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mrsmangi · 22 days ago

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found - luigi mangione

♡ summary: luigi spends his nights haunted by dreams of you—vivid, tender, and impossibly real. each morning, he wakes with the ache of losing you, over and over, with no foreseeable end. how much more can he take? ♡ w.c.: 6.3k ♡ a/n: hi. this is a continuation of my fic, past life. it was absolutely devastating to write, but i will post this with pictures of luigi in his red sweater (again) to make myself feel better because it's my favorite outfit of his thus far. hope you guys enjoy!

♡ trigger warnings: this work contains themes of depression, grief, and suggestive content. please proceed with care.

—

The soft click of the apartment door echoes in the stillness as Luigi steps inside, his hand lingering on the cold metal doorknob for support. The familiar scent of perfume drifts toward him, engulfing him in a warmth that feels too good to be true. He pauses, a faint flicker of awareness settling in his mind.

Luigi is dreaming, again–he knows it. The clarity of the moment, the way every detail feels sharper than reality feels unmistakable, but he knows this isn’t his world.

These dreams had become more frequent since the first–when he had met you. He felt each of them pulling him into this world, further and further down the rabbit hole, where you waited for him. Although he was beginning to become acquainted with it–his abnormal awareness in his dreams–, it never stopped feeling strange to him. It was as though he continuously existed in two places at once: as the man in his dreams, showered with intimacy from his lover, and the man outside of it, alone.

He is unsettled. Not just by the vividness of his illusions, but how natural it all feels, as if this version of his life is just as real as the one he always returns to in the morning. The longer Luigi stands, the harder it is to ignore the whispers of longing plaguing the back of his mind. Despite knowing it isn’t real, he can’t help but wish it were.

So, he chooses to stand and take it all in. It feels like home.

That’s when he sees it.

Streamers criss-cross on the ceiling in haphazard lines. Balloons floating lazily in corners of the living room. Taped to the wall in large, uneven letters is a banner that reads: “WELCOME HOME, LUIGI! ♡” Glittery, colorful, slightly crooked letters–but perfect. He blinks, heart dropping to his stomach. An overwhelming sensation; one that pleasantly surprises him.

You stand in the center of it all, clutching a poster board almost as tall as you, the word “HI” scrawled across it in colorful marker and uneven glitter glue. Your grin (that beautiful grin he just adores) stretches wide. You are sunshine personified, he realizes fondly, a dazzling beam of joy. You only grow brighter the moment your eyes lock.

Immediately, you burst into laughter, poster board slipping from your hands and clattering to the floor as you sprint toward him.

“Luigi!” you call out, voice bursting with excitement and relief.

Before he can react, you crash into him, arms wrapping gently around his waist. He stumbles slightly, caught off guard, body stiff and protesting the sudden movement. He doesn’t care. Dropping his bag to the floor, he folds himself around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair. The warmth of your body against his is almost enough to make him forget the ache in his back and the heaviness of his legs.

Your lips find his in a kiss so tender, he thinks his knees might buckle from beneath him. For a moment, Luigi feels no pain. The accident never happened and he was never escorted to the hospital, or bedridden for over a week. There’s just you, soft and warm and impossibly close. He leans into you, hands curving around your waist, melting into place.

When you finally pull away, your hands cup his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you study him. “Hi,” you whisper cheekily.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“I missed you so much,” you sigh. “You have no idea.”

Luigi’s lips twitch into a faint smile. His chest swells with gratitude. “I missed you more,” he confesses softly. Luigi knows this won’t last. It never does.

The welcome banner, the streamers, your smile–none of it will follow him when he wakes. He’ll wake up, alone in a bed half empty because you won’t be there. But even knowing all of it, Luigi lets himself savor every moment he has with you, holding onto you like a lifeline.

He will let himself believe it’s real, even if it’s just for a fraction of a second. The pain in his spine becomes more pronounced, and he can’t tell if it’s just because he’s post-recovery or because he knows this is only temporary, especially when he wants it to be permanent so desperately.

“Are you still with me?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He snaps out of it, looking down at you as you smile up at him, teasingly. You always seem to know when his mind begins to wander. You are so patient. He likes that about you.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking,” he pauses, arms still hooked around your waist. He looks over the room once more. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble just for me.”

“Don’t be silly. It wasn’t any trouble and even if it was, yes, I did,” you say. “You’ve been stuck in bed for over a week in that awful hospital room. I just couldn’t wait for you to come home. I wanted so badly to remind you how loved you are.”

Luigi swallows hard. There’s a lump in his throat that makes it impossible to speak. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You only laugh and run your fingers through his curls. For however long it lasts, he wants to lose himself in you. Pretend this fleeting world of light and warmth and all things good will last forever.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs into your skin, quietly.

“Stop that,” you scold gently, pulling back to meet his eyes. “You deserve everything, Luigi. I’m just getting started.”

You take his hand and lead him to the couch, guiding him to sit down. He winces slightly as he lowers himself onto the cushions, a strain in his back reminding him of his limitations. You notice in an instant, as perceptive as always. Your hands flutter over him as though you could soothe his pain with sheer willpower.

“Are you alright?” you ask, worry etched into your features. “How is your back? Do you need a pillow? A hot pad? Water? Anything?”

He chuckles despite himself, shaking his head. “I’m okay,” he reassures you, although the throbbing of his spine indicates otherwise. “Better now that I’m home. With you.”

You kneel between his legs, resting your hands lightly on his knees as you tilt your head up to look at him. “Bedridden for over a week and still handsome as ever,” you tease. The tone of your voice is playful, but there’s something in your expression that feels darker. He releases a shaky breath, clearing his throat subtly.

“Talent,” he replies dryly, a small smirk curving across his lips.

You laugh. It sends a pang of languish straight to his heart. It hasn’t hit him just how much he’s missed hearing that sound until now. It’s only been a few days since the last dream, but to him, it’s felt like years.

“Seriously, though,” you say, eyes softening. “How are you really feeling?”

He hesitates, smile faltering. “I’m getting there,” he admits. “It’s still difficult. The pain isn’t great, and I’m not exactly thrilled about having to take it easy for who knows how long. But…” He gazes at you, then around the room. All the effort you had put into making this moment as special as possible. All for him. “Coming home to this? To you? It helps so much more than you know.”

His heart skips three beats at once when you grin, leaning forward and resting your cheek against his knee. “Good,” you say gently. “I’m so excited to have you home. It’s so boring without you.”

He breathes out another laugh, but before he can reply, your hands slide upward. Your fingertips trace the pattern of his jeans–slowly, deliberately. He feels his breath hitch as you gently pry his legs apart, movements unhurried but undeniably calculated. There’s a lustful glint in your eye that sends a jolt of heat through him. He doesn’t find it in himself to look away, entranced by your movements.

“You’re stuck with me now,” you whisper, kissing the inside of his lower thigh gently. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Luigi’s breathing becomes heavier as you work your way up his thigh, and he opens his mouth to reply, but the words never come.

—

When he awakes, Luigi stirs in discomfort. His eyelids feel heavy as they open slowly. The emptiness of his apartment hits him like a tsunami. The silence washes over his body, drowning him. His legs feel sore, his chest throbbing as he lays motionless, staring at the ceiling.

He rubs a hand over his face, as if he could chase away the remnants of the dream, but it’s done in vain. He knows he couldn’t erase you from his mind, even if he tried.

“Are you even real?” he wonders aloud, eyes boring into the plain paper of the ceiling above.

When no one answers, he sighs. He sits up and the pain returns. In his head, in his back, in his stomach, and within his heart. His mind feels foggy.

It’s not just the dream that haunts him, but the life within it: the life where you exist, where he isn’t so fucking miserable and alone.

The day unfolds sluggishly, each hour stretching longer than the last. Reluctantly, Luigi forces himself out of bed, his body protesting every movement. He spends the morning shuffling through small, mindless tasks–folding laundry he forgot to put away, wiping down the counters in his kitchen, and clearing the clutter off his nightstand. All things that should distract him, but in reality, it does little to lift the weight pressing down on his chest.

Even as his apartment is neater and cleaner, he feels no real sense of accomplishment nor satisfaction, only a quiet, gnawing emptiness eating away at his being. His thoughts always seem to drift back to you.

By midday, he stares blankly at his computer screen, shuffling through emails he has no intention of answering. A notification from a friend briefly catches his eye, but he hesitates to respond. What could he even say? There’s nothing to say, he tells himself. The words feel distant, unreachable. Instead, he closes the laptop and sits in silence.

The hum of the fridge in the next room is the only sound that breaks the stillness. When his stomach eventually growls, he throws together a half-assed sandwich, eating it mechanically while staring at the muted television. The show he puts on–once a comedy that made him laugh–fails to hold his attention. The afternoon drags on. Luigi drifts from task to task with no real purpose, his movement more on autopilot than anything else. He tries to focus on a book he’s been meaning to finish, but the words blur together on the page.

“Fuck off,” he groans, setting it aside and leaning back into the couch he sits on. The ceiling stares back at him.

The evening settles in. He makes another half-hearted attempt at cooking dinner, though the plate ends up sitting untouched on the counter. The hours stretch endlessly, and all he can think about is how desperately he wants for the day to end. He misses you.

He needs you.

He needs to feel tethered to something real, even if it’s only fleeting.

Luigi’s eyes drift to close, the corners of the room growing hazy and darkening as he dozes off.

—

“You don’t have to push me away, Luigi.”

Something is different about this dream, Luigi notices. He can hear it in the way you say his name: unbearably frustrated, but somehow still gentle. He feels it in the strange sense of detachment that ties him to his spot before you. Although he knows this is just a dream–just another insufferably short dream–, the words manage to make him flinch, as if he’s a match struck against sandpaper. There’s a fire catching in his heart before he has the chance to smother it, and the flame is your voice.

His body reacts before he even has the chance to register that it’s your voice. He feels like a passenger in his own skin when it hits him: he’s not in control.

He feels his hands curl into fists at his sides, nails biting into the flesh of his palms. There’s a familiar tightness in his back sending sharp, burning pulses of discomfort through his body down to his legs, one he can’t simply ignore, but it seems painless in comparison to the throbbing of his stomach.

Are you two fighting? He doesn’t want to fight.

“I–” Luigi begins, but the words get caught in his throat, trapped by the weight of his shame as he gazes at your confused expression. He can’t look at you like this, so he doesn’t. He shifts his gaze away.

“You’re shutting me out again,” you say. Your voice is steady, but he hears the tinge of pain it carries. It’s familiar, it’s recognizable; a pain similar to his own. “I know you’re hurting. I know this feels absolutely frustrating and impossible to overcome, but do you really think I would leave you because of something like this?”

He hears himself release a sharp, harsh breath, turning his face away as his jaw tightens. He runs a hand over his mouth before holding his head in both hands. “It’s not as simple as that,” he hears his voice mutter. There’s a bitterness in his tone that he can see startles you from his peripheral vision. It startles him, too. He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He sees the flicker of hurt in your expression; he wants to reach for you, to tell you that he’s not in his right mind, but his hands remain motionless. He keeps talking. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me get it,” you urge him, stepping closer to him.

He’s sitting on the couch. You kneel before him and take the hands that carry his head into your own.

“Luigi,” you breathe, eyes scanning his face for a sign of understanding. “You don’t have to carry this alone. Please, let me be here for you. I want to stay.”

He can’t look at you. He trains his eyes to burn holes into the carpet rug of the apartment floor.

There’s a numbness that he feels settling in, brushing against the nape of his neck, crawling its way down his chest and curling upward to his temples. His heart churns and twists beneath his skin. He’s caught between his desire to let you in–let you hug him, console him, reassure him–and the fear of his inescapable reality: he will drag you down with him if he allows you to remain with him any longer.

I don’t want to hurt you, he thinks. The words you hear instead are: “You have no idea what it’s like.” His voice is low, tremors racking his throat. “You have no idea what it feels like to wake up, knowing I can’t be everything that you deserve.”

“Luigi,” you plead. “Luigi, you are everything to me.”

“You say that now,” he laughs bitterly, shaking his head, “but what happens when it’s too much?” He finally looks up at you. He feels the word vomit creeping up his throat. This doesn’t feel like him. He can sense it–he’s about to say something he’s going to regret, but he can’t help himself. You need to know.

“I can’t do the things I used to,” he says as a matter of fact. “I’m 24-years-old. I’ve barely lived. I can’t surf or hike or go to the gym like I did before. I can’t even fucking sit for too long without feeling like my spine might shatter. It seems like every single, miniscule movement I make fucks with the way my entire body feels. My friends are getting sick of hearing how depressed I feel–” He pauses, making eye contact with your broken gaze before continuing. “And you,” he breathes, watching your nostrils flare as tears well in your eyes. “You’ve been so fucking patient with me, baby. You’ve been so damn good, and you know, I can’t even fucking make love to you,” he hears his voice crack. He sees your eyes glint with indignance and he knows you’ll attempt to protest. He continues.

“Do you know what that’s like? To look at you and not be able to give you that part of me anymore.” His hands twitch on his lap, fists clenching and loosening.

Luigi sits in horror of himself. He wants to take the words back, to silence the voice coming from his mouth, but he can’t do anything but watch. It’s torture. Can’t he just shut up?

No, he can’t. The person in charge of his body keeps going.

