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callsigns-haze · 9 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."

...

Requests are open!

Tagging:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #dad!tyler owens #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n

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ferrstappen · 1 year ago

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SLUT! l MV1 imagine

a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘

Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.

Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.

In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.

You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.

You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.

Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.

Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.

As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.

“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.

“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.

“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”

You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.

Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen

Or something along those lines.

The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.

“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.

“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.

You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”

That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.

But it’s not like you wanted to.

After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.

The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.

In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.

It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.

But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.

As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.

You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.

You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.

The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.

Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fics #f1 fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you

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willowsnook · 18 days ago

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“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” (LN)

Lando norris x indycar!reader

request from @opastries81 book prompts here

—-------------------------------------------

“So if you are an F1 fan, tuning into IndyCar for the first time this year, or vice versa, I’ve made a little guide for you on which drivers match up.”

One of your friends had sent you the video that Will Buxton released earlier today, already going viral on racing twitter. You smirked as you saw a picture of your teammate Rossi pop up.

“Now here is a good one, if you like Alexander Rossi, you’ll want to root for Oscar Piastri this season,” Will said. “Off the track, they’ve both go the calm, collected demeanor down with that blunt dry sense of humor. On the track they both excel in calculated aggression - you never really worry about them taking too big of a risk, they know how to use analytics to their advantage.”

He was pretty spot on about Rossi, you’d been his teammate for two years now and you loved nothing more than to rile him up. Getting his normal collected demeanor to break was your favorite hobby.

“Now just for these pairings, the teams stay the same. So if you love Lando Norris, go ahead and buy Y/n Y/l/n merch for this season,” Will said. “Both drivers are much more outgoing and loud compared to their teammates, both on the track and off. They both get a lot of media scrutiny for their lifestyles but the podiums don’t live. These two are both future champions.”

Saving the video, you pulled up Lando’s contact info to text it over to him.

Y/N: How much did you pay him to say this?

You’d met Lando a couple of times at different racing events and you could definitely see why people compared the two of you. He was easy to get along with, and definitely more down to have fun than Rossi was.

LN: He gave me a discount this time. Are you going to be at COTA this weekend?

There was a major PR event going on this weekend to kick of the racing seasons and it was the first time it would include every series. From NASCAR to Rally to Indy to F1, it would have it all. You replied to tell Lando that you were going and you’d see him then. Your team already had a packed schedule but you were sure they had some kind of F1/Indy crossover on there.

—-------------------------------

The COTA event was already exhausting and it had only been one day. You’d spent all morning doing different challenges with other IndyCar drivers and now you were heading to the track to do a car swap. The idea was that you’d get to drive an F1 car that you had been fitted for a couple of weeks back. You knew that one of their drivers would be driving an Indycar so you weren’t surprised to see your twin standing by the engineers when you pulled up.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my American counterpart," Lando called out, his signature smile lighting up his face as you approached. He was already in his McLaren team gear, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

"Careful there, Norris. I might just show you how we do things across the pond," you teased back, pulling him into a quick hug.

The engineers were bustling around both cars—your IndyCar looking considerably bulkier next to the sleek McLaren F1 machine. The stark differences between the two vehicles made your stomach flutter with anticipation.

"Nervous?" Lando asked, noticing your gaze lingering on his car.

"Please," you scoffed, though your heart was racing. "Just trying to figure out how many laps I can get in before you're begging for your car back.”

The engineers around you chuckled as Lando rolled his eyes dramatically. "That's rich coming from someone who's about to experience proper downforce for the first time."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," you quipped, turning your attention to the McLaren sitting on the track.

You stood beside the McLaren, pulling on your gloves as one of the engineers double-checked your radio. Your fire suit felt a little too warm, your nerves a little too alert, but you hid it well. Years of competitive racing had trained you for high-stakes environments—this was just a different kind of adrenaline.

From across the way, you watched as Lando climbed into your IndyCar. He adjusted his seat like he’d done it a thousand times, but the smirk he tossed in your direction told you otherwise.

“Try not to stall it, princess!” he shouted across the pit lane.

You flipped him off with a grin. “Only if you promise not to forget where the brakes are!”

A few moments later, engines fired to life—yours a higher-pitched scream, his a deeper roar.

The track cleared. Lights blinked green.

You were off.

Lando

“This thing is wild,” Lando muttered under his breath as he took the first corner. The steering was heavier, more raw, more… alive.

There was no power steering. The feedback in the wheel was immediate, brutal, beautiful. He felt the bumps in the asphalt more than ever. It was like riding a lightning bolt with four wheels and no mercy.

He took a sweeping left with just a little too much throttle and felt the rear slide ever so slightly. He corrected it easily, but the grin on his face was unmissable.

“Okay, okay—I get it now,” he said to no one in particular. “This thing wants to fight.”

And God, he liked fighting.

Y/n

You’d never felt anything like it.

The moment you hit the throttle, it pinned you back like a rocket launch. The downforce was unreal. Corners you’d normally brake hard into, the McLaren stuck to like glue, begging you to push faster, harder, deeper.

You laughed into the comms, surprising the engineer on the other end.

“Everything okay?” they asked.

“This car is a cheat code,” you replied breathlessly, the giddy grin stretching across your face. “No wonder he’s so smug all the time.”

You took the esses with a precision you didn’t even know you were capable of. The car danced. And you followed.

You both rolled into the pits at nearly the same time, engines cutting out, helmets coming off.

Lando stepped out of the IndyCar with a wild look in his eyes, hair a mess, smile uncontained. “That was the most chaotic thing I’ve ever driven.”

You tugged your helmet off, your cheeks flushed from adrenaline. “And the McLaren? That car is black magic. It’s like it reads your mind before you do.”

You walked toward each other, sweaty and beaming, and met in the middle with an unspoken understanding. You’d each just experienced something sacred—each other’s world.

“Respect,” he said, holding out a fist for you to bump.

You knocked your knuckles against his. “Right back at you.”

A beat passed. Then another.

Finally, Lando grinned. “So… wanna trade lives for a season?”

You snorted. “Only if you’re ready to drive with no power steering and get elbowed off every street course by lap four.”

“Sounds like a party.”

The two of you walked to the garage together, breaking off to change back into your normal clothes, you in your oversized EC tee and athletic shorts. Lando was waiting for you at the front of the garage, scrolling on this phone. He looked up as he heard you come out.

“Grabbing dinner with Pato and Oscar, you in?” He asked and you shrugged, “Only if you’re paying.”

Pato and Oscar were already seated at a bar & grill nearby but Oscar lit up as he saw you.

“Y/n!” He said. “It’s been too long.”

He stood up to give you a hug and you giggled against him. “Wow, Pato never greets me like this.”

The Arrow-McLaren driver rolled his eyes, “I have to deal with you almost every weekend.”

"That's because I'm the superior McLaren driver," Oscar joked, sliding back into his seat with a playful wink.

"Oh, please," Lando interjected, pulling out a chair for you before taking his own seat. "I've seen your data, mate."

The banter flowed easily as you ordered drinks and food. It was refreshing to be around other drivers who understood the unique pressures of your world. While F1 and IndyCar had their differences, the core of it—the hunger for speed, the addiction to pushing limits—was identical.

"So how was the McLaren?" Pato asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. "Better than our IndyCar setup?"

"Different," you answered diplomatically, though your eyes betrayed your excitement. "The responsiveness is unreal. It's like the car is hardwired to your brain."

“See,” Lando boasted. “Everyone wants to be in F1.”

You rolled your eyes smiling, “Of course everyone does. They know they’d have to be tougher than nails to compete in Indy.”

“Boom!” Pato said as Lando groaned. As dinner finished up, you found yourself wishing the night wasn’t close to ending - Lando was feeling the same way. Pato and Oscar both headed back to the hotel but you lingered outside.

“Let’s go back to the track,” Lando suggested.

“And do what?” You asked, but were already following him.

“Walk around, look at the stars, I don’t know,” he said and you laughed.

“Alright Mr. Romantic,” you teased and he shot you a grin over his shoulder.

