Pairing: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing

Word Count: 816

Prompt: "Come talk to me when you feel like actually giving a s**t."

The door slammed, drawing your attention away from the TV. You immediately paused your show and listened to what was going on in the entryway. Tyler wasn't one to slam doors, or show any signs of outward anger for that matter, so you were curious as to what was going on.

He stomped into the room a moment later and threw himself down into the nearby armchair.

"How was the studio?" you asked hesitantly.

"Fine," he grumbled, his eyes not even meeting yours.

You paused, unsure if you should ask him what was wrong or not since he didn't seem too eager to talk about it.

"So, um, what's going on?" you eventually asked.

He rolled his eyes as he looked over at you, "I got a speeding ticket."

"That's what has you so upset?"

His face contorted a bit, "Yes, that's what has me so upset."

You were a bit taken aback by his snappy response.

"A speeding ticket isn't a big deal. I've gotten a couple before."

"Yeah, but you didn't have the media on your ass waiting for you to make a mistake. Give it a few hours and this is going to be some huge media story. I can already see the headlines..."

"Babe, I really don't think this is a big deal. Everyone gets speeding tickets."

He suddenly stood up from the chair, "That's not the point, Y/N! The point is that the paparazzi can twist this and make it look like anything! You just don't get it because you aren't constantly in the public eye."

You wanted to yell back at him and tell him how wrong he was, but you knew it would just lead to a screaming match that wouldn't resolve anything. He was just upset and throwing words at you that he didn't really mean.

"Tyler, nothing bad is going to happen. Trust me, you know-"

He cut you off, "You just don't get it! You aren't listening to me. Come talk to me when you feel like actually giving a shit."

He stormed out of the room before you had a chance to say anything. You leaned back against the couch with a sigh.

You finished the episode of the TV show you were watching, deciding it was best to give Tyler some space before you tried to talk anything else out with him. As long as he was angry, he wasn't going to listen to any type of reasoning you tried to give him.

He was lying on his back on the bed when you found him. His ukulele was next to him, although it looked like he had given up playing a while ago. You leaned against the doorframe, not sure if he was calm enough to talk to yet.

"How are you feeling, Ty?"

"Awful," he said, although the anger was gone from his voice.

You walked over and took a seat on the bed next to him. His face was blank, and from the looks of it he had been stuck in his thoughts for awhile.

"You know this is all going to be ok, right? I'm going to be here for you no matter what happens."

He turned to face you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I know. I just get so worried. You and I know that it was a speeding ticket, but with the right picture it can look like anything. I try so hard to keep a clean image, and one stupid mistake could just lay that all to waste."

You reached out and ran a hand through his hair, "I know, but you never know what's going to happen. Maybe it will end up being nothing, and all of this worrying was just a waste of time."

He reached up and put his hand on top of yours, squeezing it slightly, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it, I know you go through a lot too. I was just so worried and it felt like you weren't hearing what I was saying."

"It's ok. I know your patterns of thought, and I was just trying to stop you from blaming yourself so much. Everyone makes mistakes."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "Yeah, sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself."

"That kind of thing happens when you're with someone for five years."

"Thank you," he said, looking up at you.

"Your welcome."

You leaned down and planted a quick kiss on his lips. He reached up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him in a hug.

"Now why don't we go make some dinner and forget about all this for awhile?" you suggested.

"Deal. Race you downstairs?"

"Only if you're ready to lose."

"I'd be careful with that trash talk. The cops seem to think I'm pretty fast."

"You're such a dork, Joseph."