“It might be a stupid thing to be worried about, but I know I can’t pleasure you like I used to. You can sit here and deny it all you want, but you and I both know ever since that stupid, fucking accident happened, everything has been different and it’s not just about the sex. You drop everything for me to go to doctor’s appointments, pick up my prescriptions, you don’t go out with your friends or see your family anymore. I mean, for fuck’s sake, baby,” he places emphasis on your name, tearing his hands out of yours to grasp your face.

His thumbs brush your cheekbones, holding your face as if it was made of porcelain. They wipe away your tears. Tears he’s responsible for prying out of you. Luigi has never hated himself more.

“Your whole life has been placed on hold for me,” he whispers. “You’ve given up so much. How am I supposed to live with myself knowing that? I’m a burden to you.”

You’re staring up at him, helpless. He knows the words hang in the air, igniting an overwhelming silence to suffocate the two of you. The thought that he’s pushed you too far, teetered your state of being over the edge, crosses his mind. He desperately hopes that isn’t the case.

As your tear-filled stare searches his face, he has a feeling it isn’t, but there’s something unreadable in your expression. There are hints of perplexion, hurt, and confusion, but something else. Something healing: tender, unrelenting love.

Slowly, you reach up and he feels your small hands over his own where they hold your face.

“Luigi, I love you,” you say softly, “I love you so much. That’s why I’m here, not out of obligation. You could never be a burden to me, Luigi. You never have been and never will be.”

He feels his hands falter, dropping from your face as his shoulders sag. I believe you, he wants to scream out. His body won’t allow him to. There’s doubt that lingers in the back of his mind–doubt he refuses to claim as his own.

For a moment, Luigi thinks his body will finally relent. That, by some kind of miracle, he’ll collapse into you and let the heat of your body consume his own. But instead, he feels himself pull away from you. His hands fall completely, weight shifting as he pushes himself up from the couch. His legs feel as heavy as ever, but they move him away anyway, carrying him to the door.

“What are you doing?” he hears your voice rise, panicked. “Luigi–where are you going? Please, let’s talk about this.”

He hears the steps of your feet against the cold, wood floor, the quick catch in your breath as you follow after him.

Stop, Luigi pleads. Turn around. Don’t do this.

When Luigi realizes he doesn’t, a scream builds in his chest, desperate to escape. He feels his jaw tighten, shoulders tense, and his steps are automatic. Then, you do something that makes him falter–you throw your arms around him, wrapping yourself tightly against his back. Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt to anchor yourself to him, refusing to let go.

He freezes as he feels the warmth of your body pressed to his, your trembling breath against his shoulder.

“Please,” you beg, voice raw and breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He feels it then: a tender, desperate kiss pressed between his shoulder blades. The warmth of it burns through the layers of fabric resting on his back, searing into his skin like a brand. Your lips linger there, trembling, and it feels as though you’re willing him to stay. He feels every ounce of love and hope that you’ve poured into a single touch.

This is what you want, he hears his own voice urging him to accept it. To stay. This is what you need. Don’t let her go. He feels nauseated when his hands reach down and pry yours from his torso. His movements are gentle but firm. To Luigi, it feels like the cruelest betrayal. He’s a prisoner in his own skin.

“I can’t make you happy anymore, (Name).” Your name rolls off his tongue without him even having to think about it. Luigi can feel defeat ruminating in his soul, causing him to tremble. He finally knows your name and it’s come to him in the worst way possible. It’s wrong, it’s unfair. He can do absolutely nothing to console you or wipe away the tears that continue to spill from your cheeks because his asshole body won’t let him. His voice sounds muffled, distorted and distant, yet unmistakably his own. The words spill out like they belong to someone else. He doesn’t recognize himself. “This isn’t the life you deserve.”

He steps forward, heading for the door, slipping out of your grasp completely. He misses your warmth already. Your arms fall to your sides. He feels a sense of relief that isn’t his own wash over him when you don’t move to follow him, but an overwhelming sense of grief overcomes him.

“Luigi,” he hears you call out to him.

Stop.

His legs halt with his hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t dare to look back.

“I’ve never cared about having a perfect life,” he hears you say, voice mirroring his own defeat. “Ever since I met you, I,” you pause to release a shaky breath, voice cracking with each syllable you verbalize. “All I’ve ever wanted is you.”

Luigi’s heart plummets, the weight of your words settling heavily in his chest.

Luigi has never loved anyone the way he has learned to love you. It was ridiculous of him to believe he could love someone the way he loves you–relentlessly, unconditionally, and all-consuming–without consequence.

The phrase still punctures him right to the core, like a knife being plunged into him, over and over. The tremble in your voice, your unmistakable sincerity, cuts him deeper than any pain he’s ever known. All Luigi truly wants to do is turn around.

To fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, to tell you you’re everything he’s never known that he’s always wanted.

But his fingers only tighten around the doorknob, legs trembling as they continue to push him forward. Slowly, he pulls the door open. The hinges creak softly, the sound piercing through your shared silence.

Once he steps into the threshold, the warmth of the room behind him–your warmth–slips away, right between his fingers. The cool air of the hallway bites at his skin, but it’s nothing compared to the chill in his chest. He feels himself hesitate, shoulders falling under the heaviness of it all.

Say something. Anything. He screams at himself, but his lips remain shut.

He closes the door behind him. When the latch clicks gently, its sound feels deafening. A symbol of the finality of his choice. He only stands for a moment, just as he did before, when the warmth of your love came over his body. He ruminates in the cold. He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding when the stifled sound of your muffled sobs bleeds through the wood of the door behind him.

He nearly breaks, right then and there. Nearly.

He turns and wills himself to walk down the hallway, each of his steps feeling heavier than the last. The fluorescent lights above cast long, harsh shadows upon him, but he pays them no mind. He ignores his vision blurring, head spinning with grief, helplessness, and anger. Your words only ring in his ears, growing louder with every echo of his heels.

All I’ve ever wanted is you.

It becomes a chant in his head–a mantra playing on a constant, never ending loop in his mind. Everything else becomes drowned out. He feels his fist clench at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms as if the pain might awake him. It doesn’t. He reaches the elevator, feet dragging. He presses the button, the weak ding of the elevator arriving and pulling him from his haze.

The doors slide open, he steps inside. The metallic chill of the space envelops him. The light of the elevator reflects off its stainless steel walls, making him feel small.

He reaches for the button for his floor but hesitates, hand overing over the button, mid-air.

Don’t.

He does anyway. He presses it with the sharp exhale through his nose.

Just before the doors slide shut, Luigi feels his legs finally give out, and he leans against the wall. His head falls back as he stares up at the metal ceiling. His chest heaves, breathing uneven, legs numb, vision blurring even further.

All I’ve ever wanted is you.

It begins before he processes what happens. The tears fall from his eyes quicker than he can manage to wipe them away. Luigi heaves a gut-wrenching sob as the pain in his chest blooms. His body shakes with the force of his anguish, raw and irrepressible.

As the elevator doors close with a dull thud, he’s finally able to scream.

The dream shatters.

—

When Luigi wakes, the tears are already falling, hot and heavy against his cheeks, flooding his ears. His chest wracks his being with silent sobs. His fingers brush against his damp face as if trying to wipe away the echoes of your voice and leave them behind him. But it doesn’t leave him. He has a feeling it never will.

He lays there for what feels like hours, unmoving. He feels like a corpse.

It takes him longer than he would like to admit to realize something is missing. The realization doesn’t hit him until later that evening, when he’s standing under the steady hot stream of the shower. The water pelts his skin, but does nothing to soothe the ache of his entire body. He runs a hand through his curly, wet locks. He tries to scrub away the fog in his mind, scrub you away, but it’s no use. The fog and the memory of you cling to him like a second skin.

He steps out of the shower, towel tied loosely around his waist, he stops in front of the mirror. The steam blurs his reflection, so he wipes away the condensation of the mirror when something catches his eye in its reflection. In another mirror behind him, there’s the trace of a mole on his back, faint.

A mole on his back, in the exact same place you had kissed in his dream. He freezes as the fragments of the dream rush back to him.

The name–your name. It was there, in that horrendous God-awful dream, vivid and sharp. It echoed in his mind just moments ago. Now, it’s slipped away from him, gone as quickly as it came. It’s there, on the tip of his tongue, he can feel it but he just can’t remember. The harder he tries to hold on to it, the faster it disappears and fades farther away. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against the glass of his mirror, and exhales shakily.

You were gone.

After that, so were the dreams.

Days without dreams blurred into weeks. The dreams that had once been a cruel comfort had abandoned him entirely. The rest of his life drags on in a haze of monotony, each day more dreary than the last. He wakes up, gets himself out of the house, comes home, and repeats the cycle.

There’s an emptiness gnawing at him from the inside out.

The flowers of the corner stand he passes when he leaves the house used to catch his eye–the bright daffodils and carnations bursting with life–but now, they’re dull. The colors of their petals muted by the overcast sky of New York. Luigi finds himself stopping to stare at times, hands buried in the pockets of his coat. He gazes at them as if they will remind him of something, anything. They don’t.

When the silence of his apartment is insufferable, Luigi goes out to eat instead of cooking at home. Yet, every coffee he orders tastes bitter, no matter how much sugar he adds, and every piece of food he shoves into his mouth leaves a bland aftertaste in his mouth.

Occasionally, his friends text or call, asking him to meet up. He finds himself declining more often than not. It’s not that he doesn’t care, really, it’s not. It’s simply because he can’t find the energy to fake being “okay.” On the rare instance that he does go, however, he finds that their laughter and lighthearted conversations–that should be comforting–feel static in his ears. So, he sits silently, nursing a drink he can’t muster the willpower to finish.

He takes midnight strolls to avoid resting, wandering the city aimlessly. He lets the cold air penetrate his skin as he searches for something he can’t name. Perhaps a purpose, maybe a sign, an indicator of your presence. Anything to fill the empty pit in his stomach that has grown every day since you’ve been gone. It all feels so futile.

When Luigi is home, the clock ticks loudly. The hum of the fridge grates on his nerves. The TV drowns out his silence, but the dialogue of the shows he plays are nothing but meaningless background noise.

The ache in his chest persists.

—

Months pass before Luigi begins to convince himself he is moving on. Slowly, reluctantly, but moving on nonetheless. The dreams never returned, and with them, the constant emptiness in his gut that made him feel hollow. The name–the one he couldn’t bring himself to remember–had grown quieter in his mind.

His days filled with monotonous routines ground him. Errands, nights out with friends, light exercise, reading helps him from thinking about you for too long. He’s forced himself to return texts more regularly, forcing himself to engage.

He tells himself it’s progress. That he’s healing, maybe even healed completely. Deep down, he knows better.

The ache hasn’t disappeared, but he’s learned to live with it. It’s only buried itself deeper, settling into a quiet part of his mind he tries not to pay any mind to. Though, it sometimes resurfaces in unexpected ways: in the warmth of sunlight creeping through his blinds or in seeing signs with bright, colorful lettering as he walks through his neighborhood. Small things. Things that should be insignificant to him but now, because of you, aren’t.

Still, Luigi tells himself it’s enough–that the progress he’s made, however small or hollow it feels, is better than being stuck. For a while, it is. He believes it.

Until he sees you.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the kind he’s found usually blur into the rest. Luigi wanders the streets without purpose, allowing his legs to move him along wherever they please. Then, through the fog of his rumination, you appear.

You sit in a coffee shop, your head bent over a book, a mug of coffee settled beside your hand on the table. The gentle glow of the afternoon light spills through the window and catches in your hair. Just like in his dreams.

For a moment, the world stops and all Luigi can do is stand there, across the street, frozen on the sidewalk, staring like a deer caught in headlights.

It was you–unmistakably, indubitably you.

His breath hitches. He wants to look away; convince himself this is some cruel trick of his imagination. He can’t. There’s no mistaking you. The gentle curve of your face, the way your lips press together in concentration as you turn a page. He could cry.

Without realizing it, his legs begin to move, carrying him across the street, weaving through the bustling crowd.

The bell above the coffee shop door chimes as he steps inside. The cheerful, bright sound cuts through the muffled conversations and clinking dishes of the shop.

It’s fate, his heart says. The universe rings a bell, just for him, to tell him this is exactly where he needs to be.

You look up at the sound, your eyes scanning the room briefly before they land on him. Everything else fades away. The noisy hum of the coffee shop fades to a distant murmur, the busy streets outside a blur of motion he can no longer see. All that exists is you.

Your eyes lock onto his, your expression shifting into something resembling recognition–or maybe confusion. But then your lips part slightly, and the smallest hint of a smile forms as your eyes soften. The smile he’s seen so many times in his dreams, now real. He can feel it: that familiar flick of a flame igniting itself in his heart, spreading across the space between you.

Luigi steps closer, the weight he had been carrying on his back for weeks giving way to something lighter. He focuses on making his way to you without his legs giving out, heart thrumming against his ribcage like a trapped animal.

As he reaches your table, you close your book gently, placing it on the table beside your coffee. Your head titles slightly, eyes never leaving his as the faint smile on your lips grows just a little wider. His chest tightens, his mind racing to find the words he’s always wanted to say to you, but now that you’re here–now that you’re real–they vanish.

Once he’s before you, he stops stupidly. You stare up at him, expectantly.

What does he say now that you’re here? Do you even know who he is? He must look like such a freak right now, but still, you manage to look as beautiful as ever–even more so in person.

“Hi,” your voice rips him away from his thoughts. The single word carries more familiarity than he thought possible.

