#stormchaser reader

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 17/?)

Series Masterlist

116 ac

Daemons pov

I storm into my tent after beating that messenger. 

My brother thinks he can kick me out of his court, and as soon as glory is on the horizon take what I earned? My glory? No, I'll make a fool of him. I think as I throw my helmet onto my bed where a little squeak comes. 

I turn to see the whore I brought to my bed last night still there. She isn't what I usually go for with her freckled skin and flaming orange hair. But when you're on a battlefield you don't get too choosy with a willing cunt.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask in an annoyed tone which makes her eyes go big.

“I-I was asleep.” She says quickly as she reaches for her loose fitting linen dress. 

I take in the style of dress and remember she isn't a whore but one of the lords personal maids. 

Same difference. I think as I turn away from her as she continues to apologize and clumsily puts her clothes back on. 

“Just go, I don't have time for this.” I hiss which makes her quickly scurry out of the tent with one final sorry leaving her lips. 

I look down at my battle plan and sigh in defeat. 

It truly is a suicide mission. 

I sit there for a while calculating what needs to be done and what doesn't when someone calls for me from outside my tent. 

“A letter for you, my Prince.” The boy says and I can't help but roll my eyes. 

“Yes I am well aware.” I respond in a tone I know has this boy shaking in his little boots. 

But strangely he stays. “I think you'll want  to see this one, my Prince. It's from the Princess.” 

I freeze, turning to look back at the boy who holds a scroll. 

“Which one?” I ask even though I already know. 

“Only one of them sends you letters regularly at that.” He says holding it out for me. 

I snatch it from him waving him away as I look down at the seal. 

It's yours. You had gotten a wax seal at some point, most likely because my brother was tired of you asking to use his. It's the Targaryen symbol, but you never use red or black, always pink or purple, sometimes even white. 

Never did like our harsh colors. I think with a smile as I move over to my desk, setting your letter down. 

I then sit down and open a drawer where I keep each and every one of your letters. They are one of the only things that keep me going, but also one of the things that gives me the most grief. For with each letter I see you grow, mature, but I can't see you do it, only through your words. 

I grab your first letter quickly, it's so worn down from how often I open and close it but I don't care. It's important. 

I open it with care making sure the now flimsy paper doesn't tear and read your scribbled words. 

Dear Kepus

I miss you. A lot. Papa doesn't talk to me anymore, not even at super. Nyra says mean things. Like how I'm not needed here. Why doesn't she love me? Did I do something bad? Why did Papa make you leave? Why won't you come back? I have so many questions but no one wants to answer them. 

Papa says I'm gonna be heir. That it's important that I am. But I don't want to be heir. I want to be me. 

I miss you. Please write back soon. 

I always have to push back tears when I read this. You were so young, so confused. But it also always brings a smile to my face seeing your scribbled writing and the random drops of ink as you learned how to use a quill. 

I reach for another letter, one that always seems to make my blood boil. 

Dear Kepus

Aegon's one today, he's adorable. Papa has a large feast planned to celebrate him. There will be jesters, actors, and some people called acrobats. It's suppose to be lots of fun. 

I requested a new dress for it, Papa said yes. But I'm confused, all the fabrics are red or black. I had asked for a pink or purple dress. When I asked Papa he said I have to wear our house colors now. So I make us look strong and united. I'm not sure how a dress will do this but he seems sure it will. 

What do you think? Is a red dress really going to change so much over a purple one? 

I know you don't like me asking, but I need to know. How is the war going? Are you alright? You're not hurt or injured are you? I'm so worried about you I have a hard time sleeping, especially when Papa’s council talks about how horrible it's going. 

Please say you're alright. And tell the truth this time, because I know your shoulder got hurt. Papa got a letter from Lord Corlys, Laena’s Papa. It said your chest was burned, bad. That you almost died because of the injury. So no lying, didn't anyone teach you that's rude? 

I miss you, please write soon. 

I sigh when I finish the letter. I always felt like this was the beginning of Viserys' changes of you. It didn't take long for that day on for you to always get a new red dress. It broke my heart because though I always thought red was your color you never cared for it much. Preferring pink, purple, blue, even yellow over our house colors. 

He's trying to make you into what he wants you to be, and it infuriates me. But what kills me is that you know of my pain. I swore I would come back, I could only imagine the fear you felt in that moment. Perhaps even the betrayal. 

And with that thought I break the wax seal and slowly open your latest letter.

Dear Kepus

I'm ten now, and there was a huge celebration. I got to wear a white dress with red Myrish lace. Ali said I looked ethereal and Father said I looked lovely. There were a lot of people there, most I didn't know but they said nice things and gave gifts. But sadly I didn't get the one I wanted. My book about Daenys is falling apart. The maesters say I should just get a new one. But I don't know where you got this one, and neither does Father. He says I don't need the pictures but I love them. Do you think you could tell me where you got the book? I just want to read my favorite story again. 

Aegon is three, he's always running. Father says that's because he's a boy, but I think it's just because he's Aegon. He's been sad though, his egg hasn't hatched. Rhaenyra gave it from Syrax's clutch but for some reason it just won't hatch. Maybe when you get back you can look at it and see why. 

Have I told you about Helaena? She's so cute! She has chubby cheeks, silver hair, and violet eyes. They look so different compared to Aegon's periwinkle ones. She likes quiet though, and Aegon likes to be loud. So she gets startled a lot, but we're trying to explain that he needs to be calmer around Helaena. It's a slow process though because so used to being as loud as he wants. It's a big change for him.

Stormchaser laid another clutch, but they were all stone again. I don't know why, when she and Caraxes were together they were all perfect. But now they are all stone and she's so sad. It hurts seeing her so sad without Caraxes. 

One last thing, Father wants to reinstate me as heir. But he wants you here when he does it. So he said he's bringing tropes to help you. Be nice to them, they're just trying to help. 

I miss you, come home soon.

I sigh and look down thinking over each word. I can't help but chuckle about your book. You had always loved Daenys, if people thought Rhaenyra loved Visenya they haven't seen nor heard you talk about Daenys the Dreamer.

She is your idol, in your words. She saved us so we can be here today. I can't remember how many spats you and Rhaenyra have had over who was more important in the Targaryen family. But at the end of the day, I have to agree with you. If it weren't for Daenys our house would be ash in the wind never to be heard of again like so many other Valyrian houses. 

But something I've noticed is how in each letter since you've gotten your younger siblings, you always want to talk about them. You truly are just an excited big sister wanting to show off her younger siblings. 

Though the thing that hurts most is watching you grow only through your writing. How things used to be so misspelled and scratchy upon the paper is now refined and perfectly spelled. It hurts not knowing how you look now and only having the frail little girl who screamed for me to come back to remember as my last memory of your face. 

But three things stuck out to me, your dragon hasn't been laying viable eggs ever since I and Caraxes left. And then there is the fact your Father is trying to use you to make me behave. And sadly it's working  But the thing that sticks out the most is your last line. 

I miss you, come home soon. 

You have never sent this, it was always write soon, never come home. And for some reason, that one line makes me stand up and look at the battle plan one last time. 

It isn't the worst plan I've seen. I think before walking out of my tent towards Lord Corlys to get our troops moving to their correct places. 

Your pov

I sit on the settee holding Helaena. She looks adorable with her chubby cheeks and dark violet eyes that almost look like wine. 

“She's so quiet. I thought she would do more.” Aegon says from beside me. He looks down at her with curiosity and apprehension because when he plays she usually starts crying. 

I turn to look at him as he assesses Helaena with a wary look. 

“You were like this, you just screamed more.” I tease which makes him gasp with his eyes wide and a scowl on his lips making it very clear his dislike of my words. 

“I did not!” He yells but thankfully it doesn't startle Helaena this time. 

“Well do you remember what you were like, my Love?” Ali asks from her spot in front of her vanity. Her maids braid her hair in intricate designs. 

Something fit for a Queen. The words Father always says each time he watches my maids braid mine. He says they have to look perfect or else it will give or house judgment. I'm not sure how hair or dresses changes so much in the way the court looks at our house but Father is insistent. 

“Well, no, but I don't scream.” Aegon says animatedly. This time a whimper comes from Helaena at his raised voice. 

“Of course you don't.” Ali says with a teasing grin before standing up and walking towards us. She takes one look at Helaena's scrunched up face and reaches down to pick her up. “And what have I said about keeping your voice down while Helaena sleeps?” 

Aegon looks down at the gentle reminder. “To try and be calm. Sorry Mama, I really am trying.” He says as his lower lip wobbles. 

“I know you are, and you're doing so well. I know it's hard to real in all your joy.” She says as she strokes her fingers through his hair calming him down. 

He looks up with a pout while nodding his head. “Yeah.” Is all he says as he leans into Ali's touch. 

I look up at her taking in her dress that is black with a red bodice and long red sleeves. She looks beautiful in it, but it doesn't feel like it was made for her.

I then look down at my dress that is a deep scarlet with gold embroidery of flowers along the sleeves and bodice. It's also a very beautiful dress, but just like Ali's it just isn't me. 

“Your sister sent a raven, she says there has yet to be a match made and that she is…enjoying this trip. She should be at Storms End now as we speak.” Ali says and I can tell she changed a lot of words from what Rhaenyra actually sent. 

“I'm glad she's enjoying it.” Is all I say before turning to look at the books I need to study. 

Can't hold Helaena forever, you have to get this done. I think before picking up the book on how to sit on the throne properly. I never realized there were so many ways to do this wrong, but supposedly Maester Huebert does. 

“Has your Uncle sent anything back yet?” Ali says as she tries and calms Helaena down after a maid accidentally dropped a chamber pot. Thankfully it was clean. 

“No, not yet, though it usually takes a bit because of the war.” I say with a frown. It's been two weeks since I sent my raven. I know I should be patient but the last time he took this long he got hurt. And some part of me worries if he is even alive.

No you would know if he died, you would know. I think with urgency hoping to throw that awful thought out of my mind for good. 

Just as I think this a resounding screech reaches my ears. 

I know that sounds. I think clambering towards the window to see if my kind is playing tricks on me or not. 

“What's that long red thing?” I hear Aegon say and I know that what I'm seeing is true. 

“He's back.” I whisper to myself before turning to Ali who whispers to her maids. 

“I am needed in the throne room, you three stay here. Though your Father may wish for you to come as well but as of now stay here and watch after your siblings and study.” She says before walking out of her chambers.

I have to force myself to not run after her. Because I know why she made me stay. Just because Caraxes is back, doesn't mean Kepus is. And she doesn't want me to get hurt hoping he's back. 

So instead I turn towards Aegon who stares at the door confused and hold a hand out for him. 

“Why don't you practice your letters while I study? It could be fun.” I suggest and I can tell he doesn't like the idea but he nods anyways taking my hand as we walk back to the settee. 

Please be back, please be alive. I pray hoping that whatever gods are out there hear me and make my prayers come true. 

I feel tense as I walk towards the royal gardens. I can't help but try and remember what he looked like but all I get is hazy images and it hurts not knowing what he looked like. I dare not even try and remember what Mama looked like, for I know it will only shatter my heart completely. 

I look down at my bracelet taking in the pearls and rubies. I then fiddle with my necklace trying to see if these items will make any memories of his face rise up. But it is futile, it's been too long since I've seen his face to know exactly what he looked like. 

So instead I decide to stand straight and walk into the gardens as was my Father's request. 

When I do I notice all the Lords and Ladies whispering and glancing towards Ali, Father, someone who I know has to be Rhaenyra but that can't be right because she's supposed to be at Storms End, and a man who in the deepest parts of my soul I know is my Kepus. 

I don't hesitate to walk towards them, only catching the end of Father's jest. 

“You were always Mother’s favorite, she was wild and free and sadly I was no great warrior.” 

I go to speak but Rhaenyra beats me to it. 

“It's wonderful to see you Uncle.” 

I frown at the way she looks at him, the way her eyes flutter and she gently bites her lip before releasing it. 

I may be young but I know she is trying to flirt or seduce Kepus. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. But what I also notice is how tense the atmosphere becomes with just those simple words. 

She wasn't supposed to be back, Father must be livid. I think, eyeing him and quickly notice the scowl that overtakes his usually calm and collected features. 

“Thank you Niece.” He says with a tight smile before he turns and looks down at me. 

I freeze, not sure how to start the conversation. It's been so long that I have only been able to hear his words through ravens that now that I may actually talk to him the words are missing. 

“Would you like to see the tapestries? We have just received some from Myr.” Ali says with a pinched smile obviously not liking how much wine Father has drunk already. 

I smile excited to show him my favorites when Father bursts out laughing.

“Would you like to see them? Would you?” He asks in an obvious jesting tone. “He has no interest in such things.” He says with a dismissive wave. 

“I would like to see them.” Rhaenyra says out of nowhere staring at Father with that look that usually means she wants to start an argument. 

“Oh well then deprive yourself.” Father says waving her off. 

I've never seen nor heard him speak to Rhaenyra like this so I'm shocked, frozen in place hoping if I do not speak or move I will not be the object of their wrath next. 

Thankfully Rhaenyra walks away with a huff sitting on a bench as she inspects her nails. 

“Do not worry, your Father is only a bit…disoriented. He does not mean his harsh words.” Ali says, noticing my tense shoulders before she decides to walk over to Rhaenyra. 

And once I'm alone between my obviously drunk Father, and my Kepus who I haven't spoken to in years. Well it is an easy choice to try and find Laena and Nymeria. 

So with a quick curtsy I turn and walk towards the food table where Laena and Nymeria seem to be bickering. 

“Lemon cake is obviously the better choice.” Nymeria says before biting into one with a triumphant smirk. 

“Please, raspberry crumble is the best.” Laena responds before taking a bite of her sweet treat. 

I watch them stare each other down before clearing my throat and making them gasp and turn to face me before they quickly relax. 

“Which do you think is better!” They say at the same time only ti turn to the other and glare once more.

I stop for a second before moving forward and picking up a honey cake. 

“I much prefer the honey cakes.” I say, eyeing them as I take a bite letting the sweet flavor of honey and sugar fill my pallet. “Maybe instead of fighting over which is the best, we all just agree we like different things?” I suggest which seems to work until Nymeria whispers to herself and the argument starts up again. 

I look down and sigh in annoyance, this is not what I was hoping for when I wanted to escape the tension of my family. 

So just as quickly as I sought them out, I walked away for some solitude. Though I never am truly alone, for the clank of armor follows after me and I know who it is. 

I take a seat on a bench looking at the weirwood tree wondering how best to approach Kepus. When I hear Ssr Criston finally stop behind me I turn to look up at him. 

“Why is it so hard to talk to him? We sent letters for all those years, so why can't I speak to him?” I ask as tears rim my eyes that I fight to push down. 

An heir cannot look weak. I think wiping at my eyes fervently. 

He sighs with a look that almost seems pained. Like seeing me so hurt and confused hurts him. But why would it? It isn't him that is feeling this way. 

“Mayhaps because of the letters.” He says with a look of pity. 

Do not pity me, that means I'm weak and Father will hate me more. I think as I mull over his words. 

“What do you mean?” 

He looks up in thought before letting out a long sigh. “You didn't have to face him when you spoke your words. You didn't even need to speak them. You write all your thoughts down and send them to him. You didn't need to worry about his reaction because he wasn't in front of you.” He says before looking down at me again. “That is at least my guess, Your Grace.” 

I think over his words before looking at my Kepus who seems to he walking towards me. 

“Thank you, Ser Criston. You may leave me.” 

He gives a quick bow before walking a few paces away to give me and my Kepus privacy. 

“I was wondering where you had gone.” I hear him say. I remember that voice, the teasing lilt after each word. The way it always made me feel safe even now. 

But yet again no words leave me, I only look up at him fighting tears that demand to fall. 

Instead of speaking of my obvious hurt he sits next to me, warping an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his chest. And without thought, without caring, I let all my pain, worry, and confusion out. 

He rubs my back gently telling me to ‘let it all out’. I know that if Father sees me in this state there will be more lessons on how to act among Lords and Ladies. But I don't care, because for the first time in a long time I feel completely and utterly safe. 

I don't know how long I cried, but what I do know is by the time I'm done I feel like all the weight has left my shoulders and I can finally breathe again. So I lift my head finding a clear wet spot on his jerkin and sit straight against the back of the bench once more. 

“I'm sorry.” I whisper looking down at my hands as I chew at my lip. 

“And what do you have to be sorry for?” He asks as he puts his forefinger under my chin to force me to look at him. 

I stop letting myself take in his features once more. 

He has a strong jaw that seems tense right now. High cheekbones, and his long straight nose. His hair is the same silver blonde as I remember, only it's shorter. But it's his eyes that I know, his eyes that I have always been able to remember. Those deep lilacs that always seem to have mischief in them as well as something darker, something dangerous. But that is never shown towards me and I never understood why. 

I'm brought back by the tapping of his finger on my chin. He seems almost amused which leads me to believe he caught me inspecting his features. 

“I ruined your jerkin.” I finally say which only makes him throw his head back laughing. “What's so funny?” I ask, confusion washing over my face. 

“I don't care about the jerkin, ñuha riña. What I'm more worried about is you.” He says and I can't help the way my heart squeezes in joy when he uses my nickname. 

“I'm fine.” I say but I can tell he knows it's a lie, I mean I did just sob into his chest so I can't blame him. 

He hums before picking something up from beside him. It is only now that I realize he was carrying something. 

“I heard you were in need of this. And who would I be if I didn't bring it to you?” and there in his James is a new copy of the story of Daenys the Dreamer and her brother husband Gaemon. 

“You found it.” I say in awe as I take it from him feeling the soft leather as I open the book to find all the same paintings and pictures that were in my old one. 

“Well you did ask me to.” He says in his teasing tone. 

“No, I asked you to tell me where to get it.” I correct with a cheeky grin. 

This makes him chuckle and I can't help but smile when his eyes crinkle in the way that always means he is happy. 

“Well you're welcome nonetheless.” 

I giggle flipping through the pages reading some of my favorite passages. We sit like this for a while, in silence. Not the kind where you feel stiff and like you can't breathe, the kind where you feel safe and loved. 

That is until I look up at him again and find him reading the book over my shoulder. 

“If you want to read it, get one yourself.” I scold holding the book to my chest. 

He raises a brow in shock giving me a playful smirk. 

“I'm sorry, you're right I will read one I paid for.” He says before taking the book back and starts reading it. 

“Hey!” I yell trying to reach for it but he holds it just out of my reach. 

“I'm doing what you told me to do, ñuha riña.” He says with what I've heard would be called a shit eating grin. 

“Please.” Is all I say holding my hands out for my book. I'm not sure if it will work until I look up at him and he seems so…soft. Like he can't say no to me in this moment. It's a strange feeling after so many years of having cold looks from everyone but Ali and my younger siblings. 

“Fine, but you better let me borrow it.” He says and I can't help but giggle because for some reason I know I will more than likely be reading it with him. 

“Agreed.” I hold my hand out for him to shake and he does before bending down to kiss my knuckles. 

The rest of the afternoon we spend reading or he's making me tell stories about the times when he was away. Like the first time I got to hold Aegon, or how many times have me and Laena almost given our parents heart attacks while flying. 

“Well it sounds like a lot happened while I was gone.” He says almost mournfully. And his face is grief stricken. I can't help but frown when I see it, he didn't want to leave. 

I can't help but kick myself for all the times I thought he left because he was tired of us. 

