the world dissolving for a second into nothing but him and you. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You try to nod. But you can’t lie to him. Words jam in your throat, caught somewhere between the beat of your heart and the reality of who he is and who you are not.
“I just-” you manage, but it’s a little shaky, you look around. “I feel out of place.”
Bucky tilts his head, brow still furrowed tightly. “Why?”
You open your mouth, then close it again. Try to explain how it feels to be ordinary in a sea of extraordinary. How it feels to be his, but not one of them. How terrifying it is to not have armor, or training, or anything more than love for a man who could kill with his pinky finger and kindness in his eyes just for you.
Bucky steps in close, crowding the noise out with the breadth of his body, his warmth, the familiarity of his scent - cedar and cold and something quietly him. His nose brushes yours, and it’s stupid how it grounds you.
“I’d rather be anywhere else,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “I’d rather be nowhere. Just me and you. On a rooftop. Under the sheets. In the woods. I don’t care. Just not here. No noise. No cameras. No Stark in a tuxedo with a martini making bad decisions.”
You laugh, and it trembles out of you.
His smile is all softness and secret promises. His eyes are glinting. “But if I have to be here - then I'm glad it’s with you.”
The way he says it - quiet, low, as if it’s something he only ever told the wind - freezes everything inside you and sets it on fire all at once.
You blink, and the fear stutters. Collapses a little. Because it’s not you and the Avengers. It’s you and Bucky.
His lips graze your ear, then your temple, taking his time. He’s not bothered at all by the cameras flashing around you, capturing this moment, capturing the Winter Soldier going soft on his girlfriend.
You want to fall into him. You want to crawl into his chest and live there.
You let out a breath. It’s just beginning to feel okay. The world quiets just for a second.
Then it explodes.
There’s a metallic whine, a rumble like thunder swallowed by stone. The ground jerks beneath your feet as though it’s trying to shake you off. Screams tear through the air. A plume of smoke mushrooms in the sky as fire roars from the far end of the pavilion. People scatter. Glass shatters. Concrete buckles.
You don’t even have time to be shocked when Bucky already reacts.
He pushes you behind him so fast your teeth snap together. He doesn’t look back. His body shields yours, metal arm braced outward, flesh hand pressing you into his back, eyes scanning for threats.
Another explosion cracks through the sky, rips through the atmosphere like an angry god. And right after, the next explosion follows, punched through the sky like a fist made of fire.
You cough, eyes watering. There’s debris. Someone’s car door skitters across the ground like a dead insect. Tony’s suit whirs to life across the square. Natasha’s already sprinting. Sam is in the air.
Bucky is moving, dragging you behind a line of armored cars, his body is coiled with tension, his expression is deadly serious.
“Stay here!” he orders. It’s his soldier voice. Cold steel and no argument. He’s never used this voice on you before.
“Bucky-”
“Y/n, stay down,” he barks sharply, and you nearly flinch. But his tone is not filled with anger. It’s filled with fear. “Do not move until I come back for you.”
Your heart is pounding so hard you think it might break your ribs. Your head is shaking from side to side so fast, you can’t do anything. “No- Bucky-”
He cups your face, his hands stiff, his hold almost rough. He leans in. “Stay. Here,” he growls. “I can’t do this if I’m worried about you.”
His eyes tell you he already is. He will be. But he doesn’t tell you.
He waits for you to nod, although he doesn’t have the time. An almost aggressive kiss is pressed to your mouth, then to your forehead, and he is gone. Thrown into chaos, lost in the smoke and fury and shouts.
You barely register the space he leaves behind. The smoke moves like a creature through the crowd, making people disappear wholly. Somewhere nearby, there’s another explosion. The screams rise again, louder.
You crouch lower, press yourself against the cold steel of the car, try to breathe through the hammer in your chest. You want to do what he said. You try to do what he said.
But the panic moves toward you.
You don’t see where it starts. Just feel it. A shove. A push. Someone collides with your hiding place, someone is behind you and suddenly you’re on the ground. White-hot pain at your side. You fall hard enough to see stars. A sharp ache slices down your shoulder where debris must have caught you. Blood runs hot and slick beneath your dress.
Disoriented, you try to push up on trembling arms but they shake too much, and everything is spinning.
You don’t see the soldier until you turn your head and there’s a flash of metal in his hand. A knife.
“Y/n!”
It’s your name. It’s Bucky’s voice. It’s not a shout. It’s a roar. As if it was ripped out of his chest. As if he’s afraid of what he’ll find when he gets to you.
From fifty yards away, across smoke and bodies and fire, he sees the blood blooming on your sleeve. Sees your fingers twitch as you try to sit up. Sees the man with the knife coming too close.