His throat tightens as he swallows, sound barely audible over the pounding in his ears. His lips part, and for a moment, nothing comes out. He panics but masks it when he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, managing to find his voice.

“Hi,” he whispers breathlessly.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask gently.

He tenses. The truth gnaws at him. You don’t recognize him, don’t feel the connection he had spent months dreaming about. The world feels like it’s been tilted on its axis. He stares at you, breath catching in his lungs, unable to comprehend the realness of it all. Every detail of you: from the way the light frames your face to the soft curve of your lips, all down to the bridge of your nose. Every detail of your figure he had spent all those weeks dreaming about, every part of you he memorized with meticulous care, it’s all here. He can’t look away, can’t tell himself it’s an illusion.

“I,” his voice comes out softer than he expects. He clears his throat gently, to steady himself as he speaks. “My name is Luigi,” he says. “I just wanted to say…” He pauses, looking you over from head to toe. It’s you. The girl of his dreams. “How beautiful I think you are,” he breathes.

He watches your confusion melt into bashfulness. Your face quickly softens into a flustered smile.

“Oh,” you say, heat blossoming in your cheeks. “Thank you so much, Luigi. That’s very sweet of you.” A pause before you laugh–a melodic, gorgeous sound. “I’m (Name).”

“(Name),” he repeats. It tastes sweet on his tongue. It feels good, it feels right. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, laughing once more. Luigi knows at that moment, he’d dedicate himself to making you laugh for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

He lets out a small, shaky laugh of his own, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I should let you get back to your book,” he says, gesturing awkwardly toward the table. He forces a smile and takes a step back. “That was really all I wanted to tell you.”

What a lie, but you don’t recognize him. What more can he do?

“It was nice meeting you, (Name),” he says gently, and he sees your mouth open to speak, but it feels like too much.

Before you say anything, he turns to leave, moving for the door. The bell above it chimes as he prepares to step out. Just as he reaches the threshold, your voice stops him.

“Luigi?”

This feels like deja vu. He makes sure to turn this time, though, meeting your gaze. He watches you hesitate slightly, before gesturing to the chair across from you.

“Would you like to join me?”

Luigi stares at you, his mind struggling to process what you’ve just said. Then, something shifts within him, just as it did all those months ago as he laid in bed, before the first dream had ever occurred. It eases the ache that has lingered for so long.

He nods, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he takes a step back toward you. He sits in the seat across from you and you smile once more. He is whole.

For the first time in his life, Luigi feels the fullness of a love that is unwavering. He has found everything he never knew he needed, and it’s more beautiful than he ever could have imagined.

#alexa play everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams #i played this on loop for hours writing the ending scene #luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #angst #soulmate au #past lovers #real person fiction #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione angst #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn #mrsmangiwrks #fanfiction #free luigi

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vacantfields · 7 months ago

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Part one

🌘🌟

You couldn't believe your eyes, your ears, your whole being. Moon, Valentin's Moon, was here and out. "You're... but Vally said-" You started to blurt out, but a soft chuckle stopped your sentence from continuing. "Hm. 'Vally' claims a lot of things, my little popcorn. We are a very... old model, but our chips aren't easily destroyed. Sun and I have been there the whole time." Moon said as his clawed thumbs tenderly traced over your cheekbones, your face still resting in his hold.

"But then why are you guys first showing signs of existing now?" You asked with a bit of anger in your tone, but you made no move to get out of his hold. Your eyes were firmly on his. Moon grinned. "So quick to his defense, aren't you, my lovely cheese fry." The tall animatronic laughed, but it was soft and gentle, and maybe even a bit of hurt could be heard. "We couldn't get out due to... the trauma we all dealt with. Valentin shut us out unintentionally during the whole fire back then." You noticed that his eye was glazed over a bit, so you assumed it meant he was checking on the others in their shared head.

You part your lips when Moon doesn't continue and move out of his hold and gently hold his hands in your small human ones. "Moon..." You speak softly, making the animatronic focus back on you. "I can't imagine how all of this feels. I... Valentin has told me how hurt and how lonely he was for all these years and..." you sigh but can't help a small smile form on your lips when you look down at your connected hands and see Moon's thumbs in a slightly more maroon like shade showing that Valentin was just as active as Moon was. You squeeze their hands.

"... Well, I know the battle isn't over with all the trauma." You say carefully. "But I'm glad you guys at least have each other now and-" You feel a finger against your lips and look up at Moon, who's grinning softly. "You don't have to be a therapist for us, my darling starfish. It's alright." You can't help but giggle.

"I'm sorry-" You start, but Moon holds his free hand up to stop you, and you can tell his grin is mischievous.

"Oh, I thought you were-," he speaks your name playfully. "Not 'Sorry,' we are sorry we were calling you something else!" He chirps.

You roll your eyes and smile before you push him away from you. "You suck at jokes as well, I see." Moon grins again. "You mean you hear? I didn't know you could see jokes-" You bark out a burst of laughter.

Moon snickers.

(More of the sillies!!)

#dca fandom #moon #Moon x y/n #moon x yn #Moon x reader #Vmoon xreader #vmoon x yn #vmoon x y/n #silly #noah writing #dca oc #fnaf oc #writing

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n0n3xsisting · 10 days ago

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TDOPOM

Heyy guys so I don't like how I write now sooo this story might be different

Noah Sebastian x Fem!reader

The heavy bass from the afterparty still echoed faintly in your ears, but the hotel room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. You stood near the window, the city lights sprawling beneath you, your camera resting against your chest. The room felt colder than it should’ve, but maybe that was just you.

Behind you, Noah sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His hair fell forward, covering his face, but you could feel the weight of his thoughts pressing into the space between you.

“You’re quiet,” you said softly, your voice breaking the stillness.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he dragged a hand through his hair and let out a sigh that sounded more like a resignation than relief. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He glanced up at you, his dark eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “Everything.”

You nodded, turning back to the window. You didn’t push for more. With Noah, you’d learned to wait. He always came to you when he was ready, spilling his thoughts like floodwater once the dam cracked.

But tonight felt different.

“You ever feel like…” he started, his voice trailing off. “Like you’re holding on to something that’s already gone?”

The question hit you harder than you expected. Your fingers tightened around your camera strap, the familiar weight grounding you. “Sometimes,” you admitted. “Why?”

He stood, the bed creaking under his weight, and crossed the room until he was behind you. You could see his reflection in the glass, blurred and ghostlike.

“I don’t know,” he said, but the lie was obvious.

You turned to face him, the camera swinging against your hip. “Noah.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away. The neon lights from the city bathed his face in shades of red and blue, painting him in a way that was almost too fitting. “It’s just… us,” he said finally. “This.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air growing heavier. “What about us?”

He met your eyes then, and the raw emotion in his gaze nearly broke you. “We’re killing each other,” he said. “Slowly. Quietly. Every time we fight, every time we leave things unsaid…” He shook his head. “I don’t know if we’re saving each other or dragging each other down.”

His words hung in the air like a verdict.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I thought…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I thought we were okay.”

“So did I,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The admission cut deep.

You looked away, your eyes falling to the floor. The carpet was worn, the patterns faded from years of use. It felt wrong to be standing here, in this room, having this conversation.

“Noah, if you—”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “But I don’t know how to keep you, either.”

The honesty in his voice was both comforting and devastating. You felt your resolve cracking, the walls you’d built around yourself crumbling like sandcastles against the tide.

“Noah,” you said again, softer this time.

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid you’d pull away. But you didn’t.

“You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice steady now. “But I don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself.”

“You’re not,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “If anything, you’re the one thing keeping me sane.”

His lips quirked into a sad smile. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing about you.”

The tension between you was palpable, a fragile thread stretched too thin. You could feel the weight of every unspoken word, every unresolved fight, every stolen moment of happiness that felt more like a reprieve than a victory.

“I don’t want to let this go,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to let you go.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he took your hand in his, his grip firm but not demanding. “Then don’t,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t an apology. But it was enough.

The city lights continued to flicker outside, oblivious to the storm brewing inside the room. But for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Whatever this was—whatever you and Noah were—it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real.

And for now, that was enough.

I don't know how I feel about this, so let me know what you think! Requests are open!!!

#noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #x yn #Spotify

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kiefromgingerland · 8 days ago

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callsigns-haze · 6 months ago

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Lean On

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler Owens, an avid storm chaser, takes his friends Javi and Kate to meet his estranged wife YN and their son Noah, rekindling old tensions. During a fierce tornado, they seek refuge in a cinema, where Tyler and YN rediscover their love amidst the chaos. YN begs Tyler to never leave again, and he promises to stay, solidifying their connection he broke all those years back.

Warnings: Natural Disasters, Family Conflict, Romantic Intimacy, Strong Language

A/n: I only watched twisters and I just had too

Word count: 8,525 (holy fucking shit)

Tyler Owens had always been a free spirit, driven by an obsession that had gripped him since childhood: tornadoes. The power, the unpredictability, the sheer force of nature—it all fascinated him. He’d dedicated his life to chasing them, studying them, understanding their every whim and fury. Over the years, he’d assembled a crew, a family of sorts, who shared his passion and drive. Among them were Javi and Kate, friends and fellow storm chasers who had been by his side for two years.

It was a rare sunny day, with the sky an unbroken canvas of blue, that Tyler decided his team deserved a break. The adrenaline, the sleepless nights, the constant state of readiness—they needed a holiday from the storms, if only for a little while. The rest of the crew scattered to their own respites, but Javi and Kate chose to stay with Tyler, curious about his plans.

The three of them piled into Tyler’s truck, a rugged beast of a vehicle that had weathered countless storms. As the tires crunched over gravel and onto the open road, Kate glanced over at Tyler, who was focused on the horizon, his eyes alight with a spark that was hard to ignore.

"Where are we going, Tyler?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Tyler's lips curled into a mysterious smile. "I want you to meet my family."

Javi, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward. "Like your mom and brother or something?" he asked.

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "Something better."

They drove for hours, the landscape changing from the bustling outskirts of the city to the serene vastness of the countryside. The sky, which had been clear and calm, began to change, dark clouds rolling in from the distance. It was a sight all too familiar to the trio, but this time, there was no urgency, no race against time. They were simply observers.

Eventually, Tyler turned off the main road, guiding the truck down a narrow path that led to a quaint, rustic bar. The sign above the entrance read "The Tipsy," and it depicted a tornado with two people dancing inside it.

Javi raised an eyebrow as he read the sign. "What are we doing here?"

Tyler smiled enigmatically. "You'll have to wait and find out."

He led them inside, the wooden door creaking as they entered. The interior was warm and inviting, with low lighting casting a cozy glow over the patrons scattered around the bar. A jukebox played soft country tunes in the corner, and the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and beer.

Tyler guided them to a booth near the back, the plush seats a welcome comfort after their long drive. As they settled in, Tyler glanced around the room, his expression one of contentment and nostalgia.

Kate looked at him expectantly. "So, what’s the big surprise?"

Tyler leaned back, a playful glint in his eye. "Just wait. It’ll be worth it."

Tyler’s eyes perked up from the booth, drawing the attention of Javi and Kate. They followed his gaze and noticed a beautiful woman behind the bar. She was effortlessly juggling bottles with perfection, her cowboy hat slightly tilted, her white tank top and jeans hugging her figure, and a pair of worn cowboy boots completing her look. Despite the bar being loud and overcrowded, it was clear who had captured Tyler's attention.

With a blink of an eye, she noticed him too. Her hands paused mid-juggle, and she delicately slammed a rag onto the bar before setting the bottles down. She made her way over to their booth, her expression a mix of surprise and something unreadable.

Tyler quickly smirked at her, the familiar gesture laden with unspoken words.

"You're finally here to see your son," she said, her voice carrying over the din of the bar, stunning both Kate and Javi into silence.

Tyler leaned back, his smirk unfaltering. "Javi, Kate, this is—"

"Your wife?" Kate interrupted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

The woman cut him off coldly. "I left you."

Tyler's smirk hardened slightly. "You threw a shoe and your rings at me. You never signed any papers."

A tense silence hung in the air, the lively noise of the bar feeling oddly distant as Kate and Javi exchanged bewildered looks. The woman’s eyes flashed with something fiery and unresolved, and Tyler’s demeanour remained unyielding, the confrontation a clear indication of a long-standing, complex history.

"This is YN," Tyler finally said, his voice softer but firm. "She’s my wife."

"Ex-wife," YN corrected, though her voice lacked the finality the words should have carried.

The revelation settled over Javi and Kate like a storm cloud, both of them struggling to process this unexpected twist. The woman standing before them was more than just a bartender; she was a pivotal piece of Tyler’s life that he had kept hidden until now.

"Well," Javi said, breaking the silence with a forced chuckle, "this just got interesting."

Kate nodded, her gaze flicking between Tyler and YN, trying to piece together the story that lay between them.

Tyler held YN’s gaze, his eyes conveying a mix of regret and determination. "I’m here now. We’ve got things to talk about."

YN crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I’m going to get Noah," she said, turning sharply on her heel and heading toward the back of the bar.

Tyler watched her go, his face softening as he turned back to Kate and Javi. "I wanted you guys to meet my family."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to escape her. Javi simply shook his head, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

The tension was palpable, but beneath it all was a thread of something more—an unfinished story, a connection that hadn’t yet been severed, no matter how frayed it had become.

As the noise of the bar began to filter back in, the dynamic between the four of them had shifted irrevocably. The past had resurfaced, bringing with it questions, emotions, and unresolved conflicts that would need to be addressed.