I decide to lean into him and hug him as tight as I can. “I missed you.” I say and for some reason he tenses at my words. Almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

I feel his arms wrap around mine as he kisses the crown of my head. “I missed you as well, ñuha riña.” 

But for some reason my mind decided to turn my head and I noticed Rhaenyra with her guard Ser Daniel Karstark. I frown at the way they look at each other. 

Rhaenyra is doing that eye thing again and he is brushing the hair from her shoulder. It looks like they are courting but that can't be right he's a Kingsguard. They can't marry anyone. 

But even though I know this, and I know they know this. I can't help but wonder if they care.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fiction! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @technicallylegendaryenemy @thelastemzy @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar

[queenofwands89]

Do you do fanfic requests? If so I was hoping for maybe an angsty enemies to lovers with Tyler Owens, like they are rivals and just got off on a bad start that spiraled into them hating each other but slowly seeing there's more there but being in denial until maybe like Reader gets injured in a chase or helping someone and Tyler realized how he truly feels? Idk lol. Just need some good angst and hurt comfort.

Stormfront Showdown (Part 1)

Tyler Owens x fem!Stormchaser!reader

Summary: Y/N and Tyler have been longstanding rivals, their past filled with unresolved conflicts and clashing opinions on storm chasing. With vastly different approaches to tracking and studying storms, their heated debates have become legendary. Now, with the upcoming storm chasing convention on the horizon, tensions are set to skyrocket. You know Tyler will be there, and the question is: will this be another explosive encounter, or will the storm finally bring them together in unexpected ways?

Word count: 2262

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, verbal sparring, competition, dumb blonde joke, teasing, a little angsty idk.

Notes: Thank you so much for your request! I apologize for the delay; I recently started school and things have been hectic. I took a bit of creative liberty with your request and turned it into a short series. I hope you don't mind! If anyone wants me to make a taglist, just let me know. I hope you enjoy it—bye! 💜

The storm chaser convention is your annual pilgrimage as a weather enthusiast or professional. The ballroom of the Kansas City Grand Hotel buzzes with anticipation. As you stand at the entrance, your eyes sweep the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. You don't particularly enjoy these crowded events, preferring the solitude and precision of your solo chases, but your presence here is a necessary evil—an opportunity to share your findings and emphasize the importance of safety and scientific rigor.

You smooth the front of your blazer, double-checking your notes for the panel discussion. It’s then that you spot him: Tyler Owens. The Tornado Wrangler himself stands surrounded by a throng of fans and admirers, his laughter loud and infectious. His rugged appearance, complete with cowboy boots and a well-worn hat, seems to dominate the room. Boone is there too, camera in hand, capturing every moment for Tyler's YouTube channel. Lily, Dexter, and Dani mingle nearby, each in their element.

You inhale deeply, trying to steady your nerves. The name Tyler Owens epitomizes everything you abhor in storm chasing—recklessness, unchecked bravado, and an insatiable thirst for sensationalism. To you, he is the living antithesis of diligent scientific inquiry and responsible journalism.

Your last encounter with Tyler was nothing short of disastrous. What began as a simple disagreement escalated into a full-blown public feud, broadcasted for the world to see via social media and various news outlets. You had penned a scathing article, meticulously criticizing his methods as dangerous and irresponsible. Your words were sharp, intended to signal a wake-up call not just to him but to the entire community of storm chasers.

Tyler, never one to retreat from controversy, responded with an incendiary video. Filled with passionate retorts and dismissive gestures, his rebuttal ignited a firestorm of reactions, polarizing the storm-chasing community and capturing the attention of a captivated audience.

The bitter memory of this exchange still lingers in your mind, a festering wound that has yet to heal. Now, as you anticipate another face-to-face meeting with him, you feel the weight of that unresolved animosity. You brace yourself for the confrontation that seems as inevitable as the approaching storm you both intend to chase.

The panel is called to order, and the moderator introduces the speakers with a flourish. You take your seat, your heart pounding in your chest. Tyler settles into the chair next to you, flashing a charming smile that belies the tension crackling between you.

"Welcome, everyone," the moderator begins. "Today, we have a diverse panel of storm chasers who will share their unique perspectives on this thrilling and dangerous field. Let's start with you, Y/N. Can you tell us about your approach to storm chasing?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. "I believe storm chasing is an essential tool for advancing our understanding of severe weather phenomena. My approach focuses on meticulous planning, data collection, and public safety. The goal is to minimize risk while maximizing scientific value."

Tyler leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he addresses the room. "You know, while I truly appreciate Y/N's unwavering commitment to safety," he begins, his voice smooth and confident, "we sometimes overlook the bigger picture. Storm chasing isn't just about data and caution—it's about raising awareness and capturing the awe-inspiring power of nature."

He pauses for effect, letting his words sink in before flashing a charismatic smile at the crowd. "My team and I, we're not just scientists; we're storytellers. We bring these magnificent storms to the world, showing people a side of nature they rarely see."

His smile widens, eyes sparkling with excitement. "We have a saying in our crew: 'If you feel it, chase it.' Because in those moments of raw, untamed nature, we find our stories, our inspiration."

The room erupts in appreciative murmurs and nods of agreement, some even breaking into applause. Tyler's infectious enthusiasm and charm work their magic, swaying the audience to his perspective, if only for the moment.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Raising awareness is important, Tyler, but not at the expense of safety. Your methods put not just you and your team at risk but also the communities you travel through."

"And your methods," Tyler shoots back, "might yield scientifically valuable data, but they often lack the human element. People need to see the raw, unfiltered power of these storms to understand what we're dealing with."

The panel has been raging on for twenty minutes, each of you firing verbal volleys that keep the audience captivated. The tension is palpable, and it’s clear that you and Tyler aren’t on good terms.

Tyler leans forward, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He’s baiting you, and he knows exactly which buttons to push. "You know, ever since that article you wrote, questioning my methods, I've been wondering. Maybe you're just not a fan of a little excitement? Gotta admit, though, it did spark quite the public feud."

The hint of satisfaction in his voice is unmistakable—he’s reveling in the attention, the controversy, and most of all, the fact that he’s gotten under your skin.

You snap back, your tone fiery and unapologetic. "And with good reason. Your methods are reckless, Tyler. Capturing nature is one thing, but ensuring the safety of our team and the community is paramount. Data collection can be done without playing Russian roulette with our lives."

Tyler smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but without taking risks, we miss out on the most stunning phenomena. The beauty of a storm isn't just in its data points—it's in the visceral experience."

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp and unyielding. "Visceral experiences are meaningless if they end in tragedy. We need to strike a balance—pushing limits, yes, but with calculated caution. Not reckless abandonment just to feed your adrenaline addiction."

Leaning in slightly, his voice drops to a teasing whisper, "Careful. If you play it too safe, you might end up in a cozy weather office instead of out there chasing the real action."

You raise an eyebrow, your smile icy. "Better a cozy office than a hospital bed, Tyler. Besides, in the office, I can keep an eye on your antics, making sure you don’t turn yourself into a cautionary tale."

Tyler chuckles, clearly unfazed. "Touché. But admit it, you'd miss our epic sparring sessions out in the field."

You smirk back, your tone dripping with sarcasm, "Maybe. But I'd miss watching you lose a battle of wits with a breeze. It's like a real-life dumb blonde joke, but without the punchline."

Boone, with his characteristic enthusiasm, interjects, "You both have valid points! The thrill and the data—can't we find a middle ground here that marries both perspectives?"

Tyler grins at Boone's comment, "Maybe, Boone. But finding that middle ground is easier said than done."

The moderator, sensing the escalating tension and the need to maintain decorum, finally calls for a break. Their calm yet authoritative voice cuts through the cacophony of arguments, bringing a temporary ceasefire.

"Let's take a ten-minute break to gather our thoughts," the moderator says, brokering no argument. "This will give everyone a chance to cool off and reflect."

The announcement is met with a collective exhale from the audience. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you step away from the podium, your mind racing with the flurry of ideas and rebuttals. Tyler shoots you a confident smirk, clearly reveling in the public sparring.

As the room buzzes with low conversations and people stretch their legs, you glance towards Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani. Boone gives you a thumbs-up, his eyes sparkling with excitement for the next round. Lily offers a supportive nod, while Dexter's contemplative gaze meets yours, as if silently urging you to remain steadfast. Dani approaches you quietly, her concern evident.

"Take a moment to breathe," she advises softly. "You’re doing great, but don’t let him get under your skin."

You nod, appreciating the support as you resolve to keep your composure for the next part of the debate. Tyler may have won the crowd for now, but the debate is far from over.

You step away from the panel, finding solace in a quiet corner of the room. You sip your water, your mind racing with a mix of frustration and determination. A voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N," Tyler says, his tone unusually soft. "Can we talk?"

You turn to face him, your eyes narrowing. "There's not much to say, Tyler. We clearly have different philosophies that will never align."

He sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Look, I know we've had our differences, but we're both here for a reason. We're passionate about what we do. Maybe... just maybe, there's a middle ground we haven't considered."

Before you can respond, a group of Tyler's ardent fans—mostly attractive young women whose adoration for him is barely concealed—swarm in, interrupting your conversation. Their laughter and excited voices fill the air as they clamor for his attention, each holding out their phones for selfies.

"Tyler, can we get a picture with you?"

"You're amazing, Tyler, can you sign this?"

Their voices form a cacophony of admiration and eagerness. Tyler gives you a fleeting look, a glimmer of regret in his eyes. As he turns to handle the eager fans, you seize the moment. You walk away quickly, your strides purposeful and filled with resolve.

By the time Tyler manages to take a few pictures and sign a couple of autographs, he looks up to continue the conversation, but you're already gone. He scans the room, his expression shifting from hope to dejection as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

His shoulders slump slightly, and a look of displeasure shadows his face. The admiring fans around him continue their cheerful chatter, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He looks in the direction you went, frustration evident as he contemplates the vanished opportunity to bridge the chasm between you.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

The second day of the storm chaser convention dawns with a swirl of excitement and anticipation. Yesterday had been a whirlwind, with Tyler and you continuing your intense, verbal sparring match during your panel. As soon as it ended, you purposely avoided Tyler for the rest of the day, determined to keep your distance and focus on the upcoming events.

Today, however, is different. You feel a surge of excitement as you head towards the sign-up area for the competition on advanced research—a competition you have won every year. You stride confidently through the bustling convention hall, ready to claim your victory once more.

Approaching the registration table, you're taken aback to see Tyler there, pen in hand, scribbling his name onto the sign-up sheet. Your eyebrows knit together in a mixture of surprise and annoyance as you walk up to him.

"What are you doing here, Tyler?" you ask, folding your arms across your chest. "This competition has strict rules that you couldn't follow even if they were spelled out in neon lights."

Tyler smirks and meets your gaze. "Decided to sign up this year. Thought I'd give you some real competition."

You lock eyes, each ready for a verbal duel. The air between you crackles with tension.

"If you think you can handle it, by all means, try," you retort, your voice tinged with sarcasm. "Just know that this isn't your usual chaotic escapade. This requires precision and knowledge—qualities that, frankly, I don't think you possess."

Tyler chuckles softly. "We'll see about that. Underestimating me might be your biggest mistake."

Before you can continue your exchange, the host of the panel steps up to a microphone, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. The host, a renowned meteorologist named Dr. Sandra Jacobs, greets the crowd with a warm smile and a practiced ease.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm Dr. Sandra Jacobs, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to this year's storm chaser convention!" Dr. Jacobs begins, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "As many of you know, this convention is a celebration of the fascinating and often dangerous world of storm chasing. It's a place for experts and enthusiasts alike to share their passion and knowledge."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd as Dr. Jacobs continues.

"One of the highlights of our convention is the competition on advanced research. It's a chance for storm chasers to showcase their findings, methodologies, and innovations in storm tracking and prediction."

Your eyes shift back to Tyler momentarily, a competitive fire igniting within you.

"This year, however, we’ve decided to change things up," Dr. Jacobs announces, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "There will be no rules and no limits! The stakes are higher than ever, with $100,000 in research funding and a special feature on Discovery Plus for the winner!"

A collective gasp and murmurs of surprise and excitement ripple through the crowd. Your eyes widen slightly, processing the unexpected twist. Tyler glances at you, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"No rules, huh?" he teases, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Looks like your little rule-book speech just got thrown out the window."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, both frustrated and fueled by the sudden turn of events. You watch him go, your mind already strategizing how to adapt to the new, unpredictable landscape of the competition. The game had just changed, and you are more determined than ever to come out on top.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

storm chasers

pairing: tyler owen’s x f! reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

theme: enemies to lovers

During a particularly intense storm chase, Y/N's equipment malfunctions, putting her in a dangerous position. Despite their rivalry, Tyler spots her struggling and makes a splitsecond decision to help. He navigates his stormchasing vehicle through treacherous conditions to reach her.

"What are you doing here, Owens?" Y/N shouts over the howling wind, a mix of surprise and relief in her voice. "I thought you'd be halfway to Kansas by now, chasing your precious tornado!"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he helps her into his vehicle. "Even I'm not heartless enough to leave a colleague in danger," he retorts, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Besides, someone needs to show you how real storm chasing is done."

As they speed away from the approaching tornado, the tension between them crackles like the lightning illuminating the sky. Y/N finds herself studying Tyler's determined profile, seeing him in a new light for the first time.

Y/N crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she watches Tyler navigate through the storm. "I didn't ask for your help, Owens," she says, her voice sharp but with a hint of vulnerability. "I had it under control."

Tyler scoffs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Right, because standing in the path of an EF3 tornado is the epitome of 'under control.' Face it, princess, you needed me."

Y/N's cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Don't call me princess," she snaps. "And I don't need anyone, especially not some adrenaline junkie with a God complex."

Despite the tension, Tyler can't help but admire Y/N's spirit. Her fiery attitude matches the storm raging outside, and he finds it oddly captivating.

"You know," Tyler says, a smirk playing on his lips, "for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me."

Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically. "Don't flatter yourself, Owens. The only thing I think about is how to prove I'm better than you at storm chasing."

As they continue their banter, the storm intensifies around them. Tyler's expert driving keeps them safe, but the close calls have them both on edge. In a particularly heartstopping moment, Y/N instinctively grabs Tyler's arm, her fingers digging into his skin.

Their eyes meet for a brief second, electricity crackling between them that has nothing to do with the lightning outside. Y/N quickly pulls her hand away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"I... um, thanks," she mumbles, looking anywhere but at Tyler. "For coming to get me, I mean. Even if I didn't need it."

Tyler's expression softens slightly. "Anytime, Y/N. We storm chasers have to stick together, right?"

As the tension in the vehicle shifts from hostility to something more complex, Y/N finds herself reevaluating her feelings towards her rival.

Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting between Tyler and the raging storm outside. The silence between them grows heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Finally, she breaks it with a sigh.

"Look, Owens," she begins, her voice softer than before, "I... I may have misjudged you. A little."

Tyler's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Is that your way of saying thank you?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push it. I'm trying to be nice here."

"Well, it's a start," Tyler chuckles, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road. "You're not so bad yourself, when you're not trying to outdo me at every turn."

Y/N feels a blush creeping up her neck. "I don't try to outdo you," she mutters, then adds with a smirk, "I just naturally excel."

Tyler laughs, a genuine sound that makes Y/N's heart skip a beat. "There's the sass I know and lo— uh, tolerate."

The almostslip hangs in the air between them, neither willing to acknowledge it. Y/N clears her throat, desperately searching for a change of subject.

"So, uh, where exactly are we headed?" she asks, peering out at the stormravaged landscape.

Tyler's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly. "There's a motel about 20 miles ahead. We'll hole up there until this storm passes."

Y/N nods, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the thought of being alone with Tyler in a motel room. She tells herself it's just the adrenaline from their close call with the tornado.

As they continue driving, the silence becomes more comfortable. Y/N finds herself sneaking glances at Tyler, seeing him in a new light. The determined set of his jaw, the confident way he handles the vehicle through the treacherous conditions, it's all suddenly very... attractive.

As the tension in the vehicle eases slightly, Y/N decides to make herself more comfortable. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she slowly lifts her feet, clad in wellworn cowboy boots, and props them up on Tyler's pristine dashboard.

Tyler's eyes widen in disbelief. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he exclaims, his voice a mix of annoyance and surprise.

Y/N smirks, wiggling her bootclad feet. "Getting comfortable. Got a problem with that, Owens?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he tries to focus on the road. "Knock it off, Y/N. This isn't your beatup truck. I just had this vehicle detailed last week."

"Aww, is the big bad storm chaser afraid of a little mud?" Y/N teases, but there's a hint of fondness in her voice that wasn't there before.

Tyler reaches over with one hand, trying to swat her feet off the dashboard while keeping his eyes on the treacherous road. "I'm serious, Y/N. Feet. Off. Now."

Their playful struggle continues for a moment, the air between them charged with a new kind of energy. Y/N finds herself enjoying this lighter side of their usual banter, and Tyler can't help but appreciate her playful defiance.

As the storm chaser vehicle comes to a complete stop, Y/N's eyes light up with excitement. Without warning, she flings open the door and leaps out, camera in hand.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing?" Tyler shouts, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind.

But Y/N is already sprinting towards the storm, her hair whipping wildly around her face. She raises her camera, desperate to capture the perfect shot of the swirling vortex.

Tyler curses under his breath and jumps out after her. "Are you insane? Get back here!" he yells, but Y/N ignores him, lost in her pursuit of the perfect storm footage.

In a burst of speed, Tyler reaches her. Without hesitation, he throws her over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp from Y/N.

"Put me down, Owens!" she protests, but Tyler's grip is firm as he carries her to a nearby sturdy post.

Setting her down, he quickly ties a safety rope around both of them, securing them to the post. Y/N struggles against him, but Tyler's face is a mask of anger and concern.

"What part of 'dangerous storm' don't you understand?" he growls, his face inches from hers. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Y/N glares at Tyler, her chest heaving with adrenaline and frustration. "I had it under control! This is the shot of a lifetime, Owens. You of all people should understand that!"

Tyler's grip on her arms tightens, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else – fear? "No shot is worth your life, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea what it would do to m— to the storm chasing community if something happened to you?"

The wind howls around them, tugging at their clothes and hair. Y/N's anger begins to fade as she realizes the genuine concern in Tyler's voice. She looks up at him, really seeing him for the first time. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and his eyes... they're filled with an emotion she's never seen before.

"I... I'm sorry," Y/N says softly, her voice nearly lost in the storm. "I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't," Tyler cuts her off, but his tone has softened slightly. "You never do when it comes to chasing the perfect storm. It's what makes you brilliant, and also incredibly frustrating."

Y/N can't help but smile at that. "Sounds like someone I know," she teases, nudging him gently.

Tyler's lips quirk up in a reluctant smile. "Yeah, well, maybe we're more alike than we thought."

As they stand there, tied to the post with the storm raging around them, something shifts between Y/N and Tyler. The rivalry that has defined their relationship for so long seems to melt away, replaced by a new understanding – and perhaps something more.

As the storm continues to rage around them, Tyler's eyes soften, his gaze lingering on Y/N's face. The wind whips her hair wildly, and he finds himself reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"Y/N," he says, his voice barely audible over the howling wind, "I... I can't lose you. Not to a storm, not to anything."

Y/N's breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening at the intensity in Tyler's voice. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a deafening crack of thunder startles them both.

Tyler instinctively pulls Y/N closer, his arms wrapping protectively around her. In that moment, pressed against his chest, Y/N realizes that the rivalry between them has been masking something far more powerful.

