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roanofarcc · 2 months

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WORTH YOUR WHILE

pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom.

warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.

word count. 2.9k || masterlist

a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!

“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face.

You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them.

That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair.

“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them.

“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.”

You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.”

Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences.

“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.

His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night.

Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you.

Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos.

It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds.

The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet.

You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people.

“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!”

You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?”

The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it.

“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes.

“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter.

It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast.

It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing.

Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk.

You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion.

Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run.

In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound.

“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.

His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?”

You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow.

You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey.

Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir.

Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances.

You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces.

You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you.

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly.

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap.

Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?”

You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.”

“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.”

“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.”

His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”

“Oh, no. Never.”

Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home.

“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him.

“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest.

Bonus!

Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt.

You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased.

“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #glen powell #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters 2024 fanfic #glen powell x reader

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month

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Like her mama || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this TikTok sound

Warnings: none!! just fluff :)

Word count: 1,416

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you turn from the sink, water dripping from the freshly washed fruit in your strainer, Topper’s voice interrupts your thoughts. "Need some help with that?" he asks, his tone friendly and familiar. You glance over your shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"I'm all good, thanks, Top," you reply, your eyes twinkling with gratitude. He nods and takes a seat on the nearby stool, settling in comfortably. Your attention shifts to the pool outside, where Rafe, Mabel, and Kelce are enjoying the morning sun.

"Everything alright out there?" you ask, your curiosity genuine as you look to Topper for reassurance. He glances outside, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, they’re all good. The water’s really nice," he says with a chuckle.

You turn back toward the pool just in time to see Rafe holding Mabel in his arms, her tiny pink bucket hat slightly askew, too big for her small head. You wave, a soft giggle escaping your lips when Rafe lifts Mabel’s hand to mimic your wave, though you’re certain she can’t actually see you.

Topper can’t help but chuckle along with you. "Can’t believe she’ll be seven months next week," he remarks, his tone tinged with amazement. You let out a small sigh as you begin slicing the oranges, arranging them neatly on a platter. "Don’t remind me," you reply with a soft laugh. "She’s growing up so fast."

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation flowing easily until Rafe strolls into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the blonde strands clinging to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water trail down his chest and stomach, glistening in the soft light.

"Hi, baby," he greets you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek. "Hi," you respond, your smile widening at his touch. Rafe’s eyes drift down to the platter you’re preparing. "That looks amazing," he comments, quickly snatching a strawberry and popping it into his mouth before you can protest. You shake your head playfully, amused by his antics.

"Is Mabel all right?" you ask, glancing at him as he leans casually against the counter. "Mmhmm," he hums in affirmation, then suggests with a grin, "You should come in the water after this." You chuckle softly. "I will, I will," you promise, as he leans in for another quick kiss before heading back outside.

Topper watches him go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Rafe’s a complete softie now, huh?" he comments, clearly amused by the transformation in his friend. You snort, unable to hold back your laughter. "Maybe for us. But he still loves arguing with his sisters," you say with a fond smile, recalling the endless bickering between Rafe and his siblings.

Topper’s expression brightens with sudden recollection. "Did I end up tell you what happened this morning at the shops?" he asks, piquing your curiosity. "No? What happened?" you ask, looking up at him, eager to hear the story.

Flashback….

“Is she awake?” Rafe asks as he pulls his G-Wagon into a parking spot in front of the store. The engine’s hum fades as he shifts into park, and Kelce leans over to peer into the baby carrier. Mabel, with her big doe eyes, stares back at him, her tiny mouth busy with her pacifier.

“Wide awake,” Kelce reports with a chuckle, meeting her gaze with a grin. The three of them exit the car; Rafe decides against the stroller, opting to scoop Mabel into his arms instead. After all, they were only planning a quick stop. Mabel clings to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as she takes in her surroundings.

As they approach the store, Topper slips his oversized sunglasses onto Mabel’s little face. The glasses are comically large, sliding down her tiny nose, and the sight of it makes both Topper and Kelce snicker. They quickly pull out their phones, snapping a photo of the moment.

Rafe, oblivious to their antics at first, glances over his shoulder when he hears their muffled laughter. “You guys are idiots,” he says, shaking his head, though he can’t suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Topper’s sunglasses barely hanging on Mabel’s face. As her uncles continue to laugh, Mabel lets out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the sunglasses.