And he is barreling through the smoke like something unholy, eyes wild, teeth clenched, hands balled to fists. The light behind his eyes just snaps.
He moves as though he’s been set free. No hesitation. No fear. No softness left in him. His face is stone, is fury, is death, is Winter Soldier. His arm gleams under the flames, a ghost of his past resurrected in defense of his present.
Bucky hits the guy with bone-crushing force, enough to send teeth skittering across pavement. A scream echoes once before it’s cut off. Another blow. Another. Fist to face. Elbow to jaw. A crunch that sounds like death and rage all rolled into one. His vibranium hand wraps around the man’s throat, and you swear you see something flash in his eyes - something ancient and broken - before Bucky picks him up and slams him against a crumbling wall. Again. And again.
It’s not strategy. It’s not mercy. It’s pure rage.
Somewhere, Steve yells his name like a warning.
Bucky doesn’t stop.
“Bucky-” you croak, blood warm down your arm. You try to sit up.
In an instant, he turns back to you, easing up on his brutal hold and the soldier crumples to the ground. Bucky’s whole body is tight with adrenaline, his breath sawing in and out as though he ran through a warzone - which he kind of did. For you. His eyes find yours and shatter.
He’s at your side in half a breath.
“Baby,” he whispers, hands on your face, on your shoulder, trembling now. “No, no, no. You weren’t supposed to be- I told you to stay-”
“I tried,” you defend weakly, dizzy. “I didn’t- I’m okay. I think. Just- grazed me, maybe-”
But he’s not hearing you. Not through the panic tearing holes in his composure. His hands flutter, unsure where to land without hurting you more. His voice drops, gravelly and hushed. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. Shit, I should’ve known-”
“Hey.” You grab his wrists. “Bucky.”
He stills, but he won’t meet your eyes. Your thumb brushes the inside of his wrist. “I’m okay.”
But he’s too far in his head.
He wraps you in his arms in seconds, cradles you as if you’re made of moonlight and scripture, as if you’re hallowed and half-broken and held together by threads only he can see.
His metal hand supports your back, curved protectively around your spine. His other hand is pressing your legs into his chest.
The darkening sky is still full of smoke and sirens.
Colors smear across the sky like blood in water. Reds and blues. Shouting and static. Flashing lights and fractured ground. Somewhere nearby, someone is screaming. Somewhere farther, something explodes.
But not for him anymore. He doesn’t seem to hear anything. Doesn’t seem to listen to anything other than your breathing, your pulse.
He walks fast, but carefully. Erratic feet cut through rubble, his jaw is locked so hard, his body so rigid, he surely is in pain from holding all that tension. His eyes are storm-dark and unblinking. No one stops him. Not Steve. Not Tony. Not even the medics who see the look on his face and take a cautious step back as though maybe the devil borrowed his bones tonight.
He never trusted any random medic to look you over. It has to be someone he knows.
You whisper his name.
Soft. Breathless. Almost an apology.
And he almost drops to his knees.
“I’ve got you,” he rasps, hoarse and urgent. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
You know you are. But he doesn’t.
Your fingers curl in the collar of his suit jacket. His real name - James - lives on your tongue but never quite makes it out because he’s holding you too close, and perhaps saying his name might crush him completely.
He smells like smoke and ash and steel and blood. Your temple is tucked against the curve of his neck, where his pulse thunders beneath the surface. He’s warm and shaking.
He bursts into the quinjet that brought you here like a man on fire, like a man trying to outpace grief, and he yells something sharp. He lays you down - reluctantly, tenderly, surrendering - onto a stretcher, but his hands don’t stop touching you.
He’s a storm with a purpose, and that purpose is you.
You, safe.
You, whole.
You, alive.
“Bucky,” you try to ease, blinking up at him, face pale under flickering emergency lights. “I told you, baby. It’s not that bad.” Your voice is soft. Slow.
“You were on the ground.” His voice cracks.
“I was on the ground for like two seconds-”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It stopped, baby. Okay? There’s no fresh blood.” You are close to whispering.
Bucky doesn’t seem eased, though. He sits beside you. Big body bent in half, elbows on knees, one trembling hand reaching to gently - so, so gently - brush your hair from your forehead.
And then he says it.
“I would’ve burned the whole goddamn city to get to you.” Quiet. Like a vow. Like a confession. Like faith. Like a truth, he doesn’t know how to carry anymore. “I would’ve torn down buildings with my bare hands if I didn’t see your breathing. I don’t care who saw. I don’t care what they think-” his voice breaks, his breaths spill all over his words. “I can’t be okay without you.”