The track was pretty empty minus a few random engineers working in garages so it was easy to slip onto the track without anyone noticing.

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you followed Lando onto the empty track. The massive grandstands loomed in shadow against the star-filled Texas sky, making the circuit feel both eerie and magical.

"It's so different at night," you mused, running your hand along the pit wall as you walked. "Almost peaceful."

Lando nodded, hands tucked into his pockets. "Best time to be at a track, if you ask me. No cameras, no expectations."

You both wandered in comfortable silence, eventually finding yourselves at the first corner. Without discussing it, you sat down on the edge of the track, legs dangling over the side where the tarmac dropped off slightly to the run-off area.

"So," Lando began, leaning back on his palms, "is Will Buxton right about us? Are we really that similar?"

You pondered for a moment before answering, “I guess so, but I’m definitely the hot one.”

“Oh is that right?” Lando mused, his eyes burning into the side of your face as you looked up at the stars.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed. “What do you think?”

“I think that whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same,” he said quietly and you looked over at him.

“Lando Norris, are you hitting on me?” You asked, a smile playing on your face. He scooted closer to you and your breath hitched.

“Only if it’s working,” he muttered, eyes flickering down to your lips.

“It’s working,” you whispered.

His lips touched yours softly at first, hesitant and questioning. When you leaned into him, his hand came up to cup your face, deepening the kiss with newfound confidence. The world around you—the track, the stars, the distant sounds of crew members packing up—all faded away. There was only Lando, the warmth of his touch, and the racing of your heart that had nothing to do with driving.

#lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 :: part 1

꧁ eddie x female reader :: part 2 here

a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain

listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)

summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.

triggers: 18+ smut

author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.

The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.

His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.

The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.

If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.

Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.

The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.

Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.

He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.

The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.

Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.

Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.

Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.

Please don’t stop, please please.

The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.

Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.

You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.

“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”

The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.

You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.

“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.

Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.

His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.

When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.

“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”

It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.

The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.

He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.

You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.

Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?

Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.

His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.

He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.

Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”

This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”

After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?

A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”

And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.

He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.

The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.

But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.

That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.

That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”

His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”

When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.

The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.

Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”

A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”

“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”

You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”

“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”

Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.

You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”

The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”

He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.

“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”

“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”

Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.

“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”

You sighed, and shook your head yes.

The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.

His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.

He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”

Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.

Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.

Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.

“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.

A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”

You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.

“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.

“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.

You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”

Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.

Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”

“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”

He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.

Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”

You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”

His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.

Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.

Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.

Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.

He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.

Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.

That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.

When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.

The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.

“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”

Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.

Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.

Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”

A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”

He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”

A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”

You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”

He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.

But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.

“Do you ever miss it?”

He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”

That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.

You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.

Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.

🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire @aropodcastfuck

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie drabble #eddie blurb

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liobi · 14 days ago

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I wrote a dumb little fanfic about Stelle based off of @thedeerus 's superhero/villain fanart and like. two paragraphs of worldbuilding.

Title; I only see you when I'm dreaming

Whispers and hymns filled the air while the sweetly singing sun pulsed in tune with your heartbeats, despite the both of you putting time in a chokehold. You both could feel it slowly wresting control away from you, but you couldn’t let that happen, you couldn’t let this one loose, not when you both finally-

He looked at you. He gave you his stupid, dumb, giant smile as he reached and touched the golden cancer with his bare hand. “Sorry, Stelle, catch you later.”

“Caelus!”

He vanished. The room rattled as the Future opened up its maw and swallowed him and the golden cancer whole. You stuffed caffeine pills down your throat as fast as you could, you needed them to be able to focus on time without him. You jumped back one minute. Then two. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because he had ripped himself from the timestream towards a far flung future and no matter how far back you went, you’d never find him.

He had left you behind, and now you were all alone.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You turned, and a black cat that hadn’t been there previously at this time now stared deep into your eyes. “However, I can promise if you follow me, I will take you to a future where the two of you are reunited.”

You said okay, and that was that.

Stelle awoke to leather clad fingers gently tracing down her cheek, tucking some loose hair behind her ear, and gentle purple eyes met her own. “Kafka…”

“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” Kafka smiled, giving Stelle’s cheek a little pinch. “I need you to let go of Bladie and Silver Wolf.”

Stuck in extremely awkward poses, singular limbs frozen in instances of time, Blade and Silver Wolf glared impatiently at Stelle. She couldn’t really tell how long she had trapped them there for, but judging by the look they were giving her if she didn’t let them go immediately she was either going to wake up in the future with a non-lethal stab wound or banned from all social media and online games. Kafka was seemingly unaffected by the chokehold Stelle had over the time in that space but she could feel the whispers at the edge of her consciousness, guiding her to make her powers absent wherever Kafka’s arm traveled.

Like unclenching her jaw after a restless nap, Stelle relaxed and her hold over time vanished, dropping Blade and Silver Wolf into a disheveled pile in the narrow walkway of the motorhome. “Wait if you both are here then who’s driving-”

The motorhome hit a pothole at full speed, tipping and swerving the vehicle as Firefly screamed from the driver’s seat “Can someone please take the wheel from me?!” Blade and Silver Wolf rushed to the front as fast as they could stand.

Stelle felt the deep, purring warmth on her chest before she looked down to see a black cat curled there sleeping happily. She looked back to Kafka. “Do I really have to get up now? Can’t I have like… five more hours?”

“Aren’t you supposed to say minutes in this situation?” Kafka laughed, moving closer to the couch-turned-bed. “Lift your head up.” Stelle obliged. Kafka told Stelle what to do a lot, and she liked it too, but she never used her powers with Stelle. She slid into the space where Stelle’s head had been and pulled her head back down onto her lap this time. “You’ve got a big role today, superstar.”

“I think superstars should get to sleep in.”

“Maybe so.” She laughed and Stelle knew she was in, more naps with Kafka’s lap pillow, best day ever. Stelle closed her eyes and Kafka slowly stroked her hair, dragging fingertips from her forehead to the crown of her head in a slow, steady rhythm. It was almost hypnotic. “Another dream about your brother?”

Stelle didn’t provide an answer.

“Would you like me to make it so you don’t have any dreams?”

Stelle rolled her head closer to Kafka. “But then I might miss out on a dream about you.”

Kafka laughed again and shifted, bringing her head down to Stelle’s. Stelle kept her eyes closed but could feel Kafka’s breath against her lips. “Why would you want a dream when the real thing is right here?”

From the front of the motorhome, Silver Wolf squawked. “Oh my god, why do you two weirdos have to flirt in public-”

A giant ball of ice cold water burst over Stelle’s head, cruelly separating her from the sweet dream of her breath and lips and “Danny what the fuck?”

An impassive young man stood outside the broom closet, several similar water balls floating behind him. “Rehabilitation facility (prison) regulations state that residents (prisoners) must complete assigned tasks (unpaid labor) given to them in order to help residents (still prisoners) build a sense of community and ownership (Stockholm syndrome) of the space they (are prisoners in) inhabit, not take naps in (my kingdom) the janitor’s closet, are you going to stop interrupting me (no) anytime soon?”

Dan Heng looked at Stelle like she was a racoon he’d found unexpectedly eating out of his fridge. When she’d first arrived a month ago her interjections would cause him to stop and wait for her to speak her piece before he tried to continue, but it didn’t take him very long to learn to ignore them. Frankly most people at the correctional facility had gotten used to her efforts to make them either drop their guards or annoy them enough they slipped up.

Stelle hoped her crew was waiting for her, she wouldn't be left behind again, she would never be all alone again. She was leaving tonight and failure wasn’t an option.

And then she failed.

#honkai star rail #fanfic tag #extremely rough (by my standards)

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freak-accident419 · 7 months ago

Text

when worlds collide (literally)

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: As Josh had the audacity to change the radio station, depriving Wolf of the legendary sounds of Corey Hart, things begin to escalate. Once the car gets out of control, it accidentally collides into you.