As they step into the shop, all three boys lift their sunglasses from their noses and perch them on top of their heads. The cool air inside the store is a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. “What are we getting again?” Kelce asks, glancing around as they enter.

Rafe pulls out his phone, scrolling through the list you had sent him. “Y/n gave me a little list,” he replies, quickly scanning the items before reading them aloud. Kelce nods and heads off towards the fruit section, while Rafe, Topper, and Mabel make their way down another aisle to gather the remaining items.

As they pass by the toy section, Rafe can’t resist stopping, his eyes drawn to the colourful display. Mabel’s attention is instantly caught by the toys on the shelves, her small hands reaching out eagerly. “You want that one? What about this too—” Rafe starts, picking up a soft toy, but he’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hey,” the voice says, drawing their attention. Rafe turns to find a girl, probably around their age or a bit younger, standing a few steps away. Her smile is bright, but there’s something in her eyes that makes Topper instantly wary. He notices the way her gaze lingers on Rafe before shifting to Mabel.

“Oh my goodness, what a cute baby you have!” she exclaims, her voice overly sweet, dripping with an eagerness that Rafe recognises all too well. It’s the tone of someone trying just a bit too hard to make an impression.

Without missing a beat, Rafe shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, my wife and I make pretty cute babies, huh?” he responds, his tone cool and dismissive, the question hanging in the air as more rhetorical than anything. He turns his attention back to Mabel, who is now clutching the toy he had picked up, her little fingers wrapped tightly around it. He places it in the shopping cart without sparing the girl another glance.

Topper stifles a grin, barely containing his amusement as they walk away, leaving the girl standing there, her plan clearly foiled. As they continue down the aisle, Rafe mutters under his breath, “The audacity,” his voice laced with mild annoyance, though a small smile still plays on his lips.

Topper bursts into laughter. “You handled that very well, didn’t he, Mabel?” he says, leaning over to tickle Mabel’s tummy. She giggles in response, her tiny hands gripping Rafe’s shirt as she hides her face, her laughter a sweet, infectious sound that makes both men smile even wider.

Rafe glances down at his daughter, his expression softening as he leans in to press a series of tender kisses on the side of her forehead. “Yeah, we don’t need any of that nonsense, do we, baby girl?” he murmurs, his voice overflowing with affection. Mabel giggles softly, her tiny hand reaching up to touch his face, and Rafe smiles, the warmth in his eyes evident as they continue with their shopping.

End of flashback...

A smile tugs at your lips as Topper finishes his story, the amusement clear in your eyes. His recount of Rafe's quick wit and protective nature at the store had you both chuckling. The memory lingers, bringing a soft warmth to your heart as you place the final pieces of fruit on the platter.

Topper grabs the colourful tray, balancing it with ease as he heads outside to join the others by the pool. Outside, Mabel is floating happily in a small inflatable ring, her tiny hands splashing the water as Rafe gently moves her around. His smile is wide, the pure joy on his face unmistakable as he watches her delight.

Your hands reach up to start unbuttoning Rafe's oversized button-up shirt that you had used as cover up over your bikini. You step into the pool, feeling the cool water contrast with the warmth of the day, and tie your hair up into a bun.

Rafe glances up at you, a playful glint in his eyes as you wade towards them. "Look, Mabel, Mumma's here," he says with a grin, his voice soft and affectionate. Hearing his words, Mabel turns her head, her big eyes lighting up at the sight of you. A gummy smile spreads across her face, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

You move closer, lifting her gently from the floatie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You having fun, Bels?" you coo softly, spinning her lightly in the water. She babbles in response, her excitement clear as her little legs kick with glee. Rafe watches with a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze shifting between you and Mabel.

"I just realised you two are matching," he comments, noting your pink bikini and Mabel’s pink bucket hat that’s just a little too big for her. A playful grin spreads across your face. "I planned it," you tease, giving him a wink. Rafe chuckles, moving closer to wrap an arm around your waist and pulling both you and Mabel into a warm embrace.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaning down to tickle Mabel’s tummy. Her infectious giggles echo around the pool, her little hands splashing the water playfully. You and Rafe laugh along with her, the happiness of the moment filling the air.

As you hold Mabel close, feeling the warmth of her tiny body against you, you glance up at Rafe, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We made a pretty cute baby, huh?" you say, your voice filled with pride and affection, echoing the words he had casually tossed out at the shops earlier.

Rafe’s eyes light up with recognition, a smirk forming as he remembers the moment. "Yeah, we sure did. The cutest baby" he agrees, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

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briefinquiries · 24 days

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Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is.

