“ no don’t move, it’s too cold outside the covers.” + high school Carmy
"no don't move, it's too cold outside the covers" from these morning after prompts
contents; high school carmy being cute!!
part of my 1.8k sleepover <33
your first sleepover with a boyfriend. it was a big deal to you, at least. didn't seem like much to your parents. they'd said yes immediately, with the one condition you slept with your door open. you decided you were fine with that, neither you nor carmen was very interested in sex at the moment. your relationship was still new, though you'd known each other forever.
you start to roll over, moving towards your lamp to switch it off as the credits roll on the movie you two were watching in your bed. "no, don' move," carmy pouts, snuggled up in your fluffy comforter. the pastel color looks cute against his curls, the sharp line of his nose, and his pretty pink cheeks. "'s too cold outside the covers," he complains."
you laugh sweetly, reaching a little further to turn out the lamp before turning back to carmy. he pulls you into his arms easily, cheek resting on top of your head. "better?" you ask softly.
"mm, much better," carmy responds. he kisses the top of your head once, arms tightening around your frame. "'s'much warmer with y'u here," his voice is soft and sleepy, and you smile as you rest your head on his chest.
Prompt: you're caught in the middle of a tornado, tyler's there in the aftermath.
Word count: 6k
Warnings: angst, blood mention
A/N: surprise surprise, & not what i usually write, but twisters has recently been consuming my entire life. so here's an angsty lil imagine of hurt reader being comforted by the wrangler himself.
You made it about fifteen minutes down the road before you realized that you’d forgotten your phone… Again.
After patting down your pockets and digging through your tote bag the best you could without crashing the car– you straightened yourself in the driver’s seat and sighed defeatedly.
Stupid, you thought. Although you weren’t really that surprised by your mistake. You’d never been particularly attached to your phone, and this certainly wasn’t the first time you’d left it behind.
But you’d been trying to be more mindful about remembering it. And just like that, Tyler’s voice popped into your head– no doubt scolding you for your carelessness. ‘What if something happened and I had to get a hold of ya?’
Thanks to another wild storm system brewing all over the midwest, Tyler was out chasing again today. And although you’d checked in on him earlier in the day, you knew there was always the possibility that things changed. Storms shifted– gained power, sometimes his team (although rarely) got things wrong. A pang of guilt spread through your chest at the thought– what if something happened to him out there and he needed to reach you?
You could turn back and get your phone, of course. But you were already so close to town. And all you needed was a bottle of shampoo and a birthday cake for Tyler. You could be in and out of Lawton in less than half an hour if you were quick– home before he even knew you’d left your phone behind again.
What could really go wrong?
…
“Talk to me, Dani– what do you see?” Tyler asked into the walkie. They’d been tracking a handful of storms for the past few hours– Tyler watching the clouds, and Dani studying the radar. Right now, there were two that had peaked his interest– One was formulating south, the other to the northeast.
“The storm south has higher wind speeds, but I think it’ll fade if it shifts. The other one has a weaker wind shear, but higher pressure. Either one has the chance to form or go, so I say trust your gut,” they answered.
Tyler shifted his grip on the steering wheel, studying the dark, circling motion in the distance.
“What’re you thinkin’, T?” Boone asked, camera trained on Tyler.
He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip– trying to focus.
“Less moisture, less potential for an updraft, but way higher winds if we go south. Northeast though… she’s already got the motion and momentum, she just needs the winds to shift...”
Boone stayed quiet– he knew that when Tyler talked out loud, it was generally rhetorical.
Tyler took his eyes off the sky to study the world around him for a moment.
“No pressure, T,” Dani said through the walkie.
“Yeah,” Lilly chimed in. “We just spent all damn day chasing these things–”
“South,” he said suddenly. “I say let’s chase south.”
…
Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was standing in the middle of a wheat field with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.
The storm had fizzled with the shifting winds, leaving them with nothing but a few scattered showers that mixed in with the sweat already pooling on his skin.
“S’alright, T,” Boone said encouragingly with a shrug. He clapped him on the back. “We can’t catch ‘em all.”
Tyler sighed before joining Dani where they sat on the edge of the truck, scanning for other potential storms in the area.
“What’s that there?” Tyler asked, pointing to what appeared to be a storm system heading west.
Dani frowned. “What the hell… I think that’s the storm from earlier– the one moving northeast.”
“So it shifted?”
“Shifted?” Boone said, lowering his camera for a moment to glance towards Tyler. “Where to? Can we make it in time?”
Tyler frowned, studying the movement.