The ride home is tense, filled with an awkward silence as Y/N and Tyler sit in their soaking wet clothes. The only sounds are the squelch of their damp attire and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. When they finally arrive at Y/N's house, Tyler pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine.

"Goodnight," he says curtly, not meeting her eyes.

Y/N stares at him incredulously. "That's it? Goodnight? Tyler, what was all that about back there?"

Tyler's jaw clenches as he grips the steering wheel tightly. "I don't want to talk about it," he mutters, his voice low and strained.

Frustrated and confused, Y/N gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She starts walking towards her house, her wet boots squelching with each step. Tyler watches her go, conflict evident on his face.

Suddenly, as if pulled by an invisible force, Tyler jumps out of the car and rushes after her. He catches up just as she reaches her front door.

"Y/N, wait!" he calls out.

She turns, surprise etched on her features. Before she can say anything, Tyler closes the distance between them. His hands cup her face, fingers tangling in her damp hair, and he crashes his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Y/N freezes for a moment, shocked by Tyler's sudden action. Then, as if a dam has broken, she melts into the kiss, her hands gripping his soaked shirt. The rain continues to fall around them, but neither seems to notice.

When they finally break apart, both breathless, Tyler rests his forehead against Y/N's. His eyes, usually filled with competitive fire, now shine with vulnerability and warmth.

"That's what it was about," he whispers, his voice husky. "I've been fighting this for so long, Y/N. Fighting us. But I can't anymore. Not after today."

Y/N's heart races, her mind reeling from the intensity of the moment. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a loud crack of thunder makes them both jump.

The sudden thunder reminds them of their rainsoaked state. Y/N shivers slightly, her wet clothes clinging to her skin. Tyler notices and gently cups her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

"We should get inside," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're freezing."

Y/N nods, fumbling with her keys as she unlocks the door. As they step inside, the tension between them crackles like the lightning outside. Y/N turns to face Tyler, her heart pounding.

"Tyler, I..." she starts, but words fail her. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.

Tyler catches her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "I know," he says softly. "We've wasted so much time, haven't we?"

Their eyes lock, years of rivalry and unspoken attraction culminating in this moment. Without another word, Y/N pulls Tyler close, their lips meeting in another passionate kiss. As the storm rages outside, they lose themselves in each other, finally giving in to the feelings they've denied for so long.

Tyler's hands roam Y/N's body, his fingers tracing the curves hidden beneath her damp clothes. Y/N gasps as he presses her against the wall, his lips trailing hot kisses down her neck.

"God, Y/N," Tyler groans, his voice husky with desire. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?"

Y/N's response is cut off by a moan as Tyler's hand slips under her shirt, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. She tugs at his wet tshirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

"Off," she demands breathlessly. "Take it off, Tyler."

Tyler obliges, pulling back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Y/N's eyes rake over his toned chest, her hands exploring the muscles she's admired from afar for so long.

Their lips crash together again, the kiss deep and hungry. Y/N's legs wrap around Tyler's waist as he lifts her, carrying her towards the bedroom. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other's lips, the tension of years finally breaking.

As they fall onto the bed, clothes are shed hastily, hands exploring newly exposed skin. The storm outside fades into background noise, drowned out by their gasps and moans.

Tyler hovers over Y/N, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Y/N pulls him closer, her nails raking down his back. "I've never been more sure of anything," she breathes.

Tyler's eyes light up with a mischievous glint. He reaches for his bag, pulling out an old Polaroid camera. "You know," he says, his voice low and seductive, "I've always wanted to capture you in a different kind of storm."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and excitement dancing in her eyes. "Oh? And what kind of storm would that be, Owens?"

Tyler's gaze travels appreciatively over Y/N's body. "The kind that involves you, some lacy lingerie, and this camera. What do you say, storm chaser? Up for a different kind of thrill?"

The tension in the room shifts, electric with anticipation. Y/N bites her lip, considering the offer. The idea of Tyler capturing her most intimate moments sends a shiver down her spine.

Y/N's lips curve into a seductive smile as she sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal her bare shoulders. "Well, well, Owens. I didn't take you for the artistic type," she purrs, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But if you think you can handle it, I'm game."

Tyler's breath catches as Y/N saunters towards her dresser, her hips swaying enticingly. She rummages through a drawer, pulling out a delicate, lacy black lingerie set. "How's this for your little photoshoot?" she asks, dangling the garments from her finger.

"Perfect," Tyler manages, his voice husky with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as Y/N slips into the lingerie, the sheer fabric clinging to her curves.

Y/N strikes a pose, one hand on her hip, the other running through her tousled hair. "Ready when you are, storm chaser," she teases.

Tyler raises the camera, his hands slightly shaky with excitement. "Show me what you've got, Y/N," he says, a grin spreading across his face.

The room fills with the soft whirring and clicking of the Polaroid camera as Tyler captures Y/N's alluring poses. Each flash illuminates her curves, accentuated by the delicate lace lingerie. Y/N's confidence grows with each shot, her poses becoming bolder and more seductive.

"Damn, Y/N," Tyler breathes, lowering the camera for a moment. His eyes roam appreciatively over her body. "You're even more stunning than I imagined."

Y/N smirks, sauntering towards him. "Oh? So you've imagined this before, have you?" she teases, her fingers trailing down his chest.

Tyler swallows hard, his voice husky as he admits, "More times than I care to count."

As the Polaroids develop, Tyler carefully selects the most captivating one. With a mischievous grin, he slips it into his wallet. "Something to remember this night by," he murmurs, pulling Y/N close for a passionate kiss.

Y/N breaks the kiss, her eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and playfulness. She gently pushes Tyler onto the bed, straddling him as she reaches for the Polaroid camera. "My turn," she purrs, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscular chest.

Tyler's breath hitches, his hands settling on Y/N's hips. "What did you have in mind?" he asks, voice rough with anticipation.

Y/N grins mischievously, raising the camera. "Let's just say I want my own little memento of the great Tyler Owens," she teases, snapping a photo of his flushed face and tousled hair.

The air between them crackles with tension as Y/N continues to capture intimate moments, the roles now reversed. Tyler finds himself both nervous and thrilled under her intense gaze.

As Y/N lowers the camera, her eyes lock with Tyler's. The playful atmosphere shifts, charged with an electric intensity. She sets the camera aside, her hands splaying across Tyler's chest.

"You know," she murmurs, leaning in close, "I never thought I'd say this, but you're not half bad, Owens."

Tyler's lips quirk into a smirk, his hands sliding up Y/N's thighs. "Just not half bad? I'm hurt, princess."

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't push your luck," she warns, but her voice is breathy, betraying her arousal.

Tyler suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N to the bed. His eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of her beneath him, still clad in the lacy lingerie.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he growls, his lips ghosting along her jaw.

Y/N arches into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. "The feeling's mutual," she gasps, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, leaving a path of fiery kisses. His hands roam her body, fingertips tracing the delicate lace of her lingerie. Y/N arches into his touch, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Tyler," she moans, her nails raking down his back. The sound of his name on her lips sends a shiver through him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they meet hers. "God, Y/N," he breathes, "you're incredible."

Y/N smirks, her confidence growing. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. "Show me just how incredible you think I am," she challenges, her voice husky with want.

Tyler grins, accepting her challenge with enthusiasm. His hands slide under the lacy fabric, eager to explore every inch of her.

Y/N's breath hitches as Tyler's skilled hands explore her body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he caresses. She arches into him, craving more contact.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice breathy with desire. "Don't tease me."

A wicked grin spreads across Tyler's face as he looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "But teasing is half the fun, princess," he murmurs, his fingers tracing tantalizingly slow patterns on her skin.

Y/N's eyes narrow at the nickname, a mix of arousal and annoyance flashing in her gaze. "I told you not to call me that," she growls, suddenly flipping their positions so she's straddling him.

Tyler's eyes widen in surprise, then darken with appreciation as he takes in the sight of Y/N above him, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed. "Feisty," he comments, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "I like it."

Y/N leans down, her lips barely brushing against his as she whispers, "You haven't seen anything yet, Owens."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N begins to rock her hips slowly against Tyler's, eliciting a low groan from him. Her fingers trace the contours of his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin.

"You think you can handle me, Owens?" she purrs, her voice husky with desire.

Tyler's hands grip her waist tighter, his eyes locked on hers. "Bring it on, storm chaser," he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/N leans down, her lips ghosting along his jaw. "Remember," she whispers, her breath hot against his ear, "I always get what I want."

As the tension between them builds, the storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the electricity crackling between their bodies.

Y/N's movements become more passionate as she rides Tyler, her body undulating in a sensual rhythm. Her lips find his neck, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along his skin. Tyler groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter as the sensation sends shivers down his spine.

"God, Y/N," he gasps, tilting his head to give her better access.

Y/N smirks against his skin, her tongue darting out to taste him. She peppers kisses all over his neck and jawline, occasionally nipping gently. The combination of her movements and her lips on his skin drives Tyler wild.

His arousal intensifies, and he suddenly flips them over, pinning Y/N beneath him. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at her.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

The air around them is thick with the scent of desire a heady mix of Y/N's light floral perfume and Tyler's musky cologne with notes of amber. As Tyler's lips trail down Y/N's neck, he breathes in her intoxicating scent, a mix of rain from their earlier adventure and something uniquely her.

Y/N arches into Tyler, her skin tingling wherever he touches. His hands roam her body, exploring every curve and dip. When his lips finally meet hers again, the taste is intoxicating a hint of sweetness mixed with the saltiness of sweat.

"You taste amazing," Tyler murmurs against her lips, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N responds by deepening the kiss, her tongue dancing with his as she savors his taste a mix of mint and something distinctly masculine. Her hands explore his broad shoulders and muscular back, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

As their passion builds, every touch, every taste, every scent becomes more intense. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by the occasional rumble of distant thunder.

Tyler's hands glide down Y/N's sides, tracing the curve of her waist and hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Y/N's breath catches as his fingers dance along the lace edge of her lingerie.

"Tyler," she gasps, her voice thick with desire. Her nails dig into his shoulders, urging him closer.

He responds by pressing his hips against hers, the friction eliciting a moan from both of them. The scent of their arousal mingles in the air, heightening their senses.

Y/N's lips find Tyler's neck again, leaving a trail of hot, openmouthed kisses. She breathes in his scent a intoxicating mix of amber, cologne, and the earthy smell of rain still clinging to his skin.

"God, Y/N," Tyler growls, his voice low and husky. "You're driving me wild."

Y/N's fingers tangle in Tyler's hair, pulling him closer as she arches into him. The lace of her lingerie creates a tantalizing friction against their heated skin. Tyler's hand slides down to her thigh, hitching her leg up around his waist.

"Tyler," Y/N moans, her voice breathy with desire. "I need you. Now."

Tyler's eyes lock with hers, dark with passion. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky and strained with restraint.

Y/N responds by pulling him into a searing kiss, her body pressing urgently against his. The last vestiges of their rivalry melt away, replaced by an allconsuming need for each other.

As they finally join, the storm outside seems to crescendo, mirroring the intensity of their passion. The room fills with the sounds of their pleasure, punctuated by whispered endearments and gasps of ecstasy.

Their bodies move together in a passionate rhythm, the intensity building with each passing moment. Y/N's nails rake down Tyler's back as she loses herself in the sensation. Tyler buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"God, Y/N," he groans, his voice muffled against her skin. "You feel amazing."

Y/N can only respond with a breathy moan, her mind clouded with pleasure. The storm outside seems to fade away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing and the creaking of the bed.

As they approach their peak, Tyler lifts his head to look into Y/N's eyes. The connection between them is electric, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something neither of them is ready to name yet.

"Tyler," Y/N gasps, her body trembling on the edge of release. "I'm so close..."

Tyler's movements become more urgent, driven by Y/N's breathless plea. He captures her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as he pushes her closer to the edge. Y/N's body arches beneath him, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Let go, Y/N," Tyler whispers against her ear, his voice rough with desire. "I've got you."

With a cry of ecstasy, Y/N tumbles over the edge, her body shuddering with waves of pleasure. The intensity of her release triggers Tyler's own, and he groans deeply as he follows her into bliss.

As they come down from their high, Tyler collapses beside Y/N, pulling her close. Their bodies are slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem. For a moment, they lie in silence, basking in the afterglow.

Y/N turns her head to look at Tyler, a mix of satisfaction and wonder in her eyes. "That was..." she trails off, unable to find the right words.

Tyler grins, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Yeah," he agrees, "it was."

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by their gradually steadying breaths. Y/N's fingers trace lazy patterns on Tyler's chest, her mind still hazy from their passionate encounter. Tyler's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer.

"You know," Y/N murmurs, her voice still slightly breathless, "I never thought I'd end up here with you, of all people."

Tyler chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Life's full of surprises, isn't it?" he replies, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. "Especially in our line of work."

Y/N props herself up on an elbow, looking down at Tyler with a mixture of curiosity and lingering desire. "Speaking of work," she says, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what do you say we make the most of this storm?"

Tyler's eyebrow quirks up, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What did you have in mind, storm chaser?"

Tyler's expression softens as he gazes at Y/N, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "You know," he begins, his voice low and tender, "I've got a confession to make."

Y/N tilts her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh? What's that, Owens?"

Tyler takes a deep breath, his thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. "I've been in love with you since we were kids," he admits, his voice filled with emotion. "I love the way you furrow your eyebrows and pace when you're confused. I love how you bite your lip when you're anxious. Even those days when your hair is all crazy especially those days."

Y/N's eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise. Tyler continues, his words tumbling out faster now. "I know we're on different teams, but baby, I notice everything about you. I fucking love you, Y/N. I always have."

The room falls silent as Y/N processes his words, her heart racing. After what feels like an eternity, a smile breaks across her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tyler," she whispers, "I love you too. I think I always have."

Tyler pulls her close, capturing her lips in a kiss that's both tender and passionate. As they break apart, both breathless and grinning, the storm outside begins to calm, mirroring the peace that's settled between them. Their rivalry has transformed into something beautiful, something neither of them expected but both now cherish.

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hey! Sorry for the ask, but if you're still taking requests could I maybe request a Tyler Owens x ftm reader

Readers been on his storm chasing team for a bit, helps Boone coordinate the social media presence or something-

I don't have a well thought out prompt- just a like. How they get together finally after months of pining and comments of "are they dating yet?"

- 🌟

AHH HELLOOOO 🌟 ive been waiting for a Tyler Owens req for agessss nowww omg thank you and ofc my inbox is opened rn!! This fic turned more into like,, a yearning, slight slow-burn-ish fic with a hint of humour from the team lmaooo, ALSO! If y'all didn't know, Dani is Non-binary! So i’m giving them a They/Them pronouns, hope yall like it !! <3

Twin Flame Tornadoes

Tags: Tyler Owens x Male!Reader, StormChaser!raeder, FtM!Reader, No use of Y/n, Boone, Dexter, Dani, Lilly, Kate, Javi, Yearning, Crushes, Fluff, Hurt/comfort, just a bit yk, Found Family, Internalized Homophobia (?), maybe??, General Homophobia (westerners yeesh), Denial, Dirty thoughts, iykyk, Tyler is actually so smitten its insane, Such a lover boy 

There wasn't a lot of space in the West for someone like you. Someone who isn't normal, who didn't stick to ‘her’ own path in life and grow up, get a job, and start a family—No, someone like you takes up space, and most mid-westerners would look at you with burning rage in their eyes. Most would dismiss your identity, bigoted speeches and shouts at your face, protest against your community, and for half of your life you've grown accustomed to it, a unique shield you've perfected after years of dismissal.

But that shield became useless. The shield you've spent your life honing was now nothing but a backup plan, especially when you're with the Wranglers. Especially with Tyler

=====

There wasn't a lot of space in the West for someone like you. Someone who isn't normal, who didn't stick to ‘her’ own path in life and grow up, get a job, and start a family—No, someone like you takes up space, and most mid-westerners would look at you with burning rage in their eyes. Most would dismiss your identity, bigoted speeches and shouts at your face, protest against your community, and for half of your life you've grown accustomed to it, a unique shield you've perfected after years of dismissal.

But that shield became useless. The shield you've spent your life honing was now nothing but a backup plan, especially when you're with the Wranglers.

You joined the Tornado Wranglers just a couple of months after they took off. Back then, you were about to leave town as you finally got a proper job somewhere in Brooklyn, somewhere safer for you to exist. That night, the sudden ring from your phone halts your packing, your hand closing the suitcase while rummaging through your pile of clothes to answer the call.

“H-hey hello,” You greeted, shoving your phone between your ear and elbow. 

“Hey! How’s it going man!” Boone’s loudness almost made you drop your phone in shock, quickly collecting yourself as you catch yourself. “I hope you’re well!” 

“Boone? Is that you?” You smile, hearing your old high school friend's cheery voice. You hear a chuckle from the other end, making you grin.

“‘Course it is! One and only!” He answers. 

You chuckle, nudging some of your sweaters to take a seat, your bed creaking slightly. “Hey! I’ve been good, been okay. You, Boonie?” 

“Never better man,” Boone’s undoubtedly grinning ear to ear, you thought. “Listen, I got a proposition for you now- You busy?”

You shrug, knowing you’ll only be catching your flight in two days. “Nope, I'm all ears,” 

“So I’ve gotten myself into this storm chasin’ thing again, you remember right? Remember when we used to take your truck out in the fields, runnin’ out there and driving our asses way too close to tornadoes when we saw ‘em?”

You sigh, a thump on the bed as you throw your head back to the pillows. “Yeah, of course,  those were the days…” 

“Right? So I started doing this professionally and so-” 

“Wait,” You roll over onto your stomach as you stuff a plushie underneath you. “Professionally? Did you actually join-” 

“A storm chasin’ group! Yeah!” Boone’s laughs shake your core, and something warm churns inside you.

You recalled those days. In high school, you and Boone were inseparable. It didn't take a lot to know why, from an outsider's point of view. Back then, you were outcasted silently, your peers mostly talked to you only if need be, otherwise you were a recluse who kept to yourself, not by choice sadly. Though it's different with Boone. He never cared what you were, how you identified yourself. He sees you as you and for that same reason you two became good friends. At the age of 17, you got an old pickup all fixed up, and the first thing you did with it was to storm chase with Boone. 

That day, a storm warning rang around your town, and while your neighbors closed their windows and blinds, you and Boone took the truck out into the field and chased after it. It was exhilarating, the adrenaline was addicting as you felt the harsh wind against your skin, your hair astray, the loud cheers beside you as Boone was halfway out of the truck. It was dangerous, it was reckless, yet those were the best days of your life. 

Eventually, life took over, and when graduation came around, you busied yourself with college, unknown to you where your best friend went. You never imagined he was the first one to turn the once hobby into a profession.

“Now, about that proposition,” Boone clears his throat. You blink, an unwavering smile on your lips. “Seein’ as I'm now in the storm chassin’ business, me and my buddy need’s another guy for our team, yeah? And I mean, I thought, who else would be a better candidate than you!”

You laugh, though can't help but furrow your brow as you ask; “Wait- you want me? Boone I haven't chased in a while, not since high school,” A sigh as you run your hand through your hair. “I'm not saying no, ‘s just…”

“You don't need to do nothin’ you don't wanna! Buuuut…” He falters, you hear a click of a tongue. “We do need an extra hand on the camera…” 

You pause, eyebrows raising. “Wait… Camera?” 