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: gender-neutral reader, fluff, based on “We Live in Time”, minor car crash, strange meet cute, cursing, takes place in Future Man S1E04 “A Fuel’s Errand”, Josh drives a car instead of the Lyft, awkward but cute

(A/n: first fluff in MONTHS!!!!!! Thank you guys for being patient with me and still being here <3 In theory I might make a second part with smut but who knows :) i haven’t watched the movie yet so no spoilers please! i love you all, happy reading!)

“GUYS, FOR THE MILLIONTH FUCKING TIME, this is my dad’s car, so just be extra careful with it, okay?” Hushed Josh as he started the vehicle, setting the GPS to Lyle’s address.

As the trio found their TTD awfully low on Cameronium, Josh, Wolf, and Tiger went on a mission to obtain more. Hearing Tiger describe the biofuel, Josh was completely unable to identify it or its whereabouts. Luckily, he had connections; Josh knew that Tracy, one of the video game store clerks, had an ex-boyfriend, Lyle, who was some sort of chemist. Therefore, he could be a useful source to identify whatever the hell Cameronium was. Soon after retrieving the address, in which Josh had to expose his entire mission to the two unconvinced cashiers, the highly dysfunctional team would be on their way to find Lyle.

“You better not fuck this up again,” Tiger warns petulantly from the backseat (and very unhappy to be, at that), staring daggers at the back of Josh’s head.

“Oh, come on, Tiger, I’ve got us the address!” he reasoned tiredly, trying his absolute best to reinforce his dependability. “Because of me, we’re one step closer to getting our hands on Cameronium!”

Starting the engine, the radio turned on with it. The station was just in the middle of playing ‘Sunglasses at Night’ by Corey Hart, making Wolf’s eyebrows furrow in curiosity.

“What is this music, janitor?” He asks in a gruff voice as Josh drove out of his parking space, letting the GPS guide his way.

“Uhhh, this is Corey Hart,” Josh replies briefly, squinting from the California sun in his eyes, lowering the visor to give them shade.

Wolf continued to listen to the speakers admiringly. Finally something respectable in the year 2017 (which, ironically, was actually from 1983). “I like Corey Hart,” he says, prompting Josh to turn up the volume. He actually and genuinely likes something for once, he thought with relief.

And it was nice to see the previously apathetic sadist enjoy some tunes from the ‘80s, until he discovered the car’s replay button. The institute where Kyle was would be about half an hour away, and for the most part, Wolf had just been replaying the damn song every time it ended.

“Can we just—” Josh sighs as he reached for the skip button, his hand immediately being slapped away from Wolf.

“No.”

YOU WERE SO TOTALLY FUCKED.

Goddammit, did you have to sleep in this morning? This would be the hundredth damn time of the month you’d be late to work, and you couldn’t afford to show up tardy again.

You ran clumsily on the sidewalk, taking frequent sips of your coffee, which was stored safely in a stainless steel tumbler. You were making your way to your workplace as fast as you could, feeling as if your ankles could cramp up anytime. Your boss was quite brutal, and there was a slight chance you could even get fired from being late again, so you ensured that your journey there would be efficient.

After at least a minute of running, you were met with a damn intersection. In response to the light across the street that showed a big, orange palm, you smashed the crosswalk button multiple times and violently, expecting the light to change. And all you could hear was the robotic ‘wait, wait, wait’ every time you slammed it with your fist. God fucking dammit.

Well, actually…

There wasn’t much traffic at all in the intersection. Barely any cars, and even if there were, they would most certainly stop for you. You guessed it wouldn’t hurt if you made a run for it to the other side. Hell, people have done that shit before when you drove, and now it was time for you to cash in your right of way privileges. Would you rather be honked at by an angry driver or face the wrath of your unhinged boss?

Okay. Alright. Fuck this.

Letting your shoes drop from the sidewalk to the asphalt of the street, you began to walk, never once expecting what would happen next.

“Fuck, Wolf, let go of the wheel!” Josh exclaimed in terror as the vehicle skidded and squealed, moving dangerously fast down the narrow road.

“Not until you change it back!” Wolf retorts angrily after Josh had changed the station, tired of the soldier replaying the same damn song for several times in a row.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even remember the fucking station! And I wouldn’t be able to tell which one it was since the next song is probably already—fuck!”

At the mere sight of you in the middle of the crosswalk, Josh slammed his foot on the brakes, causing a loud squeal from the tires. However, he wasn’t exactly fast enough because the car would collide into you before it would completely stop.

“HOLY FUCK—”

“OH, SHIT!”

***

PAIN WAS QUITE LITERALLY THE ONLY THING that you could feel. Like, everywhere in your entire body. That, and a really shitty migraine.

As you slowly woke up, you could feel an incredibly bright light against your closed eyelids, hearing a blaring, constant ringing in your ear. And when you gradually came to your senses, you could feel various bandages covering your body, wrapped snugly around your tender skin. And you were also…

in a chair.

Your eyes opened instantly. You were in a narrow hallway at a hospital, sat down in a goddamn chair. Some kind of transport chair with small wheels, at least. There was a row of normal chairs across from you. A person in that chair across from you. Also, your posture was literal ass. Why the fuck were you on a goddamn chair instead of an actual bed—

“Oh, shit—” Josh blurted as he realized you were awake, sitting up and fumbling with the objects around him.

You began to acknowledge the appearance of the stranger sitting in front of you, after hearing his sudden, muted curse. He was a young, boyish man, brunette, and there was an almost comical look of extreme fear in his eyes. He immediately sat up from slouching and tapping his foot the second he realized you were awake. Before the interruption, his phone had also been lazily held over his lap, the screen angled towards your line of vision. You quickly recognized that he was playing an online game of sudoku—struggling, as well. And at the moment, you couldn’t think about anything else except for the fact that he needed to place a seven beside that two.

He blinked at you, then noticed your face, whatever expression you had. Your face felt numb, but you presumed it instinctively reflected your internal thoughts, because he somehow read you right away.

“They, uh, they needed the bed back,” the man stuttered out, placing his phone back in his pocket.

Your eyes still scanned the white hallway, slightly turning your head to observe the many doctors and nurses rushing from one place to another. Then you looked back at the man in front of you again, curiously.

“I, uh,” he began once more, presenting a clear plastic bag in front of you. “This is what you had with you. Uh, your phone… which is… a bit cracked, actually. Damn. Uh, wallet. Oh, and uh,” he reached for a bigger item from the ground, holding it up, “a tumbler. Nice stickers, by the way.”

He was… painfully awkward, to say the very least, holy shit.

“U-uh, thanks,” you nodded, feeling your throat dry, as this was the first time you spoke ever since waking up. The man, seeing that you were in no condition to grab or even reach for your belongings in that plastic bag, set it on the empty chair to the left of him.

There was another pause, you hearing only the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above the two of you, alongside the swift footsteps or screechy wheels of gurneys at the end of the hall. You were unable to properly acknowledge anything at the moment because your mind was occupied with something entirely different. You had sensed an irritable thought lingering in your head until you instantly realized what it was.

“Seven,” you blurted out randomly.

“What?”

You cleared your throat. “Your sudoku. Seven should be under the two in the first column. That was your, uh, missing number.”

Josh immediately pulled his phone back out, opening his sudoku app. He tapped and typed in your suggestion before letting out a small gasp, either in surprise or relief. Both, actually, as the number you told him was correct.

“Oh,” he sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit.”

You simply nodded.

“I’m, uh—I’m Josh, by the way,” he says, possessing a friendly smile on his face as he puts his phone away in his pocket for the second time.

Considering the very shitty position you were in, you appreciated his smile nonetheless and mimicked it.

“Y/n,” you answer softly. Josh smiled warmly and nodded at your response. That is, until you asked, “I, uh… Do I know you?”

His eyebrows raised with guilt, pupils looking anywhere but at you, until they mustered up the courage to at least glance at the tip of your nose.

“Oh, um… yeah, no, I uh…” he paused culpably. “I ran you over.”

Well, shit.

“Well, shit,” you mumbled.

