Request : Can I ask for a Tyler x reader with your favorite fanfic cliche? I'm curious and it would be cute
Warnings : fluffy, nightmares, minor character injury, Coulrophobia (fear of clowns)
A/N : Before you ask, yes I am terrified of clowns but I still had a ton of fun writing this, probably more than I should've... Enjoy!
Your heart pounded against your ribcage. The carnival lights flashed happily against the thundering sky. You knew they were here, but it was the anxiety of not knowing where. Lightning split the sky. Your knees threatened to give out as you took shaky steps forward. Music from the carousel played through broken speakers, the happy tune coming out distorted and grainy.
Laughter bounced around you. You couldn't feel your fingertips. A hand clamps down on your shoulder, punching the air from your lungs. Your fear-ridden brain couldn't focus enough to tell you to run or turn around or even breathe. You stood there, completely leg locked. The hand left your shoulder, but you didn't dare move. You closed your eyes tightly, a dull ache quickly setting behind them. The laughter grew louder.
Your legs were going numb, slowly crawling its way up from your feet, as if you were slipping into ice water. The nothing slithered up your calves, working past your knees into your thighs. A pair of hands quickly slipped beneath your arms, holding your weight for you.
"Please lemme' go," you mumble. Your tongue felt as if was about to fall down your throat. You open your eyes, tears springing in the corners. The makeup drowned face stared back at you. It's eyes were an unnatural purple, glinting deviously in the carnival lights.
The beating of your heart slammed through you. The numbness coursed with your blood, now losing the feeling in your chest and stomach. It's hands slowly slip up your arms, cradling you face with a wicked smile plaguing its face. You squeezed your eyes shut again, feeling the tear fall down your face.
"What's wrong, Y/N?! We're just havin' some fun!" It cheered loudly.
You tried shaking your head. "This isn't fun," you whispered.
"Sure it is!" Water splashes against your face and you yelp. "See!"
"It's not fun," you cry softly.
It growled and pushed you away. "Do you not like me?"
You bit your tongue. Hands connect with your shoulders, effectively pushing you to the ground. Ripping your eyes open, you try and catch yourself, but only make yourself land on your arm at a twisted angle. You scream upon contact.
Letting your back hit the dirt beneath you, you cradle your arm against your chest, sobs racking your body. Fingers ghost over your arm and you try pushing yourself away. You turn your head, pressing your cheek into the ground.
"No, please," you plead breathlessly.
"Do you not like having fun!" It was more of a realization than a question. A foot crashes down on your stomach and you cry out at the sudden pressure on your insides.
"Y/N!" Your name sounded muffled, like you had stuck your head underwater. A kick to the face. You roll to your side with the non-injured arm, spitting out blood. It pulls you to your back again, pressing down on you arms. You scream hoarsely, hot tears blending with the blood on your face.
It takes hold of your shirt, pulling you eye level. You grip its arms, thrashing wildly in an attempt to break free from its grasp. "Please, don't hurt me!"
Y/N! Wake up!" It was clearer this time. "Y/N! Come on! Wake up!"
You bolt upright, sucking in a lungful of air. Sweat drenched your hairline. Your eyes searched around frantically for the clown.
"Hey, Y/N," someone cooed, "Y/N, it's okay. I'm right here." You couldn't breathe properly. A car horn outside made you jump, whopping your head towards the window. "Y/N, look at me," they say softly, cupping you face. You clutch their wrists as they slowly pull your line of vision to their face.
"Tyler," you breathe. His hair was a curly mess, practically thrown atop his head with no interest in taming it. His eyes searched your face.
"Good," he praises gently, "you're okay. I'm right here."
Another tear slips down your cheek unwillingly. Suddenly a typhoon of sobs escape your mouth. Tyler wraps you in a hug, holding you against himself tightly. You grip his shirt for dear life, feeling your knuckles brush over the muscles in his chest through the fabric.
You must've cried for half an hour, Tyler never letting you go. Even when the waterworks ran dry, he kept you close to him, whispering soothing words into you hair.
"Would you like some water?" he mumbles softly.
You shake your head. "No, ‘m okay."