You stare up at him. Your throat is tight, eyes are stinging. Because he doesn’t say things like that. Not often. Not out loud. You see it in his eyes every day, in the way he looks at you, in the way he treats you. But it’s something else entirely to hear him form those words and let his tongue roll them out.
He presses his forehead to yours. His breath ghosts over your lips. His eyes are closed. His hand cups the back of your head.
He’s holding you so close to him, as if he’s never intending to let go ever again.
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loove-persevering · 2 months ago
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Straight guys who use tumblr are the funniest people ever literally how did you end up here
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loove-persevering · 3 months ago
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Do not write fanfiction. One second you're normal and the next you're downloading a calendar from 2004 and tearing your hair out over what specific date every event in your fic happens
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loove-persevering · 3 months ago
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an old drunk man told me to enjoy my life and have fun because I’m only 24 and I have so many years and so much life ahead of me and then he went “and you know what? in ten years when you’re 34 you’ll still be young and have your whole life ahead of you” and it was really comforting to me
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loove-persevering · 5 months ago
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Peter telling Rose to forget him and not go looking for him if she hears he’s in trouble after telling her she means everything to him like their ENTIRE dynamic for both seasons hasn’t been
Rose. NO. ROSE YES 👹
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loove-persevering · 9 months ago
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I think we as a fandom deserve at least a snippet of Xaden's POV from Iron Flame when he finds out that Violet is being tortured by Varrish.
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loove-persevering · 10 months ago
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the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!
“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.
Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.
“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.
“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”
They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”
Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”
“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”
It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 
You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.
He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.
“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.
With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”
Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”
You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.
“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.
Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”
You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”
“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.
By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 
“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”
You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 
“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”
Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”
Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”
“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”
He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”
“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”
From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.
“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”
You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 
“Ty?”
He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”
“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”
Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”
The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 
You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”
“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”
Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”
Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”
“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”
He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”
You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 
“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 
“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.
You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.
You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 
“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.
It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”
Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 
You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 
“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 
“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.
“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”
You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 
It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 
He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.
“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.
You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.
“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 
But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.
The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 
“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.
Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.
When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.
You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”
You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.
“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”
You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 
“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”
Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.
Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”
You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 
“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”
You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 
Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”
“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 
You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 
“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.
Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”
You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”
You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 
It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.
“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”
You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”
You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.
“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”
“I wasn’t flirting–”
“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”
You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”
Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”
For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 
“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.
You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.
He frowns. “Why is that?”
You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”
As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 
“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.
You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”
Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 
“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.
You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   
“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 
“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 
You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”
Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”
“You’d do that?”
He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”
“And what you said over the radio this morning?”
“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”
“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”
Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”
You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.
“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.
Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”
“Name it.”
“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”
You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”
“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”
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loove-persevering · 10 months ago
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mayberry | t.o
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tyler owens x fem!reader
based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.
warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.
w/c: 1.8k
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.
tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.
a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.
tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.
that’s why he took such a liking to you.
tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.
till you began chasing with him.
since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.
before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.
“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.
“you think she’ll say yes?”
tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.
tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.
he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.
the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.
“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”
there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.
tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.
“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.
“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.
you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.
there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”
“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”
“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.
you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”
you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”
you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.
the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.
tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.
its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.
“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.
“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.
“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.
lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”
“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.
“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.
tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.
his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.
there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.
the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.
the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.
pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.
“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.
“hold on tight!” you scream.
the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.
tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.
the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.
tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.
tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.
“y/n!” he hollers.
“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.
tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.
he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.
finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.
his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.
as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.
he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.
"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."
you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”
tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”
boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”
tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.
“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.
“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.
his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”
tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.
you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.
“what?” you look up at him.
and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.
“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.
“i would love to live with you.”
tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.
“now i just needa marry you.”
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loove-persevering · 11 months ago
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ADHD is so funny it's like I diagnose you with lazy inconsiderate fuckup disease. And it's incurable. Here's meth
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loove-persevering · 11 months ago
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GLEN POWELL as TYLER OWENS
Twisters (2024) dir. Lee Isaac Chung
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loove-persevering · 1 year ago
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Armin Blasbichler
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loove-persevering · 1 year ago
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+ bonus
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loove-persevering · 1 year ago
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loove-persevering · 1 year ago
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THEY ARE THE SAME
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loove-persevering · 2 years ago
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social media has really warped our perception of creativity and hobbies. Stop doing things to post them. Just write. Just journal. Just sketch. Just read. Just annotate. Just sing. Just crochet. Just do the thing you’re going to do with the assumption no one will ever see or know you did it. Stop performing. Just enjoy it.
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loove-persevering · 2 years ago
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really starting to undestand old people these days. i love laetters. love packages. terrified of my email inbox
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