And in this moment, you realized—pretty privilege really did exist in all possible scenarios.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you reply, surprising him and even yourself. You normally wouldn’t let this slide, but you weren’t sure if it was the overwhelming lights, the morphine, or the guy’s stupidly charming face that drowned out any possible anger from you. Maybe it was just all of them combined. Anyways, you realized that this hospital visit would’ve given you a valid excuse to not only be late to work, but be a complete no-show. Hell, if anything, you felt grateful for this.

“So, um…” you began, “how did… I mean, did you not see me, or…?”

“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I… My passenger was acting out because I changed the radio station. He has, uh… issues.”

“Wow...” It could’ve been a drunk driver. The sun could’ve been in his face. Hell, he could’ve pulled a Lucy Whitmore and dropped a CD in the car, but you could’ve nearly died because of a goddamn radio station?

“I changed the station after he looped the hell out of the song,” Josh adds.

“Jesus Christ,” you huff in disbelief. “How—How old is this passenger of yours anyway?”

“Uh, right… About… About ten…” he sighs.

“Yeah, I mean, that makes sense—”

“…years older than me,” he finished. Dammit. This literally could not get any worse.

“Oh—”

“In theory,” he adds, making you raise an eyebrow in bemusement. Realistically, since Wolf was from 2162, he would be, like… more than a hundred years younger than Josh. Of course, he couldn’t explain that to you. Hell, he thought he seemed crazy to you already. He probably already lost his chances with another cute person. And no, he wasn’t hoping to charm you just to avoid a large, angry fine. You were genuinely quite pretty to him.

“Oh—” Inappropriately, you felt a smile begin to form on your lips as you started to giggle. “Oh my god, what? You’re kidding, that’s—” As you chuckled, you felt your weak, stiff body vibrate. And consequently, you felt a sudden, unpleasant stab in your chest, hissing from the pain.

“Shit, are you okay?” Josh asks instantly, looking into your eyes with pure concern.

“Oh, yeah, no, uh, it just… hurts like hell whenever I laugh,” you huffed.

Guilt washed over him once again like a violent, mortifying wave as he remembered how much injuries you suffered because of him. “Fuck, I am so, so sor—”

“No, no, don’t worry,” you whisper, “I just… God…” A big, humored sigh left your lips as you gazed softly into Josh’s eyes. “Okay, what—what song was he even listening to?”

“Funnily enough, it was, uh… ‘Sunglasses At Night’ by Corey Hart.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you scoff, trying to hold yourself from laughing as you felt the sharp pain coming back. “Jesus Christ, you’re kidding me, right? Why—Why would anyone in their thirties throw a tantrum over Corey Hart?”

“I know, this guy’s just…” Josh twirled his finger by his temple, signifying that his passenger was indeed “cuckoo”.

You scoffed in amusement by his gesture, and then the two of you were silent after. Just smiling at each other, gazes switching from the floor, to the walls, back to one another’s eyes. You enjoyed his company, actually, and he definitely enjoyed yours too.

“Oh,” Josh mutters in recollection, grabbing your attention. “So—so anyways, uh… Are you… Are you gonna sue me?” He asks with slight caution in his face, his big eyes softening with furrowed eyebrows. “Because, uh, I understand that, but—”

“Can I be completely honest with you?” You interject with a weak chuckle as the brunette gives you a nod. “If anything… I’m kinda… grateful that you hit me with your car.”

Josh’s eyes widened immediately. “Seriously?” He scoffs in disbelief, unsure if you were joking or being morbidly serious.

“Look, it’s—it’s ridiculous. I was, uh, on my way to my job… Actually, I was terribly late, I slept past my alarm again, I literally had to run to my workplace, and then… Then I had to, uh, jaywalk, which, um, definitely explains this… predicament. So it’s not entirely your fault. But… yeah. I mean, I was on my… like, millionth late strike this month and my boss is a total asshole. Luckily, I have an actual excuse to not show up this time, so… he can’t exactly yell at me for being run over.”

“Wow,” Josh replies shortly.

You sucked the air between your teeth. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I get it,” he remarked with a shrug, recalling how Stu Camillo replaced Kronish, which was a result of him meddling with the past. “I have an asshole of a boss now too.”

“Hm, really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he chuckles.

The two of you shared another friendly, soft glance as a contented sigh left your lips afterwards. “Well… Thank you, Josh, for… well, running me over and therefore helping me avoid the wrath of my boss.”

“You’re welcome,” he says hesitantly, “I… think?” God, he was actually charmingly adorable. You really couldn’t even consider suing that face.

“Yes,” you grin widely, “and if it makes you feel any better, you were way more pleasant than that one guy I had a fender bender with.”

Josh laughs softly. “Yeah?” You nodded in response.

There was another pause, a comfortable moment of silence between the two of you as both of your faces turn flustered.

“Look, I’d—I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least offer something to you, other than paying for your hospital bills, of course, but my work has this holiday party coming up in a few days. Maybe I can bring you along? I just—I really wanna make this up to you. It’s—it’s nice, there’s drinks, food, is that—does that seem good?” He fiddled with his fingers as he spoke, hoping you’d be content with his proposal.

You smile brightly, almost in disbelief as you were given the offer. “That sounds lovely.”

“Great! Great, uh, I’ll—I’ll text you the information. Can I… get your number?” He asks, getting his phone out from his pocket for the last time.

You agreed cheerfully as you began to list the digits in your phone number. “You gonna send me your insurance and plate number too so I can properly report you for this?”

Josh tensed up at your words, which were amusing only to yourself. “I—”

“I’m just messing with you,” a giggle left your lips as the man in front of you sighed in relief. “I’m sorry.”

“No no, I deserved that,” he chuckles softly. “So… Will I be seeing you there?”

You smiled widely. “You will.”

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x gn!reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #josh futturman x gn!reader #josh futturman x you #josh futturman fluff #future man #future man fluff #future man 2017 #future man x reader #mike schmidt x reader #derek danforth x reader #fluff

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avonne-writes · 1 year ago

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Angel AU drabble

A lot of people asked about this AU, so here's a little drabble to hold you over until I can start writing this story 😇 Read the premise here

Invisible to the human eye, Gale follows his ward everywhere he goes. After a few years of careful guidance, humans tend to become more independent, and then he has time to pick up a second or even a third case, but John is a rescue. He’s going to need all of Gale's attention for a much longer time if his soul is to be saved. It’s exciting to be challenged with such a difficult ward. Neglected by an incompetent guardian - who's now demoted to administrator - he went down the path towards Hell. Gale's priority is to guide him back. His second, more personal goal is to make him happy too. They’ll have to see how John manages, but Gale will do his best.

Currently, they're on a dirty bus that coughs a trail of smoke as it chugs on towards the most dangerous neighbourhoods of the city. Gale tried to discourage John from boarding the repulsive vehicle, but his suggestion was ignored. It’s only their first day though - Gale just has to find the right technique to get through the wounded exterior of his soul. For now, he just settles down beside John and radiates an aura that keeps people from sitting next to him. He can tell that a stranger's closeness would distress John.

There are earbuds in John's ears. Gale examines them curiously, leaning in real close to see the emotions flickering through John's mind as he listens to the music. Human music has always fascinated Gale. He used to wonder if humans were trying to find the tunes of Heaven, but he knows that's not the case ever since he discovered rap music. He wants to learn John's musical taste. It could come in handy if Gale wants to influence his mood in the future.

The bus rolls to a stop, and John moves to get off. Again, Gale tries to hold him back. This isn’t a good place - he can already see the stains of malice peeling off the walls of a house by the bus stop, like a black, rotten layer of skin. He knocks a woman's suitcase over and makes a backpacker move to block John's way, but John is determined. He shoulders his way out of there and gets off the bus.

Outside, the night greets him with a chill and cruel blows of the wind. John's bruised face hurts as he squints against it. As he takes off towards an alleyway, Gale makes that wind stronger, even though his own nose wrinkles at the smell of depravity it blows out from the direction they're headed.

"Why don’t you go back home? You could take a hot shower there." He tells John gently. If he talks to John from the ethereal plane, his words form suggestions in John's mind, ideas that he thinks are his own. It's the easiest tool to use. Humans usually go along with what they call their sixth sense. And indeed, John stops. But a moment later, he squares his shoulders and resumes his steps.