“That’s strange,” Dani mumbled under their breath. With a few clicks, they expanded the screen, showing a wider radius.
“What’s strange?” Boone asked.
Ignoring him, Tyler scanned the system, trying to trace the path without actually calculating it. “You don’t think–”
Dani glanced his way. “Holy shit–”
“Hello?” Boone said. “Y’all gonna share with the rest of the class?”
“I think she’s headin’ for Lawton,” Dani finally whispered.
And although he’d been thinking it, all the color drained from his face when it was actually spoken out loud.
“Lawton?” Dexter asked, voice laced with concern.
“Oh shit-” Lilly whispered.
Lawton was the closest city to where the two of you lived– if it hit there, thousands of people could be in danger. And if it shifted again, even the slightest bit– it could head right for your small town instead.
Despite the humidity, everything inside of Tyler went cold as he imagined you at home– puttering around the garden, blissfully unaware of what might be coming.
“Will you uh, pass me– pass me my phone, Boone?” Tyler stammered, standing up from the truck bed.
Boone reached into the backpack scattered near his feet and handed over Tyler’s cell phone, placing it in his outstretched hand. Tyler muttered a quick thank you before walking a few strides away as he pulled up your contact information.
The call rang five times before making it to voicemail– your sweet voice asking him to leave a message and you’d get back to him.
“Hey, baby– it’s me. Call me back as soon as you can. Alright, love ya.”
He clicked the phone off before immediately trying again.
“C’mon,” he muttered as the line continued to ring. “C’mon, baby, c’mon,” he hummed nervously, kicking the grass with his boots when he heard your voicemail. “Hey– me again. Listen, I’m not trying to scare ya, but there might be a storm comin’ and I just wanna make sure you’re safe. Give me a call please.”
He paced back towards the group, sending you a quick text just for good measure as he did.
“Alright, what’s the plan here?” Dexter asked.
But Tyler wasn’t paying much attention as he obsessively dialed you for a third time.
“What’s wrong, T?” Boone wondered.
Without looking up from his phone, Tyler exhaled a frustrated breath. “She’s never got her damn phone on her– that’s what’s wrong.” The second he heard your voicemail for a fourth time, he chucked his phone towards his bag. “Damnit!”
Boone swallowed thickly. “I’m sure she’s fine–”
Tyler hung his head. After a moment, he nodded, although he wasn’t entirely convinced that would remain the case if he didn’t get in touch with you fast. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to breathe–
You were fine, he told himself. You were home, you’d hear the alerts if they were necessary, you knew to get into the basement.
Tyler took a long, steadying breath. “Dani, what’s the speed of this thing?”
“Uh, it’s moving– thirty-five miles per hour directly west. I think she’s gaining speed, though.”
“Alright, she’s fast,” Tyler remarked. “We have to be faster. Let’s head home, ladies and gents, we can take cover at my place once I know everyone’s safe.”
“You got it, T,” Lilly said.
“Stay safe everyone,” Dani replied as they all dispersed to their respective vehicles.
Tyler and Boone climbed back into the truck, tires screeching as they sped west towards Lawton, and home towards you.
…
You were inside the bakery on Lowell Street– Tyler’s favorite place for any and all pastries, when you heard the thunder.
Although thunder in Oklahoma wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, it was enough to make you turn your attention outside, just to see what kind of storm you might be up against on the drive home.
“It’s gettin’ dark out there,” Gloria, the owner, said. She glanced at you over the counter and blew a strand of graying hair out of her face.
You nodded in agreement, jumping slightly when another crack of thunder rang through the air. “Sounds like it’s getting closer,” you noticed.
“I still can’t believe that boyfriend of yours goes out of his way to chase these storms. And his friends, too.”
You scoffed. “Yeah, me either. Bunch of adrenaline junkies.”
“Not me,” Gloria smirked. “We get enough chaos in this life, I don’t need to be chasin’ it.”
You returned her smile, recognizing that you might have more in common with the sixty-something year old baker in town than you did your own boyfriend. But you supposed that your differences were what drew you to Tyler. He was brave and thrilling and so alive. Although what he did scared the absolute shit out of you, there was nothing better than watching him exude excitement and just pure joy after he got home from a particularly powerful storm.
“Was he and his crew trackin’ anything out here?” Gloria asked, using the tube of blue icing to write the birthday message you’d requested on top of Tyler’s cake.
“Not here,” you replied. “He was south of OKC last I checked in.”