The noise of the bar buzzed around them, but Tyler, Javi, and Kate were lost in their own thoughts, processing the revelation and the tension that had just unfolded. Moments later, the door to the back of the bar swung open, and a small figure came running out.

Seven-year-old Noah, with tousled hair and bright eyes, darted through the crowd. His face lit up with pure joy and disbelief as he spotted Tyler. "Dad!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

Tyler’s eyes softened, and he stood up just in time to catch Noah as he launched himself into his arms. Tyler engulfed his son in a big hug, lifting him off the ground as he held him tightly. The boy’s arms wrapped around his father’s neck, holding on as if he were afraid to let go.

"I can't believe you're here, Dad!" Noah exclaimed, his voice muffled against Tyler’s shoulder. He pulled back just enough to look at his father’s face, his eyes wide with happiness and surprise.

Tyler chuckled, ruffling Noah’s hair. "Of course I’m here, buddy. I’ve missed you."

Javi and Kate watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, their earlier confusion and tension melting away in the face of Noah's obvious delight. Kate’s eyes misted over as she saw the unfiltered joy on Noah’s face, while Javi couldn’t help but smile at the touching scene.

Noah glanced over at Javi and Kate, his curiosity piqued. "Who are they, Dad?" he asked, still clinging to Tyler.

Tyler gently set Noah down, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "These are my friends, Javi and Kate. They’re like family to me."

Noah looked at them with wide eyes, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hey, Noah," Javi said warmly, giving a little wave. "Nice to meet you, buddy."

Kate crouched down to Noah’s level, her smile gentle and reassuring. "Hi, Noah. It’s great to meet you."

Noah beamed at that, clearly pleased. He looked back up at Tyler, his face serious for a moment. "Are you staying this time, Dad?"

Tyler’s expression grew solemn as he met his son’s gaze. "I’m here now, Noah. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I promise I’m not going anywhere."

From the bar, YN watched the reunion with a mix of emotions, her hands resting on her hips. The sight of Noah so happy to see his father softened her stern demeanour, though there was still a guarded look in her eyes.

"Why don’t we all sit down and catch up?" Tyler suggested, his voice gentle as he glanced at YN.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But remember, this doesn’t change anything," she said, though the edge in her voice was less sharp than before.

The initial excitement of the reunion began to settle, and Tyler looked at YN with a mix of hope and determination. "We’re down here for a week," he said, his voice steady. "Would it be alright if I took Noah to stay with me?"

YN’s eyes narrowed slightly, her protective instincts kicking in. "Stay with you? In some lousy motel room?" she asked, her tone dripping with scepticism.

Javi and Kate exchanged glances, noting how Noah seemed accustomed to his parents' tension. He watched the exchange quietly, his small hands clutching the edge of the table.

Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t have anywhere else to bring him for the night," he admitted.

Noah looked up at his mom, his eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Mom. Can Dad and his friends stay with us?"

YN hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. "Noah, you have your big soccer camp in a different state tomorrow," she reminded him, her voice gentle but firm.

Tyler's eyes widened in surprise. "Soccer camp? I didn’t know you played soccer, buddy."

YN’s expression hardened again, her eyes flashing with irritation. "If you’d been around, you’d know," she snapped.

A moment of heavy silence passed between them before YN sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine," she said, her tone resigned. "You can stay at the house for the week. But I’m serious, Tyler—if you touch anything, I’ll cut your balls off."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to Tyler. "I’ve got to wrap up here. I’ll be home soon."

Tyler took the keys, his expression a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thanks, YN. I promise we’ll be respectful."

Noah's face lit up with a smile, and he hugged his mom tightly. "Thank you, Mom!"

YN’s stern expression softened as she hugged Noah back, brushing a hand through his hair. "Go on, get your stuff together. We’ll leave in a bit."

Noah nodded eagerly and dashed off toward the back of the bar, excitement evident in his every step.

Tyler turned to Javi and Kate, who were still absorbing the unexpected developments. "Looks like we have a place to stay," he said with a small smile.

Javi chuckled, shaking his head. "This is not what I expected when we set out today."

Kate nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "No, but it’s… interesting. I think it’s good for you, Tyler."

YN glanced back at them, her expression softening slightly. "You three make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be done soon, and then we can head home."

As the night wore on, the bar gradually began to thin out. YN moved with practiced efficiency, announcing last call and starting to kick out the lingering patrons, both men and women, who had stayed for one last drink. The bar's noise ebbed as people shuffled out, some grumbling, others laughing, but all eventually making their way to the door.

Tyler, Javi, and Kate watched as YN’s no-nonsense approach cleared the room. She pulled down the metal protectors over the windows, the loud clanging echoing through the now quiet bar, locking them from the inside. Meanwhile, Noah sat with his dad, chattering about school and his friends, filling Tyler in on all the little details he had missed.

YN made her way around the bar, ensuring everything was locked up securely. She checked the register, wiped down the counter, and flipped off the neon lights, leaving only the dim overhead bulbs casting a soft glow over the room. Finally, she approached the booth where Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah sat.

"Alright, time to go," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. She looked down at Noah, a question in her eyes. "Are you driving back with me or your dad?"

Noah glanced up at Tyler, his eyes full of hope. "Can I go with Dad, Mom? Please?"

YN hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But you stay close to him, okay?"

Noah nodded eagerly, bouncing off the booth and grabbing his dad's hand. Tyler smiled, a wave of relief washing over him.

The group stood and followed YN to the front of the bar. She unlocked the door, the cool night air rushing in as they stepped outside. Tyler glanced back, taking in the now quiet bar with a sense of nostalgia.

YN stepped out after them, locking the door and pulling it shut with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the night. "You better take care of him," she said, her voice a mix of warning and something softer, something almost hopeful.

Tyler nodded. "I will."

She gave a small, almost imperceptible smile before turning to Noah. "I'll see you at home, kiddo. Behave for your dad, okay?"

Noah hugged her tightly. "I will, Mom. I promise."

With that, YN got into her car, the engine roaring to life as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tyler, Javi, Kate, and Noah watched her go, the taillights disappearing into the night.

Tyler looked down at Noah, who was beaming up at him. "Ready to go home, buddy?"

Noah nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Let's go!"

As they drove through the quiet streets, the hum of the truck’s engine filled the space with a comforting rhythm. Noah, sitting in the front seat in front of Tyler and Kate, couldn’t contain his excitement. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he turned to Kate and Javi, eager to share the details of his upcoming soccer camp.

“I can’t wait for the soccer camp tomorrow!” Noah said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

Kate, sitting behind him, smiled warmly. “That sounds amazing, Noah. What’s so special about this camp?”

Noah’s face lit up even more as he spoke. “It’s a big camp where lots of kids from different places come to learn new soccer skills and play games. There’s even gonna be a mini-tournament at the end!”

Javi, sitting in the backseat, leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Wow, that sounds like a blast! Do you play a lot of soccer at school too?”

“Yeah!” Noah replied eagerly. “I’m on the school team, and we’ve been practicing a lot. This camp is going to be so cool because I’ll get to learn from really good coaches and play with kids from other schools.”

Tyler glanced at Noah, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds like you’ve been working hard. I’m really proud of you, Noah.”

Noah’s smile widened at his dad’s praise. “Thanks, Dad! And guess what? My Uncle Matt is bringing me down to the camp tomorrow afternoon.”

Javi raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle?”

“Yeah,” Noah nodded vigorously. “He’s my mom’s brother. He lives a few hours away, but he’s coming to pick me up and drive me to the camp. I haven’t seen him in ages, and he promised he’d take me for ice cream on the way.”

Kate looked impressed. “That sounds like a lot of fun. It must be nice to have family supporting you.”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it is! Uncle Matt always makes things fun. He even used to play soccer with Mom when they were kids.”

Tyler’s gaze softened as he listened to Noah’s excitement. “I’m glad you’re so excited about the camp.”

Noah nodded, his eyes shining with anticipation. “I am! And I’m really happy you’re here, Dad. I can’t wait to tell you all about it when I get back.”

Tyler glanced at Javi and Kate, sharing a look that conveyed both appreciation and a renewed sense of purpose. This week was more than just a break; it was a chance to reconnect with his son, to be a part of his life in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

The truck rumbled up the gravel driveway, and as the headlights illuminated the house, the group caught their first glimpse of Noah's home. It was a charming ranch-style house, with a wide, welcoming front porch that extended across the front. The house had a warm, rustic appeal, its wooden siding painted a soft, weathered beige that blended harmoniously with the surrounding landscape. The wind, which had picked up slightly, rustled through the tall grass that framed the property, adding to the serene yet lively atmosphere.

As Tyler, Kate, and Javi stepped out of the truck, they were immediately met with the enthusiastic barking of Noah’s two German Shepherds. The dogs, bounding with energy, leaped toward them, their barks echoing in the cool evening air. Their fur was sleek and shiny, and their eyes glinted with excitement as they approached.

Javi laughed, holding his hands up in a gesture of friendly surrender. “Wow, those dogs really know how to make an entrance!”

Noah, already bursting with excitement, unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the truck. He raced across the driveway, his footsteps quick and light as he ran toward the porch. The dogs, recognizing him instantly, turned their attention away from the newcomers and bounded after Noah, their tails wagging furiously.

Tyler and Kate watched with smiles as Noah reached the porch and threw himself into his mother’s arms. YN, standing on the porch with a warm smile, embraced Noah tightly, her expression softening as she held him close. The sight of the mother and son reunion was heart-warming, a clear sign of the strong bond they shared despite the complications.

Kate nudged Tyler gently, a playful glint in her eyes. “You know, the resemblance really proves Noah is definitely your child. Look at him, he’s got your energy.”

Tyler chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

As YN set Noah down, she looked up and offered a polite nod to Kate and Javi, her demeanour shifting to one of friendly hospitality. “Welcome to our home, Kate, Javi. It’s good to have you here.”

“Thanks for having us,” Kate replied warmly, returning YN’s smile. “Your place is beautiful.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting us stay,” Javi added, his tone appreciative.

YN's smile faded slightly as her gaze shifted to Tyler, her expression turning cold. “Let’s get your bags inside,” she said, her tone losing its warmth. “I’ll show you to the guest rooms.”

Tyler, feeling the chill in her voice, nodded. “Thanks, YN.”

They began unloading their bags from the truck, the dogs playfully nipping at their heels. The house, with its wide front porch and sprawling lawn, had a comfortable, lived-in feel. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city and the more impersonal surroundings Tyler was used to.

Once the bags were all gathered, they followed YN and Noah into the house. The interior was cozy, with warm wooden floors, rustic furniture, and an inviting atmosphere. YN led them through the front door, and the scent of home-cooked meals and fresh pine greeted them.

Noah, holding onto his mom’s hand, turned to Tyler with a big smile. “Come on, Dad! I want to show you my room!”

YN’s expression softened as she looked at her son’s excitement but remained cool towards Tyler. “Alright, Noah. Let’s get your dad and his friends settled first.”

She led them down a hallway, pointing out rooms as they went. “Kate, Javi, you’ll be in here,” she said, opening the door to a charming guest room. “There are fresh towels in the closet and extra blankets if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, her smile appreciative. Javi nodded in agreement, taking in the room with a grateful glance.

YN then turned to Tyler, her demeanour growing even colder. “Tyler, you’ll be in this room,” she said, opening the door to a smaller but comfortable room. “If you need anything, just ask.”

Tyler placed his bag inside, feeling the weight of the tension between them. “Thanks, YN,” he said quietly.

YN didn’t respond immediately, instead turning her attention to Noah. “Noah, why don’t you show your dad around while I finish up a few things?”

Noah nodded eagerly, grabbing Tyler’s hand. “Come on, Dad! I can’t wait to show you everything!”

Tyler allowed himself to be led down the hall, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. As he looked back, he saw YN watching them, her expression a complicated mix of emotions.

The late evening had settled into a calm, quiet stillness, the only sounds being the gentle creaking of the old ranch house and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. After a full day, Tyler had just put Noah to bed, reading him a story and watching as his son’s eyes grew heavy with sleep. Satisfied that Noah was comfortably settled, he quietly exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Down the hall, the dim light of the kitchen spilled into the hallway, casting a warm, subdued glow. Tyler walked towards it, curious. As he reached the kitchen, he saw YN packing a bag on the table, her movements deliberate and methodical. She was gathering Noah’s football boots, kit, and other essentials, making sure everything was in place for the big soccer camp.

YN didn’t notice Tyler at first, her focus entirely on her task. The soft light highlighted the determined set of her jaw and the slight furrow of concentration on her brow. Tyler stood at the threshold for a moment, taking in the scene, before he cleared his throat gently to announce his presence.

YN looked up, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “He’s asleep?” she asked, her voice steady but quiet.

Tyler nodded, stepping into the kitchen. “Yeah, he’s out like a light. I read him one of his favourite stories.”

YN gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and continued packing. “He always loved bedtime stories. Especially the ones about tornadoes.”

Tyler watched her for a moment, then spoke softly. “You’re packing his bag for the camp?”

“Yes,” YN replied curtly, not looking up. “He’s got a lot to take with him, and I want to make sure he has everything he needs or more.”

Tyler moved a little closer, his gaze following her hands as she carefully folded Noah’s kit and placed it into the bag. “Can I help?”