Gale frowns. He has to step up his game.

They enter an establishment that Gale identifies as a nightclub. A shady one. Spilled drinks sticky on the floor, cigarette smoke, knives tucked into pockets, unprotected sex in the putrid bathroom. Gale can hear, see and smell it all as he traces John's steps, but his senses also reach beyond that. The place is swarming with demons and malicious spirits. Their waste litters the ethereal plane and clings to Gale's feet until he blasts it off in disgust.

His feathers ruffle. Behind him, his wings move from their relaxed position to a casual back-shield. He doubts that the slimy creatures cowering from him in the corners would attack him, but it never hurts to be cautious. As it is, the sea of demons threaded through the dancing human crowd parts for him, hissing at his light. His lower ranking siblings, those few who had the strength to brave this place, all seem to breathe a sigh of relief when he nods at them in greeting.

"Sir." They say as he passes.

"Keep up the good work." He replies calmly.

John doesn’t stop on the dance floor, so he doesn’t linger either, no matter how much fun it is to see the cowardly demons skitter, scared that he might smite them. He follows John to the back of the club, then out into the alley behind it.

There, they wait. It’s raining. Water soaks through John's hoodie. The residue of malevolent beings falls from the sky with every raindrop. Soon enough, Gale’s brushing its black soot off his wings. His iridescent white feathers contrast harshly with it.

"You don’t want to do this." He tells John. "Come on, why don't we get out of here?"

As if in reply, John mutters to himself. "The fuck am I doing here."

Gale smiles. "You don’t belong here."

He can feel the ideas battling in John's head, and he tastes the sweet scent of a step in the right direction, but suddenly, in a sharp twist, John's thoughts plummet into despair. Unpleasant memories swirl in his mind. "Right where I belong."

Gale's wings twitch. This won't be easy. They have a long road ahead of them, don't they?

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #fallen angel au #my writing

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trekscribbles · 6 months ago

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The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Two

Chapter One

The building wasn’t supposed to explode.

Well, it was, but it wasn’t supposed to explode yet.

Parker had the C4 charges in her bag, ready for her to plant them against the support beams in the basement at the half-constructed LanCast offices. The blast wouldn’t take down the building, just shake the foundation enough that the resulting investigation would find the cheap ash mixture in the concrete, and they’d be able to prove that Stephen Lancaster had embezzled the city grant money that was supposed to go into his new high-rise company building.

The plan had been for her to place the charges an hour ago, but she’d gotten distracted by the candy store down the road and had been late. Now, she stood on the sidewalk across from the burning office, watching their evidence literally go up in flames, listening to the firefighters yell directions as they fought to control the destruction. Normally she enjoyed a good explosion, but this one made her feel the way Hardison said he felt when he jumped off buildings.

She was supposed to be inside.

“Guys?” she tried again, holding her finger to her earbud. “Can anybody hear me?”

The coms had been silent all afternoon, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. Hardison had pulled an all-nighter getting their paperwork together and was napping back at the hotel, and Nate and Sophie were across town distracting Lancaster so Parker could break into his building. Eliot was probably out shopping for organic groceries at the nearest vegan market. She’d asked him to make her brownies to celebrate the her birthday (which wasn’t for another two months, but Eliot never asked), and he’d only agreed after she promised to eat some vegetables first. He’d said something about a vegetarian bourguignon, but she’d tuned him out when he started listing ingredients.

She’d give the Centenary Diamond to hear him ramble about beans and onions now.

More sirens cut through the air, and Parker drew back as a police car and a black SUV joined the dozen law enforcement and first responder vehicles already parked on the street. The back door of the SUV opened, and Lancaster threw himself out of the car with a cry of dismay.

A police officer stopped him as he ran for the building, and Parker slipped across the street to join the crowd gathered outside the ring of cones and police tape.

“Mr. Lancaster,” the officer said. “We need you to confirm that no one was inside the building.”

“I don’t know,” Lancaster answered breathlessly. “The foreman said he might stop by to check on something. How did this happen?”

The officer guided Lancaster toward a group of firefighters, and Parker followed in the crowd. “We’re not sure yet. Captain Stanley should be able to give you more information.”

They moved out of earshot, but it only took a few minutes for Parker to duck the tape, find an unattended coat and helmet, and move to the side of a firetruck behind Lancaster and the captain. “—can’t believe this happened,” Lancaster was saying. “I never imagined the threats were real.”

“What threats?” the officer said.

Lancaster put a hand in his pocket and handed over a folded envelop. “This showed up in my downtown office yesterday morning. It says there’s a group of thieves targeting me, and that they were planning to blow up my building. I get so many threats each week, I never thought anything of it.”

Parker glanced over her shoulder. “Nate,” she hissed. “I really need you to hear me now. We have problems.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to come in to the station to give a statement,” the officer said. “Anything you can give us about this group of thieves will help us...”

He kept talking, but a shout from the crowd pulled her attention away. Hardison. She started toward him, relief washing through her, but let out another cry that cut through her chest like a bullet. “Parker! Move, please, I have to—”

He tore through the police tape and broke toward the building, but two other officers blocked his way and dragged him back from the fire. “Let me go, she’s inside—please, let me go. Let me—”

“I got him,” Parker said, pushing between the officers and setting her hand on Hardison’s arm. “Come on, sir, this way.”

He fought her for a moment, still intent on forcing his way through the barricade, until she put her hand against his cheek to turn his face from the fire.

“Please,” he whispered, already sagging against her.

She held him up, moving to block his view of the building. “Hardison,” she said firmly, hating the way the flashing lights highlighted the anguish on his face.

He blinked at her, opened his mouth, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Parker?”

“Yes,” she said.

He threw his arms around her, crushing her against his chest and burying his face in her neck. “Thank God,” he sobbed. “Girl, I thought—I saw the news, and I couldn’t get you on the coms, and I thought—”

Guilt prickled through her. Hardison was always so careful about the way he touched her, making sure she had space and choice and an escape route. But his shoulders shook against her cheek, and she pressed back into his hug as a silent apology. “I hadn’t gone in yet,” she murmured.

He pulled away, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “What happened?”

“I think we’re blown,” Parker said, frowning at the building. “Lancaster just showed up and said he received a warning that a bunch of thieves were going to blow up his office.”

“But you didn’t...?”

Parker shook her head. “It was already burning when I got here. What’s going on with the coms?”

“I don’t know.” Hardison’s eyes were on the fire now, too, and he let go with one hand to fish in his pocket for his phone. “I woke up and saw this all on the news, and when no one answered their phones, I thought...”

Right, phones. Hardison kept saying she should carry one of those with her, but it never made sense when they had the earbuds. Who else was she going to talk to?

“Where are the others?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Hardison said. He showed her his screen, which flashed no service across the top. “I can’t get ahold of anyone.”

Parker shivered as a pulse of worry worked its way down her spine. No coms? No phones? Lancaster's warning, and now the building? Something was wrong.

“Eliot said to go back to base if the coms ever failed,” Hardison said, breaking through her spiral. “I guess that’s the hotel.”

Parker nodded. He’d walked them all through it—how to take winding routes that changed direction without warning, how to spot a tail, how to get rid of it. How to approach the base carefully in case it had been compromised. Unease fluttered in her stomach, but she pushed it down and gave Hardison a small smile.

“Can I drive?”

Hardison groaned, sighed, and handed over his keys.

Nate and Sophie were waiting for them at the hotel.

Eliot was not.

They’d made it back without trouble, even if the extra turns and backtracking had cost them extra time. Sophie met them at the door and ushered them into the room, where Nate was planted pensively in front of the window. He spoke without looking at them.

“Lancaster ducked us. We lost him. What’s going on with the coms?”

Hardison dropped onto the couch and dragged his laptop across the coffee table. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to look into it.”

“Do you think it was Lancaster?” Sophie asked. She had closed the door behind them and was pacing before it, her shawl clutched tight around her shoulders.