Which, you realized, had been far longer than you anticipated thanks to not having your phone. You mentally kicked yourself again for leaving it behind. If you’d brought it with you, you could have just given him a call now. Because unless he was smack dab in the middle of a goddamn tornado, he always answered your calls. Just a few reassurances from him could’ve calmed your fears about the storm brewing outside– told you that it was just a thunderstorm passing through.
Not every thunderstorm means a tornado, he had said, you didn’t even know how many times by now. And each time allowed you to relax a little. Because unlike your boyfriend, you didn’t enjoy weather in quite the same way. In fact, after an EF4 had ripped through your home when you were just a child, you did your best to stay as far from tornadoes as Oklahoma allowed.
“I’m sure it’s just thunder,” you began.
But before you could finish your sentence, you heard the sudden pitter patter of hail beginning outside. Gloria lowered the icing tube while you took another step closer to the window to peer out.
Dark, gloomy clouds swirled through the sky.
That was when you heard the sirens. Loud and clear, they echoed through your ears in a terrifying, grim warning.
…
As the storm tracked faster and faster the closer they got, Tyler’s first stop was your shared home just outside of Lawton.
He didn’t even bother turning the truck off before he was hurling himself across the lawn, towards the front door. But before he even looked inside, his stomach dropped when he noticed your SUV wasn’t parked in its typical spot.
Regardless, he practically ripped open the front door before running into the house, calling your name loudly into each room he searched, hoping that maybe you’d lent your car to your mom again– or magically parked it in the garage that was stuffed full of his gear.
But it was no use– you weren’t there.
He knew that for good as soon as he flung open the door to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, pillows arranged perfectly– and your phone sitting on the nightstand table, plugged in and clearly far away from you.
“Damnit!” he yelled, kicking the door frame frustratedly. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. Frustration and anger brewed inside of him, but he knew that underneath all of that was fear– for you and your safety. All he wanted was to have you in his sights again– although preferably wrapped up in his embrace, the only spot he could ensure you were safe... Where you belonged.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Tyler made his way across the room and picked your phone up from the nightstand. Your background– a picture of you and him taken during your trip to Texas last year, lit up the screen. Accompanying it were the slew of notifications you’d missed– the first was the severe weather alert, the next few were all the missed calls from him. But at the very bottom of your screen was a reminder notification– one that allowed him to finally exhale the breath he’d been holding since he burst into the house.
Get Tyler a bday cake.
Sliding your phone into his back pocket, he raced back down the stairs to find Boone standing on the front lawn.
“She’s in town,” he said, rushing towards his truck.
Boone followed close behind. “How do you know?”
“If nothing else,” Tyler said, climbing into his truck, “she follows her schedule.”
…
“Gloria, you gotta listen to me–” you pleaded, hurrying around the counter to grab her hand. “If the sirens are goin’ off, it means we don’t have much time. Does the bakery have a basement, or– or a shelter?”
Gloria’s watery eyes met yours. Your heart sank the moment she shook her head dreadfully.
“Okay,” you said shakily, trying not to panic. What would Tyler do? You looked around the bakery– with its old walls and sagging roof, you knew it wasn’t safe to stay here.
“Gloria, we gotta go,” you said urgently. “We gotta find somewhere safe to be.”
With that, you tugged her towards the exit.
As soon as you were outside, you felt the fierce wind whip your face, along with a few staggering pieces of hail. There was debris– leaves and sticks flying around in every which way, making it hard to see past what was right in front of you.
Although you were trying to be vigilant, you didn’t even see the scrap of metal fly by your face. “Shit!” you exclaimed, feeling it graze your cheek. Ripped skin was quickly followed by the feeling of warm blood trickling across your skin.
“Are you alright?” Gloria asked, grabbing your arm.
You used your free hand to press against your cheek before nodding. “We gotta get out of here,” you said.
But just as you turned to try and gauge your surroundings, hoping to come up with a shred of a plan, you froze at what was looming in the distance.
Winds whipped rapidly, the sky boomed, and a dark, wide funnel had formed– it’s tip already touching down on the ground. And it was coming straight for you.
“Gloria, we gotta go–” you cried. “Now!”
…
Tyler drove as fast as he could– foot nearly pressed down on the ground. He drove like his life depended on it. Because yours did–
The truth was– he’d never given much thought to losing you. He was generally too preoccupied with wondering what you’d do if you lost him. He was the one putting himself in danger all the time, he was the one forcing his way in the middle of these storms.
He didn’t know what he’d do without you– except be a shell of who he was now.
“Holy shit–” he heard Boone say from the passenger seat.