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead.

“You wanna come in with me then?”

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him.

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face.

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to.

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve.

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings.

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you.

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last.

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed.

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky.

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat.

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm.

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin.

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly.

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker.

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone.

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose).

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.”

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel.

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze.

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.”

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun.

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled.

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful.

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting.

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.”

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned.

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.”

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly.

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear.

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!”

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage.

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue.

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure.

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose.

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face.

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils.

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up.

“Easy, T–” Boone said.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone.

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him.

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently.

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word.

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more.

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin.

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.

You felt grateful when they didn’t push.

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation.

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat.

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you.

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted.

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind.

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes.

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word.

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out.

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour.

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name.

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines.

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves.

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, handing you one.

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak.

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight.

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter.

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–”

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.”

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt.

“I’m the sorry one,” he said.

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you.

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth.

“I just–” you paused again. “I–”

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.”

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened.

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off.

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?”

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked.

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said.

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked.

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly.

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

#twisters #twisters imagine #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #twisters x reader fic #twisters fic

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madlori · 5 months

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On Tommy Kinard

"It's not that I don't like Buck and Tommy, it's just happening so fast, he's underdeveloped!"

*clears throat*

Here is a recap of what we know about Tommy. And this is just off the top of my head, I didn't rewatch anything.

He was closeted at the 118 before and found the atmosphere repressive. He (probably) acted like a dick to fit in. When presented with the chance to make things better, he took it, and developed positive relationships with Hen, Chim and Bobby.

He was in the army and trained there as a pilot.

He knows Muay Thai and has a set up in his house.

He likes to work on cars and has a lift at his house (where TF does he live is my question - he has some nerve being agog at Buck's loft if he has a muay thai gym and a car lift)

He is down for violating departmental policy at the drop of a hat (has done so on at least two occasions) to help a friend and has no problems fucking with the fire chief.

He is a nerd. He likes pub trivia and has incorrect Star Wars opinions, and can keep up with Chim in the movie-quoting department.

His favorite movie is "Love, Actually" and he likes craft beer and monster trucks.

He came out when he transferred to Harbor and felt comfortable enough to stop lying about who he was.

He follows MMA and has friends in Vegas who like him well enough to hook him up to a frankly insane degree.

He'll risk his own life and engage in helicopter skulduggery to save people he doesn't know...I mean, apart from doing that for a living.

He'll take time out of his day to give a tour to the cute boy who called him up and offer to give that boy flying lessons (a significant time investment) which was probably maybe about more one on one time with said boy.

He yearns for the belonging and found family that the 118 became after his departure and probably befriended Eddie hoping to earn a plate at the cookout, aside from just clicking with him.

He likes Eddie and Chris a lot and they like him. Chimney also likes him.

He was attracted to Buck right away and was emotionally aware enough to pick up on Buck's jealous feelings over Eddie and his friendship, even if he was surprised that it was him Buck wanted to get to know.

He respects and values Buck and Eddie's friendship and wanted to make sure Buck knew that.

He's brave enough to shoot his shot by planting one on a dude.

He's a lil bitchy but also generous and ready to throw in with this insane guy who's inviting him to a family wedding after 0.5 dates.

He showed up to a bachelor party when he was on call because Buck asked him to, then showed up in turnouts after fighting a fire for like 12 hours yadda yadda we all know this part.

He has got it BAD for one Evan Buckley, who he only calls "Evan" which according to LFJR is a conscious decision by the writers, which fascinates me.

He was willing to take a chance with a man just discovering his sexuality BUT wasn't willing to put himself through that if the man in question wasn't ready for it. When Buck showed him that he was, he was all in.

He does NOT take his coffee like that.

Oh and

He's a beast.

This is VASTLY more information than we knew about ANY of Buck's previous girlfriends with the possible exception of Abby. Even Taylor did not get this much development over 20 episodes (things we knew about her: she was an ambitious and ethically flexible reporter, did not eat fudge, had a dad in jail, and sometimes jogged for exercise, she was capable of being nice and did love Buck, I believe). And as for it being fast? Sometimes it just be like that? A relationship doesn't have to have year(s) of buildup. Sometimes people do just meet, like each other, and start dating, in fact in the real world that's usually what happens. It's in TV Land that you have to have eighteen seasons of UST before pulling the trigger. Most of the time in reality people just vibe off each other and decide to go out and THEN they learn about each other.