That's how you found yourself being the 2nd cameraman for the Tornado Wranglers.

While Boone rides in the action truck, you stay back with Dexter and Dani, recording mostly behind-the-scenes shots for YouTube and the occasional passes of point of view whenever the gang goes storm chasing and streams it online. 

It's been a solid 2 years now, and since then the Tornado Wranglers have risen in popularity. From a couple thousand to now reaching a million followers on Instagram, a solid half a million on YouTube and Twitch. Not to mention the myriads of fan accounts now arose, especially for the group's appointed leader, Tyler. 

Each time you went to edit some footage of the latest run, there's always one or two fan edits you stumble across, mostly on Twitter, with yet another catchy pop song that Tyler probably would know if he wasn’t engrossed in his country music, that you’d have to roll your eyes at and scroll past. Not before bookmarking it. 

Truth be told, you’ve harbored a pretty big crush on the guy. Tyler was never one to care about whose identity is what, if he did he would’ve been harsher towards Dani or wouldn't let them join the team, but you were never sure where he swung. You and your gender were never a problem for him, but the constant heart throb whenever the blonde passes by will start being a problem for you. 

He’s a cocky flirt, confidence and charisma are practically an infinite fountain within that man. He’s smooth and witty and every girl's dream, which is evident with the majority of the Tornado Wranglers fanbase being women and the occasional longing gay men, much like yourself. If you don't take into account the usual Storm Chaser fans, the people on the internet would agree about Tyler being alluring. 

—

“Join us for a drink won't ya’?” The voice tore your focus away from the laptop screen and up to captivating brown eyes. The owner of said eyes is leaning on the doorframe of the truck, a shield from the bright floodlights as it captures his frame like a halo, his arms cage you just above your head, a playful smirk on his lips.

You grin, shaking your head to turn back to your laptop before your heart makes another leap from Tyler's presence. “Sorry boss, I gotta get this out tomorrow, remember?”

“I'm sure the fans won't mind it being a day late,” His dismissal would've been nothing if his hand hadn't landed on your shoulder, squeezing slightly which almost got you to gulp. “You’ve been on that thing for hours now, I think your eyes would appreciate the break,” 

His hold, warm and inviting, finally got you to sigh and save the active project, before promptly closing your laptop and facing the man. “Fine, but you buying,”

“Who said I didn't?” His hand drops to your wrist where he tugs slightly, getting you to exit the confines of the truck into the cold evening night. 

The crew was with the many other storm chasers, the motel’s parking lot filled with various trucks and music and chatter amongst many others. When you finally join the team as they lounge around the control van, they cheer at your and Tyler's arrival. Other than Lilly and Boone who were busy reviewing today's footage with various awes and cheers, they all had beers in their hand and were satiated after today's busy day. 

Tyler grabs two bottles from the cooler, offering one to you. Your hand grazes his slightly as you receive it, “I thought you said you were buying?” 

“Hey now, this pack came outta my pocket, y’know,” He chuckles, which makes you grin.

Suddenly, your eyes drop to where he’s holding the beer bottle as he brings it lower to his crotch level and fuck he guides the cap to his belt buckle and pops it open. The liquid inside fizzes slightly before he finally takes a swig, his lips curl around the tip as he gulps down, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion, hands somewhat damp from the bottle's condensation. He wipes at his lips before his gaze drops to yours, a visible heat within them that makes you physically tear away from.

Did he really need to do that? Beside you too? Does he want me dead?

“Need a hand?” Yes- You cough, finding the soil beneath you interesting, 

“Uh sure yeah,” A forced gulp as you handed him your bottle. He repeats his earlier motion though you opted to save yourself from a growing arousal by glancing over to Dani. Yet that was also a mistake. 

Dani had their eyes on you the whole time, undoubtedly seeing the way your face grew in color at what Tyler did, and they smirked at how you completely chose to look down after focusing too much on the man's hand. They raise a brow, which you reply with a knowing stare. They laugh, their smirk just growing in smugness, before they tap something on their thigh which makes your heart drop. 

There, perching idly, is their phone, camera pointing towards yours and Tyler's direction. Your eyes widen, changing from looking at the phone, back to Dani, then back to the phone, before to Dani again, now your eyes soften into a plead. Your puppy eyes doesnt work on them as their phone flops back down to their thigh and into their pocket. 

You groan slightly before Tyler hands you your beer back. “Thanks,” you reply shortly and take a sip. 

The hood of one of the trucks was vacant so you took the liberty of perching on it, craning your neck to look up at the stars. The glimmering spots above were prominent here in the open fields, unlike those in the city. You knew, if you did take that job back then, you’d miss the easy breeze and clear skies of the mid-west. Tyler soon follows, leaning beside you, one arm hung on the hood, his stetson long forgotten somewhere. 

You figured the man would spend more time with Dexter, maybe plan out what they’re going to be doing tomorrow, but instead he hovers near you. He takes a sip, before he cocks his head upwards. 

“Next month’ll be storm season,” His eyes still focused on the sky when you glanced over. 

“Yeah? More toys for us to play with,” Tyler smiles as he hears your reply, you can't help but too. 

“There will be…” He takes a swig of his beer, the clicks his tongue as he finishes. “A journalist, from England. He’ll be going with us for some weeks,”

You hum, though a bit concerned. Not for the team no. If the Tornado Wranglers were dropped into a jungle with nothing but a match you're sure the team could pull through. You’re worried about the journalist, being from Europe no less. When you turn to spot Boone and Lilly both cackling at today's footage, hunched over the iPad, you chuckle, earning Tyler's attention.

“What? Something about the guy?”

“No no,” You smirk, sipping slightly from your bottle. “Just hoping the guy’ll survive us,” 

Tyler balks slightly, before he takes a glance at the crew scattered about, and laughs alongside you. There’s so much professionality the team can do, and while the obvious is to be proper hosts for the upcoming journalist, you can't help but imagine how insane it would be for such a prim-propper European to join a rag-tag group of Americans.

—

“Hey, Kate here take some food and water,” She glances towards the items you're holding, the girl immediately shakes her head. 

“I'm not buying food from you guys,” Her eyes widened, fixing you with a stare. Your head tilts at her response. 

“We’re giving these away,” Your head motions towards your friends behind you, giving out needed food, water, and clothes from the merch boxes. “We’re selling out shirts practically free and handing food and water away, everybody here needs some,” 

The destroyed houses around where you and Kate stood paint a clear picture. The tornado that Storm Par and The Tornado Wranglers were chasing destroyed the nearby town, effectively rendering some of the citizens there with no home and almost no remnants of their things, clothes and pictures scattered beneath the debris, The blonde’s eyes scan the area around, softening when she hears your explanation, eyes fleeting towards the van behind you.

She sighs and musters a small smile. “It's fine, I don't need it, give it to the other people,”

You hum, before pushing the bottled water into her hand. “At least take the water,”

“Okay, thank you,” She nods, another smile enough to reassure you. You reply to her nod before jogging back to your friends. Kate watches as you gather with them, immediately helping more survivors with food and clothes. She watches at your team, before glancing briefly at Javi, then climbs into the car and drives away. 

Later that night, while fatigue reigns over the team, everyone currently catching up over dinner and drinks, you watch as Tyler barely touches his food while downing his 2nd bottle of booze. You knew the man could handle his liquor, well over yours, but he rarely drinks as much as a 3rd bottle when it's with the group. Worry and suspicion steadily bubbling up within your heart.

As you took the space beside him, leaning on the cold car exterior, your flannel button up to combat the cold night air. “You okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah, pretty good,” He takes a sip, sighing as he finishes. “You?”

“Alright,” You nod. 

A silence falls between you and Tyler, though it's a mutually welcomed one. Usually, the team would be loud with a mixture of someone's Spotify playlist playing on the speaker, a thrumming of guitar from Dexter, or Boone just cracking jokes and making people laugh. Though tonight, you both knew the team was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Despite how many times you chase a tornado, the aftermath and impact it has on any town never get easier to swallow. 

You bask in the easy breeze, the usual humidity following a storm from the previous hours. The air invites you to tilt your head upwards, eyes shut to bask in its wind. It sways your lapels a bit, taking the day's tiredness away with it. When you feel a warm hand rests on your nape your eyes flutter open, Tyler’s warm browns greet you when you blink. 

He has something in his look, something warm with care and compassion. It swirls a deep whirlpool, pulling you deeper into its grasp, like longing and want and pining and you're too scared to find out which is which. You watch as Tyler’s gaze slips down and pauses on your lips, parted as you force yourself to inhale sharply, then immediately back to your eyes. A pregnant pause, too long to mean nothing, until he gulps and tears himself away, opting to pat your shoulder instead as his focus shifts to the ground. 

You had to collect yourself; a deep breath as you felt his sturdy pats, then he pulled slightly, a reassuring grip that grounds you. “I'm glad.” he finishes.

You had to blink and force yourself to take a sip from your bottle, mimicking Tylers movements in finding the dirt interesting. You were about to keep up the gimmick before his hand dropped which had you following his line of sight. Just meters away from the group’s huddle, Kate walks in the direction of her motel room. She’s in a hurry, something in the way she walks slightly fast and breath too labored. You recall you haven't seen her after handing her the water bottle hours ago, now that it turned into the evening,

When you turn to asses Tyler, he had the same look he gave you earlier. The same dark eyes with determination and longing. Something hurts, a pang in your chest, throat suddenly dry like you swallowed sand. 

He follows her steps, up the stairs, and as her door closes. 

Your eyes follow his.

Tyler hums, blinking once, before shaking his head and taking a big gulp.

The sting is back. It’s sharp and hard beneath your abdomen, like it’s begging to be let out, a nail inside a balloon that's starting to deflate too quickly. Enough to force you to breathe manually and gulp down your beer just enough to eliminate the possibility of anxiety.

You had to muster yourself to talk. “Go,” 

Tyler turns, a smirk on his lips. “Wha-”

“Talk to her Ty, I know you wanna.” You grin albeit forced. “She ain't okay, not like us. Go.”

He sighs. He takes another minute before handing you the rest of his beer then starts to walk towards the stairs. As he climbs the steps, your eyes meet his, a slight hesitation, before you give him a firm nod, and he continues to Kate’s room. 

You let out a breath you didn't know were holding, chest tight from god knows what. 

After a sigh, you decided to turn back to the others when Dani punched you straight on the arm, hard.

“Ow! What that for?!” 

“For being a dumbass!” They stand a head below you yet they could intimidate anyone within a five-mile radius. They sigh, poking an accusatory finger at your sternum. “You didn't see how Tyler looked at ya’? The boy had puppy eyes on you and you went off and told ‘em to chase Kate!” 

“What are you even talkin’ about Dani?”

They huff, wiping a hand across their face. “I know I’m the only one here that knows you like Tyler- don't cut me off.” You immediately close your lips. “But we all saw that! Hell, even Boone and Lilly did!” 

“You two were about to make out if it weren't for Tyler wussing out!” 

Heat shot upwards, coloring your cheeks in embarrassment as you immediately shot the thought down. “N-no we weren't, and you know that,” 

“‘Sides, look at him! He ran over to ask Kate-” As you spoke, the said couple ran past the group going god knows where with god knows what, Tyler's expression a calm and soothing wave while Kate’s anxiety slowly simmers down. You knew he was taking her somewhere to get her mind off of today's destruction. In another part, you're glad Tyler is the gentleman he is, in another, you wish you were in Kate’s position. 

“See!” You continue. “They’re probably going to a bar or something, take her mind off of things,”

Dani rolled their eyes. They heard the slight change in your tone, the hurt and hint of jealousy. They understand, they know just how long you've been harboring your crush. 

They sigh and turn, leaving you as you watch Tyler and Kate disappear into the night. 

—

“You used to be a rodeo cowboy?” Kate laughs, both in disbelief and awe. The man beside her grows slightly in color, admittedly looking anywhere but at her. 

He nods shortly. “Yeah, only for a bit, before I went to college and became a meteorologist,”

“I knew chasin’ storm was my calling, as much as I loved takin’ care of the bulls and horses,” 

Tyler’s focus is back on the show in front of them as Kate nods in acknowledgment. She used to go to rodeo shows, albeit not as much since she was busier with her studies, and not long after moving into New York. Tyler, much to her credit, isn't as bad as his internet persona makes him out to be.

The man beside her is confident but not cocky, has his knowledge to back up his snarkiness. She smiles when he laughs, captivating brown eyes enraptures her.

Kate recalls the moment before she stormed inside her room. Just out of her peripherals, she saw Tyler with his friend, the one other person he seemed to have a special connection unlike the others. She knows how much Tyler cares about his team, they're basically his family, though with the man that stood beside him, and the way Tyler had a secure hand on the man's back, Kate knew there was a hidden meaning between the gesture. She was too overwhelmed by her emotions that she shut herself in her room without much thinking, not until Tylern coaxed her out to watch the rodeo show. 

Another round of cheers erupted in the audience. All was well, until the wind picked up and Kate’s heart dropped. 

—

“Tyler fucking Owens!” Said man immediately spun around when he heard the familiar voice. Before he could react, strong hands grabbed the sides of his face like a vice. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Are you okay? Hurt anywhere? Is everyone else okay? Where’s Kate–”

“Hey- Hey now, hey,” 

Tyler holds your wrists, his hold warm and grounding, evidence of his existence. It soothes you immediately, the consuming fear slowly dwindles into nothingness and when he slowly rubs circles atop your veins the erratic pumps subside. 

“Darlin’, I'm alright.” A smile playing at his lips.

Relief engulfs you as you choke back a sob. Instead, you pulled at the back of Tyler's head, crown connected with crown as you shut your eyes tight. You feel his hand slide to your nap, soothing your worry, another hand snakes its way from just below your ribs then to the middle of your back. A small pocket in the world was formed, a place enough for the two of you to let your worries float away, a bubble where you’re sure Tyler is safe in your arms. 

When Dexter informed the group of the tornado alert one town over, a chill ran down your spine. You left almost 20 miscalls on Tyler's phone and immediately headed to the town where the alert took place, hoping to god Tyler and Kate didn't spend the evening there. 

Your fear came true when you spotted the two between debris, ambulance and emergency personnel already surrounding the two to make sure of their condition and before you knew it you sprinted past the other civilians towards Tyler.

“Im glad.” You manage to choke out as the two of you separate, though your hand lingers on his shoulder. Tyler pats at your arm before he gives it a reassuring squeeze, the last of your anxiety ebbs away. 

You turn to see Kate making her way through the debris which immediately changes your focus to her. “Hey- Kate!” 

—

“Wait wha- I thought you ran in there to get Kate? Ty her planes about to leave-”

“I can't keep chasin’ someone I don't want.” He stops in front of you, his chest rising and deflating from his run in and out of the airport. 

“What do you mean?” 

He smiles, taking a step closer towards you which you instinctively backed away from. “Kate made me realize something that- damn smart woman!” Hes grinning, wide and blidning.

“When we met, I thought I wanted someone like her. She great, don't get me wrong, smart woman and I know she’ll go places if she keeps up in the storm business  but also- Meeting her made me realize something,”

He pauses as his hands slowly glided upwards, warm on your arms where they land. “As much as I wanted her, I’ve never worried about anyone as much as I worried about you.”

“When you ran after Kate yesterday, outside into the tornado, I thought I lost you. I was so scared- I’ve never felt fear like that. You were selfless, you ran with her knowing your safety wasn't guaranteed.”

He takes a ragged breath as he blinks rapidly, and your worry rises. He continues. “We’ve known each other for a long time, baby you were there when we started it all,” 

“All I’m sayin’ is that- I’ve liked you. Loved you for so long but I kept avoiding it cuz’ i didn’t wanna ruin what we have, And meeting Kate? Made me realize I shouldn't keep avoiding something I know you want too.” 

Finally, finally Tyler stopped to breathe as you stared, bewildered. On one side, you can feel your face growing in warmth from his, albeit, sudden and hurried confession, on another side you worry just how forward you had been with him. Were you the one that made him question his sexuality-

“But you’re not gay… are you?” You hesitate, voice small. 

Tyler laughs and it's almost contagious. “Honestly that's- I don't know. Not yet. But loving you? That, I'm certain.”

“But you- I'm a guy, Tyler. You see me as a dude, don't you? You don-”

“No, God no! I don't care what you were. You’re you, baby, and I love you for you,” 

You’re at a loss for words. You thought the man you’ve had a crush on was going to run into the airport and kiss the girl of his dreams, similar to those cheesy romance movies Dani and Lilly likes to watch but no. No. instead, the man of your dreams, the protagonist of your love life, is standing in front of you, devotion and love and yearning in his eyes as he stares into yours. He holds your arms softly yet insistent. 

You answer, through a trembling voice, “I.. I love you too, Tyler,” 

Without missing a beat, Tyler crashes his lips into yours. He pulls you by your hips, secure arms around you as you wrap your arms around his neck. He couldn't help but grin, making you laugh before he steals yet another breath, deepening the kiss by moving languidly, hand now rubbing circles. When your lungs burn, begging for oxygen, the two of you part, both panting with the centimeter of distance. Tyler rests his forehead against yours, sighing in pure contentment. 

“Woo! Finally!” You hear Javi’s voice making you recoil in surprise. The man in question is leaning out of the Storm Par truck, cheering at both you and Tyler. You laugh at his excitement, then suddenly Tyler’s head drops to hide into the crook of your neck, letting out a small whine. The sound would've spurred you on if it weren't for Kate also cheering as she walks out of the airport's doors. 

“Yes! Took you two long enough!” She grins, quickly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture. “I’m sending this to Lilly,” 

You laugh, holding onto Tyler’s flannel while he does the same, his laughs ghosting over your pulse. He stands, though his eyes are still deep in yours. Tyler moves a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm smile enveloping you. You can't help to smile as well, letting yourself fall deeper into those captivating browns.

— reblogs appreciated! Requests are open!

[doodle-pops]

Feanor Walking You Down The Aisle

Request: Hello, Mina darling, can I please request some small headcanons about asking Feänor to walk you down the aisle? The reader is marrying one of his sons (unmentioned) and she has no family in her life to do it, so she asks Feänor? Thank you for considering, darling. - Anon

A/N: This was fun to write! Thanks for requesting this!

◈ Growing up without a stable family in your life left you with no one. Not once had you ever felt welcomed or a part of the community until you met one of the Princes of the Noldor. A son of the Crown Prince Fëanáro fell in love with you without questioning your background at all.

◈ His family did all that they could to make you feel welcome, not to mention his brothers ensuring that you were a victim of all their daily bullying and antics to make you feel even more like family.

◈ His mother pitied and loved you tremendously, wanting nothing more than to take you in immediately. Nerdanel was ecstatic when she learnt of the betrothment news, meaning that you were about to become an official family. However, there was just one issue at hand, a lack of a father to walk you down the aisle and give you away to your husband.

◈ The only stable male figure in your life was your betrothed’s father and you were unsure if he would be willing to walk down the aisle and give you away to his son. Not once were you on the receiving end of his temper or ill-manners a few people had spoken about, so it seemed all well to make the request.

◈ You’re nervous about the request, so you ask your betrothal if he could arrange a brunch or tea for all three of you to meet as the wedding is approaching. There, you sat, appearing like a bag of jitters before Feanor who was confused at your uneasiness.

◈ In the beginning, everything was running smoothly at the behest of your beloved. Aware of your nerves, he took over and got the conversation rolling between him and his father, occasionally including you at certain times appropriate to throw the question out there.