Tyler refocused his attention ahead, his eyes widening the second he saw what Boone was fixated on.
It was hard to miss the giant, fucking tornado barreling right for Lawton’s array of buildings.
“We’re too late–” Tyler croaked. “We’re too fucking late–”
“She’s smart,” Boone assured Tyler. “She knows where to go and what to do.”
Tyler’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator and drove faster.
…
In retrospect, the laundromat probably wasn’t the best place for you to be. But there were few windows and the back room was lined with secure piping, all which jetted deeply into the ground, creating a solid anchoring point.
There were a few other people huddled in the same room, already low on the ground and clutching onto one another.
“Hold on to that!” you cried, practically pushing Gloria towards the corner of the room. She wound her frail arms around the piping before crouching down. You were right beside her, arms locked tightly on the piping as you felt the building start to shake.
The storm outside was deafening. Winds whistled and boomed. You were pretty sure the woman beside you was screaming– but you couldn’t hear her above the noise of everything else. You tried to be brave– the way you knew Tyler would be if he were here.
Once, about three years ago, an EF3 hit his parent’s ranch while the two of you were staying there for a long weekend. You remembered the way he stayed so calm, so collected through it all. After ushering everyone into the storm shelter, he wrapped his strong arms around you, anchoring you to him. The ranch didn’t shake like this though… And even though you’d been scared that night, it paled in comparison to what you felt now.
This building was weak– the structure was unsound. You had no idea how close the tornado actually was, but you knew this thing wasn’t going to stay put. It was just a matter of if the pipes went deep enough into the ground and if you could hold on to them. Because you didn’t have Tyler holding on for you this time.
You hoped he was somewhere safe– maybe tracking the storm that was about to kill you from a reasonable distance.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” you told Gloria, sweaty palms making your grip slip. “Just hold on–”
The building began to shake harder– the very foundation rocking beneath you. Shortly after, pieces of the roof began tearing off, exposing the thunderous storm raging above.
“I don’t–” Gloria cried. “I don’t think I can hold on!”
You tried loosening your own grip– hoping you could wrap your arms around her like Tyler had done for you before, or do something to help. But then you heard another ear splitting roar, and suddenly, the entire roof was being ripped off from the building. There was nothing you could do. You weren’t strong enough–
“Hold on!” you screamed, tucking your head into your elbow and squeezing your eyes shut. “Just a little longer!”
But as the words left your lips, even you didn’t believe them.
…
By the time they finally reached town, the tornado had already moved on.
Part of the reason why Tyler loved tornados so much was their power and speed. In his eyes– it was nothing short of an act of God to see what damage a simple funnel of wind could do in just a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds.
Until he was faced with the inevitable tragedy of it all.
Because it was one thing to see trees uprooted, or tractors rolled over. It was another to see an entire town had succumbed to a pile of debris– vehicles thrown this way and that– metal and siding and bricks scattered over every inch of the flat land– To know that people, his friends, his neighbors, you could be buried underneath piles of rubble– bodies broken and bleeding and hurt if they were lucky enough to be alive at all.
Tyler brought his truck to a screeching halt, not even hesitating before he was ripping off his seatbelt and hurling himself out of his seat. The second his boots hit the mud, he screamed your name as loud as he could.
Eyes whipping around, he tried to process the scene before him. But it was hard to gauge where anything used to be– there was practically nothing left.
“Tyler!” he heard someone scream in the distance. Head whipping to the side, he saw Lilly, waving her arms frantically.
For a moment, Tyler let himself get his hopes up. He raced across the distance between them as fast as he could, despite all the obstacles in his way. But when he finally reached her, he was devastated to see that you weren’t there at all. Instead, Lilly was staring at a vehicle, flipped over and crunched like it’d been hit head-on by an 18-wheeler.
And although it was damaged beyond repair, Tyler recognized it as yours immediately.
He felt his chest tighten. “Christ–” he stammered, unable to fight back the tears burning behind his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair before hunching over, hoping the motion would allow him to finally catch his breath.
“Oh God,” he panted. “God, no– please, no–”
“She might not have been in it,” Lilly said quickly.
But Tyler barely heard her. He was too fixated on the pounding in his ears–
A wave of hopelessness washed over him, flooding his insides. He was too late– he couldn’t save you– he was too fucking late.
“We’re gonna find her, T,” Boone’s voice was suddenly peaking through the fog.
“Yeah, we won’t stop until we do,” Dani added.
Tyler forced himself to take a few, steadying breaths. When he could, he straightened his back and glanced around.