And they've got a great start. You'd think they'd barely spoken by how a few naysayers are talking about it - the loft scene was like a solid five minutes of very open conversation, the Cringe Date seemed to have gone well and again, open and honest (if cringey) conversation before Cockblocker Eddie showed up, and the coffee meetup was again....open and honest conversation. They're not gonna show us long scenes of them exchanging firefighting stories and workout preferences (I mean, I'd watch that, but it's not what the show is about).

In conclusion, anyone saying he's poorly developed or the relationship is "out of nowhere" either is being willfully obtuse or has ridiculously unrealistic expectations for relationships and/or what constitutes character development.

As for whether they have chemistry, that's a matter of subjective opinion. Given that a TON of people watched that harbor tour scene (even when it was posted as a sneak peek) and started going "wait...what's going on here...are they flirting??" might be a clue. People were talking about Bi!Buck maybe happening with Tommy based solely off that clip of the harbor tour and what they were seeing between them. And imho that loft scene was crackling. But we all see things through the lenses of our biases, myself included.

Got that off my chest, whew.

#9-1-1 #evan buckley #bucktommy #911 #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #9-1-1 meta #9-1-1 shipping #fandom discourse #firepilot #trying to use all the ship tags we have #buck x tommy

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months

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Save a Horse

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary: you and your best friend, Tyler decided to test the waters and take your friendship to the next level, unbeknownst to the both of you that you’re in love with each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The bar was hazy when Tyler walked into it, a line dance already in formation. He didn’t even want to be there, but he was trying to make himself actually get out there again. He hadn’t been on a date in what felt like ages, so he was a little rusty, but a few beers should have fixed that. Despite his looks, he wasn’t very good with the ladies. Any time he would try to flirt, it came off offensive or borderline sexist because he got a little too cocky. But this was his night. He was desperate to get laid, his hand no longer doing the job.

He made a beeline for the bar and ordered a beer, surveying the area for whoever he was going to take home for the night. There were a lot of pretty women and he was trying not to be picky. This was just to get him back out there. The sex didn’t have to be good and it certainly didn’t have to mean anything.

His eyes locked on a pretty blonde that was on the other side of the bar, barely visible through all of the dancing bodies. She was already staring him down, sipping on a drink with a straw and Tyler was wondering what else she was willing to suck on. He downed half of his beer and made a beeline for her, trying to go around the dancing crowd so as to not get caught in it.

But then he heard something, someone who stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to the left and sure enough, there you were, arguing with someone like you always seemed to be doing.

You were beautiful. So much so that he couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a black tank top that was tucked into a pair of very short denim shorts and a pair of black cowboy boots were on your feet. Before he could stop himself, his feet were gaining a mind of their own as they carried him over to you.

He finally stood at your side, but you were paying him no attention, your argument with the stranger still going strong. You looked seconds away from pulling out your earrings and hitting the man. And as much as Tyler knew he should have stopped you, he kind of wanted to see you do it. You had a bad temper you never took out on anyone who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just give me a chance,” the man said. That seemed to unleash something in you because you stepped closer to him, nothing but fire in your eyes. Tyler wasn’t a fan of how he still found you so hot when you got angry. The way your eyes would be filled with fire and your nose would twitch and your mouth would twist as you were trying to decide what you were going to say next.

There were so many times where he wanted to kiss you when he had done something to upset you. Clearly nothing had changed since he was staring directly at your mouth, watching your lips move. They were painted with a red gloss, making them even more inviting. But nothing was coming out of them. The place was loud but not loud enough to where he couldn’t hear what you were saying when you were only like a foot away from him.

“Maybe because you slapped my ass?” You replied, surely seconds away from beating this guy up. Tyler’s eyes widened, hurrying to stand beside you before he could stop himself.

“You did what?” He asked in shock.

“You bent over to grab a pool ball that fell off the table and you’re saying I wasn’t supposed to smack it?” Tyler cracked his knuckles, wanting to hit the guy himself.

“Yes,” you and Tyler replied in unison. You turned to him and he looked good. Almost too good. The scruff on his face did him well and the cowboy hat on top of his head looked far better than it should have. His white t-shirt clung to his body and you hated how much his jeans hugged his waist.