◈ But you’re unable to for the greater part of the conversation. So Feanor interjects, aware that you have something on your mind and requests if he should depart to give you and his son alone time to deal with the matter.

◈ At his thoughtfulness, your words tumbled out your mouth before you even knew it, and there you confessed your wish to have him walk you down the aisle as your father.

◈ On Feanor’s end, he was appalled that you would have considered him so high in your eyes to fulfil that offer. Being seen not only as your father-in-law but as an actual fatherly figure makes him forego considering and directly accepting.   

◈ He ignores the fact that you blurted it out in a vomit of random syllables and removes himself from his chair to usher you into a stance. He is gentle and soft as he celebrates your request with a fatherly embrace and soft words that put him into a chokehold.

◈ “You have brought great joy to me onya. It would be foolish of me to reject your wonderful offer.”

◈ On your big day, any nerves that you had were all washed away by Feanor’s presence at your side as he stood at the end of the aisle bequeathing courage and reassurance that he won’t let you fall or slip up. “It is a father’s job to never let his child fall.”

◈ Your entire wedding ceremony passes in bliss as Feanor takes his time to guide you down the aisle, he even offers his handkerchief to you when you teared up at the altar. During the entire ceremony, he sits patiently with a smile at the memory of walking you down the aisle as his child.

◈ Furthermore, to sink it in that you consider him as a father figure, for the father-daughter dance, you request that he join you on the floor to share that moment with you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @addaigio @lamemaster @stormchaser819

[ceilidho]

soapgaz x reader stormchasers would go insane

[something-tofightfor]

Fool's Gold 6: Storms Will Pass and I'll Remain

Pairing: Pirate Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (with a twist)

Rating: M.

Word Count: 9,954

Summary: With the pirates taken care of and the truth revealed, you and Oberyn have a lot to talk about. There's only hours to go until you reach Dorne, which means that everything's about to change ... again. Even with Oberyn's assurances, your fears get the better of you, and there's no hiding it.

Author's Note:

IT'S PEDROTOBER 2024 OBERYN MARTELL DAY!!! I couldn't let the day pass without posting.

This is a little longer than expected, but I didn't want to drag out the final hours on the ship more than necessary. I cannot wait to get to Dorne - and hope you're excited, too.

If you want to talk about this story (or any of my others) please feel free to pop into my inbox or DMs!

Chapter title comes from "The Stormchaser" by Caligula's Horse.

Fool's Gold Masterlist

You went back onto the ship’s top deck, Oberyn walking a few paces ahead of you. 

Even in the short time you’d been down in his quarters, the crew had made progress with cleaning up after the attack. 

The wood had been scrubbed free of blood, crates and barrels were stacked back into place, and the prisoners were nowhere to be found. There are no bodies either. You wondered what had been done with them - if they’d been moved back onto the other ship or simply tossed into the water, made into meals for the creatures that lurked below. 

The smell of smoke filled the air and you turned toward the source, watching as the pirates’ ship burned in the distance. “It was necessary.” He touched your arm, drawing your attention back in his direction. “They would have chased us if we’d just let them go back onboard.” 

“And now if they make it to one of the islands and are rescued, they’ll just talk about how they need to find the Blood Adder’s ship.” He nodded. “And this ship won’t be sailing anywhere anytime soon, will it?” 

“No.” You made your way to the same area you’d first spoken in, Oberyn gesturing for you to sit. “No, she’ll need some repairs, and new sails. The next time anyone sees her…” He looked up, eyes lingering on the wheel. “She’ll be a Dornish pleasure ship again.”

“That’s been true this whole time, though.” He smiled at your words, taking a seat next to you. “I understand why you didn’t tell me the truth right away, Oberyn, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t upset.” 

“I know.” He clasped his hands together, one thumb spinning the golden ring on the other. “And I am sorry for lying to you.” He paused long enough to let the apology sink in. “I thought, at first, that you knew who I was.” What? “I thought you were pretending to have no memory and that you recognized me since you knew so much about Oberyn. I assumed it was all a ruse, and because I was finally on my way home, I was … worried.” 

“I didn’t, and it wasn’t.” You bit your lip, wincing as you felt the wound on your side pull. “I thought … I thought that some things about you and this ship didn’t seem right, but I never thought you were Prince Oberyn Martell.” He smiled at that, still staring out at the horizon. “Now, it makes sense, though.” 

“How?” He angled his body toward you, eyes narrowed. “What wasn’t right?” 

“Your hands aren’t rough enough to have lived a life on the sea. You spent far too much time with me to captain the ship.” You looked down at your hands, thinking. “You and your crew are too kind, especially to a woman like me.” You pointed at the plume of smoke. “If they’d found me? There would have been no question about what my future held.” 

He didn’t disagree, but Oberyn did say your name then, reaching over to take one of your hands. He held it gently, eyes downcast to focus on where you were connected. 

“I left the drawers unlocked and the journals out, even in the beginning. But you didn’t read them. You could have at any time, but you didn’t.” He was right - and that reminder made his reaction to you not reading Oberyn’s letters much more understandable, too. He tried to tell me even when he had no reason to trust me. 

“Your promises make more sense now, too.” You held up your other hand, his ring still on your finger. “To keep me safe and to give me choices?” You wiggled your fingers, his gaze rising briefly to watch. “This has a version of the Martell sigil on it, doesn’t it?” He nodded. “Do the people in Tyrosh know that -”

“There are rumors.” He smiled, the expression smug. “The only people that truly know are Doran, Ellaria, my oldest children, the crew on this ship, and a few friends in port cities that I couldn’t avoid.” Of course. “And now you.” 

The gold glinted in the sunlight, and for the first time, you realized exactly what it meant that you were under the protection of the Dornish Prince. “You meant it. You meant that I had a choice about Perle and Oldtown. You meant that I didn’t have to go, and -”

“I did. I do.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “I will invite that Lord to Sunspear and lie to his face about finding pieces of your ship and an empty raft if remaining in Sunspear with me is what you choose. I know you’re worried about your parents, but as I said before, there are options, even though in my opinion they don’t deserve them.” 

Hearing him speak about your parents that way hurt - but not as much as you’d thought it would. Because I think the same, too. They didn’t care where they sent me as long as it meant they survived.

He was right. It wasn’t just that you’d been picked up by a pirate and had a chance at a new life in a far off land when he set you free. Oberyn had promised you a place to stay and whatever type of life you chose in Dorne, including a job. “But if you’re Oberyn Martell, that means that your … that when we get to Dorne, Ellaria will be there. And I’ll just be …” 

If he’d gone back to just a woman he was in love with, that would have been one thing. But Oberyn and Ellaria’s devotion to each other - and the lengths they’d go to prove it - was one of the best known facts in the realm. But so is the understanding that they seek others out often. That realization brought up another thing for you to consider, though. 

“Ellaria won’t like that you’re returning after so long with someone. I know you two don’t have a conventional relationship, but -”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He moved closer, changing his grip on your hand so that he could slide his fingers between yours. “She will understand, especially when Nymeria and Obara tell her what they know.” You thought back to their surprise when they’d seen his ring on your hand, and that memory made you react almost violently. 

“Take this back.” You pulled your hand free and removed the jewelry, holding it out to him. “I have no business wearing this when we return to your home. It served its purpose, and I’m thankful, but …” But I cannot arrive in Dorne wearing a piece of your jewelry on my finger when Ellaria doesn’t. “But I won’t need it in Dorne.” 

“No, you won’t.” He took the ring back and slipped it on, flexing the digits a few times. “You must have many questions. What’s on those pages answered some things, but … there is so much I couldn’t put into written words.” 

“You were injured in the attack.” He nodded, swallowing. “How did you survive that?”

“When I was stabbed, I went overboard. I’m a good fighter, but in those moments, it was safer for me and my crew to let them think they’d won. I am a strong swimmer, even injured, and I managed to reach one of the below deck windows and climb back onto the ship.” He paused, thinking. “I hid for hours behind a stack of crates, waiting until we were underway again before I snuck out and found some of my men.” 

“I bet they were surprised.” He cocked his head to the side and winked at you. 

“Not as surprised as you might think.” That made you laugh, and when he reached over to take your hand again, you let him, curling your fingers against his. “It was much easier than you’d imagine to overtake the pirates in the darkness and take my ship back.” He nodded. “I killed the man who took this ship with the same weapon that Cersei’s lapdog thought he killed me with. And once they were all gone, the healer finally tended to my wounds.” 

“And you’ve just been sailing around since?” He nodded. “No one wanted to go home? Your whole crew just decided to -”

“A few of them did, and we let them. They were how we got word to Doran and Ellaria and my daughters that I survived. They were the proof my family needed to prepare for the news from King’s Landing and Cersei fucking Lannister.” He snarled the words out and then lowered his head, scoffing. “And we have been sailing ever since, waiting for the right time to go home and reveal to the world that I am still alive and still angry.”

“And now’s the right time.” He nodded twice. “Because of Prince Doran’s health.”

“It has worsened.” Oberyn closed his eyes. “A Martell has ruled Dorne for as long as it has existed, and that will not change. If … when my brother is no longer able to remain in power, my nephew will need guidance.” 

“So you’re going home for good.” He nodded again, his eyes still on the horizon. “Will Cersei try to kill you again?” 

“She’s got bigger problems now.” He smiled, the expression almost soft. “The Dragon Queen. Her own people rebelling against her. Losing two of her sons to death and her daughter to us.” He turned his head, meeting your eyes. “My daughters tell me that Princess Myrcella has fallen in love with Trystane, and does not want to leave Dorne.” 

“A Baratheon and a Martell? That’s quite the surprising pairing.” 

“Hmm.” He nodded, taking a deep breath before his smile turned into a smirk. “It will surprise you more to hear that Baratheon isn’t even the girl’s correct name.” 

There had been rumors that had made their way to Braavos; whispers of Cersei and her own brother together, but you’d never believed any of them. It wasn’t because you didn’t think it possible, instead it was because there’d only been the whispers - and nothing certain. 

“Oberyn, are you saying …” You moved slightly closer, head shaking back and forth. “That the rumors are truths? That the King Robert isn’t actually -”

“I am.” He cleared his throat. “And you can believe me when I say that in Dorne, we care very little what a child’s parentage is, or how it impacts their status or who anyone chooses to love … but a brother and sister passing their children off as future kings or queens under another banner?” His jaw was set. “No. Even that is not acceptable in Dorne, and even a Lannister child deserves better.” 

“But Cersei will want to attend the wedding.” You crossed your arms. “And if it’s in Dorne, then you’ll be in danger. Again.” You didn’t want to think about it; Oberyn fearing for his life in his own home just because a woman was hellbent on revenge.

“We will make those plans when the time comes.” Oberyn reached over and settled his hand on your knee. “They are still a few years away from marriage. And Cersei … she may not have that much time left.” 

You didn’t know what he meant by that. You wanted to ask, but didn’t want to overwhelm him with questions or get overwhelmed with his answers - and so you chose another route - and entirely changed the topic of conversation. “When we get to Dorne tomorrow, what … what will I do?” 

“You’ll come with me to my home. You’ll greet my brother. You’ll meet Ellaria. We’ll tell your story, and then you’ll go off and take a real bath and eat a real meal. You’ll sleep in a real bed, but still have the sounds of the sea coming in through the window, and then …” His smile grew, one of Oberyn’s hands rising so that he could cradle your cheek against his palm. “And then I will show you the place where I was raised.” 

“The palace?” He nodded, swallowing. 

“And the Water Gardens, and the orchards and the markets. All of it. I’m going to make you fall in love with Dorne.” 

“It sounds like it won’t be that difficult for you.” He grinned at your words, shrugging as he pulled his hand back and rested both atop his thighs. “Oberyn, I know … I know that you haven’t been home in a long time, and when you get there, you’ll have things to do.” You paused, looking down at your hands and then back over at him. I might as well say it; we’re both thinking it. “You and Ellaria have a lot of lost time to make up for.” 

“We do.” He said nothing else for a long time, and you watched the smile on his face as it was replaced with a frown. You hated being responsible for putting that expression there, especially when he was so excited about going home.

“I don’t want you to feel responsible for me once we get there. You don’t need to pull yourself away from your family to make me feel comfortable. I’ll just …” You looked away and out over the water, forcing a smile. “I just need a place to sleep and to know where to go for meals, and -”

“Stop.” He reached for you again, whispering your name. “I know what getting back to Sunspear means. I’ve been looking forward to it since the day I pulled myself out of the sea and back onto this ship. But me being back home doesn’t mean that every word that has come out of my mouth to you was worthless.” 

“I never said -”

“No, you didn’t. But for some reason you seem to believe that once I step foot back into Sunspear, you’ll be forgotten or that I won’t want to spend time with you.” He leaned in, locking eyes with you. “That could not be further from the truth.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that the honesty in his eyes - and the seriousness of his tone would matter when you reached Dorne. You wanted to believe that even after Oberyn got his hands back on Ellaria, there’d still be enough of a place for you in his life for what he was promising to become reality. But I can’t count on that. 

“Oberyn, I’m just trying to be realistic. You’re a Prince. You have a woman that is your wife in, as you put it, all the ways that matter. You’re going to have things to do and people to see and stories to tell. You’ll have responsibilities to the throne, even if you’re not in line to inherit. You say that you want me to fall in love with Dorne, but what happens then? I stay and rely on your kindness for the rest of my life just because I find Sunspear or the Water Gardens agreeable?” 

“Tell me what it is that you’re not saying.” He stood abruptly, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw anger in his eyes that was directed at you. “I want the truth.” He didn’t reach for you. Instead, he let his arms hang loosely by his sides, his fingers curled in toward his palms. 

“My fate in Oldtown with Perle would be to become his wife and bear his children and sit silently and take whatever abuse he deemed appropriate as my husband. I wouldn’t be happy, but I’d know that my parents and their business were alright.” You wet your lips, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “In Dorne? What is my future there? No matter how much I enjoy a place, I still need to make a living if I won’t be married off to someone that is expected to support me. And I’m afraid, Oberyn, that my staying would make it seem like I was taking advantage of your offer or trying to force something impossible. I don’t know that I could accept that.” 

That wasn’t even everything that you weren’t saying - and he knew it. “There is more.” He crossed his arms, waiting. You didn’t want to admit the depth of your worries, because it wasn’t fair to him. “I’ll stand here all night if I need to.” I know you will. 

You weren’t getting out of it, and after a few more moments of thought, you nodded, covering your face and taking a breath to steady yourself. The sooner I say it, the sooner he can set expectations. “I have become attached to you in the time since we’ve met, and I’m not sure how I’ll react when there’s more space and more people between us, Oberyn.”  Ellaria. I’m not sure how I’m going to react to seeing you with the woman you love, even though I knew it was coming. “And going to Dorne may not prove to be as perfect a solution as I hope it will be.”

“What changed?” His tone softened slightly and his posture loosened, Oberyn shifting his feet. “You were excited to go to Dorne and to see it, and now … you’re anticipating the worst before you even get there.”

“I didn’t know you were a Prince. I thought … we’d get to Sunspear and even if you were wealthy or had a large home, we’d still… cross paths occasionally after things settled. I am excited to see Dorne. I’m looking forward to it, but I also dread it because who you are? It changes everything. What you’re going back to? You’re not just returning home to a woman you love. You’re returning to Ellaria Sand, I don’t belong anywhere near -”

“You do if I say you do.” He held out his hands and you took them, letting him help you to your feet. “And I say you do. You will not be a prisoner in Dorne. You will not be expected to marry or have children or serve any man. For as long as you wish to stay, you are a guest of the Martells - my guest. And between you and me?” He leaned closer, the warmth back in his eyes. “I would be happy to have you stay for good.” 

“What do you gain from it?” You pulled free, turning away from him and shaking your head as you stepped toward the railing. “I still don’t remember everything about myself or my past. I can’t offer you coin or an army or -”

“Stop.” He reached out, gripping your upper arm. “I don’t care about any of those things.” He tightened his hold, and even though it wasn’t painful, it was still more tightly than he’d ever held you before. “Turn around and look at me.” 

You did, and were ashamed to realize that there were tears in your eyes. “Oberyn -” His fingers loosened, though he didn’t pull his hand back. 

“You are not the only one who has become attached.” He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as it moved back and forth. “The thought of you going anywhere that is not Dorne saddens me. The thought of you returning to your home and letting your parents choose your future or going to Oldtown and letting Perle do what he pleases sickens me.” He lifted his other hand and cupped your cheek with it. “You deserve better. You deserve to have what you want and who you want. I can give you that. Dorne can offer that.” Can you? 

“But why? Why would you do that for me with everything else you’ll return home to? We only met each other weeks ago. I -”

“Because I want to.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Because you gave me a chance, even when you didn’t trust me or know who I was.” He opened his eyes and there was sadness in them. “My whole life has been one opportunity after another because of my lineage. I’ve made the most of it, and like to think that I’ve proven that I am more than the Martell name, but …” He looked down and then raised his head, meeting your eyes. “It was new to meet someone new without any of those expectations hanging over my head.”

You hadn’t thought of it that way, but it made total sense. It doesn’t change anything though. “Everyone will just think that I’m one of your -”

“Fuck what they think.” He stepped closer, the sadness in his eyes gone. “It only matters what we think and what we know. ” 

“It’s going to take some getting used to.” He nodded, and you could feel your heart racing. “But will you promise me something?”

“Of course.” He wet his lips. “Anything.” 

You didn’t doubt that he meant it, but you were unprepared for the surety in his voice and the steely look of determination he gave you. It threw you for a few seconds but when you recovered, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, holding it before you let it out slowly. 

“No matter what happens, please don’t lie to me. I know there will be things you can’t tell me about your family’s dealings and that’s to be expected with your position, but I can handle truths. They might hurt, but I need them.” He looked confused. “For example, if Ellaria is unhappy I’m in Dorne, I need to know. I don’t want to cause tension between you, so -”

“If she’s unhappy you’re in Dorne, she will tell you.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “And you’re so concerned with her being displeased that you’re coming home with me, why? We have done nothing wrong.” 

“I forget just how different things are between you two sometimes.” You looked out and over the water, needing a few moments to think. “When it comes to sharing each other, anyway.” It was the truth, and even though he’d told you over and over that what was happening between you wouldn’t be a problem after going home, it was difficult for you to believe it. Even after finding out who he is. 

“I would be a fool to believe that Ellaria hasn’t found someone … or many someones to keep her busy in the time that I’ve been gone.” He shrugged, stepping next to you and turning his body so that he was facing the water. “I certainly kept myself occupied. I will not hold that against her in the same way she won’t question my behavior when it comes to you.” 

It confirmed what you’d thought about him even before learning who he really was - and the truth to the reputation of Oberyn Martell. But. “Bringing someone home is different, Oberyn. And even though we haven’t… even though it’s just been…” You struggled with your words and he saved you, turning his head and murmuring your name. 

“You want the truth from me?” You nodded. “It would be easier to explain things if we already had slept together. But I am not welcoming you to Dorne only to warm my bed, and that is different.” That set off a new flood of panic within you, and you were angry that you hadn’t thought of it at first. Of course us being together just for sex would complicate everything less. That’s what they do.

“We still have tonight.” You rushed the words out, heartbeat racing as you gripped the railing. “We can change that. We can -”

“No.” He settled his hand over yours and squeezed. “The time for that has passed.” You wondered if he meant on the ship or in totality, but couldn’t force yourself to ask. Instead, you opted for humor. 