His whole team hadn’t given up on you.
Neither could he.
…
When you finally gained the courage to open your eyes, you were met by a fierce brightness. You coughed– lungs heaving as you struggled to breathe.
“Gloria?” you tried to speak. “Are you okay?”
You were met by an eerie silence– the calm after the storm. Blinking harshly a few times, you tried to gather up enough strength to sit up. But as soon as you did, you had a chance to look around… And boy, do you wish you hadn’t.
There was nothing left– the entire town was gone… destroyed, buried in rubble and debris.
“Gloria?” you called, groaning as you pushed the thick layer of roofing off from your legs. You grimaced once you saw the deep gash down the side of your thigh, oozing blood.
Breath shuddering, you continued to scan the area– trying to wrack your brain for what the hell you were supposed to do next. The second you moved to turn your head, you winced, vision blurring. Slowly, you grazed along your forehead with your fingertips. When you pulled them away, you grimaced to see them coated in crimson liquid.
You stared at it for far too long– unsure what else to do. You were hurt– probably worse than it felt, too if adrenaline had anything to say about it. You didn’t know if you could walk on your leg, or if you’d pass out the second you tried to stand up.
You felt hopeless– completely and utterly alone.
Until you faintly heard the sound of your name being called in the distance.
It was enough to make you snap out of your trance, head whipping around to see Boone throwing aside a piece of siding. He called out a second time before turning and locking eyes with you from across the way.
“Boone,” you said under your breath, like you couldn’t quite believe he was real. Because if Boone was here– calling out for you, that meant Tyler couldn’t be far behind.
Boone yelled your name again before turning. “I found her!” he screamed, waving his arms. “Over here!”
You fought back the guilt you felt for still not finding Gloria and moved to stand on shaky legs.
“I’ll come back for you,” you promised her.
Wobbly and weak, you limped towards him, trying your best not to fall in the cracks and crevices beneath the debris. You looked down, intending to watch your step, but instead you caught a glimpse of your leg and all the blood now coating your entire thigh and calf. Just the sight of it made you lose your balance.
“Shit,” you gasped, as you landed harshly on the ground. You looked back up and saw Boone heading your way– only fifty yards or so from you. But then– right behind Boone, was a sight that made everything else melt away.
“Tyler,” you exhaled, like it was a prayer tumbling from your lips.
His long legs moved fast– practically running despite everything in his way.
He’d make it to you– he’d get you. But if you got up and kept moving… he’d get there sooner. So, with whatever you had left inside of you, you pushed yourself up. Ignoring the pounding in your head and the throbbing in your leg, you limped forward.
“Tyler,” you said again– not loud enough for anyone else to hear. It was like you just needed a reminder that really was right there. “Tyler–” this time, when his name tumbled from your lips, it came out as a sob– every emotion inside of you bubbling to the surface of your skin. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurred.
He was so close now– you could hear the rubble shift as he stepped on it.
He called your name… and God, if his voice wasn’t the sweetest sound you’d ever heard.
“Tyler–” you cried again, throat choked from dust and tears.
And then, just like that, his body was colliding with yours. Arms winding tightly around your shoulders, a familiar scent enveloping you, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, anchoring you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, face buried in his button down shirt.
“Oh, God,” he whispered above you, lips grazing the side of your head. “I got you,” he said.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out– only a guttural, uncontrollable sob that made him hold you tighter.
“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered into your hair.
“Tyler–” was all you managed to choke out.
His thumb trailed up and down your hair, matted with mud and your own blood. “I’m here. I’m right here. I got you.”
He held you tight, steadying your shaky frame. It was like he was the one thing keeping you from completely falling apart. Which was why your body almost recoiled when he finally pulled away. You needed him wrapped around you like that forever.
You tried to resist, to pull him back, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. All you could do was stand there weakly while his wild, concerned eyes scanned the length of you.
“I’m fine–” you tried to say.
But he shook his head instantly. “You’re not fine. You’re hurt, we gotta get you out of here. Get an ambulance!” he yelled to Boone, who was lingering nearby, looking like he didn’t quite know how to help. Boone nodded instantly before hurrying off.
“Tyler–”
“Okay, I see the leg– what else?” he asked. “What else hurts?”
“My head,” you whimpered. “And my ribs–” you admitted, although you hadn’t quite managed to look at those yet. “But Tyler–”
Before you could finish, Tyler’s hand gripped the hem of your tank top, pulling it up slightly. You winced as the fabric brushed over your ribs. But when Tyler pressed a hand on the bare skin, you almost screamed out in pain. “Sorry,” he said gently. “I gotta look though, baby. I gotta check it.”