You wanted him, and bad. So much so that the man had been the starring lead in your fantasies that you had come up with every night before you went to bed. You had been in love with him for years, wondering why you hadn’t asked him out when you had the chance. He was so sweet and caring and you wished that you had been the one he had flirted with when he had a few drinks in him.

“And who are you?” Tyler asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. You loved when he got like this, all authoritative, taking control of the situation. If it had been up to you, you would have taken him right then and there.

“Who are you?” The man replied as it he had the right to be angry with either of you. Tyler felt the need to protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need saving. He just wanted to drape his arm over your shoulder to let everyone know you were his.

Well, that was what he wanted you to be. You had never gotten to that point and it was all his fault. He had been too afraid to make your friendship something more. He was stuck in the friendzone where he had put himself for years, kicking himself for not asking you out the first night he met you.

“I’m her boyfriend so I suggest you move along before I have Enrique throw you out.” You could take care of yourself just fine, but something about Tyler always jumping in to protect you always made you feel a little wet in your panties.

The man just muttered something under his breath before turning away, not wanting to get kicked out again. With him gone, you turned on your heel, heading back to the bar to order a much needed shot with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to your ass, and watching it move as you walked in your tight shorts was torture to the man. He always found himself wanting to get a handful for himself, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he kissed you until you were breathless, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d let out a loud moan and he’d grab you by the backs of your legs, helping you wrap them around him-

You stopped at the bar and ordered a drink before turning to face Tyler as shots of tequila were set on the bar, as if the bartender could read your mind. You reached for both and handed one of them to your best friend.

“Drink up, Owens,” you nudged him and you both downed the shots, feeling it burn all the way down. You both slammed the empty glasses down on the bar and you eyed him, wondering what he would have said if you had invited him to the bathroom right that second.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. A look that you didn’t recognize in any way, shape or form. They were soft and sweet, just like you remembered. In that moment, you could feel your anger towards him falling away. You could never be mad at him for too long, especially not when you looked into those beautiful green eyes and this time, you could tell that he wasn’t trying to use that to his advantage.

“Thank you for that,” you said, nodding your head towards where you both had just been. “And to thank you, I’m adding your drinks to my tab.”

“That’s real sweet, darlin’, but you don’t need to thank me.” That nickname always managed to make you absolutely melt, loving the way it fell from his lips so naturally. “Just your friendship is enough,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” you went to shove his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

“Alright,” he took another sip of his beer. “Dance with me,” he said, tilting his head up a little.

“Dance with you?” You had no idea what he was talking about, wondering if he was expecting you to read his mind. If you had been able to do that, you definitely wouldn’t have been working at the bar part-time.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dance with me as your thank you.” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, not happening,” you shook your head. One thing you didn’t do under any circumstances was dance. A ballet recital gone wrong when you were ten made you swear off the activity entirely, never wanting to be embarrassed like that again.

“No way.”

“Fine,” he took another sip of his beer. “Then I’ll just dance by myself.” He slowly headed to the dancefloor, giving you every opportunity to back out if you didn’t want to do it. His hand moved back, his palm facing you as he continued to head to the dance floor, wiggling his digits to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes even though his back was to you and reluctantly put your hand in his. Tyler pulled you out onto the makeshift dance floor and the two of you somehow ended up directly in the center. He was able to quickly pick up the routine while you were left to flounder, moving awkwardly because of your hands that were still attached.

You watched him move so effortlessly, feeling odd being right next to him since you were always there on the sidelines when he was a part of it. He’d smile at you as you sat at the bar, waving you over, but you always shook your head. But now that you were finally dancing with him, he was hoping that it could become a regular thing.

He liked the way your shoulders would brush when you moved the wrong way and the way you’d squeeze his hand to communicate that you were nervous. You turned the way that you thought you were supposed to go but ended up bumping into Tyler, nothing but a chuckle falling from his lips as he looked down at you.

“Follow me, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “Turn around.” You did as he asked and turned around, your back facing him. His hands slowly moved up to your waist, letting them make a home there. He had touched you there multiple times when he had hugged you, but this was entirely different. So close to the way you had wanted him to touch you, but not nearly enough.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his lips right by the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course you trusted him. Maybe more than you should have.

“Of course,” you responded with a nod.

“Follow my lead, darlin’.” It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Like he knew the exact effect he had on you. But he had too, right? This was all an elaborate way to get you to admit that you had feelings for him. Well, two could play that game.