“Oberyn Martell, turning down a lover? Are you sure it’s really you?” That made him laugh, which eased your panic slightly - but then it went elsewhere and reared back up. “If you’re not bringing me back as that, what will we tell people about who I am and why I’m with you?” 

“That depends on you.” He straightened up and then leaned against the wood, recrossing his arms. “You may want to think that over and decide what you want the story to be after you meet my family. But all we have to say is the truth: I found you in a raft, floating in the water, and I couldn’t just leave you there to die.” It was good advice, but it still didn’t answer exactly who you were or where you’d been going. You still had the token you could use if you chose to disappear, so even if you told the whole truth, you weren’t trapped. “Are you hungry? It’s getting late, and they’re making a feast to use as much of the remaining food as possible.” 

“I am.” You closed your eyes, thanking him for the distraction. “Are you?”

“Very.” He stepped away from the railing and motioned for you to take his hand. “Will you have dinner with me?” 

“Of course, Your Grace.” He rolled his eyes but linked his fingers with yours and pulled you closer, his other hand finding its way to your waist. “Oberyn, what -” 

“Ellaria is going to like you,” he whispered the words, angling his head so that he could speak them directly into your ear. “Because it seems as though you share her enthusiasm for teasing me.” That made you laugh, but it turned into a sharp inhale when he pressed his lips to your temple before pulling back, his smirk full of mischief. “I will have my hands very full between the two of you.” 

You hoped he was right. 

You hoped that when you met Ellaria Sand, you’d get along with her. You desperately hoped that she understood that even before you’d known who he was, you’d cared for Oberyn. And that he cares about me. “We’ll see. Maybe it’s going to be us that have their hands full.” Swallowing back a lump in your throat, you squeezed his hand before he could respond. “Food, Oberyn. I want to hear all about your weapons training.” 

— 

You ate with a large group of the crew and halfway through, Obara and Nymeria breezed in, both of them giddy. 

They sat with you and spent the better part of the evening telling you stories about Oberyn and their upbringing in Dorne. It was clear that despite the way things had begun for them, they’d adapted to the life he’d offered and flourished under his care - and with his love. He’d never send them away only for his own benefit.

Everyone was excited; the room was buzzing with conversation, and even though you were focused on what Oberyn and his daughters were saying, you couldn’t help listening to the others, too. They’re all so happy to be going home.

“Are we boring you?” He was leaning back in his chair, a goblet of wine dangling from between two fingers. “You seem distracted.” Oberyn went quiet, arching a brow and staring you down. It was a look that you hadn’t yet seen from him, and you could feel the heat in it, his eyes bright. 

“Of course not.” You picked up a small handful of berries and ate one of them, gesturing with your hand. “This is the most excited I’ve ever heard or seen the crew, and I’m just … it’s hard not to pay attention to them, too.” 

“They deserve long rests.” He finished the wine and set the cup down, his eyes moving away from you and over the other people in the room. “And they will get them. We all will.” He stood suddenly, clearing his throat. What is he doing? “Everyone.” He held up a hand and the room went silent almost immediately. “I want to thank you.” 

You turned in your chair to stare up at him, watching as his posture changed - shoulders back, head held high. He looked around the room, nodding, and you watched the set of his jaw change too, his lower lip jutting out slightly as his lips turned downward in thought. 

“I have kept you away from your homes and your families and your lives for far too long. I am sorry it took many months. I never intended -” He sighed. “If I didn’t want to be away this long, I can’t imagine any of you would, either.” 

There was murmur of agreement, but no one actually spoke up. It didn’t surprise you. Even though they were likely closer with him than was typical with a member of the Martell family and sailors, it was clear that he’d shifted from pretending to be Daavos to once again being Oberyn in the hours since the Dornish port had become the next destination. And they respect him. They respect his position. They don’t fear him like so many others would fear the ones they serve. 

“You have my gratitude. It has been an honor to spend so many months in such close quarters with people like yourselves who are so loyal to my -”

“For Dorne!” One of the men stood, lifting one hand to his chest and then bowing his head. And  then another man stood, adopting the same position. 

“For the Martells!” Slowly, the others joined them, rising to their feet and making their own declarations - a combination of  the two phrases you’d heard already, accompanied with a few indecipherable ones, too. Even Obara and Nymeria stood, turning their attention toward their father. He reached out and put an arm around both of them, and you could feel the pride he had in them - and what they’d accomplished.

You rose, too, curling your fingers inward before you pressed your fist to your chest. He held power over the crew - and so did his daughters, despite their origins. It impressed you. You were certain that you’d seen the arrivals of nobility in Braavos, and even though you couldn’t remember your entire life, you knew that if you’d seen anything similar, it would have stuck with you. They love him. They love him in a way that the Lannisters could never begin to imagine anyone loving them. 

His daughters were watching the room, their smiles broad. But Oberyn was eyeing you, waiting. And instead of using something that the others had said, you took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders and met Oberyn’s eyes. “Fuck Cersei Lannister.” 

That made him laugh, his head tipping back to expose his throat as his eyes closed. 

It was short lived, though, because Oberyn returned his attention to the crowd and held up his hand again, waiting until the noise had died down slightly. “What are our words?” 

“Unbowed!” The voices were a chorus, with no hesitation. “Unbent!” Oberyn and his daughters joined in, their smiles never faltering. “Unbroken!” It repeated, over and over, the volume growing as people began to bang on the tables and clap their hands together. You didn’t join in - you weren’t Dornish, and it didn’t feel right, but that didn’t seem to matter. 

Oberyn pressed kisses to the tops of his daughters heads before releasing them and beginning to move into the crowd. He circled the room slowly, thanking people one by one. When he made it back to where you stood, he stepped behind you, the heat from his body apparent even through your clothes as you both faced the entirety of the room. 

It was an intimate position, and though everyone’s eyes were on you, you felt no judgment from them at their Prince’s display of affection. Instead, you felt peace - leaning back into Oberyn and allowing yourself a small smile. I can’t get used to this, but there’s no harm in this one moment. He cleared his throat, inching closer.  

“Tomorrow we will be home. Tomorrow we will feel the Dornish sun and smell the Dornish air and gorge on Dornish food and wine. Tonight?” You felt his hand on your hip, his chest pressed against your back as he inhaled deeply. “All I ask is that you make sure we get there safely.” 

Everyone laughed, some shouting out their promises to him. Moments later, the attention fell away from where you stood as people returned to their food and drink. But Oberyn didn’t step away. Instead he urged you to turn around, his hand remaining in place. 

“That was an impressive show, Oberyn.” He winked at you, his lips twisting upward into a smile.

“That was nothing.” He sighed. “Let me walk you back to your room.” Gesturing to your side, he frowned. “It must be painful.” You hadn’t noticed it throughout his speech, but your side did ache. “Obara. Nym. I’ll see you in the morning?” 

Both of them nodded, Obara’s smirk directed at both you and her father, but then they turned away and toward a table where a group of sailors were laughing heartily. “Thank you. But you don’t have to. I can get there on my own.” 

“I insist.” He led you from the room and down the hall, footsteps quiet on the sleek flooring. Both of you stopped to use the commode and washroom, and then resumed your path to his quarters. “I meant what I said in there. All of them - the crew and my men - will get the rest they deserve once we’re home. They have lives and families to get back to, and I’ve stolen enough of their time.”

“They all want to be here, Oberyn. They love you.” You were getting close to the doorway, and your steps slowed, trying to drag out the time until you said goodbye. “They’re all loyal. I’m sure they’ll be happy to be back on land for longer than a few days at a time, but …” You turned to face him. “I very much doubt that any of them hold it against you that they’ve been away for as long as they have.” 

“You may be right.” He took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder at the door to his quarters. “If I was out of line in front of them with you, I apologize. I should not have … put my hands on you, at least without knowing if it would make you uncomfortable.” 

“It didn’t.” Closing your eyes, you lowered your head. “I liked it. I know that’s not how it’s going to be in Dorne, but it was nice to feel so wanted.” He stepped closer, keeping his eyes on you. 

“You really think I won’t want you in -” He was interrupted by the ship’s movement on the waves, and much like the first night you’d been in the same position, you lost your balance. You took two steps forward, both hands shooting out to steady yourself. 

He caught you, keeping you upright, but that night, he didn’t hesitate to hold you close. He said your name quietly, one hand on your elbow and the other pressed to your back. You had every reason to push him away - the fact that he was a prince, the fact that he was going home to Ellaria Sand, the fact that he’d already told you that there was no chance for sex on the ship and letting yourself get even closer was a dangerous game - but instead of that you curled your fingers in his shirt and sighed. 

“I’m not going to stop you from kissing me like I did the first night, Oberyn.” 

His eyes flashed but he didn’t keep you waiting. His hand slid up to the back of your head and angled it so that when he leaned in to press his lips to yours, the connection was perfect. The kiss didn’t linger, though, and it was Oberyn that backed away first, clearing his throat. “Goodnight. We should arrive in Dorne before midday tomorrow, so -”

“I thought you said you wanted to stay.” It was a risk, but if you were going to believe what Oberyn said to you, you needed to begin with accepting the things that he’d said before you knew who he was. Because he said nothing was changing. He said he still wants me. “Just this morning, you said you wanted to spend the night. Has that changed?” 

Questioning Oberyn - even in private - wasn’t something that you’d ever expected yourself to do, but in the darkness of the hallway, you did it anyway. All he can say is no. “Even though I lied to you for weeks?” You nodded, heart pounding as you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Even though you believe that after tomorrow, nothing will be the same between us?” 

“Especially because I know that once we’re back in Dorne, it may be some time until I see you after sundown, Oberyn.” It stung, but it was the truth. “Between Ellaria and your duties and all of the Dornish pleasure houses that have certainly missed your patronage for the last two years, I’ll have to wait my turn.” 

He blinked a few times before taking a deep breath, and then Oberyn reached around you and pushed the door open, nodding. Reluctantly, you turned away and walked in, the realization that it was the last time you’d enter for the purpose of sleeping hitting you all at once and stopping you in your tracks. 

“What’s wrong?” The sound of the door closing behind him was soft, and then his arms were around you, Oberyn’s mouth next to your ear. “Is everything alright?” 

“This is the last night I’ll… we’ll spend in this room.” You looked around, eyeing your surroundings. “I remember much of my home, but this room… this ship, and you, Oberyn…” You turned to face him again, your lower lip trembling. “I feel safe here, with you. And I know that Dorne is safe, too, and that people will help to reassure me of that.” But it scares me. “It’s not just about us being different once we’re on land, it’s everything.” 

He was frowning, his eyes searching your face, but Oberyn didn’t answer you. You wondered if you’d said the wrong thing, wondered if you’d voiced the thing that would make him regret inviting you to his home. But when his expression softened and Oberyn closed his eyes, sighing, instead of pushing you away he pulled you closer, urging you toward him. 

“I did not consider that, and I should have.” He spoke against your hair, his chest rising and falling steadily. “It will be different. It will be new. But you will not be truly alone. Even if I am not with you, or one of my daughters aren’t beside you, you’ll have everything you need. Anything you might want. I hope … I hope that one day, you will feel as at home in Dorne as I do.”

It was an offhand comment, but you understood the significance of it. You feeling that comfortable in Dorne would only happen if you were there long term, and that was only possible if you chose to stay for good. You closed your eyes and hugged him tightly, hissing out in pain as the wound on your side rubbed against your clothing. 

Oberyn immediately let you go, holding you at arm’s length and letting his eyes drop. “I need to see that.” You lifted the material without thought and Oberyn dropped to his knees, the tips of his fingers gently skating over your skin and then removing the bandage. Staring down at the crown of his head, you tried to stay still as he examined you, though it was difficult because of the pain - and because of the way your stomach bottomed out at the way he touched you. 

“Despite my best efforts, this may require an actual healer.” He glanced up, and you saw the worry in his eyes. “It is deep, and if the blade was filthy, it will need to be thoroughly cleaned.” 

“You cleaned it.” Wincing as he touched the skin just below the injury, you let out a shaky breath. “You studied poisons, and -”

“I do not think he poisoned you.” Oberyn reached for more bandages and re-covered the area, securing it with a small knot. “But I do think the blade was dirty. And while supplies on this ship are limited, they’re plentiful on land.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to the dressing, his hands on your hips. 

It was a position that you’d never have even dreamed to find yourself in - the Red Viper of Dorne on his knees in front of you - and so when he pulled away enough to look up and meet your eyes, you savored the sight of him. 

There was need in his gaze, and you didn’t try to stop yourself from lifting your hand to drag your fingers through his hair. “You should get up, Oberyn. A Prince on his knees for a commoner?” 

He stayed in place, lips splitting apart in a toothy grin. “There is nothing common about you.” That made you laugh, and a few seconds later he did stand, his hands sliding up your body so that both of them could cradle your jaw, tilting your head back. “And you will find that I enjoy being on my knees far more than the average man. Give it time.” 

You gasped, but it was a quick sound, Oberyn’s lips meeting yours again - and that kiss wasn’t slow or gentle. Despite the pain in your side, you melted into him, hands grasping at his shirt as he repositioned both of his to hold you even closer. 

With his hands on your body and mouth on yours, it was easy to forget what was coming and what would change once you arrived in Dorne. And though you knew it would only make things harder for you, you let yourself forget - let yourself kiss him back, one hand slipping under the deep neckline of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. 

Oberyn only broke the kiss long enough to breathe and then he resumed it, urging you to draw his full lower lip between yours as he turned both of you toward the bed, the groan he let out when your lips turned into teeth dragging over that same lip long and low. 

You wondered what other sounds he made, and what sounds he’d be able to pull from you, but before you could get lost in those thoughts, he let you go, whispering your name. “Someone is feeling adventurous tonight.” You inhaled deeply, lips parted as you looked at him. I got carried away. “I wish I could let you continue.” 

“I understand.” You let out your breath, closing your eyes. “Oberyn, I’m -”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He laughed, the hand on your hip tightening. “We should get some rest, though.Tomorrow will be a long day.” He was right, and when you moved away from him to sit on the edge of the bed to remove your boots, he began to undress, too. 

You watched him - eyed his movements in the low light, the candles casting a warm glow across his skin once he removed his shirt. His pants hung low on his hips, and when he loosened them, they dropped even lower, exposing more of his lower back. He was teasing you - tempting you, and though in the coming days, you figured the memory of his bare body would make waiting harder, you were thankful. 

You climbed into the bed first, rolling onto your uninjured side and waiting until Oberyn had joined you to speak. “Will I be watched while you’re doing whatever it is that you need to do, Oberyn?” He smiled, inching closer and carefully draping an arm over your side. “I’ve never been in a castle before, and I don’t know what to expect.” 

“My words will never do it justice,” he started, moving his hand up your arm slowly. “I can tell you that it is beautiful. I can tell you what I love about it and why, but until you see it? Until you’re there? You will never understand.” His fingers danced over your skin, the tips of them dragging along the curve of your neck before he flipped his hand over and trailed his knuckles over your jaw and then up and over your cheek. “You will only be watched if you wish to be.” 

“What does that mean?” You yawned, turning your face toward the pillow and closing your eyes. “If I wish to be?” 

“There are many people employed by House Martell in Sunspear.They attend to our needs - whatever they might be. And as my guest, someone will attend to you, too.” What? “I have a confession to make.” That got your attention, but it took a few seconds for Oberyn to continue. “I have been away from home for so long that I am … worried about what will happen when I’m back in Sunspear.” 

That admission - moreso than anything else he’d said or promised - convinced you that Oberyn truly trusted you and cared for you. You had a feeling that there were very few people who ever saw the vulnerable side of the Red Viper, and even though it would have been a great tactic to use to win you over, you were certain that he wasn’t trying to do that. He’s admitting something to me that he won’t tell anyone else. 

“What are you worried about?” He wet his lips and then squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sure they won’t expect you to -” 

“As Daavos I was free to live my life however I wanted to.” He sighed. “And in Dorne, it is much the same, but with Doran’s health, I … I’m worried that I’ll be asked to immediately return to politics and be much more involved than before. I have so much to catch up on, and I don’t want to fail after I’ve already asked so much of them.” 

“Oberyn, they’re going to give you time to adjust to being home.” You stroked his beard, shaking your head. “They have to. All of the news you’ve gotten has been secondhand or delayed. I don’t know your family, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Leaning closer, you rested your forehead against his. “They’ll give you time. They need you. And they need you at your best.” 

His uncertainty should have shattered your image of him. Coming from anyone else, it would have diminished his reputation - put doubt into your mind about just how intimidating he was, or what he was capable of. But it doesn’t. It makes me … respect him more. 

“You barely know me and you have so much faith in me. Why?” 

“Because you’re the Red Viper of Dorne.” Backing away to meet his eyes, you said his name. “Because you fought a mountain of a man to avenge your family and walked away from a fight that no one thought you’d survive…and you did it twice.” His eyes flashed and you continued. “Because you pulled me from the Narrow Sea and helped me when you had no real reason to.”  And you’re still helping me. “You haven’t given me a reason to doubt you.”

“I lied to you. I let you think I -”

“Your name and status were a lie, but everything else was the truth.” Smiling, you shrugged. “I hope, anyway.” 

“It was. It is.” He shifted closer, one of his legs rising from the bed and bending at the knee before it settled over yours. “I told you everything about myself without revealing who I was, and all of that was true.” 

“Then let yourself enjoy going home. Your family has been waiting for two years. Ellaria has been waiting for you for two years. And I’m sure she’s going to tell you the same thing I am right now.” 

“She will.” He smiled, eyes drifting closed. “The two of you together …. I’m in trouble.” 

You wondered what he meant by that. Was it possible that he thought that you and Ellaria would become friends? Did he want that to happen? And if he does, why? You’d known that Wyllam had been with other women before you. You’d understood that some of them were from Braavos, but you’d never entertained the thought of friendship with them. Even if I knew who they were, I don’t think … 

But Oberyn and Ellaria were a different story - and their relationship was also different. You weren’t naive enough to believe that spending time with Oberyn in Dorne would be time spent between just the two of you, but you’d never actually considered that he’d want you to get to know Ellaria, too. Or if she’ll want to get to know me. 

“Oberyn?” He opened his eyes, waiting to see what you’d say. “I’m … sorry that I’ve been the way I am about… where I fit in with you and in Dorne. All of this is a surprise to me, and finding out that you’re who you are only complicates it more.” 

“It is a lot to take in.” His hand moved back down your body and came to rest just below where you were injured. “I just ask you to give it a chance before you decide that you can or cannot be a part of it.” 

It was a reasonable request. And despite the way you felt about him, and the fact that you’d never dreamed of possibly sharing a man’s attention long term with others before, the truth was that you didn’t know what would be more difficult for you: only having Oberyn in your life in a small way, or not having him there at all. 

“Sleep now. You’ve had a busy day.” He leaned in, taking a short breath before brushing his lips against yours. “And tomorrow will be even busier.” 

He was right. Even though you knew your day would be less demanding than his, it was still going to be a change from the life on the ship that you’d gotten used to over the previous weeks. “Goodnight, Oberyn.” You whispered the words, inching even closer to him so that you could tuck yourself against his chest, forehead resting against the top of his shoulder. 

You didn’t know what was going to happen once you got to Dorne. There was no way to predict what you’d feel - or what Oberyn or Ellaria would feel - once you were on land and everyone had settled in. 

But you did know that if it was the last night you’d get to fall asleep next to Oberyn, you were certainly going to make the most of it. 