YN paused, her hands still for a moment, then she sighed softly. “Sure. You can check if his water bottle is in the fridge. He’ll need that filled and ready.”

Tyler nodded, grateful for even this small opportunity to assist. He walked over to the fridge, retrieving the water bottle and filling it at the sink. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

After a few moments, Tyler spoke again. “He’s really excited about this camp. It’s all he talked about on the drive here.”

YN’s hands stilled again, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his. “He’s been looking forward to it for months. It’s a big deal for him.”

Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m glad he has something like this. He’s a great kid.”

“Yes, he is,” YN agreed, her voice softening slightly.

Tyler set the filled water bottle on the table and, in a sudden impulse, stepped closer to YN, wrapping his arms around her waist. She jerked back, startled, and pushed him away, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and anger.

“Tyler, we can’t do this every time you’re here,” she said, her voice firm and edged with frustration. “We act all happy, kiss, fuck, and then you leave. I won’t allow that.”

But as Tyler’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with a longing that mirrored her own buried emotions, he wrapped his hand gently around her neck and pulled her closer. His lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss, pressing her against the table. YN resisted for a moment, her hands on his chest ready to push him away, but then she caved, her defences crumbling as the kiss deepened.

The world outside the kitchen seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in the moment. The kiss was filled with unspoken words, regrets, and a raw, undeniable connection that neither could ignore. Tyler’s hand slid from her neck to the small of her back, pulling her even closer, while YN’s hands slowly moved up to tangle in his hair.

Finally, they broke apart, both breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air between them. YN looked into Tyler’s eyes, a mix of anger, longing, and vulnerability in her gaze.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You still have a lot to prove.”

“I know,” Tyler replied, his voice equally soft but resolute. “And I will. I promise.”

YN took a deep breath, stepping back and smoothing her hair. “We should finish packing. Noah needs to be ready for tomorrow.”

Tyler nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, let’s finish up.”

YN finished packing the bag, zipping it closed with a final, decisive motion. She straightened up, looking at Tyler with a mix of determination and lingering hurt. “Just don’t disappoint him, Tyler. You had let down enough.”

Tyler swallowed, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. “I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll do everything I can to be the father he deserves.”

YN nodded, a slight, weary smile touching her lips. “Good night, Tyler.”

“Good night, YN,” he replied, watching as she turned and left the kitchen, the dim light casting long shadows behind her.

The next morning, the ranch was bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. Birds chirped in the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The tranquillity was occasionally punctuated by the sounds of preparation, as YN and her brother Matt stood by his truck, loading up Noah’s bag for the soccer camp.

Noah, bouncing with excitement, was saying his goodbyes to Tyler, Kate, and Javi. He hugged Kate and Javi, thanking them for their visit, before turning to his father. Tyler knelt down to Noah’s level, wrapping his son in a big hug.

“Have a great time at camp, buddy,” Tyler said, ruffling Noah’s hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

Tyler replied with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Noah nodded, then ran over to where Matt was loading the last of his gear into the truck. Matt, a tall, sturdy man with an easy-going demeanour, lifted Noah’s bag effortlessly and placed it in the back of the truck. He gave his nephew a high-five before turning to his sister.

As Noah clambered into the truck, Matt leaned closer to YN, his expression curious. “Did y’all fuck again?” he asked, his tone genuine and slightly teasing.

YN’s eyes widened, and she quickly elbowed him in the ribs. “No,” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else heard. “God, Matt, why would you ask that?”

Matt rubbed his side, a smirk playing at his lips. “Just curious. You had that look in your eye this morning.”

“What look?” YN shot back, her voice low but sharp.

“The one that says you’re all conflicted and worked up,” Matt replied, his tone softening slightly. “Just concerned about you.”

YN sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “It’s complicated, Matt. But no, nothing happened. We’re just trying to figure things out for Noah’s sake.”

Matt nodded, his expression turning serious. “I get it. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

“I will,” YN promised, giving her brother a grateful smile. “Thanks, Matt.”

Tyler walked over to join them, his gaze shifting between YN and Matt. “Everything set?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” Matt replied, giving Tyler a nod. “Noah’s ready to go.”

Noah popped his head out of the truck, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, Dad! Bye, Kate! Bye, Javi! See you soon!”

“Bye, Noah!” Kate and Javi called back, waving.

Tyler smiled and waved, his heart swelling with pride and a tinge of sadness. “Bye, Noah. Have fun, and listen to your uncle, okay?”

“I will!” Noah shouted back, his excitement evident.

With everything in place, Matt climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. YN gave Noah one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before stepping back.

After watching the truck disappear down the road, YN and Tyler turned back toward the house. As they walked, the silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable. They reached the front porch where Javi and Kate were waiting, enjoying the fresh morning air.

YN gave them a warm smile. “So, are you two as madly obsessed with tornadoes as Tyler?” she asked, her tone playful but genuinely curious.

Javi chuckled, exchanging a glance with Kate. “Pretty much. It’s kind of hard not to be when you’re around him.”

Kate nodded, grinning. “Yeah, it’s definitely infectious. Tyler’s passion rubs off on everyone.”

YN’s smile widened a bit, and she motioned for them to follow her. “Well, come with me. I want to show you something.”

Curious, Javi and Kate followed YN, with Tyler trailing slightly behind. She led them across the yard to a large shed. As she opened the door, they stepped inside and were immediately struck by the sight of a whiteboard covered with detailed tornado studies, including diagrams, photographs, and various notes. The walls were lined with shelves full of meteorological instruments and equipment.

“Wow,” Kate breathed, her eyes wide with amazement. “This is incredible.”

Tyler stepped forward, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “YN used to chase tornadoes with me when we became married. She was just as passionate about it as I was.”

YN turned to face them, her expression a mixture of pride and practicality. “Yeah, I was. We made a great team, tracking storms and gathering data. But after I had Noah, things changed. Babies are expensive, and I needed a real job to support us.”

Her gaze shifted to Tyler, a hint of tension in her eyes. “Tornado chasing doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”

Javi and Kate listened, sensing the complexity of YN’s feelings. Javi stepped closer to the whiteboard, studying the detailed notes and diagrams. “You really know your stuff. It’s clear you were—and still are—a huge asset in the field.”

YN’s expression softened, appreciating the acknowledgment. “Thank you. I still follow the research and keep up with the latest developments. It’s hard to let go completely.”

Kate nodded, glancing between YN and Tyler. “It must have been amazing to chase storms together. But I understand why you had to make that choice.”

YN smiled gently, a mix of gratitude and bittersweet memories in her eyes. “It was amazing. And I don’t regret any of it. But priorities change, and I had to put Noah first.”

YN cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the whiteboard. She pointed to a specific section filled with charts, graphs, and a detailed map marked with various weather patterns and historical data.

“Based on the latest alerts and previous occurrences, there’s a high probability that a tornado might strike today,” YN explained, her voice steady and professional. “The conditions are almost identical to past events that resulted in tornadoes in this area.”

Javi and Kate leaned in closer, examining the data with keen interest. Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he followed YN’s explanation, his mind already shifting into storm-chaser mode.

“I’ve been monitoring the weather patterns all week,” YN continued. “And everything indicates that we’re due for some severe weather today. The wind shear, humidity, and temperature changes are all pointing towards a potential tornado formation.”

Kate glanced at YN, impressed. “You really haven’t lost your touch, YN. This is some detailed analysis.”

YN smiled modestly. “Thanks. It’s hard to shake off old habits.”

As they looked out the window of the shed, they noticed the wind beginning to pick up. The leaves on the trees rustled vigorously, and the sky had taken on a slightly ominous hue, with dark clouds gathering in the distance.

Tyler stepped closer to the window, his instincts kicking in. “You’re right. The wind’s starting to stir up. We need to be prepared.”

YN nodded, her expression serious. “We need to keep a close eye on the weather reports and be ready to take cover if necessary. This area is no stranger to tornadoes, and we’ve got to stay vigilant.”

Javi turned to Tyler, his excitement barely contained. “Should we gear up and get the equipment ready? If a tornado does form, we’ll want to be ready to gather data.”

Tyler hesitated, glancing at YN. “What do you think? We don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

YN considered for a moment, then nodded. “We can set up some basic monitoring equipment around the property, but safety comes first. We’ll stay close to the house and make sure we have a safe place to take cover if things get serious.”

Kate started jotting down notes, already planning the setup. “We’ll need to monitor wind speeds, humidity levels, and temperature changes. I’ll get the anemometers and barometers from the truck.”

As they worked together to prepare, the tension in the air grew. The wind outside continued to pick up, whipping through the trees and sending small debris skittering across the yard. Dark clouds loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape.

Tyler turned to YN, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “YN, would you want to go chasing tornadoes again? Just like old times?”

YN paused, the question hanging in the air. She looked at Tyler, a swirl of emotions in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. It’s been a long time, and I miss having you out there with me. Besides, with the conditions today, we could really use your expertise.”

YN looked out the window, the wind howling louder now. Her passion for storm chasing still burned bright, and the thought of getting back out there, even just for a day, was tempting. She turned back to Tyler, a determined smile forming on her lips. “Alright. Let’s do it. But we stay safe, and we stay smart but I bet that's hard for you.”

Tyler’s face lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. “Deal.”

YN and Tyler sprinted toward his truck. The wind was picking up rapidly, whipping their hair and clothes as they ran. Tyler reached the truck first, yanking open the back and checking the equipment. Barrels, sensors, and cameras were all securely fastened, ready for deployment.

“We’re good to go!” Tyler shouted over the roar of the wind, giving YN a thumbs-up.

YN nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. “Let’s make sure everything is double-checked. We can’t afford any mistakes out there.”

Together, they quickly went through a mental checklist, ensuring every piece of equipment was in place and ready for action. Meanwhile, Kate and Javi were hustling to pack up the radars and additional monitoring gear. They worked with practiced efficiency, their movements swift and precise.

“Radars are set!” Kate called out as she slammed the tailgate of their support vehicle shut.

Javi gave a quick nod, securing the last of the equipment. “We’re ready. Let’s get moving before this thing really kicks off.”

The group piled into Tyler’s truck, the atmosphere inside charged with excitement and urgency. Tyler took the driver’s seat, YN sliding in beside him. Javi and Kate squeezed into the back, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of the impending storm.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the wind was already strong enough to rock the truck slightly. Dark, menacing clouds swirled above, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. Tyler kept one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio to the local weather station for updates.

“We need to get to the very center of it,” YN said, her voice steady but filled with determination. “That’s where we’ll get the most accurate data.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “We’ll head west. That’s where the reports are indicating the strongest activity. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled.”

The truck sped down the rural roads, the wind howling louder with each passing minute. Leaves and small branches were whipped into the air, and the sky grew darker, an ominous prelude to the storm’s fury.

Kate leaned forward from the back seat, her voice tense but excited. “I’m picking up increased rotation on the radar. It’s definitely forming.”

Javi was already setting up the portable radar unit, his fingers flying over the controls. “We’ve got about ten minutes before it hits full force. We need to find a safe spot to deploy the barrels.”

Tyler pushed the truck harder, his foot pressing the accelerator to the floor. “We’re almost there. Everyone, get ready.”

They arrived at an open field, a perfect spot to launch their equipment without any obstructions. Tyler brought the truck to a screeching halt, and they all jumped out, working quickly to unload the barrels and sensors. The wind whipped around them, making every movement a struggle.

“Set the barrels here!” YN shouted, pointing to strategic spots around the field. “We need a wide spread to get the best data.”

They worked in synchrony, years of experience guiding their actions. Barrels were placed, sensors activated, and cameras positioned to capture every angle of the storm’s development. The wind was now almost deafening, the first drops of rain starting to pelt down.

“Okay, everything’s in place!” Javi yelled, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Tyler gave a final check, ensuring everything was secure. “Back in the truck, now! We need to move to a safe distance.”

They scrambled back into the truck, slamming the doors shut against the force of the wind. Tyler drove them a short distance away, finding a spot where they could monitor the barrels and sensors without being in immediate danger.

Inside the truck, the tension was palpable. They watched as the storm continued to build, the radar showing increasing rotation and intensity.

“Here it comes,” YN said quietly, her eyes glued to the horizon. “Get ready, everyone.”

As they turned the truck around to face the direction they had come from, the tornado materialized in full force. It was a monstrous, swirling vortex, far stronger and more violent than any of them had anticipated. The sheer power of it took their breath away, and for a moment, there was stunned silence inside the truck.

"Tyler, hit the gas!" Javi screamed, breaking the spell as the tornado surged closer, the wind howling louder than ever.

Kate clutched the seat in front of her, eyes wide with terror. "Go, go, go! It's coming right at us!"

Tyler didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the truck lurched forward with a roar, tires spinning for a moment before gaining traction. The engine roared as they sped away from the impending doom.

YN gripped the dashboard, her knuckles white. “Drive into town! We need to get to the shelter!” she yelled, her voice barely audible over the deafening noise of the storm and the wail of the tornado sirens that had just started blaring in the distance.

Tyler's eyes were locked on the road, his focus razor-sharp as he maneuverer the truck through the increasingly treacherous conditions. Debris flew through the air, and the rain was coming down in blinding sheets, making visibility almost zero. He squinted through the windshield, barely making out the shapes of trees and houses as they sped past.

The wind buffeted the truck from side to side, each gust threatening to push them off the road. Javi and Kate huddled in the back, gripping whatever they could to steady themselves. The tension was palpable, fear mixing with adrenaline as they raced against nature’s fury.