Parker sat on the arm of the couch. “Or whoever warned him?”

“Yeah, about that,” Hardison said, without looking up from his laptop. “Who the hell could have warned him? Our aliases are air-tight, a’ight, didn’t nobody see through those. Maybe someone on his staff recognized one of us?”

“We would have recognized them, too,” Sophie said.

Hardison shrugged and opened his mouth, but Nate cut him off. “The phones aren’t working, either. Have either of you heard from Eliot?”

Parker shook her head, and Hardison scooted closer to his laptop.

“I might be able to track him. Give me a sec.”

Nate waited. They all did, tense under the weight of anxiety and silence. Hardison tapped his keyboard, Sophie rubbed her forefinger over her thumbnail, and Nate stared out the window. Parker tried to remember what kinds of vegetables Eliot said he was going to make her eat that night. She liked it when he picked the weird ones—black carrots and watermelon radish and fiddleheads. She liked to stand behind him and sneak the pieces he’d chopped up and smile when he stuttered at her to stop. She liked to share the space with him while he created.

She did not like the way Hardison’s eyes squinted up as he read his screen, or the way he covered his mouth and took out his phone. “Does anyone have service?”

One by one, the others shook their heads.

Hardison glanced at Parker. “Okay. We’re looking for a signal jammer—a walkie-talkie, or another phone, maybe even a router. Something that’s not supposed to be there.”

She bounded to her feet and threw herself into searching/destroying the room, upending chairs, de-shading lamps, ripping down curtains. The others took slightly more reserved approaches, but Parker was the one who found the cellphone taped to the back of the register.

Hardison held it in his palm and frowned. “Uh-oh.”

The balloon of hope that had been inflating in Parker’s chest popped. She couldn’t voice the question, but Hardison answered anyway.

“This isn’t a jammer… it’s more like my EMP emitter. This is what knocked out our coms, and our phones. It sends out a small, targeted signal, probably only has power in this room, but when we were all here yesterday, it would have been enough.”

“Can you reverse it?” Nate asked.

Hardison shook his head. “I can turn it off, but we have to wait for our devices to come back online. What I can do, though, is transfer the info on our phones over to new ones, so we’ll know if Eliot tries to call.”

Nate spoke to the window. “Do it.”

Parker frowned at Nate as Hardison went back to work, but Nate was busy with his own phone. This was taking too long. If they’d been found out, if someone had gotten to Eliot—

“Okay,” Hardison said. “I need new phones. Parker, can you—?”

She was out of the room and halfway down the hall before he finished talking. Nate didn’t like it when she stole from non-marks, but she didn’t have time to find a phone store, and she’d return them all before this was over. There were plenty of people in the lobby, and it only took a few moments to lift four shiny new-to-her phones from their pockets, bags, and purses.

She took the stairs back up to the room, keeping an eye on the other hotel guests the way Eliot had taught her. Remember the faces you see. Find details that stand out and hold on to them. Facial features, voices, walks. Things that are harder to change.

She noticed those things easily enough, but she’d never understand how he could remember so much about the people in the background.

How much he saw. What he thought was important.

She ran faster.

“Got them,” she said, slipping into the room and dropping the phones on the couch beside Hardison. He lifted one and pried the back off, then pulled a chip out of Nate’s already half-dissembled phone and stuck it into the new one. He snapped the back closed and turned it on, then held it up with a nod. “There. Eliot called two hours ago, and he left a voicemail.”

He tapped the screen and held it out so they could listen on speaker.

“Nate.”

Parker swallowed. Eliot’s voice on the message was cold and flat—she’d never heard him like that before.

“We’re burned. Get Sophie and Hardison and go to another hotel—new names, new cards, everything. Get rid of your phones. Don’t leave a trail—I’ll find you. I just got a text from an unknown number with a picture of Parker on her way to the LanCast building, and then a message saying they had her.” There was a pause, the crash of a slamming door through the speaker. “I’m on my way to her now. Be ready.”

The message ended. All eyes went to Parker, who could only stare back as her body went cold. “They didn’t have me,” she whispered.

Nate swore. “They set a trap. Hardison, can you get a track on him?”

Hardison’s eyes were wide, and filled with all the terror coursing through Parker’s veins.

“Last location was the LanCast office,” he whispered. “But the signal went dead an hour ago, when...”

He didn’t finish.

He didn’t have to.

#leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #nate ford #sophie devereaux #the bushwhack job #leverage fanfic #fanfic #my fic

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soulbrothershow · 3 months ago

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Raising Your Vibration: Aligning with Divine Frequency

There comes a moment in every seeker’s journey when they realize that everything—every thought, every action, every note of music, every word spoken—carries a vibration. The universe itself hums with an infinite resonance, and within it, we are not separate; we are instruments, either in harmony or discord with the great cosmic symphony. To raise our vibration is not merely a metaphor or an abstract spiritual concept—it is a return to our divine essence, an attunement to the sacred frequency of creation.

But what does it truly mean to raise your vibration? And why does it matter?

The Language of Frequency

Ancient cultures understood what modern science is just beginning to rediscover: everything is energy. From the Ethiopian Bible to the mystical texts of the East, there are whispers of a hidden knowledge—the power of sound, the sacredness of breath, the unseen forces that govern existence. Even the name of the Divine, Yahweh, is spoken as a breath, a vibration that calls forth life itself.

To raise your vibration is to shift into a higher state of consciousness, where clarity replaces confusion, peace replaces turmoil, and love becomes the guiding force. Low vibrations—rooted in fear, anger, greed, and lust—keep us tethered to illusions, to cycles of suffering, to the noise of the world that drowns out the divine melody. But higher vibrations—rooted in love, wisdom, compassion, and truth—elevate us beyond the material, beyond the distractions, into alignment with the Source.

The Sacred Path to Higher Frequencies

Raising your vibration is not about performing rituals for the sake of appearances or adopting spiritual practices as trends. It is a deeply personal, transformative process—one that demands intention, discipline, and surrender.

1. The Power of Sound and Music

Music has always been a vehicle for spiritual elevation. Not all music is created equal—some songs carry high frequencies that lift the soul, while others drain and distort our energy. This is why certain artists, like Stevie Wonder, Bob Marley, and Jimi Hendrix, resonate so deeply with those on a spiritual path. Their music is encoded with something beyond technique; it is infused with spirit, with a vibration that transcends the physical and touches the soul.

When we listen with intention, we do more than hear—we feel, we see, we become. There are songs that transport us beyond time, moments where sound is not entertainment but a portal. To immerse oneself in high-frequency music is to bathe in sonic light, to realign the heart with the eternal rhythm of the universe.

2. The Purification of Thought and Speech

Every thought is a vibration. Every word spoken carries weight. What we think, we become; what we speak, we manifest. Raising your vibration requires an awareness of the energy we put into the world. Negative self-talk, gossip, and idle speech lower our frequency, while words of truth, love, and affirmation elevate us.

Even in silence, vibration exists. This is why meditation, prayer, and deep contemplation are essential—they tune us inward, away from external noise, into the frequency of the Most High.

3. The Temple of the Body

The body is an instrument, a sacred vessel that holds the energy we cultivate. What we consume—physically, mentally, and spiritually—affects our vibration. Processed foods, excessive stimulation, and unhealthy environments weigh us down, while natural foods, clean water, and intentional movement raise our energy.

But beyond just food and exercise, the way we engage in intimacy, the energy we allow into our space, and the emotions we harbor all play a role in our frequency. Sexuality, for example, is not just physical—it is an exchange of energy, a merging of vibrations. When engaged in carelessness, it can deplete us; when honored as sacred, it can elevate us.

4. Detachment from Lower Frequencies

Not everyone is meant to walk with you as you rise. Some energies exist only to keep you bound, to test your discernment, to challenge your ability to let go. There are people, places, and habits that, no matter how familiar, no longer resonate with your spirit. To raise your vibration means to release what no longer serves your highest self.

This can be painful. It can feel like loss. But in truth, it is expansion. When you release the weight of lower frequencies, you make space for something greater—relationships that nurture, environments that inspire, and experiences that align with your evolution.