He nods and rests his chin on your head. As you sat there with your ear against his heartbeat, you slowly felt your eyelids grow heavy. So when your breathing evened out and you fell slack against him, Tyler sighed with a smile on his face and awkwardly shuffled to lay you down. When he had pulled the blankets over you again, your eyes fluttered open sleepily.
"Tyler," you whisper, "stay."
That one little word shouldn't have made his heart jump, but it did. He nodded and slipped under the covers with you. He tried leaving space between you and him, but you curled yourself into his side, breathing him in. Had you been awake, you would've teased him about the tips of his ears turning bright red, but as your lips twitch into a smile, he couldn't help but smile himself. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer.
You hand came to rest on his chest. He watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. He brought his empty hand to rest on yours. Your fingers absently tangled themselves with his and his heart swelled at the action.
-You’re sitting around listening to music and you mutter “are you nasty” as you work on some stuff.
-Tyler, Mark, and Ethan overhear it. Between the three of them, one of them knows what it is but refuses to tell the others.
-Mark and Ethan google the phrase to see what it’s from, while Tyler says “it’s not really a big deal. Why’re you acting like the world’s gonna en if you don’t figure it out?”
-A week later as Tyler had forgotten about it and moved on with his life, he’s greeted by Ethan saying Mark needs him.
-That’s how the three of them ended up in front of you, all wearing the same outfit:
-You didn’t know why or how or what or when or anything, but it didn’t stop you from chortling for the next three days, and every time you heard the phrase “are you nasty?” from then on out.
(literally called shower thoughts bc this is what i imagined in the shower as i was listening to this song. BTW that is the first image you find on google when you google ‘are you nasty’)
Word Count: 506
Warning content: the reader is implied to have depression. I know not everyone has the ~same~ kind of depression, so I based it around things that I have personally done myself. So, sorry if you can’t entirely relate. ^^;
You sighed softly as you shrugged your jacket off, tossing it onto the ‘clothes chair’. The dedicated catch-all chair for any clothes you didn’t feel like putting away. You kicked your shoes off and mumbled under your breath as you changed into something more comfortable and tossed yourself into bed, making sure all the lights were off, but you still had your phone.
“Hey, Mark, have you seen [y/n]? They should have been home by now but I haven’t been able to find them?” Tyler asked, giving a slight frown.
“Have you checked your room? I mean I can look around a bit, but usually after work that’s where they go.”
“I did, but I guess I’ll check again. Call me if you find them first.”
He walked into his room, turning on the light to see his room, normal? He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, waiting for it to ring to see if the lumps on the bed were you or just the crazy pillow throwing. He recognized the ringtone coming from under his blankets as a small light flashed, dulled from the fabric. He quickly hung up and peeled the covers off, hoping that if you were sleeping he didn’t disturb you. He blinked as he saw you blankly staring at your phone, looking dazed out as the screen slowly turned back off after a few seconds.
“[y/n]?”he quietly asked, leaning on the edge of the bed.
“Hm?” he got in response as your eyes slowly looked up at him, almost as if not recognizing he was there.
“Hey… Are you alright?” he gently gestured he wanted to sit down, giving you enough time to move over to let him.
“I-I think so?” you stammered out, unsure of how you actually felt. Were you alright? He gently put his hand on your forehead, checking to see if it might be a fever. He crossed that off his list.
“Hey, how about we watch a movie?”
“Do I have to get up?”
“No, just lie here with me?”
“Alright…”
“So what the doc say?” Tyler asked as you kicked your shoes off and flopped onto the couch.
“Said I’m doing a lot better and to continue doing what I’ve been and suggested some new coping techniques.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad that things are working out for the better.”
“Yeah… Uh… hey…” you murmured softly, causing him to look at you again, “thanks for dealing with me through all of it…”
“Hey, don’t say that. I wasn’t dealing with anything. I was helping you out, because I care about you. You just needed a lift once in awhile and I didn’t mind giving it to you, so don’t be afraid to come to me when you need it.” he reaffirmed with a bear hug, forcing him to lean on you as he watched something on the T.V. You smiled softly as you relaxed, feeling better about having someone you could count on in your time of need.