“We’re almost there!” Tyler shouted, though the words were more for his own reassurance than anything else. He could see the outline of the town ahead, the familiar shapes of buildings providing a glimmer of hope.

As they barrelled into town, the sirens wailed louder, their eerie wail cutting through the chaos. People scrambled for cover, but it was clear there was no dedicated shelter nearby. The streets were filled with panic-stricken faces, families huddling together, and everyone looking desperately for a place to hide.

“There!” YN pointed towards the old cinema, its marquee flickering in the storm. “We need to get everyone inside! It’s our best shot!”

Tyler swerved towards the cinema, the truck skidding slightly on the wet pavement but maintaining control. They reached the cinema just as the tornado seemed to roar with renewed fury, the swirling winds growing even more intense.

“Everyone out! Now!” Tyler commanded, slamming the truck into park and jumping out.

They all scrambled out of the truck, running towards the entrance of the cinema. Tyler and YN threw the doors open, ushering people inside. The lobby quickly filled with a mass of frightened, drenched townspeople, their faces masks of fear and urgency.

“There’s no basement!” a man shouted, panic rising in his voice as he scanned the building.

“We’ll have to make do!” YN yelled back, trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Everyone, get to the back of the theatre! Away from the windows!”

They herded everyone into the main auditorium, the old seats creaking as people pressed in tightly. The walls shuddered with each gust of wind, and the overhead lights flickered ominously. Tyler, YN, Javi, and Kate took positions by the doors, doing their best to calm the panicked crowd.

“Keep away from the doors and windows!” Tyler shouted, trying to be heard over the growing cacophony. “Get down and cover your heads!”

The wind outside was deafening, a relentless howl that seemed to penetrate the very walls of the cinema. The roof groaned under the pressure, and with a horrifying screech, a section of it began to peel away. Dust and debris rained down, and the crowd screamed in terror.

“Stay calm!” YN tried to shout, her voice nearly drowned out. She grabbed a young mother clutching her child and guided them to the relative safety of the aisle. “Stay low and cover your heads!”

Tyler ran to the centre of the auditorium, his voice strong and commanding. “Everyone, stay together! We’ll get through this!”

Javi and Kate moved through the crowd, helping to calm people and keep them as safe as possible. But the noise was overwhelming, and the fear was palpable. The building shuddered violently as another section of the roof began to rip away, exposing them to the fury of the storm.

A fierce wind gust whipped through the open space, sending papers and loose objects flying. The sound was like a freight train bearing down on them, and the temperature seemed to drop as the tornado closed in.

Tyler grabbed YN’s hand, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of determination and fear. “We need to hold on. We’ve faced worse before.”

YN nodded, squeezing his hand back.

Suddenly, the main doors blew open, the wind slamming them against the walls. People screamed as the full force of the storm invaded the theatre. Tyler and YN ran to secure the doors, but the wind was too strong, making it nearly impossible.

“Get back!” Javi shouted, pulling them away just as another piece of the roof tore off, sending debris raining down.

They retreated to the back of the theatre, joining the huddled mass of townspeople. YN shielded a young girl with her body, while Tyler did the same for an elderly couple. The wind roared, and the structure of the building groaned as if it might collapse at any moment.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind seemed to lose some of its ferocity. The howling diminished to a deafening roar, and the debris stopped flying. The eye of the storm passed over them, giving a brief respite.

Tyler looked up, panting. “We need to move. If we’re in the eye, the other side of the tornado will hit soon. We need to find a more secure spot.”

YN nodded, urgency in her eyes. “Everyone, stay close! We need to move quickly and find better cover!”

But before they could organize the next move, the wind picked up again, signalling the approach of the tornado’s second half. The noise returned, louder than before, and the remaining sections of the roof began to buckle.

“Hold on to something!” Kate screamed, gripping a nearby seat.

The storm’s fury was unrelenting, the howling wind now a deafening roar that consumed everything. Inside the theatre, the panicked crowd clung desperately to the metal railings that lined the aisles, their white-knuckled grips their only anchor against the tornado’s immense force.

“Hold on tight!” Tyler shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. He braced himself against the railing, his other arm wrapped protectively around YN.

Debris swirled through the air, and the theatre's walls creaked ominously. A sudden gust of wind tore through the room, lifting seats and sending smaller objects flying. A few unfortunate souls lost their grip and were swept away, their screams lost in the maelstrom.

YN’s fingers were slipping on the railing, the sweat and dust making it nearly impossible to hold on. “Tyler!” she cried out, her voice filled with fear as she felt her grip weakening.

Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw YN’s desperate struggle. He reached out, his hand closing around her wrist just as her fingers slipped free. “I’ve got you!” he yelled, his voice a mix of determination and fear.

The wind howled with renewed ferocity, and Tyler tightened his grip, pulling YN closer. She clung to him, her body trembling with the effort to stay grounded. Around them, the chaos continued, people holding on for dear life as the storm battered the theatre.

A particularly strong gust rocked the building, and Tyler felt his own hold on the railing waver. He gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength to keep both himself and YN anchored. “Don’t let go!” he shouted, his voice raw with strain.

YN’s eyes met his, wide with fear but also filled with trust. “I won’t,” she promised, her voice barely more than a whisper.

As the storm raged on, the moments stretched into what felt like an eternity. Tyler could feel his muscles burning, every tendon straining to keep his grip. He glanced around, seeing Javi and Kate nearby, their faces set with grim determination as they held on.

“Hold tight, everyone!” Kate screamed, her voice cutting through the noise. ��We’re almost through this!”

The theatre's structure groaned under the pressure, the walls and ceiling shaking as the tornado’s full force bore down on them. The wind was a relentless beast, tugging at everything in its path. Tyler’s grip tightened on YN’s wrist, his other hand aching from holding onto the railing.

Suddenly, a piece of the ceiling gave way, crashing down with a deafening noise. Dust and debris filled the air, and for a moment, it was impossible to see or breathe. Tyler coughed, his eyes stinging, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Stay with me, YN!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

“I’m here!” she responded, her voice strong despite the fear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wind began to subside. The roar of the tornado faded to a distant howl, and the violent shaking of the building eased. The storm was passing, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Tyler took a deep, shaky breath, his muscles screaming in protest as he slowly released his grip on the railing. He pulled YN into a tight embrace, relief flooding through him. “We made it,” he whispered, his voice filled with exhaustion and relief.

YN clung to him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of fear and adrenaline. “Thank you,” she whispered back, her voice choked with emotion.

Without thinking, driven by an overwhelming surge of emotion, Tyler cupped YN’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply. It was a kiss filled with relief, love, and a promise of never letting go. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

YN responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervour. Tears mixed with the dirt on her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were together, alive, and safe.

When they finally broke apart, YN looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Tyler, please,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Never leave me again. Please.”

Tyler rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll never leave you again, YN. I swear it.”

They held each other tightly, the chaos around them fading into the background as they found solace in each other’s arms. The bond that had once been strained was now reinforced by the shared trauma and the depth of their love.

Javi and Kate staggered over, their faces pale but relieved. “Is everyone okay?” Javi asked, his voice rough from the dust and strain.

Tyler nodded, still holding YN close. “We’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Kate glanced around the devastated theatre, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That was… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

YN pulled back slightly from Tyler, her hand still holding his. “We need to make sure everyone’s accounted for and get the injured some help.”

Tyler nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right. Let’s do a headcount and see who needs assistance.”

Together, they moved through the theatre, helping those who had been thrown by the wind and checking on the injured. The sense of community and shared survival was palpable, everyone working together to ensure that no one was left behind.

As they helped an elderly couple to their feet, YN glanced at Tyler, her eyes still filled with emotion. “We’ve faced worse storms, but this… this was different.”

Tyler squeezed her hand, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Please let me back to you guys, nearly losing you there hurt me more than leaving you all those years back."

...

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httpknjoon · 2 months ago

Text

from your point of view | myg

plot | that time bassist!yoongi thinks popstar!yn is not that versatile when performing her songs. (alternative: that time bassist!yoongi made popstar!yn cry— unintentionally!)

w.c | 2476

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, angst, enemies to lovers

note | thank you to @seolaquotes for sending this one! hope u like it <3

main masterlist | want to request?

DAY 60 of Love Is... On Tour

"Okay, you all can take your breaks. Just come back before three."

As soon as Art concluded the rehearsals, everyone began leaving the arena. The dancers chat while picking up their bags. You were talking with Art about the setlist while you two walked away. Yoongi was just removing the guitar over his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Noah found a place with the best beer five minutes away. Do you want to come?" Fred asked while the others waited for his reply.

Yoongi looked at his guitar, scratching the back of his head. "There's something wrong with my guitar. Send me the location, and I'll catch up later."

The other members nodded and said their goodbyes. Alone, Yoongi just sat on the stage floor to tune it. The issue has been bugging him since the rehearsals began, causing him to have errors and delays that made you give him an obvious side-eye in almost every song.

"There it is..." Yoongi whisphered to himself as begun turning the pegs.

Listening carefully to the tune of his guitar, he did not even notice you walking back on the stage. You were planning to rehearse some of your songs alone, so you decided to come back after getting another bottle of water for yourself. You were quietly scrolling down on your phone when you noticed him sitting on a corner of the stage, alone with his guitar. You raised an eyebrow.

"You're still here?" You asked since you saw the others leaving together. Fred even invited her to go with them to the pub near the concert venue.

"Have to tune my guitar." Yoongi replied, not even looking up at you.

It has been a week since that night you two had an intense staring contest. Yoongi really followed what Art told him. He never looked directly at you before, during, and even after the rehearsals again. You don't know if he's a good follower or just sarcastically playing with you. But either way, it's getting to your nerves.

You didn't say anything anymore. Instead, you sat in front of him and stared like you were waiting for him to do something. He stopped for a second.

As soon as he realized that you decided to watch him, he clicked his tongue, "Uhm, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," you replied with a cheeky grin even though he won't look at you. By your coy reply, Yoongi can immediately imagine that you were smiling when you said that.

Your plans of rehearsing alone are now tossed aside and you make it a challenge for yourself to make your least favorite band member meet your eyes. You don't know why, but out of every staff and crew member who works here, Yoongi is the only one you don't really get along with. Was it the ugly first meeting? Or the uglier first impressions that lasted until now? Maybe it is something deeper. Who knows? You don't. But for now, you know that you like getting a reaction out of his usual blank expression.

"So, this is your first world tour?" you asked, internally determined to break him while he's busy.

"Yes," he replied, still turning the pegs in his guitar.

"But you worked with Harry before, right? Why didn't you join his band then?"

When you were looking for a replacement for your past band, Art endorsed Yoongi with the mention that he worked with Harry Styles on his first and second albums. Other than playing for him, he also produced and wrote a few songs with him. But, he didn't join Harry's two-year world tour that just ended months ago. Since Art seemed to really like him, you just agreed to take him for your band and never knew any more about his back story.

"My fiancee didn't want long-distance relationship," he answered like he didn't just say something of a big deal.

Your eyebrows raised, "You're getting married?!"

Instead of an answer, there was a long silence between you two. Suddenly, you feel a strange tension entering the stage. Yet, Yoongi has not laid his eyes on you. Instead, a heavy sigh comes out of his lips.

"Why are you here? It's break time."

You cleared your throat, tucking a hair strand behind your ear, "I wanted to rehearse alone."

"Is me fixing my guitar here will bother your activity?" he asked, looking at your fingers drumming on the ground.

You noticed that and decided to stop your tapping fingers. Testing, you laid your hand to your lap, feeling your cotton sweatpants. His eyes followed.

"Not really." you smirked when his eyes followed your fingers running through your hair. then, you snapped your fingers in front of your face. "Finally!"

"What?" his forehead creased.

"You looked at me. We've been talking for ten minutes and you won't just look at me," you explained.

"I thought you don't want anyone looking at you." he reminded you.

"...Not anyone." you tried correcting him.

It was his turn to smirk when he replied, "If that rule was just for me, then why are you putting too much effort to make me look at you right now?"

It was like your brain stopped for a moment. You cannot process any answer to that. Why do you even like annoying him? Or getting a reaction out of him? Are you that pressed about him? Why do you even want him to look—

"YN, here's the second setlist!"

Art! Thank goodness, Art showed up! You scramble to get up to meet your tour manager who was stepping on the edge of the stage. Cal was behind him since you asked her before to watch your new song choices for later. You see one of her brows raised when she noticed Yoongi on stage. She eyed him and you like she was making up something in her head.

"Oh, Yoongi, you're here?" Art asked him.

He nods, "Yep, had to fix something with this thing."

"Great! YN changed up some of the songs in the setlist. Maybe you can try playing it while she rehearse?" He asked.

You wanted to protest, not wanting to spend more time with him since you blacked out when he confronted you just a minute ago. But before you can even say something, Yoongi already nodded his head and began strumming his now-fixed guitar.

"Sure."

You had three songs changed in your setlist. It's not unusual as you always do it almost every week, wanting to surprise your fans every once in a while. For tonight, you put your famous less energentic love songs on the list.

"Is that okay?" you asked after singing the last one.

Art nods, giving you a thumbs up. Cal agreed even though it looked like she hesitated for a second. Since Yoongi is in the room too, you looked at him for any comments.

"I don't know. It kinda feels like you are zoning out when you're performing your less lively songs." He shrugged, removing his guitar on his lap and placing on its stand.