You kept in rhythm with him, slowly but surely backing up to him, your ass right up against his crotch. You gingerly began to grind on the spot, resisting the urge to turn and see his reaction. You could tell he was enjoying it just by the way his fingers were digging into your waist.

You moved the two of you out of the way of the dancers and continued to grind on Tyler, your movements still slow, but harder now. You could hear his breathing pick up, feeling his nose brush your jaw, his breath on your neck sending another chill up your spin.

He never thought the two of you would be dancing like this, the movements so sensual and sexy. You knew exactly what you were doing and it was fucking unfair. He could feel his cock hardening and pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.

“This isn’t the right dance,” he chuckled.

“I know,” you nodded. “But don’t you like this more, Owens? I can feel you getting hard.” Just when you were going to really take it home, you were suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement. Your hands landed on his chest and Tyler’s hands rested on your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible.

You leaned closer to him, your lips brushing his and the man was convinced he was a goner. He could feel your gloss that had transferred to his own lips and wanted it other places, anywhere you could get your lips. He loved the idea of being covered in your kisses, the prints leaving your mark behind.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sugar,” he said, his voice low, raspy. And it was doing wonders for you. He was so hot and you were having a hard time not making a move anymore.

“Oh, I fully intend on finishing,” you responded, finally pressing your lips to his. His eyes widened at your actions, but he was quick to melt into you, his lips catching yours slowly.

His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, pulling you as close to him as possible. Yours wrapped around his neck, your hands running through his hair at the back of his head.

Your head felt like it was swimming, his lips more soft than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite make out. It was sweet and sour.

You pulled away before it could get too heated and Tyler admired the lip gloss that had smeared across your face, very tempted to go back in for more. His thumb swiped across your cheek to help get rid of it, but that didn’t seem to help, only smearing it further.

The weight of what you had done was catching up to you. You had just kissed your best friend. You had just kissed your best friend and you liked it. You had only gotten a taste but now you wanted more. All of him. You wanted to finally make your fantasies a reality.

And you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that without completely complicating your friendship and you really liked what the two of you had. It was really nice at first, to have a friend without all of the “feelings” bullshit, but now you had actually fallen for him. And hard.

“Fuck,” the word fell from Tyler’s lips, his voice somehow getting even more raspy, making you even more wet. God, you really were fucked, and not in the way you wanted to be.

“Do you wanna take this out to my truck?” You asked, your hands lazily moving up and down his back.

“I’d love to take this out to your truck,” he replied, pressing his lips to yours before paying your bills and leading you out of the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You rifled through your purse, looking for your keys and found them before unlocking your truck. Tyler opened the driver’s seat door for you before helping you into it. He then closed the door and rounded the hood before getting into his own seat.

You peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, thankful for how late it was so there was little traffic. Your heart pounded as you pulled into what looked like an abandoned parking lot.

Why you were scared of what you were about to do, you didn’t know. Tyler was sweet and you knew that he would do whatever he could to make you comfortable. He was nothing but a sweetheart and would make you feel good, stopping at nothing to do so.

You put the car in park and turned it off before turning toward Tyler. You stared at each other, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing a soft country song. You turned the volume up to attempt to drown out your thoughts. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know, but you were fully prepared to dive right in.

Tyler reached out, placing a hand on your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his lips ghosting over yours, almost as if he was afraid to go for it. That confidence from the bar completely evaporated into the air.

You took the lead, pressing your lips to his, your movements more rushed and rough as you nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a little whine and that was enough to make you absolutely soaked.

Rain pattered against the car as you slotted your lips together once more before pulling away. You climbed over the center console and placed yourself into his lap, straddling him.

Tyler looked up at you, his pupils blown and his lips smeared with your lipgloss. It was an adorable sight and you hated how good he looked in that goddamn hat. You took the hat off of his head and put it on your own, moving your head this way and that, modeling it for him.

“How do I look?” You asked, turning your head to the side and he just laughed.

“You look good,” he nodded.

“As good as you?”

“Even better,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, removing the hat from your head and setting it on the driver’s seat.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours and a moan fell from your lips at the sensation. His hands slipped into your back pockets, giving your ass a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth which only made him do it again.

You began to grind against him as your tongues tangled together and you could hear a groan in the back of his throat. The whole thing was overstimulating for him, there was no way he was going to ask you to stop any time soon.

Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did. Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.

Tyler’s hands moved to your shorts as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Tyler take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.

You both struggled to pull down your shorts, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why neither of you ever did this kind of thing. He got them down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his jeans, his belt buckle making a clattering noise as it hit the tops of his boots.