The Journey Home

Raising your vibration is not about superiority. It is not about claiming enlightenment while looking down on those who are still finding their way. It is about remembering. Remembering that you are a spiritual being, temporarily housed in flesh, momentarily walking this Earth but eternally connected to the Divine.

As you elevate, you become a beacon. Others will be drawn to your light—not because of ego, but because the soul recognizes truth when it sees it. Some will misunderstand. Some will resist. But the ones who are meant to align with you will rise with you.

In the end, to raise your vibration is to return to love. Not the conditional love of the world, but the divine love that has no beginning and no end. It is to see beyond illusion, to hear the silent music of the universe, and to walk in harmony with the Most High.

And in that vibration, you are free.

#black tumblr #artists on tumblr #artwork #music #spirituality #healing #music frequency #higher frequency #frequencies #raise your vibration #stevie wonder #bob marley #jimi hendrix

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leiuvr · 2 months ago

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BOUND BY FIRE | SYLUS LOVE AND DEEPSPACE, COMPLETED (M) | CHAPTER 8

Chapter Synopsis: Sylus brings Luna to his penthouse for safety. Elias appears, offering Luna a chance to break the bond and live a normal life. Sylus pleads for her trust, promising to find a way to for them to live without Elias's interference.

Word count: Approx. 3,238 words

A/N: A long one for ya'll <3

CHAPTER 8: THE PRIZE OF THE CURSE

Night had fallen, draping the city in a cloak of darkness punctuated by the glittering lights of the metropolis. Sylus, his expression grave, had decided to bring Luna to his penthouse.. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone, vulnerable, after the day's revelations and the lingering threat of Elias. His own home, a fortress of arcane wards and familiar comforts, offered a sense of security, a place where he could keep her close, protected.

The drive was silent, the tension in the car thick and palpable. Luna’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a storm of anger, confusion, and a growing sense of dread. The book, the attack on Sylus' penthouse, the constant whispers of Elias, it was all too much.

The car pulled into the underground garage of Sylus' building, the sleek vehicle gliding to a smooth stop. The elevator ride to the penthouse was swift and silent, the air heavy with unspoken questions. The doors opened onto the opulent space, the panoramic view of the city a stark contrast to the turmoil within Luna.

Sylus led her to the living area, the minimalist decor a blend of dark woods, polished stone, and brushed metal, reflecting his refined taste. The grand piano stood in one corner, its polished surface reflecting the city lights, a silent testament to his hidden depths. The air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as he guided her to a plush sofa.

“Luna,” he began, his voice low and serious, “we need to talk.”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on him, her heart pounding in her chest. She had a thousand questions, a thousand fears, and she needed answers.

Before he could delve into the heavier topics, Sylus, sensing her unease, decided to offer a moment of respite. He moved away from the sofa, his movements smooth and deliberate, and walked towards the grand piano.

"Come," he said, his voice softer now, a gentle invitation. "Let me show you something."

Luna hesitated for a moment, then rose and followed him. He sat down at the piano, his fingers resting lightly on the keys. The city lights reflected in the polished surface, creating a soft, ethereal glow.

He began to play.

The melody was hauntingly beautiful, a melancholic tune that spoke of longing and loss, but also of hope and resilience. The notes flowed from his fingers with effortless grace, filling the penthouse with a soothing, calming energy. Luna watched him, mesmerized, the music weaving its magic around her, easing the tension in her shoulders.

As he played, Sylus glanced up at her, a soft smile gracing his lips. His crimson eyes, usually intense and guarded, were filled with a gentle warmth, a vulnerability that surprised her. When the melody ended, the silence that followed was filled not with tension, but with a quiet peace. Luna felt a sense of calm wash over her, a brief respite from the storm within.

"That was beautiful," she said, her voice soft, her gaze lingering on him.

"It is an old melody," he replied, his voice low, his fingers tracing the keys. "One that has brought me comfort in times like this."

He rose from the piano and walked towards her, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, his touch sending a wave of warmth through her.

"Before we talk," he said, his voice soft, "let me offer you this. A moment of peace, a glimpse of something beautiful amidst the chaos."

He led her to a balcony overlooking the city. The night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights twinkled like a million stars scattered across a velvet cloth. They stood there in silence for a few moments, the beauty of the night sky a balm to their troubled souls.

Sylus pointed out constellations, his knowledge of astronomy surprisingly vast. He spoke of ancient myths and legends associated with the stars, his voice a soothing murmur that filled the silence with a sense of wonder. Luna listened, captivated, her worries momentarily forgotten.

These moments, these glimpses of Sylus' hidden depths, offered a glimmer of hope, a reminder that even amidst the darkness, there was beauty, there was warmth, there was a connection that transcended the curse.

But the reprieve was fleeting. “You cast it upon us at the time of my death.”

Luna’s breath hitched. The words echoed the fragmented visions she had seen, the whispers of a love that was both a blessing and a curse. “What… what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He continued, “Dragon shifters are vicious beings. They are said to kill as that is what they are born to do.”

Luna looked at him deeply, trying to puzzle the pieces together. “What about you?”

Sylus sighed, shifting his eyes to the city underneath. “I fit into that description… until you came around.” His voice is soft and gentle. “You broke into my chambers one night due to pure curiosity of our kind. I was drawn to kill you that night but there is something in you that stopped me.”

“You saw past the monster that lies within. By then, I felt something in me that dragon shifters never feel. I felt joy when you’re near, longing when you’re not, pain when you leave. I never thought I could defy the realities of my kin.”

“That one very night when Elias made humans and hunters join alliances and lead an onslaught to kill me. You were there in my chambers, creating some sort of barrier around my tower. I knew if I didn’t let you out of there they’d kill you too. As stubborn as you are, you refused, promising to fight along my side.”

Luna stood there, listening to every word being uttered by Sylus. “You fought. We fought until the both of us couldn’t anymore. The blood, the sweat, the tears, I remember it all, I remember how they kicked your bloodied body. It pains me that I cannot do anything as I am losing consciousness.”

Sylus' voice begins to crack as he tries to trace every single detail of his hidden trauma. “As they left the premises, you still fought, crawling to me.”

-------------

Lyra crawled with the strength left within her system. “Sylus.” She croaked. She clawed her way until she reached the Sylus, laying there. A smile still written across his lips.

“Lyra.” Sylus whispered. She held him in her arms as tears welled up her eyes. Sylus held Lyra’s hand to pass on a silver dagger. “You must press on.”

Lyra shook her head in protest, “No!” trying to shove the dagger away. “I..I can heal you.” As she was about to chant out a spell with a little energy she has left, Sylus took the dagger in his palm then dug the blade through his chest. Lyra, taken aback, yelled in pure agony.

“No! Sylus, no!” She cried only for Sylus to shove the dagger deeper into his heart. “Why?”

A faint smile still stuck on Sylus' face, he whispered. “One of us is bound to die as the prophecy wrote it. I chose the path, I chose myself.” Lyra, still distraught on what she had witnessed. Her palms pressed on the sides on the dagger’s blade, a desperate attempt to save Sylus.

“No. No. No. Please.” She pleaded. Sylus raised his bloodied hand to her face. “You were the only mortal who saw beyond the scales, the only one who offered a heart where I thought none could bloom. For such a fragile flower, I would gladly succumb to my own fire on any who dared to threaten it.” He whispered with his last breath.

Lyra felt his hand get heavier and heavier. She was lost for words as tears were only one speaking as of the moment. Sylus' hand fell and so did Lyra’s heart. She let out a scream that citizens eons away could hear. A surge of red force exploded along her scream sending a gush of fire which was then caught by their surroundings. The humans and hunters shivered in fear.

Lyra’s eyes shifted from grief to something dark. Her eyes grew all black as she held Sylus' lifeless body. The premises shook in an otherworldly force.

"Depart from these grounds." One hunter yelled out, sending humans and other hunters running towards the door. Lyra’s eyes followed their movements and with a small tilt of her head, the doors shut. “It won’t yield! You foul witch! Release us!” He commanded.