"Excuse me?" Your nostrils flared, Yoongi noticed.

"Like for instance, POV. The song is beautiful, the lyrics is really sincere. But I cannot feel anything from you every time you sing it." He explained. "It's like you were just trying to get over it so you can move on to your next songs."

Your throat tightened like it's hard to speak. Was he wrong? He's not. And you hate it. When you are singing the songs you wrote based on a relationship that eventually ended with infidelity, of course, you will find yourself dissociating. Most of your love songs were written about Theo, your ex-boyfriend -slash-ex-bassist, and everyone knows it. As much as you love those songs, you hate who it was associated with and sometimes you just want to space out rather than think of him while singing it.

You hate that Yoongi sees right through you.

You placed a hand on your hip. "And what do you know about performing?"

"You know that I'm a producer too, right?"

A lopsided smile was on his face when he said that. Hating how nonchalant he was, you rolled your eyes.

"Anyway, I'll go. I'll catch up with the others at the pub," he said, not even giving you a chance to bite back.

Out of curiosity, while you were still in your free time hours before the concert, you began looking up your performances online. You don't really watch a lot of videos of yourself online since you feel too vain in doing so. Plus, being a perfectionist, you will just end up pointing out the things you should have and have not done while watching those clips.

But you needed to confirm your bass guitarist's comments about you. So, you downloaded TikTok and opened your burner account. You quickly typed in your name on the search bar and scrolled down to find videos of you from your current tour. That is how you came across a compilation made by your fan, titled:

✨YN dissociating for three minutes straight✨

What the fuck?!

"Was it really that obvious when I'm singing those songs?" You asked, looking at Cal through the mirror.

It's been a couple of hours since you watched those videos. You are now sat in the make-up chair, wearing your bedazzled bodysuit, prepping up to perform in a few minutes.

"What?" Cal asked since she was busy fixing up your schedule for the next few days.

"That I'm spacing out?" you spoke quietly before chewing on your lips.

Your assistant noticed you being affected by what Yoongi said since he left for the pub. She saw you watching videos online, which she thought added more self-doubt. But she knew that you always wanted real and honest answers.

"In all honesty, honey, there are times I feel like you were slipping out."

You nodded at that, appreciating her honest comment.

"Faye?" You called your hair and makeup artist's attention, asking for her opinion.

She nods, agreeing with Cal, but you can read the sympathy in her eyes, "But your voice is great—"

"It's just the emotions, it's gone." you ended the sentence for her.

You looked down while your assistant and HMUA looked at each other. Maybe you really need to tap into those emotions again. It wouldn't be that bad, right?

"It's like you got superpowers, turn my minutes into hours..."

Yoongi watched from the band's spot on stage as you performed the song he criticized earlier. Thinking about that make his stomach sinks. He wondered if he said too much. You avoided eye contact with him when they returned for the last rehearsal earlier when they got back from the pub. You spoke quietly and was sighing a lot like you were frustrated. The guilt sits heavily on his chest.

"You know me better than I do, can't seem to keep nothing from you..."

Now in a sparkly, silver long gown, Yoongi's comments replayed in your head. You want to prove him wrong, so you begin looking back at the time you wrote the song. You let your fingers play with the mic stand in front of you while you sing.

"I wanna love me, the way that you love me..."

There he is. Theo. His face flashed in your head and everything you've done together in the last four years. Suddenly, you were transported at the time you two were alone in the studio. He was sleeping on the couch because you promised you two would go home after writing one more song.

"I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me..."

You were sparkling while your fans turned on their camera flashes. Yoongi observed you. Tonight was definitely different. Your voice felt fragile, like you were about to break at any moment.

"You love my lips 'cause they say the things we've always been afraid of..."

A knot tightens in your throat. You held on to the stand before you, trying to find stability. You felt your heart beating faster while reliving the good times of your past relationship. Then, you remember the first headline you read the day you decided to end it all.

"I couldn't believe it or see it for myself. Boy, I be impatient, but now I'm out here..."

Your voice shakes. The whole arena was quiet but the shared sympathy for you was obvious. Everyone knows how your relationship went as the break-up was highly publicized during the first week of your tour. Yoongi watched you remove your mic from the stand and begin sitting in the middle of center stage with the spotlight focused on you.

"And if my eyes deceive me, won't let them stray too far away..."

The song originally don't have any bass guitar in it, but you were losing it. So you turned your head down, letting the tears fall down. Yoongi notoced you raising your fingers. You rubbed your thumb and index finger together before drawing two checkmarks like you're strumming a guitar.

He instantly picked up and began playing his guitar, in tune with the instrumental of the emotional song. Earlier, you asked to put a short instrumental between the bridge and the last chorus since you wanted to enjoy the surprise song. The fans cheered as the bass guitar added a new vibe to the emotional song.

"I wanna love me, the way that you love me..."

The fans began singing back to you. You close your eyes, and a small smile forms on your lips. Your ears are filled with their voices. Everyone watched as you softly swayed to the song. You even removed your in-ear to hear their singing fully. Your heart slowly warms up, sending peace into your system.

"I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me, baby..."

You began singing again, walking on each corner of the stage to be closer to your fans. You point to them before putting the same hand on your chest as you continue,

"'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do, I'd love to see me from your point of view..."

The next day. It was only two-thirty in the morning and you were getting ready to leave your hotel room to leave for another state, when you heard a couple of knocks on your door.

"Just come in, Cal!" you said.

But you didn't hear the door open. So, you got up from your bed and opened it yourself. That's when you spotted a Milwaukee souvenir notebook on the carpeted ground. You picked it up when you saw a written note on paper taped on its cover.

sorry, didn't mean to make you cry. write more beautiful songs of urs.

ps. can't find any other notebooks here in the hotel. sorry 4 that 2

note | holiday themed drabbles coming up soon

SERIES TAGLIST

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

#bass guitarist! yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts drabble #bts aus #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #httpknjoon #love is... on tour myg #Spotify

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misspygmypie · 5 months ago

Text

A Tiny Tifosi?

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appearance Words: 1562 Request: Lando and yn taking mae and noah to a grand prix, but mae seems to favour other cars over her dad making lando jealous and upset. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando Norris had been eagerly counting down the days until this Grand Prix race weekend. It wasn’t just about the thrill of competition or the chance to showcase his racing skills. This particular weekend held a special excitement for him because it was an opportunity to share his high-octane world with Maebry for the first time. The stands were already packed with enthusiastic fans when Lando, accompanied by Y/N, Noah and Maebry navigated through the paddock.

Noah, ever the curious and energetic child, tugged on Lando’s hand. “Dad, can we go see the cars up close later? It’s been so long since we’ve been at a race!”

“Of course,” Lando, trying to mask his own excitement, smiled down at his son. “I’ve got a whole itinerary planned for you guys. We’ll see the cars, the pit lane and maybe even meet some of the other drivers. It’s Mae’s first visit so I have to make it special!”

Y/N, holding said girl securely in her arms, couldn’t help but notice Lando’s extra bounce in his step. “I think you’ve got your priorities straight,” she said, chuckling. “This is a special weekend indeed.”

Lando was eager to introduce his family to his colleagues and teammates. He had been looking forward to showing Maebry, who was just old enough to be fascinated by the colorful chaos of the Grand Prix, what his world was all about. The smell of gasoline and the roar of engines were like a symphony to Lando and he hoped Maebry would catch a bit of that magic.

When they finally arrived at Lando’s car, which was gleaming under the sunlight, he carefully lifted Maebry from Y/N’s arms and held her tiny hand up to the car’s sleek livery. “Look, Maebry, this is Daddy’s car. Isn’t it amazing?”

Maebry glanced at the car, then her attention darted to the car next to it. Lando’s heart sank as he saw her little eyes light up at the sight of the rival’s red machine. The Ferrari was practically winking at her with its bright red paint and Maebry was enchanted.

“Oh, come on,” Lando muttered under his breath, his smile twitching. “It’s just a car. Mine has more... character!”

Maebry giggled and reached out eagerly for the Ferrari. Lando tried to stay upbeat. “Maebry, sweetie, Daddy’s car is super fast and cool. It’s the best car here,” he said, his voice rising to a pitch that would make any public speaker proud.

Noah, who saw his sister gleaming at the red car, had to intervene. “Daddy’s car can totally beat that Ferrari in a race! It’s like, super duper fast,” he said, his McLaren pride clearly showing.

The girl, however, continued to be mesmerized by the Ferrari, her tiny fingers reaching towards it as if she was trying to pull it into her little world. Lando’s smile faltered completely and he felt an irrational pang of jealousy. “Why is she not into my car? Is it the color? I don't understand, it’s basically the superhero of cars!”

“She’s just discovering new things, Lando. It’s probably just the bright color. Ferrari does have a certain appeal,” Y/N tried to reassure him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Lando tried to laugh it off but it came out as more of a strangled chuckle. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just add ‘bright red’ to my car’s next upgrade, Zak will love that.”

As the race began, Maebry clapped her hands and squealed with joy as the engines came to life. Lando was focused on the track waiting for the race to start, determined to give his best performance but every time he glanced over at Maebry in the paddock club overlooking the pit lane he saw her pointing towards the rival car. It was like a constant reminder that his daughter had developed an unexpected crush on Ferrari.

Noah, meanwhile, continued to be Lando’s most enthusiastic cheerleader. “Go, Daddy,” he shouted, waving his flag energetically. Lando appreciated Noah’s support but every enthusiastic shout from his son felt like a band-aid on the gaping wound of his jealousy.

The race progressed with Lando pushing himself to the limit. He performed admirably, navigating the track with the precision and skill he was known for. However, the nagging thought of Maebry’s fascination with the Ferrari was a persistent distraction. It was as if every turn he took was accompanied by a mental image of Maebry gazing longingly at the rival car.

After the race, with Y/N, Noah and Maebry in tow, Lando approached the Ferrari motorhome. He tried to keep his spirits high, even as he recalled how he’d set up this meeting days earlier without a clue that Maebry would develop an almost magnetic fascination with Ferrari.

He took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself. He hoped the sight of his friends Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz would help take his mind off the day’s earlier frustrations.

The Ferrari motorhome was a hive of activity, filled with team members, fans and the occasional stray driver who had wandered in for a post-race chat. Charles and Carlos were engaged in animated conversation with a few of their team members, their faces lighting up with the energy of a good race and a job well done.

Lando, trying to appear casual despite the slight tinge of envy still gnawing at him, waved energetically. “Hey, guys,” he called out, his voice a bit too cheerful, like someone trying to overcompensate for a bad day and he cast a quick glance at Y/N when he heard her stifle a laugh next to him.

Charles and Carlos looked up from their conversation, their faces breaking into genuine smiles when they saw Lando and his family approaching. Charles waved back enthusiastically. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you all, come on in!”

Noah, bouncing with excitement, stepped forward. “I have so many questions for you two!”

Charles laughed, clearly enjoying Noah’s enthusiasm. “We’ve got time. We will answer all of them!”

Lando shifted Maebry in his arms so she could get a better view while trying hard to keep his cool. “Maebry, this is Charles and Carlos. They’re really good friends of Daddy’s.”

Charles and Carlos turned their full attention to Maebry. “Hi, Maebry,” Charles said with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Carlos added, “Do you like racing, Maebry?”

Maebry’s eyes widened as she looked around, then her gaze locked onto the Ferrari logo on the side of the building. Without hesitation she pointed at it with the excitement of a kid who just discovered chocolate.

Lando’s heart sank even further. “Seriously? I might need to get her a McLaren onesie and start over.”

“Looks like we’ve got a tiny Tifosi on our hands,” Carlos said with a playful grin and exchanged an amused look with Charles. “Ferrari is pretty iconic.”

“That’s a great choice, Maebry,” Charles added. “Ferrari is all about history and passion, it’s hard not to be impressed.”

Y/N gave Lando a sympathetic look. “She’s just discovering her favorites. It’s perfectly okay and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love your car.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lando forced a smile, though he still felt a twinge of disappointment but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of his friends. “I just wanted her to be excited about my car, too…”

Carlos, noticing Lando’s subdued mood, decided to lighten the atmosphere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Ferrari keychain. “How about a little keepsake for Maebry?”

Maebry’s face lit up and she eagerly reached for the keychain. Lando, trying to suppress his feelings, joked: “Maybe I should just repaint my car Ferrari red and call it a day.”

“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles clapped Lando on the back, “we’ll make sure she knows how awesome McLaren is too.”

As they chatted, Maebry continued to admire the Ferrari keychain, her attention completely absorbed by the small emblem. Lando watched her intensely, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. His daughter’s fascination with the rival team was a hard pill to swallow but he couldn’t deny the joy on her face.

With goodbyes exchanged and a few more photos taken, Lando’s family left the Ferrari motorhome. Maebry clutched her new keychain, her face beaming with happiness, while Noah chattered excitedly about the day’s events.

Later, as Lando carried a sleepy Maebry on his shoulder, her little fingers holding onto the Ferrari keychain and a souvenir flag, he felt mixed emotions. Despite the day’s earlier frustrations, seeing her so content and peaceful made his heart swell but he was still jealous.

Y/N looked at Lando with a knowing smile. “You did great out there and Maebry had a blast, even if she’s got a bit of a rivalry going with your car.”

“I guess she’ll have her favorites just like everyone else. At least she had fun,” Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Noah, still buzzing from the day’s excitement, grabbed Lando’s hand. “Dad, you were awesome! Even if Maebry likes the other car, you’re still the best!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Lando said, squeezing Noah’s hand. “That means a lot.”