You nodded, fingers squeezing the fabric of his shirt as he did. The pain was excruciating– enough to make your already-dizzy head start to spin.
“I think they’re broken– at least a couple. Can’t say for certain.”
“Tyler,” you tried to repeat, tears still streaming steadily down your face.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he said once he saw the shift on your face.
“It’s Gloria,” you finally spit out. “She’s out here somewhere, Tyler. We have to find her–”
Tyler’s gaze softened at your words. He pulled his eyes away from you long enough to quickly scan the scene.
“Did you see her? Or know where she went?”
You shook your head, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “No–” you cried. “No, I don’t know where she went. Tyler, I have to find her–”
“Easy,” he soothed, winding an arm around your middle so that he could brace the majority of your weight. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We gotta get you checked out.”
“I can’t leave her–” you protested.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice gentle but stern. “You bleeding out on a pile of rubble isn’t going to help her, okay? Let me get you somewhere safe, Boone and Dexter can search for Gloria, alright?”
After a moment, you nodded solemnly. “You promise?”
“I promise, baby. Now c’mon.”
Before you could protest, you felt Tyler’s arm swoop around the backs of your legs, while the other supported your back. In an instant, your feet are lifted off from the ground. You didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay your head against his chest.
“There we go,” he soothed. “I got you.”
His thumb trailed along your back gently as he began navigating the pile of rubble around you.
You felt safe nestled against him– and for the first time since you’d emerged from the rubble, you felt safe enough to allow your eyes to fall shut.
“Hey, stay awake now, okay? We’re just a short walk to the ambulances– keep lookin’ at me.”
You tried– honestly you did. You opened them up, despite everything inside of you that screamed to close them. And then you fought like hell to keep them trained on Tyler– to study the lining of his jaw and the tan shade of his skin. But Tyler’s embrace was so warm, and his voice was just so soft. And you were so, so tired. There was nothing you could do when they fell shut again.
Tyler pleaded for you, but unconsciousness got there first.
…
Even after the doctors assured him you’d be okay– that it was just exhaustion and blood loss from the trauma you’d endured keeping you out for so long, he couldn’t settle down.
You looked so goddamn frail– so broken in that hospital bed. He couldn’t stand it.
It was nearly ten at night before the rest of his team packed up to head back home, making him promise to call them as soon as you woke up.
“We can stay if you want,” Lilly offered. There was no hint of sarcasm or malice in her tone. She was being genuine. Which was how Tyler knew he must have been an absolute mess.
“That’s alright,” he croaked, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. Even he could hear the pain in his voice.
Boone clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Love you, man.”
“Call us if you need anything,” Dani said.
Tyler nodded, promised he would. But the only thing he needed was for you to wake up.
…
His watch read midnight when you finally stirred.
Tyler was sitting in a chair, pulled all the way up to your bedside, and was clutching your hand with both of his. He had his forehead resting against the hospital bed, but the second he felt movement, he shot up quickly, all the exhaustion fading instantly.
Your face contorted into a frown as you squeezed your eyes shut once, twice, three times before they fluttered open.
Scooting forward in his chair, he studied you as you glanced around– clearly trying to take in your surroundings and place where you were. The second you started to shift– like you were sitting up in bed in a panic, he squeezed your hand.
“Hey, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”
Your head turned towards him, confusion and fear plastered all over your cut up, bruised face. Just the sight made his chest ache.
“You’re safe.”
You fell back against the pillow and nodded slowly.
“Tyler–” you began shakily, he could already hear the sob lodged in your throat. “I– I’m…”
“You’re okay, baby,” he assured you.
“No– I’m- I’m so sorry–”
He froze, brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey, what’s this? Stop- you got nothing to be sorry for, baby.”
“I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t hear the alert until it was too late. It was stupid– I just–” your face crumpled as you struggled to find words. “You always tell me not to forget it and I forgot it.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I just– I wanted to get you a birthday cake– I should have gotten it sooner, but I forgot– and…” your voice continued to crack and break with each breath you took. “I know you don’t love birthdays, but I love your birthday–” Tyler leaned forward in his seat, releasing your hand so that he could cup your cheek. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before his fingers traced your jawline delicately.
“I think your cake got destroyed.”
He couldn’t help the soft smirk that spread across his face. “I’d say that’s probably a fair assumption.”