— 

When you woke up the following morning, he was still in bed - but his eyes were open, and he was staring at you. He looks tired. He shouldn’t, because - “Oberyn, did you sleep?”

“No.” He blinked, chuckling. “I couldn’t.” 

“Too excited?” His laugh got louder, Oberyn’s eyes closing to show off the crow’s feet at the corners. “I didn’t think it was funny, Prince Oberyn, so -”

“I am excited. But like I said, this ship? It has been home for a long while, and I will miss it.” He let out a breath and then said your name. “And I will miss these last weeks with you, too.” His words hit you hard, but you were quick to speak, rushing your own reply out before you could give yourself too long to think about what they meant. 

“As soon as you set foot on Dornish soil, none of this will matter.” Backing away, you took a deep breath. “All you’ll feel is excitement to be back home and with the people you love.” It was easier that way - to set expectations for him, but also for yourself. “You won’t have time to miss this.” You gestured to the room with one hand, smiling at him. “And speaking of that, I wonder how close we are. I should get up and get dressed, and -”

“We have time.” Oberyn leaned in, kissing your forehead. “Plenty of it.” 

“I think that’s the first actual lie you’ve told me.” Both of you laughed, and you let yourself enjoy the closeness with him for a few moments longer before sitting up, careful of your bandaged side. “I need to get into the dress Nymeria and I chose, and it might take me a while. It’s not as straightforward as Braavosi attire.” 

“I can stay and help.” He propped himself up on one elbow, arching a brow. “I am very skilled with -”

“I need to put it on, Oberyn, not take it off.” That made him laugh again, but instead of arguing with you, he sat upright and then stood, stretching before he began the process of tightening his pants and putting his boots back on. “Should … I come to the top deck once I’m dressed? Should I bring my things? I -”

“You can leave everything.” He turned to look at you over his shoulder, nodding. “Pack it together, and someone will bring it to your room later. It will be safe here, you have my word.” Thanking him, you looked up at where he stood, watching as Oberyn turned to face you again. “But yes. Get dressed. Find something to eat. I’ll be topside. My daughters will, too.” 

He didn’t say anything else before he left the room, your eyes following him until the door shut and obscured him from view. It was a strange goodbye, and unlike any of the others he’d given you, but you figured he was just distracted by the fact that he was so close to home after so long. 

As you got out of bed and carefully packed all of your things into a small satchel, you wondered if he was beginning the process of distancing himself from you in preparation for reuniting with his family. You hoped he wasn’t. You hoped that he wouldn’t. It is a possibility, though, even if it’s temporary. 

It didn’t take as long as you expected to redress yourself in what you’d chosen. Once you got the straps and ties situated properly, you let out a slow breath. More of you was exposed than you were used to, but you still felt good in it, the soft material flowing over your skin in a way that your other attire hadn’t. You wondered if you’d have the opportunity to choose more clothing in Dorne, or if the outfit was a one time thing, meant only to impress Prince Doran and the royal council upon your first meeting. I have coin. I could probably buy … Looking down, you smoothed your hands over the fabric, smiling at the way it felt against your palms. Hmm. 

You hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes to go with it, though. So before you headed to the galley to find something to eat, you went back to the room that you and Nymeria had visited and opened a trunk, digging through it. You ended up with a comfortable pair of slippers in gold, sliding your feet into them and wiggling your toes at the freedom they afforded you. I could get used to this. 

With one last look at your boots, you bit your lip and turned away from them, heading for the door.

You were hungry but too anxious to eat anything substantial, and after grabbing a stonefruit, you headed up to the main deck, stepping out and into the sunshine. Tilting your face upward, you inhaled deeply, eyes closed. 

He’d told you that you’d still be able to hear the sea from your room in the castle, but you wondered if you’d be able to smell it, too. I’ll ask him. I - Your mind went blank as you opened your eyes and saw that the largest sail had been replaced with a new one, the Martell sigil in the center of it and unmistakably visible. 

Your heart raced at the sight, and you moved one hand to cover it, pressing your palm against your chest as you stared upward. It’s really happening. He’s going home, and he’s making an entrance. Blinking twice, you lowered your eyes and scanned the deck, looking for more changes. 

Some of the crew were wearing armor, their chests and shoulders covered in what looked like reinforced leather pieces. Others had changed from the attire you’d grown accustomed to into more flowing garments, though there were a few that had kept the casual dress that you and Oberyn had also adopted. 

You saw Obara and Nymeria first, both of them leaning against the railing on the deck up and near the wheel, their backs toward you. He can’t be far. There was a flash of yellow to your right, and when you turned to look and see what it was, you gasped, mouth hanging open. Oberyn. 

He’d changed clothes, too, and you recognized the new ones immediately. The yellow coat from the wardrobe. He strode toward you, arms swinging by his sides, and all you could do was stare. The coat reached mid-calf, and was held closed by a belt that sat low on his waist. His chest was still bared, the tanned skin visible between the panels of golden material and the slightly darker underlayer. 

But what was completely new was the thick golden chain and large pendant he wore around his neck, the metal glinting in the sunlight. You realized that the formal dress was for show, and while you understood why he’d opted to wear it as you sailed back into Dorne, you wondered what Oberyn preferred. He looks comfortable. He looks… like a prince. 

He’d wet his hair down, too, combing through the tousled curls and then pushing them away from his face, but one of them wasn’t behaving like the others. Instead, it had caught the wind and was hanging over his forehead, reminding you that even though he was dressed differently, he was still the Oberyn you’d met weeks earlier. I wonder if he’ll keep it long once we dock. I wonder if he’ll shave his face, or - 

“Dornish clothing suits you.” He stopped just in front of you, eyes moving up and down the entire length of your body. “You chose well.” 

“Nymeria helped.” You used one hand to adjust your skirt. “I think she pulled this one out because it …” You eyed his robe from up close, breath catching in your throat. Oh, Nymeria. What were you thinking? The stitching on your dress matched what was on his robe - the golden threads woven into sun shapes that were broken up by tiny spears. “It matches. Oberyn, I didn’t mean to -”

“Do not apologize.” He reached for your hand, fingers curling around yours when you took it. “I would have chosen the same one for you.” His smile widened. “Come. There is something I want to show you.” 

You let him lead you up to where Nymeria and Obara stood, both of them giving you quick glances before they turned their attention back toward the horizon. Oberyn stepped behind you as you gripped the railing with both hands, his chest flush with your back. He lifted one arm and used his finger to point ahead of you. 

It took you a few seconds to see what he was focused on, and when you did, you felt your heart skip and tears well up in your eyes, even as he used his free hand to pull you backwards and toward him, his fingers splayed over your stomach.  

“There.” He rasped the word into your ear, his voice thick. “That is Dorne. We’re almost home.” 

—  

[canmom]

Where do you read and find web comics?

that's a great question!

these days the scene is kinda dominated by platforms like webtoon and tapas, which heavily favour vertical-scrolling infinite canvas formats. these environments are aggressively competitive, and getting to the top of the popularity pile requires a pace of work that makes even the manga industry look downright reasonable. I wrote a little about one such comic back in 2022. the 'portal' format applies similar pressures as webnovel sites - somehow that's come down to favouring high-concept premises which can be spelled out in a title, and a fairly homogeneous art style. in general you'll see a lot of romance and isekai.

that said, traditional page-formatted webcomics are absolutely still around. usually I read them on their websites - you can use an RSS reader to keep up with updates for most comics, but I fell out of the habit of that years ago.

as far as finding them, there's not really any centralised place to find them, but often webcomics will promote other authors, and there's organisations like hiveworks which serve to cross-promote members of their network. most webcomics have a 'links' page. it's rhizomatic or some shit.

if you are coming back to webcomics, 'I used to read this comic, is it still going' can also lead to a lot of pleasant surprises - you wouldn't believe the number of webcomic authors who turn out to have transed their gender when you come back a few years later (or maybe you would). 'spend years writing a comic instead of transitioning' is a strangely common pitfall [edit: though I'm not sure 'spend years transitioning instead of making a big creative project' is like. a better strategy lmao. they're both big expressions of agency, it doesn't really matter what order you do em.]

some authors tend to stay on a single perpetual epic that will likely last until they die, but others like to write multiple projects, and usually if you enjoy one thing by a person you'll enjoy the others. for example, @bigbigtruck wrote the excellent The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal back in the day, and is presently writing a story about stormchasers with a very similar vibe. Evan Dahm of Rice Boy went on to write some rather cool comics like Vattu.

webcomics review blogs can also be a good place to pick up recs. yes homo, now defunct, put a few things on my radar (I disagree with many of their opinions but that's part of the fun of it lol), as has thewebcomicsreview.

along similar lines, forums can be a good place to look - back in the old old days, I used to be a big fan of a D&D comic called The Order of the Stick and hang out on its forums a lot, and they had a pretty active board for talking about other webcomics (a large part of which was devoted to literally hundreds of threads for the club of posters making fun of a really mid comic called Dominic Deegan: Oracle for Hire - don't ask me to explain that...) these days I bet there are webcomics discords that function similarly, though I couldn't tell you which ones off the top of my head.

if you're willing to part with a little bit of money, events like the Shortbox Comics Fair are a good way to gather a huge stack of one-shots. I picked up a bunch in the last one of those, I should really write about them.

honestly I should really just draw up a list of comics I've liked, catch up on the ones that I fell off the update schedule on, and put that list on my website somewhere. writing full reviews is fun but time-consuming and I don't want to make promises with how incredibly ADHD I am (the 'comics comints' series lasted a mighty three posts, and of all the writing-about-stuff projects, the main ones I'm trying to get going again are the tftbn and umineko liveblogs), but it is happy-making to spread the word about good shit I've read. I used to liveblog webcomics quite a bit, you can see some of them over here. (I never got around to migrating the Homestuck sideblog.)

ultimately, word of mouth is queen here. all these suggestions are just different flavours of "find people who like the sorts of things you like and read the stuff they like" in the end!

[sleepykye]

Is it okay if I request Tamaki x reader who's an American stormchaser and chased the Greensburg Iowa tornado?

Love in The Eye of A Storm

Of course, it is okay, bubs 😼

Tamaki Amajiki always thought his life at U.A. High School was eventful enough, but today promised something different. An American storm chaser, renowned for chasing the Greensburg, Kansas tornado, was coming to give a lecture. While most of his classmates were excited about the science, Tamaki was more intrigued by the daring personality behind the chase.

You had been invited to speak about your experiences, and as you set up your presentation, you couldn't help but notice the shy boy standing awkwardly at the back of the room, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but also oddly captivated.

"Hi everyone! I’m (Y/N), and I’ve been chasing storms for about five years now. Today, I’m going to share some of my craziest adventures, including the Greensburg tornado," you began, flashing a bright smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

As you showed footage of monstrous tornadoes tearing through the countryside, the students gasped and whispered to each other. Tamaki, however, was completely silent, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe.

"During the Greensburg tornado, we had to drive like maniacs to stay ahead of the storm. My colleague almost spilled coffee on my lap while trying to read the radar—definitely not our finest moment!" you joked, earning a round of laughter from the class. Even Tamaki cracked a small smile.

After the lecture, as students swarmed around you with questions, Tamaki lingered at the back, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Finally, when the crowd thinned out, he mustered the courage to approach you.

"E-excuse me," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I wanted to ask you something."

You turned to him with a warm smile. "Sure! What's on your mind?"

"I’m really interested in how you manage to get so close to such dangerous storms. Aren’t you afraid?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You chuckled softly, your eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Of course, there's fear. But the science and the thrill of understanding these powerful natural events drive me. The Greensburg tornado was one of the most intense experiences of my life. It was terrifying but also awe-inspiring."

Tamaki nodded, clearly fascinated. "I can’t imagine being that brave. I-I have a hard time even speaking up sometimes."

You stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Bravery comes in many forms, Tamaki. Facing your fears, no matter what they are, is an act of courage. And trust me, I’m sure you’re braver than you think."

Your touch sent a warm shiver through him, and he found himself relaxing slightly. “Th-thank you. I just… I wanted to say I really admire what you do. It’s incredible.”

Blushing slightly, you looked at him with genuine appreciation. “That means a lot coming from someone as kind as you. Maybe we can talk more about it sometime? I’d love to hear more about your experiences too.”

Tamaki’s heart raced at the thought. “I’d like that,” he said softly, a shy smile forming on his lips.

A week later, you and Tamaki found yourselves sitting in a cozy café, sipping on coffee and sharing stories. You talked animatedly about your storm-chasing adventures, while Tamaki listened intently, occasionally sharing his own tales of hero training.

"And then, my friend accidentally got her shoe stuck in the mud while we were trying to escape a hailstorm. It was like a scene out of a slapstick comedy!" you laughed, making Tamaki chuckle.

"You’re really amazing, (Y/N). I-I don’t think I could ever do what you do," Tamaki said, his voice filled with admiration.

"Hey, don't sell yourself short! You face villains and save lives every day. That’s pretty amazing too," you replied, giving him a playful nudge.

As the evening progressed, the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourselves growing more comfortable around each other. Eventually, you both decided to take a walk through a nearby park, the evening air cool and refreshing.

"You know," you began, looking up at the stars. "There’s something incredibly romantic about the calm after a storm. It’s like nature’s way of saying everything’s going to be alright."

Tamaki glanced at you, his cheeks flushing. "I-I guess you’re right. It’s... beautiful."

Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you stopped and turned to face him. "Tamaki, I’m really glad we got to know each other. You’ve shown me a different kind of bravery, and I... I really like you."

Tamaki’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart pounding in his chest. "I-I like you too, (Y/N). More than I can put into words."

Before either of you could second-guess yourselves, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, serene moment.

When you finally pulled back, you both smiled, your foreheads resting together. "Maybe we can chase some storms together someday," you whispered, your eyes sparkling.

"I-I’d like that," Tamaki replied, his voice filled with happiness and hope.

As you walked hand in hand through the park, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of a thrilling and beautiful adventure, one you were excited to embark on together.

[sylviesparks]

HI! You can call me Ashi or Sylvie, I don't mind which!!

>I'm a digital artist, character designer, and storywriter who's always full of ideas!

>My main projects currently are:

THE BAT'S BELFRY: A fantasy/coming-of-age webcomic that follows the story of Margot Lilycrowe, a student attending The Donahue Institute for Sciences and Magic, who must navigate new friendships and experiences all while trying to save her entire realm from impending forces with friends and allies by her side. (2.5 years in development as of writing!)

KAZOO AND YOU: A horror/dark comedy project surrounding the mystery of the colorful puppet cast of Kazoo (With O'Malley and Lou), a late '70s television program that's been pushed into obscurity after its cancellation. Now nothing but alleged lost episodes, discarded merchandise, a long-abandoned and small theme park and a dusty, decrepit studio behind barbed wire and ivy, many are convinced that Kazoo may have a much bigger mystery lying deep beneath its surface of colorful characters and silly songs, but of course, it's all the mere speculation of a bunch of wannabe detectives and horror fanatics. Right…? (Nearly 2 years in development as of writing!)

HELLCHASER: A story blog that takes the reader along with fallen angel Azra Stormchaser as he tries to navigate his way out of the underworld Styx using the reluctant but powerful assistance and gifts from the 7 Pillars- Wrath, Pride, Greed, Envy, Sloth, Lust, and Gluttony, in order to find and expose the truth about Heaven, and hopefully stop the apocalypse in its tracks. (Nearly 2 years in development as of writing!) >That's about it!!! I hope you like what I've got to share, and thank you to all who've stuck around all this time to see what I've got in store!! ♥♥

[brilla-brilla-estrellita]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @cutestkilla and @ileadacharmedlife! I've got some ramblings for you today, and, yes, a bit of a WIP.

As some of you have already heard, I've been trying some new meds which left me incredibly sleep deprived over the last two weeks (not to worry-- I've stopped taking those for the time being). On top of that, I sprained my ankle just in time to go on a very active, high-energy trip. In a surprising turn of events, my sleep deprivation did wonders for my creativity, and I made a lot of progress on a new WIP. I didn't finish any existing ones, of course. That would be ridiculous.

I'm both very excited and incredibly nervous about this fic. It features an OC that is Deaf, and I am not a member of the Deaf community. I have been taking ASL classes on and off for 3 years, and while that has certainly served as an inspiration for this character, it by no means makes me an authority on anything Deaf.

While I believe we shouldn't all limit ourselves to writing only characters we "know" (which leads to many an all-white cisgender heteronormative ableist etc etc story), I also don't want to fuck it up. So I will be doing a lot of research and examining internalized biases and stereotypical tropes as I plan and write to make sure I'm treating this character and story fairly. I will definitely be looking for sensitivity readers throughout the process as well, so if anyone is interested in helping me out with that please hit me up (tumblr and discord DMs open).

I could use some encouragement, support, advice, or, if you feel that I am making a terrible mistake, a reality check.

Ok, now to the WIP. There's a little more to this than just being a Stormchaser fic... I don't think it's hard to guess, so you might pick it up just from this. I had a really hard time picking which snippet to use.

Penny POV

His smile falters. “I hoped you’d be excited for me. It’s an opportunity to help students learn and connect. I thought you were all about education.” “Oh, don’t give me that,” I sigh. “Of course I’m all for education, and yes, that does sound like a perfect opportunity for you. But… you’ll be leaving us here for an entire year. We’ve never been without you for that long.” “Well…” he gives a nervous laugh, a sure sign that his next words are going to make me want to strangle him. “I may have volunteered Delilah for their foreign exchange pilot program.” Yep, that’s it. “Crowley, Shepard! I told you you can’t go around sacrificing our child for experiments! Just because I've gotten you out of impossible situations doesn’t mean I’ll always be able to!” “I didn’t sacrifice her, jeez! It’s just an exchange program, and I’ll be there! Give me a little credit. Even Watford has an exchange program.” His eyebrows scrunch together. “And I thought we weren’t supposed to say ‘Crowley’ because it’s–” “Problematic, yes,” I cut him off. “But you are being problematic, Shepard. We can’t send our daughter to school in America. To a creature school. Anyone could be there!”

Thanks for reading my very long post! Tagging @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @agni-ashes @onepintobean @thewholelemon @shrekgogurt @raenestee @skeedelvee @technetiumai @iamamythologicalcreature

[zepskies]

Hey Zep!! I love your BMD series!

I've got a question regarding Vought Rising. Stormchaser is obviously a hella racist character, and Eric Kripke said Soldier Boy embodied toxic masculinity of that time, including misogyny and racism.

What are your thoughts about two leads of the show being very modern problematic characters? Like everyone loves Soldier Boy, myself included, but he's a very toxic character.

Sorry for the long question!!

Hey there! Thank you! 💚

I got a similar question on this yesterday, so it seems to be on people's minds. Admittedly, it's one of the first things I thought about when the news about Vought Rising hit, after my excitement wore off. 😅

Stormfront and Soldier Boy are both toxic characters, in similar but very different ways, I think.

The main difference is that Stormfront isn't just problematic. She's downright evil -- a violent, sick, racist, Nazi. She's an insidious villain, but now that we know what she is, it'll be interesting to see in Vought Rising how her character plots and navigates Vought's early framework. (And how she’s probably going to toy with Soldier Boy without him knowing lol.)

For Soldier Boy, he is a narcissist, and a misogynist asshole with a violent mean streak. (In this post I explained why I don't see his violent actions as being racially motivated, necessarily.)