In a voice darkened by fury, her grip on Sylus tightened. Her words dripped with venom, each syllable a knife. "What makes you think I would grant you mercy?" Her eyes gleamed with malice, her breath steady despite the storm raging within. "You took everything from me."

A cruel smile curled on her lips as she whispered, "The prophecy decreed that only one shall perish this night. Sylus chose his fate." She pulled him closer, his body limp in her embrace, her fingers trembling with rage and sorrow alike. Her power crackled in the air, bending the very fabric of reality to her will. "With power like mine," she murmured, her voice a chilling promise, "I do not plead. I do not falter. I choose bloodshed."

"By the ancient blood that binds us, I forge a chain of lifetimes," she intoned, her voice reverberating through the chamber like a solemn decree. Power surged through her veins, thick as the magic-laden air. "Your soul, Sylus, shall be forever tethered to mine, a shadow clinging to light, a curse that echoes through lifetimes. Only my hand can extinguish the flame of your existence. Only I can grant you a true death."

As the final words left her lips, the chamber trembled, the walls groaning under the weight of her will. The torches flickered wildly, shadows stretching like grasping hands. The gathered onlookers—those who dared bear witness to this night—felt it too. The pull of something inevitable.

"And as for those who stand in this chamber tonight," her gaze swept over them, unyielding, merciless, "your fates are sealed. The blood spilled here shall not be ours alone. Tonight, the world shall remember the price of this curse and rampage." The air grew thick with an invisible force, a suffocating pressure that clawed at their throats. The doors slammed shut even tighter with an eerie finality, sealing their doom.

Lyra didn’t move an inch as she held onto Sylus' body with eyes filled with fury towards the people who did this. “I will remind them how it feels to hold you like this. I will make them suffer until their very souls beg for mercy that will never come.” Lyra vowed as the fire engulfed both of their bodies along with assailants before the stones of the ruins crumbled around them.

----------------

He told her of the past, of Lyra’s desperate attempt to bind him to her, to save him from a fate he chose. But in her desperation, she had created a collapse in the prophecy. Luna was lost for words. She was responsible for the curse when desperation called.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice trembling with anger. “Why did you let me live in ignorance?”

“I wanted to protect you,” he replied, his voice soft, his gaze pleading. “I wanted to give you a chance to live a normal life, to escape the darkness that surrounds us.”

“But you didn’t,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “You brought me here, into the heart of it all.”

“I had no choice,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “Elias… he found you. He would have used you, manipulated you to use your ability to end me, to end us.”

A heavy silence settled over them, the weight of their shared history pressing down on them. Luna’s mind reeled, trying to process the enormity of what she had just learned. Suddenly, a cold, mocking voice echoed through the penthouse. “Such a touching reunion.”

Elias stepped out of the shadows, his augmented form a grotesque distortion of draconic power. His eyes gleamed with triumph, his lips curled into a cruel smile.

“Elias,” Sylus growled, his voice laced with venom, immediately pulling Luna behind him.

“There is a way, Luna,” Elias said, his voice smooth and persuasive, ignoring Sylus' anger. “A way to break the bond and end this madness to live in normalcy.”

Luna looked from Sylus to Elias, her mind reeling. “Don’t listen to him, Luna,” Sylus growled, his voice low and dangerous. “He wants to take you from me.”

His hold got tighter, his eyes burning with a possessive fire. “He will lie, manipulate, or do anything to break our bond. He wants to see me destroyed.”

“I want to see you freed, Luna,” Elias countered, his voice laced with sincerity. “Freed from his control, from the curse that binds you to him.”

He held out his hand, his eyes pleading. “Come with me, Luna. I will show you the truth. I will give you a choice.”

Luna’s gaze shifted between the two men, her mind a battleground of conflicting emotions. She saw the possessive fire in Sylus' eyes, the desperate plea in Elias’s. She felt the pull of their intertwined destinies, the weight of the curse that bound them together.

“No.” Luna affirmed with a tone very firm, no one can defy its meaning. “You defiler. I will never cross your path.”

Elias’s eyes turn from soft to angered ones. He began to see red. “You will regret this, Luna. He,” his finger towards Sylus “will be your demise.”

He turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Luna alone with Sylus, the silence in the penthouse heavy with unspoken words.

Sylus reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw. “I understand your confusion, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “But please, trust me. I will not let him harm you.”

Luna nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to trust him, to believe in him. But the fear, the doubt, the whispers of the past, they were all too real.

“I’m scared, Sylus,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I know,” he said, pulling her close, his arms wrapped around her, his presence a comforting shield against the darkness. “But you don’t have to be. I will protect you. Always.”

They stood there, embraced, the silence in the penthouse broken only by the soft sound of Luna’s tears. The city lights twinkled outside the windows, a silent witness to their intertwined destinies, their cursed love. The night was long, and the choices ahead were fraught with danger, but they would face them together, bound by a love that defied fate, a curse that threatened to consume them both.

The city lights twinkled outside the penthouse windows, a stark contrast to the storm raging within Luna. The silence between her and Sylus was thick, heavy with the weight of his revelations. The curse, a consuming fire, a bond that threatened to obliterate them both, echoed in her mind.

She pulled back slightly, her gaze searching his. She whispered, her voice trembling. "How do we stop him?"

Sylus' expression was grave, his crimson eyes filled with a dark intensity. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice low and laced with a hint of desperation. "I don't know yet. But I will find a way. I promise you that."

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. "We are bound, Luna, not helpless. We will face this together, and we will find a way."

He leaned down, his lips grazing against hers, a tender, almost desperate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of love and fear, of longing and a desperate hope against impossible odds.

"Trust me," he whispered against her lips. "Trust me, and we will overcome this."

Luna nodded and closed her eyes, trying to find solace in his embrace, but the fear was a cold knot in her stomach. She trusted him, loved him, but the curse, the whispers of Elias, they were a constant, gnawing presence.

She pulled back, her gaze troubled. "Elias... he said there was a way to break the bond," she said, her voice hesitant. "He said I could be free."

Sylus' expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "He is lying. He is trying to manipulate you, to turn you against me. He wants to see me destroyed, and he will use you to achieve it."

"But what if he's not?" Luna countered, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "What if there is a way? What if we could have a life? A real life?"

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken desires and fears. Sylus' eyes burned with a possessive fire, a flicker of something darker that made Luna's breath catch in her throat.

"There is no 'real life' for us, Luna." he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We are bound, eternally. Our destinies are intertwined. You are mine."

His grip on her arms tightened, his eyes burning with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Luna felt a surge of fear, a chilling question forming in her mind: was this love, or possession?

She pulled away, her heart pounding. She said, her voice trembling. "I need to think. I need to understand."

Sylus' expression softened, the possessive fire replaced by a look of concern. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "I’ll help you understand every bit in an effort to make you remember. But please, don't trust Elias. He will lead you down a path of darkness."

He stepped back, giving her space, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and fear. "I will be here." he said, his voice soft.

Luna nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She was trapped, caught between her love for Sylus and the suffocating weight of the curse, between the promise of freedom and the fear of threats. The choices ahead were a labyrinth of shadows, and she had no idea which path to take.

She turned away, walking towards the panoramic windows, her gaze lost in the glittering expanse of the city. The lights blurred through her tears, each one a tiny point of light in the vast darkness, much like her own uncertain future.

A soft sound behind her made her turn. Sylus stood near the grand piano, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on her. The silence stretched, heavy and charged, until he finally spoke.

"I know this is difficult, my love," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "But you must understand... Elias is not offering you freedom. He is offering you a different kind of cage."

He walked towards her, his movements slow and deliberate. "He wants to control you, to use you against me. He will offer you illusions, lies disguised as truths. But in the end, he will only bring you pain."

He stopped in front of her, his gaze searching hers. "I understand your fear, Lyra. I understand your desire for a life free from this curse. But please, don't make a choice you will regret." He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her cheek. “I will find a way for us to be together, truly together, without the shadows of the past hanging over us."

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