“I’m sorry–”
“Hey,” he soothed. “Fuck birthday cakes– I didn’t want one anyway. I was thinkin’ we could get a nice pie this year. What do ya think? Blueberry? Peach cobbler?”
“But Gloria made it–”
Suddenly, your face fell and you were back to sitting up eagerly. “Oh my God, Tyler. Gloria– she–”
“She’s safe,” Tyler interjected quickly. “Thanks to you. Boone found her not far from where you wound up, clutching to some pipes. She had a few scratches, but that was it. She said the pipes were your idea.”
A rush of pride flowed through him as he beamed at you. His girl– getting people to safety in the middle of a tornado, despite how scared you must have been.
Your watery eyes met his, lip quivering as you tried to speak. “Tyler– I didn’t think…” he could hear the tears in your throat before you even let them out. “I didn’t think we were going to make it. God, I don’t know how we made it.”
Your voice broke on the last word, a sob escaping your lips as you doubled over. Instantly, Tyler was out of his chair and sliding into the tiny, hospital bed beside you carefully avoiding your cracked ribs and stitched up thigh.
Without even hesitating, you curled into his side, fingers grasping as his shirt like your life depended on it.
“Shh,” he soothed, hand rubbing up and down your arm. “You did make it. You and Gloria both. You made it because you thought on your feet– I’m so proud of you,” he hummed, pressing his lips to the side of your head.
He had no idea if you believed him or not– no idea if his words were sinking in at all. You clutched his shirt and cried against his chest– frame shaking with each breath you took. Tyler felt so helpless in that moment. All he could do was whisper reassuring comments and words of affirmation in your ear and hold you tightly against him.
After a while, your breathing started to return to normal. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you let out a sigh. “You came to get me,” you said quietly, voice sounding so tired– like it was moments away from drifting off.
Tyler pressed his lips to your hair, eyes squeezing shut. “I’ll always come to get you,” he promised.
You nodded. “I know.”
Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm a few more times soothingly. “The laundry mat was a good idea– especially with the pipes,” he murmured into your hair.
With what little energy you had left, you pulled away from him to glance up. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Does that mean I can be a tornado wrangler now?”
He smirked playfully. “That depends, do you want to be?”
You bit your lip, like you were really thinking about it. After a moment, you scrunched your nose up. “And face one of those things nearly everyday? Not a chance.”
Tyler smiled, pulling you gently against his chest– right where you belonged. “There’s my girl,” he said lovingly.
F!reader combing through Sergei’s hair as he lays his head in her lap… so sweet! 💖
word count 680
There were few tells if Sergei has had a rough hunt. For one, he's clingy – more so than usual. Second, he's constantly messing with his hair. Be it running his fingers through the curls, pushing them behind his ears just to run his fingers through his hair and have it fall back into his eyes or simply him fiddling with it.
No matter what, it always ended up a tangled mess that he rarely had the patience to deal with. Insert you. If there's one thing you have patience for, it's him. Especially when it comes down to taking care of him, which he so rarely lets you, the need to never be vulnerable still ingrained into his mind by his father.
However, slowly but surely he's been adapting. Small tells that indicate he wants you to just baby him for a moment, to let him relax in a way he usually only can when he sleeps out in the woods.
For example now. You've been sitting on the couch, reading your book, for only about thirty minutes now, cozy. When he comes home you acknowledge him with a soft smile and accept the peck he presses to your lips when he makes his way past you and into the bathroom for a shower.
First hint that his hunt hadn't gone as planned was his frown and the lingering hand on your shoulder, a silent demand for you to join his shower. Which you usually would have but you had just showered earlier yourself and the book was just too good to put down. So, he had a quick shower just to come out sulking, tiny pout on his face and frown even more prominent.
You suppose he either has no clue how obvious he's being about his need for affection or he knows exactly but still doesn't want to make the first move. And you'd love to see him keep pouting and being sulky, but you have too big of a soft spot to leave him be.
The perfect opportunity arises when you see the tangled mess of his hair and his tense movements. He usually cared for his curls just enough to keep them healthy and looking good but when his day has been really bad he doesn't bother to do anything. Especially because it will guarantee you sitting him down and carefully brushing and oiling his hair (which he'll never admit he loves so much that he has to fight falling asleep every single time).
“Sergei?”
He turns to look at you, lip twitching in a silent wince as something in his back pinches and pulls tight. “Hm?” he grunts in reply.
You put a bookmark between the pages you were just reading and set it aside, then pat your lap.