And yet, after I watched season 3, there was still a small window of potential "redeemability" with him that drove me to write Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader). To see how this very flawed, complex character, if broken down enough (pun intended), could be redeemed while still hopefully retaining the essence of the character.

For me, writing BMD started out an interesting writing challenge that allowed me to fill in my own mental gaps with Soldier Boy’s past and characterization, and figure out how to humanize him more in hopefully a plausible way.

Season 5 of the Boys and Vought Rising could fill in those big gaps in his past vs. who he is now in canon, post his captivity in Russia. In the process, it could serve to humanize him, and/or frame him in an even worse light.

But until then, I'm going to work off what we have so far of his character and what I've interpreted of him.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Spoiled

pairing: tyler owen’s x f! rich girlfriend reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

Tyler stepped into the luxurious penthouse, his body aching from a day of chasing storms. The adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he called out, "Y/N? Baby, I'm home."

Y/N sauntered into view, a vision in black lace and silk. Her curves were accentuated by the exquisite Chanel lingerie Tyler had gifted her. With a coy smile, she approached him, her hips swaying hypnotically.

"About time you showed up, storm boy," she purred, her tone playfully sassy. "I was beginning to think you'd rather cuddle with a tornado than me."

Tyler's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled her close. "Watch that mouth, princess. You know I always come back to you."

His strong hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off him, his muscles taut beneath his stormchasing gear. She ran her manicured nails down his chest, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Owens?" she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper.

Tyler's response was swift and decisive. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off her feet, eliciting a surprised gasp from Y/N. He carried her to their kingsized bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin as he laid her down.

"I think it's time I reminded you exactly who you belong to, princess," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

With a predatory smile, Tyler began trailing kisses down Y/N's neck, his stubble grazing her soft skin. His hands roamed her curves, savoring the feeling of the expensive lingerie beneath his fingertips. Y/N arched into his touch, her breath quickening with anticipation.

"Tyler," she whimpered, her earlier sassiness melting away under his ministrations.

He paused, looking up at her with dark, hungry eyes. "Yes, princess? What do you want?"

Y/N bit her lip, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I want... I want you to taste me," she whispered.

Tyler's grin widened. "As you wish."

He slowly made his way down her body, leaving a trail of heated kisses in his wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his hot breath fanning over her most sensitive area. Y/N squirmed, desperate for his touch.

"Remember, baby girl," Tyler murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're mine. All mine."

With that, he dove in, his tongue exploring every fold and crevice of her intimate area. Y/N's back arched off the bed, a loud moan escaping her lips as pleasure coursed through her body.

Tyler's skilled tongue worked its magic, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against Y/N's most sensitive spot. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Oh god, Tyler!" she cried out, her body trembling with each expert stroke of his tongue.

Tyler hummed against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body. He gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he continued his relentless assault on her senses.

Y/N's back arched off the bed, her toes curling as she felt the familiar tension building in her core. She was close, so close...

"That's it, princess," Tyler murmured against her slick folds. "Come for me. Show me who you belong to."

With a final swirl of his tongue, Y/N shattered, crying out Tyler's name as her orgasm crashed over her. Tyler continued his ministrations, guiding her through the waves of pleasure until she collapsed back onto the bed, panting and trembling.

Tyler slowly crawled up Y/N's body, his eyes dark with desire as he took in her flushed cheeks and heaving chest. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his gaze.

"You're so beautiful when you come undone for me, princess," he murmured, his voice husky.

Y/N's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she reached up to cup Tyler's face. "Only for you, storm chaser," she purred, her earlier sassiness returning. "Now, are you going to fuck me senseless or what?"

Tyler's eyes flashed with hunger at her challenge. "Oh, you asked for it, baby girl," he growled, positioning himself between her thighs.

With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, causing Y/N to cry out in pleasure. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping against hers as he drove into her again and again.

Y/N's nails raked down Tyler's back as she met him thrust for thrust, her body arching off the bed to take him deeper. The room filled with the sounds of their passion skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, and whispered endearments. "Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," Tyler groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. He gripped her hips tightly, angling them to hit that sweet spot inside her with each powerful thrust.

Y/N's head pressed back into the silk pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent scream of ecstasy. "Tyler... oh god, Tyler!" she cried out, her body trembling beneath him.

"That's right, princess," Tyler growled, his pace never faltering. "Tell me who you belong to. Who makes you feel this good?"

"You, Tyler! Only you!" Y/N gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Tyler's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "That's my good girl," he praised, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

The intensity of their passionate encounter continued to build as Tyler and Y/N moved together in perfect synchronicity. Tyler's strong hands gripped Y/N's hips, guiding her movements as she writhed beneath him. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking and the sound of their breathless moans.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Tyler's hair, pulling him closer as she felt the familiar tension coiling in her core. "Tyler, I'm so close," she whimpered against his lips, her body trembling with every thrust.

Tyler's eyes locked onto hers, dark with desire and something deeper. "Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a few more perfectly angled thrusts, Y/N shattered, crying out Tyler's name as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her inner walls clenched around him, pulling Tyler over the edge with her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning her name as he spilled himself deep inside her.

For a moment, they lay there, tangled together and panting heavily. Tyler pressed gentle kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone, murmuring words of love and adoration. Y/N's fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, her body still humming with residual pleasure.

As they basked in the afterglow, Tyler gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and adoration. Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and satisfaction.

"Not so bad yourself, storm chaser," she teased, tracing her fingers along his jawline. "But don't let it go to your head."

Tyler chuckled, pulling her closer. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sighed. "As much as I'd love to stay here all night, we've got your father's CEO banquet to attend."

Y/N groaned, burying her face in Tyler's chest. "Do we have to?" she whined, her voice muffled against his skin.

Tyler kissed the top of her head. "You know we do, baby. Come on, let's get ready."

With reluctance, they disentangled themselves from each other and the silk sheets. Y/N sauntered to her walkin closet, her hips swaying enticingly. Tyler watched her go, a smirk playing on his lips as he admired the view.

Y/N emerged from her closet, a vision in a long, formfitting gown that hugged her curves perfectly. The dress shimmered under the soft lighting, accentuating her flawless skin. Underneath, she wore another set of exquisite lingerie, a secret known only to her and Tyler.

As she approached Tyler, who was now dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, she felt a delicious warmth between her thighs a reminder of their passionate encounter still lingering inside her.

"Ready to go, handsome?" Y/N purred, her eyes raking appreciatively over Tyler's form.

Tyler's gaze darkened as he took in Y/N's appearance. "You look absolutely stunning," he murmured, pulling her close for a deep, possessive kiss. "Let's show them who the real power couple is."

Hand in hand, they made their way to the elevator, both acutely aware of the intimate secret they shared beneath their glamorous exterior. As the doors closed, Tyler leaned in to whisper in Y/N's ear, "Remember, princess, you're all mine even at this fancy banquet."

Y/N shivered with anticipation, knowing the night was far from over.

As the elevator descended, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. She glanced at Tyler, admiring how handsome he looked in his tailored suit. His strong jaw was set with determination, eyes focused ahead as if preparing for battle.

"Nervous?" Tyler asked, catching her gaze.

Y/N smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Me? Never. Just wondering how long we'll have to stay before we can sneak out."

Tyler chuckled, his hand squeezing hers gently. "Behave, princess. Your father's counting on us to make a good impression."

The elevator doors opened, revealing the opulent lobby of their building. As they stepped out, heads turned to admire the striking couple. Y/N held her head high, feeling Tyler's reassuring presence beside her.

As they made their way through the lobby, the click of Y/N's heels echoed against the marble floor. Tyler's hand rested possessively on the small of her back, guiding her towards the waiting limousine.

The chauffeur opened the door with a respectful nod. "Good evening, Ms. Y/N, Mr. Owens."

Y/N slid into the plush leather seat, her dress rustling softly. Tyler followed, his thigh pressing against hers in the intimate space. As the car pulled away from the curb, Y/N felt a delicious warmth spread through her body, acutely aware of Tyler's lingering essence inside her.

"Remember," Tyler murmured, his breath hot against her ear, "no matter what happens tonight, you're mine."

Y/N shivered, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through her veins. "Always," she whispered back, her hand finding his in the dimly lit interior of the limo.

As the limousine glided through the city streets, Y/N nestled closer to Tyler, her head resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his body and the lingering sensation of their earlier encounter sent shivers down her spine. She placed her hand on his thigh, her touch both possessive and teasing.

"So, Mr. Storm Chaser," Y/N purred, her voice low and sultry, "think you can handle a different kind of tempest tonight?"

Tyler's eyes darkened with desire as he turned to face her, his hand cupping her cheek. "Baby, I can weather any storm you throw my way," he growled softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip.

The tension between them crackled like lightning, the air heavy with unspoken promises. As the limo approached their destination, Y/N straightened up, smoothing out her dress and checking her reflection in a compact mirror.

"Ready to dazzle them, princess?" Tyler asked, his voice a mix of pride and excitement

“With you by my side, I’m always ready.” y/n said

As Tyler made his way to the bar to fetch drinks, Y/N stood elegantly by a pillar, her eyes scanning the opulent ballroom. Suddenly, a suave gentleman approached her with a charming smile.

"Excuse me, miss. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Might I have the pleasure of your name?" he asked smoothly.

Y/N offered a polite but distant smile. "I'm flattered, but I'm here with my boyfriend," she replied firmly.

The man persisted, leaning in closer. "Surely he wouldn't mind if we just chatted?"

Meanwhile, Tyler returned with the drinks, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the scene unfolding. A surge of possessive jealousy coursed through him as he strode purposefully towards Y/N.

Tyler's jaw clenched as he approached, his eyes fixed on the man leaning towards Y/N. Without a word, he slid his arm possessively around Y/N's waist, pulling her close.

"Everything alright here, babe?" Tyler asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N leaned into Tyler's embrace, relief washing over her. "Just fine, honey. This gentleman was just leaving."

The suave man's smile faltered as he took in Tyler's imposing presence. He nodded curtly and retreated, disappearing into the crowd.

Tyler's grip on Y/N's waist tightened. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Bathroom. Now."

Without waiting for a response, Tyler guided Y/N through the ballroom, his hand never leaving the small of her back. They slipped into a luxurious private bathroom, Tyler locking the door behind them.

Tyler's eyes blazed with jealousy and desire as he backed Y/N against the marble countertop. His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her gown.

"You're mine," he growled, his lips crashing against hers in a passionate kiss. Y/N melted into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Tyler's hands roamed Y/N's body, hiking up her dress to reveal the lacy lingerie underneath. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he took in the sight of her.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice husky with need.

Y/N complied, facing the ornate mirror above the sink. Tyler pressed against her back, his hardness evident through his suit pants. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, sending shivers through her body.

"Baby," Y/N whimpered, her hips pressing back against him.

Tyler's hands slid down Y/N's sides, gripping her hips tightly. He pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses along her sensitive skin. Y/N tilted her head, giving him better access as she moaned softly.

"Tell me who you belong to," Tyler growled against her ear, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"You, honey," Y/N gasped, her body trembling with anticipation. "Only you."

Tyler smirked, his hand sliding beneath her dress to caress her inner thigh. "That's right, princess. And don't you forget it."

In one swift motion, Tyler pushed Y/N's dress up around her waist, revealing her laceclad bottom. He groaned at the sight, his hand coming down in a sharp smack against her flesh.

Y/N yelped, her body jerking forward. "daddy, please," she whimpered, her voice thick with need.

Tyler's fingers deftly slid Y/N's lace panties to the side, exposing her wet folds. He teased her entrance, eliciting a desperate whimper from Y/N.

"What do you want, princess?" Tyler murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Y/N gripped the edge of the marble counter, her knuckles turning white. "You, Tyler. I want you inside me. Now."

With a low growl, Tyler unzipped his pants and positioned himself at her entrance. In one smooth thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, both of them groaning at the sensation.

"Fuck, princess," Tyler hissed, his hips starting to move in a relentless rhythm. "You feel so good."

Y/N bit her lip to stifle her moans, acutely aware of the party continuing just outside the bathroom door. The thrill of potentially being caught only heightened her arousal.

Tyler's pace quickened, his fingers digging into Y/N's hips as he pounded into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small space, mingling with their heavy breathing.

"Look at yourself," Tyler commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Look in the mirror and see how beautiful you are when you're falling apart for me."

Y/N raised her eyes, meeting Tyler's intense gaze in the reflection. The sight of them together, clothes disheveled and faces flushed with passion, pushed her closer to the edge.

"Tyler, I'm close," she whimpered, her inner walls clenching around him.

"Come for me, baby," Tyler growled, his thumb finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. "Show me who you belong to."

With a few more wellaimed thrusts, Y/N shattered, biting down on her lip to muffle her cry of ecstasy. Tyler followed soon after, burying his face in her neck as he spilled himself inside her.

They stood there for a moment, panting heavily, before Tyler slowly pulled out. He helped Y/N straighten her dress, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

"Ready to rejoin the party, princess?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Y/N smirked, running a hand through her tousled hair. "After you, Mr. Owens."

As Tyler and Y/N emerged from the bathroom, their faces flushed and clothes slightly disheveled, they were greeted by the vibrant atmosphere of the ongoing banquet. The grand ballroom buzzed with activity, filled with the soft clinking of champagne glasses and the murmur of conversations.

Y/N smoothed down her dress, a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced at Tyler. "Think anyone noticed our little... absence?" she whispered, her lips curving into a sly smile.

Tyler's hand found the small of her back, his touch possessive yet gentle. "Let them wonder.” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

hope you enjoy bb’s <3

[smalls2233]

I've been rereading some old overwatch fanfics recently (Stormchaser and Freediver by winterwhite specifically) and goddamn there really is something so endearing about old overwatch fics and the way they worked with the limited lore and characters at launch

the fact that they had both released in the short period of after ana was revealed (I think SC actually dropped before ana was officially in game, but she was involved in the fic so she must have been announced) and before sombra was officially revealed really puts them in this perfect little time capsule imo

we get to see a lot of theories, like angela creating reaper, hanzo having prosthetic legs, pre-ashe deadlock gang, all of that stuff that was then later squashed by canon.

one of the more frustrating things abt writing overwatch fics is that since canon is such a work in progress (seven years in we're FINALLY moving the story forward, but we still have so many unanswered questions abt the past) and so you can make theories abt things and then two weeks later have a hero release that suddenly squashes all of that

but honestly? I think it makes it fun as a reader. you get to see where fandom's mind had been at the time and see what predictions people made came true (it's fun to note that in freediver, the new overwatch recruits were lucio, zarya, mei, dva, brig, and hanzo. Only one of those hasn't joined new OW as of the PvE)

idk, I love this shit man. I wish people were still writing overwatch fics (especially mcreyes. I miss mcreyes fics man) just bc there's so much potential and it's just fun seeing what people come up with

[officialdunkindonuts]

hi again!

same anon as before here - i'm so glad my message was appreciated! it's heartbreaking that the lesser reaction to your rulhends fics was disheartening. especially in small fandoms like ours, the popularity of a ship frequently has far more bearing on online reception than the actual content or quality of a fanfic. not to hate on popular ships! i am a big on2eus fan and i love your writing for them but i assure you that your rulhends fics are fantastic too and i enjoyed them just as much if not more. i really appreciated your work on them and i'm sure i'm not the only one!

i listened to both of the songs you were contemplating for your title and while both are good and fitting imho (since you asked) 'pushing it down and praying' clicks with the current vibe of your series better. i think the tone feels far more consistent with the previous songs and naturally progresses lehends's unwritten pov from 'i'd have to think about it'. the part of that song where the beat drops is also absolutely magical. as you said the lyrics are spot-on too. it reminds me of archiveofouroner's mad scientist incorrigible fic with lehends sleeping with everyone and imagining it's ruler every time.

if you don't mind sharing do you have other ships in the fandom that you like? which ones and why? i'd love to hear your thoughts!

ahhh thank you so much and welcome back haha!! i appreciate the kind words and i'm really glad you enjoyed my on2eus fics as well — i know omegaverse isn't everyone's cup of tea, so i'm happy to hear i have some readers who were interested in both! and thank you as well for the input, i was already leaning towards pushing it down and praying, so i'll definitely be going in that direction :))

also, mad scientist incorrigible is truly such an amazing fic, one of my favorites of all time! it's an honor to even be mentioned in the same sentence as archiveofouroner haha, they really set the gold standard for rulhends and i'm trying my best to meet it with everything i write.

in the fandom, i'd say rulhends is the ship that's nearest and dearest to my heart, though i also have a MAJOR soft spot for defiko and ummo. i think my affinity for those two ships comes from the absolute treasure trove of content that exists of them being super physically and verbally affectionate with each other; i just find it SO endearing! plus the angst of deft and umti leaving their respective teams is *chef's kiss* (i will never ever get over the defiko divorce tbh).

for everything else, i don't have terribly strong opinions, i often just find myself following the irl angst. right now, that's guke/guria because there's so much to explore with the whole benching situation. in general though, i read pretty widely in the fandom, and my favorite ships tend to get influenced a lot by the fics that have resonated with me the most (all my love, mad scientist incorrigible, and stormchasers are three of my favorites), as well as what my friends in the fandom are yapping about the most in my twitter DMs (right now, that's onelk, xunchan, and pernut).

i usually don't tend to gravitate towards fics that are full-fledged AUs (though i do enjoy many of them!), because the ships that i find myself most drawn to are the ones that are grounded in at least some amount of real-world context. for example, my interest in on2eus spiked when zeus left t1, and likewise with rulhends when ruler came back to geng right as lehends left.

i feel like i also have a somewhat unique perspective in this space, insofar as i don't have any particularly strong lck/lpl allegiances. as a fan, i primarily follow lcs/ltan (much more closely than any other region), and i've also been watching lolesports since 2013 (certified unc, haha), so i've seen a LOT of players and teams come and go, across all the regions. ultimately, i think this makes me WAY less attached to individual players/teams than many other folks in the lolrpf space. hence, the ships i like the most are constantly changing, since they're usually less about who i'm personally a fan of (my current favorite player is yeon!) and more about what dynamics/tensions/situations seem the most interesting to explore through writing. plus, i haven't the faintest idea how to write fluff, so i always go for the ships that feel like they have the most potential for angst, lmaoo — as of right now, those are rulhends, ummo, and guke. the defiko era (sadly) seems over but if i ever come up with a compelling idea for them, i'd definitely write that too.

btw, if you ever want to come off anon and shoot me a message here or on twitter, you're more than welcome to! i promise i'm not scary at all, haha<3 although i'm also more than happy to keep answering via my tumblr inbox :))

[ryngzmn]

welcome to my ted talk, today I will talk about things in fanfics that make me annoyed!

when authors describe the readers color of clothing, this doesn’t necessarily bother me that much but it’s mainly the fact that authors chose like the same color every time (said color being pink)

again, this one doesn’t really bother me but I feel like authors make the reader have a skirt in the most inconvenient times. I just read a tyler owens x reader fic where the reader is a stormchaser and was wearing a skirt😭 nothing wrong w that, just seems inconvenient since you’re gonna be dealing with high and strong wind speeds and TORNADOES.

when authors describe readers physically features! small thing like moles and freckles r fine since I think most people have a little bit of freckles but when it describes the readers hair length (which has happened a lot to me while reading) throws me off bc half the time the readers hair is long while my hair is short😔

this one is a really basic once that I think most people can agree with is when authors make reader do or say something that I personally would probably never do irl💔

anyways that’s it, thank you for coming to my ted talk