As they walked to their car Lando glanced down at his daughter. Maybe one day she’d appreciate his car’s greatness - or at least learn to love both Ferraris and McLarens.

________

AN: This request made me chuckle so hard lmao I had so much fun writing this!! (Also, the irony of me writing this after the past weekend 😭)... Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

#lando imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando angst #lando x noah #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x reader #lando x maebry

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littlxpxtal · 30 days ago

Text

Homemade Dynamite

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lines

Seeing me rolling, showing someone else love

Dancing with our shoes off

Know I think you're awesome, right?

March

”Here, take this” Sabrina hands me a purple gummie.

”How much are they?” I take it out of her palm and inspect, giving it a quick whiff.

”Like 10mg. You can take two if you want.”

”What if we both take one and a half?’ I ask, reaching for the bag she pulled it out of.

”God I love your brain.” She smiles widely and pops her pink gummie into her mouth. I take a bite it of a green one and pass her the other half.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” She asks, brushing her hair infront of the mirror.

”Well, I need to get out of the house. So I’m feeling pretty good. I just hope Noah isn’t there.” I murmur the last part and she glances over her shoulder at me with a sympathetic look.

”And if he is, we don’t have to stay. Or we can get topper to kick him out.”

I sigh and finish zipping my boots up.

“I’ll be fine. As long as he leaves me alone, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

”And what are you going to do if Rafe is there?” I freeze in place and try to act as nonchalant as possible.

“I don’t know. Say hello I guess” I let out a fake chuckle and start to walk around the room looking for my purse.

“You’re not going to escape to a bathroom with him?”she jokes. I roll my eyes and walk over to the mirror with her, pulling out my lip liner.

“You’re hilarious you know that right?” She smiles brightly back at me and places the brush down.

“Alright, I think im ready.” She declares. I finish applying my lipgloss and turn to her.

”Let’s rage.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“These boots are NOT made for walking in the sand.” I complain to Sab as we walk through the sand to reach the party.

”I swear I thought it was going to be more in the house, since it still kind of chilly, Sorry girl”

As we approach the bonfire and makeshift bar, we run into many familiar faces, including Noah.

I ignore his group of friends, leaving Sab to chat with some girls from our grade to get a drink.

”Is it possible for a gal to get a sugar free vodka red bull” I say, leaning over the bar. Topper, who was bartending for the time being, smiled at me when he heard my voice.

“Y/N!” He yells. “I feel like I haven’t seen you out in a while. “ he reaches over the bar and gives me a makeshift hug. I giggle into his shoulder as he pats my back.

”One sugar free red bull coming up.” He says with a big smile.

“Looks like the pogues have officially set up camp.” I hear Kelce’s voice grumble behind me. I turn and give him a glare. His face goes from annoyed to shocked.

”YN, didn’t know you would be making an appearance.” He gives me a side hug and goes behind the bar with Topper.

“If pogues are here, Y/N is here.” I hear Noah’s voice grovel beside me. I ignore him as Topper hands me my drink. He flashes a look between us, and gives me a look of worry. I shake my head and turn on my heels, walking away without even looking at him.

I walk out to see where the pogues are, and see a small fire a few yards away, closer to the water.

“Hey” I call out. I watch their heads snap around in defense mode, everyone’s stiff until they realize its just me. JJ is the first one to run over.

“No fucking way, the kook princess makes an appearance.” I scoff and accept his embrace.

“Hey loser” I mumble into his shoulder. The rest of the boys join our group hug as the girls giggle from behind.

”WHAT?” Pope shouts out. “We lost the coolest member of our group. Sue us for being excited”

I chuckle at this declaration and give the girls individual hugs.

“I’m still not over being called a kook princess.” I say as I release Sarah.

“At least they’re calling you that and not me. I’m sick of that nickname” She says, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

“I missed you guys” I say to the group, and they all lift their cups to the sky.

”To Y/N” John B says.

”TO Y/N” they all shout.I giggle into my cup and take a sip.

“So what trouble are we getting into tonight?” I ask, sitting down on a log next to Kie and Cleo.

”Remember when I said we had a plan for those losers that were at the scene of the crime?” Cleo asks me. I shake my head yes and they all snicker around me.

”Well we may or may not have messed with one of their kegs… you see its a simple prank really, but I brought backup use in case.” JJ says, flashing a gun in his waistband. My face holds still and I can hear the fire crackle.

“JJ, you wouldn’t actually use that would you?” I whisper, barely enough that the group can hear me.

“Just for backup, like I said.” He says, with an unreadable face. I shift uncomfortably and look back to Cleo.

”The prank on the keg is funny. I'm excited to see how that goes.” She gives me a smile and clinks her red solo cup against mine.

”Me too girl”

After catching up with the boys, I notice my drink is empty, and the edible is hitting. Hard.

“I need to find Sab and get another drink” I mumble to the group before using Kie’s shoulder as a crutch to stand.

“JJ would you ..” I hear Kie say to JJ. He shoots up and walks over to grab my arm.

”Let’s get you some water little lady.

”’m not little Jay” I grumble. Feeling the weight of the sand i'm standing on, the vibrations through my fingertips and the disgusting taste in my mouth. We make it up to the bar, and a new group of guys, probably sophomores at Kook academy working the bar this time.

“Can we get some water? And a few beers?” He asks. The boys glare at him, but they seem to recognize me enough to still get the water, neither of them addressing JJ, and passing the cup directly to me. He leaves the rest of the beers on the bar, and JJ reaches over dramatically to grab them.

“Thanks” I mumble turning to face JJ.

“Let’s go back to the water eh?” He starts to grab my arm and turn me before I halt and push against his chest.

”Said I wanted to find Sab.” I state, looking him hard in the eyes.

”Alright lets find Sabrina. Where would she be?” He asks, still holding onto my arm.

“With Top” I grumble, trying to take a step and falling into JJ.

”Alright, and where would Topper be?” He asks, holding me upright and looking around nervously. I felt bad. This situation probably looked bad. I was a mess, at the height of the edible, al I wanted was to find my best friend and giggle, but im no fucking help as to where she would be.

“Wait, what if I call her?” I say, pulling out my phone from my jeans.

“Good idea, lets go over here”

he pulls me to a corner of the party that isn’t heavily populated, the phone rings a few times before she finally answers.

”Sab where are you?” I ask frantically.

“Inside…. but we’re with rafe.” She whispers the last part and I grit my teeth.

”Where?” She tells me the room and how to get there, and I drag J by his arm through the crowd of people to reach the room.

“Give me that” I say, ripping one of the cups of beer out of his hands, chugging it as fast as I possibly could before tossing the cup. He stands there, shocked, and in his time of weakness I grab the other, chugging it fast as well. I continue to drag him up the stairs. We were a few feet away from the door before a hiccup escapes my lips and I turn to face JJ. He stops dead in his tracks so he doesn’t run into me.

“Sab is in there, but we gotta be careful, I’m not sure what we’re walking into” that was my best way of telling him rafe was behind the door and was going to absolutely hate seeing us together.

“Is it okay if im going in here with you?” He asks, scratching the back of his head.

”You really give a fuck? You brought a gun anyways” he shrugs his shoulders and follows behind me closely.

”Before we go in, can you promise me you wont use that, unless its extremely necessary. Like life or death?” I beg, holding onto his arm.

”Life or death only.” He promises. I look him dead in the eyes for a moment before turning the doorknob.

When we enter the room,it's filled with smoke, and a bunch of random people that probably knew the owner of this house better than me. What was his name again?

I look around, trying to find Sabrina in the cloud of smoke. I spot her across the room, on Topper’s lap, right next to him is Rafe, leaning over the glass table, snorting a line.

”Right right” Jj says, sighing and giving me a look before I drag him over to the other side of the room.

“Y/N!” Sabrina shrieks before jumping off of Toppers lap to give me a hug.

”Hi mama I was missing you” I exclaim, hugging her back tightly.

“Hi JJ” she says, and he responds back with a head nod.

My eyes trail off to the left of Sabrina to see tha rafe is completely avoiding eye contact with me, rubbing the tip of his nose and lifting his hips up to pull out his phone. I roll my eyes and look back at Sab, leaning into her ear

”It’s hitting.” I say,smiling big and giggling

”Dude me too im fucking fried” she says back into my ear, giggling back

“Why don’t we go play in the water” i say, grabbing onto her wrist. Her eyes widen.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all fucking night” she shouts, turning to topper.

”We’re going down to the beach. You comin?” She holds out her other hand to him, he exchanges a look with rafe, then topper looks at me, JJ, then back at sabrina

”Yea I’ll come.” He softly states. He taps rafes shoulder and nudges his head at us. I don’t look long enough to see Rafes reaction, I just turn to JJ, as he leads the way back to where we were outside with the pogues.

Once we reach them, I finally turn around to see Sabrina and Topper following right behind, with a fucked up out rafe trailing behind. I could always tell when he was coked out, not because of his pupils, but he stood a certain way. His legs when he walked were a lot more straight, like he was focusing on each step he made. He ran his hands through his hair a lot, which is exactly what he was doing right now.

I was disgusted with both myself and him for knowing what he was like when he was doing coke. I always wondered if he was embarrassed too.

we reach back to the edge of the sand, and I lean over to take my boots off.

”Wait you were serious?” Sab asks, Lookin to topper, her head leaning against his bicep.

”Dead serious” I state. Pulling off my socks before running towards the water.

The cold water against my toes runs a chill up my leg and I squeal out.

“FUCK ITS COLD” I shout back at the group watching me, all the pogues, plus Topper and Rafe.

“Could’ve told you that!” Sarah exclaims, leaning down to touch the water with her hands. I walk further down into the water, getting my jeans wet. I couldn’t help myself from venturing down enough to my calves. I needed the feeling to wake me up. Before, I could feel myself getting hazy, but this was waking me up.

“Alright y/n, I think that’s enough” Kie calls out,walking into the water. I could tell she was shocked by the cold at the way her body tensed.

”You guys are so boring” I mumble before turning back to the open water one last time. I took in a deep breath, and turned back, walking back into the sand.

“Let’s go back to the fire” Sarah says, holding onto my shoulder. We get back to the fire and I noticed that topper and rafe still stayed with us,

I look across and see rafe, his face hard and cold.

I furrow my brows and take my phone out to see that I had a missed text from him

The fuck are you dragging JJ around like that for?

and now you’re about to drown in that fuck ass ice cold water.

I roll my eyes and text him back

not like you would’ve saved me anyways

I look back up to see him, his face still the same. Before I could read the rest of his demeanor, I hear topper raise his voice. Rafe and I break eye contact to look over to see Topper smack the red solo cup out of JJ’s hand.

“Oh no” Cleo hissed, backing up.

“Fuck did you say to me you dirty fucking Pogue?” Topper seethed. JJ had a sly smirk on his face, and I watched his hands raise. Fuck.

He shoves Topper, and all hell breaks loose. Multiple punches are thrown between the two, JJ trying to knock Topper off his feet. Rafe starts running towards them and I scream out

”DON’T” he whips his head back and looks at me with a pleading face.

“Don’t” I whispered. My pleas were ignored when John B started punching Topper, which made the fight unfair. It was only right that Rafe joined. I knew the rules of the jungle far too well. It would be all downhill from here. The boys keep shouting profanities at each other, as we stand in a circle watching and pleading them to stop. The closer we get, the deeper into the water they go. Before I know it, John b slips and falls, his head dunking under water. I scream out and run to the edge. My head felt light and my vision blurred. I couldn’t tell what was happening, it was so dark, the waves were crashing, and I was fucked up.

Before he could keep his head above water for more than a few breaths, a figure dunked his head under again, holding it down with force.

”WHAT THE FUCK STOP IT HE CANT BREATHE” I screamed, a pair of arms holding me back. I didnt know who it was, but they dragged me back for enough that my feet were no longer touching the water, just wet sand.

“STOP IT. STOP IT.” I heard Sarah screaming. I think at this point I was on the verge of blacking out. The rest of the next few events came in a blur.

“Somebody do something” I half whispered and half screamed.

I watch another male figure stand behind the man with a dark object in his hands. There’s a click, and he points it at the man who was still holding John B underwater. It had to be JJ. I feel tears streaming down my face and I can barely breathe.

“Yo HES GOT A GUN”someone from the crowd hollers out. a cry escapes my lips as I lunge forward, still being held back by a stranger.

“JJ! Kiara screams out. I recognize her voice, but don’t see where it came from. My legs wobble and I struggle to keep myself up. I was terrified John B was going to die and someone was going to get shot.

“Yeah YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS” I hear JJ shout.

“JJ PLEASE” I cry out, my voice hoarse.

“What’s that princess?” He calls back. I’m taken aback and try to run after him again, slightly getting out of the strong grip against me, before I see Sarah running over to them.

”SARAH NO” Kie and I shout in unison.

I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Every breath felt like an eternity. I couldn’t imagine how John B felt, his arms were still flailing. God I hope that’s not rafe.

The person that JJ was holding a gun to raised his arms in defeat, and John B lifted his head up gasping for air. The pair of arms finally let me go as we all ran after to make sure he was okay. Before we could reach him though, JJ turns around and raises the gun in the air.

“OKAY EVERYONE LISTEN UP. GET THE HELL. OFF MY SIDE OF THE ISLAND.”

The last thing I remember are gun shots going off.

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