He remains stoic for a second and then walks over, steps as silent as always. He lays down with a grunt, head in your lap and feet over the edge of the sofa. You grab the brush from the coffee table (left there just a few days ago when he'd demanded you to brush his hair) and start carefully combing out the knots and ends. His expression softens up, eyes keenly watching you.
He turns his head sideways so you can reach the back of his head and occasionally lets you turn his head the way you need to. “Did you pull something in your back?” you inquire, the difference in his movements still at the forefront of your mind.
“Don't worry ‘bout it, love,” he grunts, ready to just wait out the injury. You furrow your brows and pinch his shoulder in warning, making him sigh. “It's not too bad. Just need to do some stretching.”
Halfway satisfied with that answer and mentally noting to keep an eye on it, you keep combing out his hair until it's nice and smooth again, wayward curls framing his face prettily.
You reach down to cup his cheek and smile softly, making him lean in and kiss the pulse point of your wrist, lingering there and just breathing you in. Just like that your book is forgotten for the moment as you massage his scalp and let him place kisses all along your arm that is resting over his chest.
You're all over him the second he comes home. He's covered in blood, sweat and other substances — all from his most recent ‘hunt’.
And yet you're clinging to him, arms around his narrow waist and pretty smiling face pushed into his chest. He has soft sides to him, goofy ones, that usually only come out when he's with his brother Dimitri. But with you he finds himself uncaring, not masking any emotions whatsoever.
“You took longer than I thought.. had me worried.” It's a murmur into his skin and his large hands gently wrap around your waist in reassurance, “I am fine. Not a scratch.”
It's a lie and you both know it; he's bruised up and bloody in too many places for you to not be worried.
“Go, you need a shower.”
He obeys your command and does a quick playful bow, which makes you chuckle. As you're about to go back to your previous task of putting new sheets on the bed you feel yourself being lifted up and held to a firm chest. With a yelp you grab at the next best thing – in this case his shoulders.
“I think I deserve my girl in the shower, too.”
He grins and when he's in the bathroom he sets you down on the counter next to the sink, making it his task to carefully and slowly undress you, leaving you only in panties. When you're bare he momentarily stops in his tracks, eyes taking in your soft and unmarred skin.
“Never gonna let anything happen to you,” he suddenly promises, firmly gripping your thighs. Your pout from being manhandled turns into a soft expression and you hum knowingly, pecking his shoulder sweetly.
“I know.”
He stares thoughtfully for a moment longer, then takes his own pants off and gets into the shower to adjust the water temperature, holding out his hand to you when the water is warm.
You slide off the counter, take your panties off and grasp his hand, not fully able to wrap your fingers around his large palm and let him pull you under the stream of water.
His eyes are just as intense as always as he watches you get your hair soaked and body warmed up. Blindly reaching for your shampoo he makes a noise in the back of his throat before firm fingers begin to massage your shampoo into your scalp and hair carefully.
While the water washes away the suds you open your eyes again, adoring smile on your face. “Hi, handsome.”
He huffs in amusement and shortly taps under your chin.
The shower takes as long as it usually does when you share, him insisting to wash your hair and your body, then in turn huffing at being pampered himself. When you step out he has a steadying hand on your waist to prevent any accidents on the damp floor, already wrapping a soft towel around your body before you could even ask for one.
While he does your hair care for you, you focus on brushing your teeth and doing the little skincare you own — turning to grin at him with your face shiny with lotion and smelling of sugar and sweetness.
He pokes your side before brushing his own teeth, running his fingers through his curls and calling it a day.
“Sergei,” you pout, always quick to keep his skin from going dry as well as his hair. He sighs and bends down enough so you can reach, already accustomed to your little routine, as you lotion his face and put some hair oil into his curls.
“All done.” He hums and looks at you with all the adoration in the world mirrored in his blue eyes. He's still shirtless, only in his boxers – and of course wearing the necklace – while you're in your pajamas, fuzzy socks, slippers and a soft bathrobe.
He can't help but count himself the luckiest man alive; living a life as comfortable as this, no matter the side of brutality, with a girl like you waiting for him at home every day.
Acting on his desire he easily picks you up and carries you pressed to his firm chest into bed, careful as he lays you down.
“I'm being spoiled,” you giggle and he melts just a little further, letting your hands pull him down onto the mattress so you can cuddle into his side and use his chest as a pillow.
“Always need to spoil my girl,” he muses, fingers spread on your lower back.
You smile into his skin and trace invisible shapes on his firm abs, already halfway into a nap. You just barely hear it when he mumbles an ‘I love you’ and kisses the top of your head, but it makes you smile and squeeze impossibly closer to him.
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