You both removed your shirts and Tyler eyed the black lacy number you were wearing. His hand moved up to run over the fabric of the tops of the cups, his fingers brushing your skin every so slightly.

“Like what you see?” You asked, leaning down a little so he could get a better look at your cleavage. And you had him right where you wanted him, catching him staring right at it. You scooted up so that they were right in front of his face and he brought his lips to the skin, pressing a soft to it.

He then moved up, his lips now connected with your neck, his tongue swiping back and forth as he began to suck. You moved your head to give him more access and that caused him to nip at your skin, another gasp falling from your lips.

“So good,” you moaned, your eyes shutting. He continued to work, having every intention of creating a hickey right there underneath your ear. He licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth.

To test the water, he grazed the skin with his teeth and you moaned loudly, reaching your orgasm. God, you were so fucking hot, the way you were able to make the most pretty sounds and look pretty while doing it. The sweat already forming on your skin, making you look absolutely irresistible.

You helped him get his underwear down and realized there was no going back as he cock sprang free from it. It was hard as a rock and probably the biggest you had ever seen. Who knew that your best friend was packing so much? Clearly you didn’t.

You pulled a condom from your purse and rolled it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of it, both of you moving awkwardly as you got used to each other in that way. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his head went to your waist, helping you move, riding him slowly.

You picked up the pace, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself getting close just by looking at you. The cause of his wet dreams right on top of him, almost convincing him that he had been in one.

He let out a moan of his own and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you did so. You had barely even done anything as he already looked blissed out. This had to be a record. Knowing that you could do that to someone gave you so much power and you got more confident, moving as fast and as hard as you could.

Tyler let out another moan, his own scream climbing up his throat, his fingers digging into your waist, surely forming bruises. His head was back against the headrest, his eyes shut tight as another scream ripped through him, his breathing labored.

His hands moved up your back, his nails gliding down it, leaving scratches and your back arched at the movement, reaching your own orgasm. But you stayed there, seeing if you could get one more from him before taking a break before going for round two.

“Holy shit,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing,” he said through breaths.

His hands scratched up your back as you watched him, seeing that he was close again. A final loud moan fell from his lips and you slowed down your pace but kept moving, another orgasm rolling through you.

You sat there, staring at each other, your chests rising and falling as you did so. You never thought you would have ever gotten to that place with Tyler, but there you were, sitting on top of his dick, having just had the best sex of your life. And it hadn't even lasted that long.

“I have an idea. And hear me out, okay?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your arms lazily.

“Okay.”

“What if-what I want you to be the only one I sleep with?” Your eyes widened at his words, but you had to admit that you loved the idea. There was no way you could fuck anyone else after that. He had ruined you for any other man.

“Oh, so like friends with benefits?” So you didn’t understand. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted you to be his. Solely exclusive with him. His girlfriend. The one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning.

“I love you, y/n,” he said, sitting up, taking you into his arms, looking you in the eyes so you knew he was serious. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned on telling you, but he supposed that this was a good a time as any.

“I love you too, Tyler,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, this kiss sweeter than the others, both of you smiling into it. “Be mine?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he let out a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #tyler owens fluff

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nabtime · 9 months

Text

Better Watch Out

Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.

None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.

(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)

So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?

What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?

So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.

No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.

In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.

The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.

They were in line to see Santa at the mall.

It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!

He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.

But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.

It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.

But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.

A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.

And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."

And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.

"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."

Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.

"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"

"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"

And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.

Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"

Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"

Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.

"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"

And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?

"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."

He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.

"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.

But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."

And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."

He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.

"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"

Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.

But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.

So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.

What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.

And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.

Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.

But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.

No. Absolutely not.

There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.

Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.

What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.

He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.

Fuck.

He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.

Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.

After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"

And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.

"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."

And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.

But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.

"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"

"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."

And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.

"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.

"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.

Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.

"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.

"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."

"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."

"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."

"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.

Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.

"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."

"What-"

Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.

Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.

"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.

But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.

"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."

He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"

And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.

Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.

#naps fics #nap shitposts in the afterlife #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #sorry we need to make use of bruce knowing actual fucking santa more often #and pair it lovingly with dannys hatred for christmas #its SO funny #this was supposed to be a funny little shitpost and then evolved sorry #trying to get back in the habit of writing before working on OEG again #anyway hiiii

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propertyofwicked · 3 months

Text

SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

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