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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

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Hello can i ask a part 3 of crazy for you where you know about his dark tendencies but you can't and he won't let you leave him because your already pregnant (i know it takes time to figure out if your pregnant but let's just say Lando has a great sperm 🤭 and it's many weeks later) thanks 🫶

Crazy For The Three Of Us || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four (final)

It took Lando another couple of weeks to finally get you to move in with him, not that you spent much time apart. You practically lived together but shared the time between your apartments next door. His argument made sense in the end, there really was no need to be paying rent when you could move in with him. So, you handed in your notice and moved your belongings into his place.

“Did this really need to be boxed up to move ten metres down the hall?” Lando teased as he opened the last box and tipped it out.

“Probably not,” you giggled as you helped fold the clothes and put them away. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Fridge is a bit empty, want takeaway or to go shopping?” You would always choose a home cooked meal and he knew it as he grabbed a hoodie and his keys. “Come on then, love.”

Determined to make the grocery run go faster, you sent Lando off to the chilled foods with his list and you made your way down the dried goods aisles. A familiar face stood in front of the sauces and you skipped up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey Luke, how have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Hey,” he said weakly. He seemed wary as he took a step back, his eyes finding Lando as he walked down the aisle with a shopping trolley. “That’s probably for the best. I should get going.”

You frowned at his quickly retreating figure and wondered what you had done to offend him. It wasn’t like you had seen him anytime recently. Everytime plans were tried to line up, there was something already organised with Lando. Turning your back on him you saw Lando’s jaw clench as he stared at Luke’s back too.

“What’s that?” you asked as you nodded to his hands, his eyes softening as he broke away from his intense stare.

“I picked you up a test, love.” Lando held the little blue box up and shook it. “You’re a few days late.”

“How would you even know that?” You laughed as you took the box and started to place it on a random shelf you passed. “You wear condoms anyway, so stop being stupid.”

“Yeah, except when you practically raped me on the couch,” he snorted. “Please, Lando, just fuck me. You didn’t even give me a chance to get one.”

You stumbled and if you didn’t have a hand on the trolley you probably would have face planted on the vinyl floor. “No, tell me you’re joking, right?”

“Why would I joke about that?” He grabbed the test back and dropped it into the trolley as he continued on his way.

You rushed to catch up with him and grabbed his forearm. “Why are you not freaking out?”

“Why would I?” he asked calmly, his head tilting to the side as he saw the fear in your eyes. “I love you, we live together. Is it not the next step?”

“No, it’s not,” you corrected. “There’s a million steps between those things. There’s enjoying life, getting to know each other, getting married. I don’t even know if I want kids!”

He smiled and grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a crushing kiss. “You said kids, plural.”

“Lando, I’m trying to be calm right now. Please don’t make this worse.” You turned and stormed your way to the checkouts, tapping your foot impatiently as each item was scanned but it was the little blue box you kept your eyes fixed on. “It’s probably nothing anyway,” you muttered under your breath as you tried not to freak out. “It was one time.”

You couldn’t breathe as you stared at the little window that very clearly stated PREGNANT. It even had the audacity to tell you that you were 3-4 weeks along.

“It’s wrong, buy another one,” you said to Lando as you tossed the test in the trash.

He grabbed it out and stared at it, a little perplexed that it didn’t just have two little lines. “What do you mean?”

“Unless you can time travel, the test is wrong,” you growled as you ripped it from his hands and threw it back in the bin. “We had sex on your couch when I called in sick two weeks ago, so how can I be that far along? It’s faulty, go and buy another one.”

You gave him a push to the door before sinking onto the couch and dropping your head in your hands. You bolted back upright and narrowed your eyes at the seat, giving it a kick before heading to the kitchen instead. “Stupid fucking couch.”

By the time Lando returned, his hoodie pocket filled with half a dozen other brands of tests, you had cooked dinner and dessert and started baking some bread rolls for lunches as well. You kept your hands busy so you could distract yourself and it had worked until he dropped the boxes on the bench.

“There weren’t any more of those fancy ones but I got these,” he explained as he opened the boxes and pulled the tests out. “Have you drunk any water?”

You waved your empty bottle as you swiped them up and stalked back off to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Baby, open up,” Lando said with a knock. “Let me in.”

“Just…give me a few minutes,” you begged as you sat on the toilet. “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

You heard his footsteps retreat and sighed as you closed your eyes to pray to anyone that would listen. “Please, please, please…”

Your prayers weren’t answered as every single test highlighted the reality of the situation. You were pregnant. You were pregnant. “Fuck.”

The alarm on your new phone blared that the baking was done and it spurred you to wash your hands and leave the room. You walked into the kitchen, feeling Lando’s eyes in you as you opened the oven and pulled out the tray from the oven. You didn’t feel the heat of the tray but Lando’s shout cut through the noise in your head before the pain flared on your palm. The tray clattered to the floor and you froze amongst the mess.

“Baby,” Lando whined as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the sink. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I-I-I’m pregnant,” you whispered, still in a state of confusion as you stared at the ruined bread rolls. “I have a fucking bun in the oven.”

You were still in denial even as you watched the pulsing blob on the screen in front of you. Lando knew plenty of people around the city with his high profile and he had been able to get you a fast tracked appointment with an Obstetrician. You almost wished he would slow down but going fast was all he knew.

“Woah,” he breathed as the doctor pointed to the dot.

“That’s it’s heartbeat, fast and strong. I would say from the measurements we are looking at just over 5 weeks gestation.”

“Five! No, that can’t be right.”

“The measurements don’t lie,” he shrugged as he waved the wand to another angle to take a few more still shots. “But we go by your last known period, not the actual conception date if that helps.”

It didn’t. The dates still didn’t add up in your mind and you numbly accepted the print outs of the photos as you sat up.

“We will have another scan at 12 weeks-”

You zoned out as you stared at the blob, no, not a blob - a baby, your baby. Your thumb stroked over the image and you tried to imagine how in less than eight months it would be a human being that you would be responsible for. A wet splotch landed on the paper and you gasped as you rushed to brush the teardrop away. “Shit,” you sniffled as you accepted the tissue Lando grabbed for you.

“You’re going to be a great mother,” he said softly, taking the pictures away before you could ruin them further. “I can’t wait to tell our parents.”

You had barely been able to think about how you were reacting to the news but now you had to think about your parents as well. You had only ever briefly spoken to his parents and that was when they video called him on Christmas Day. The thought of telling them and your parents was almost enough to make you sick, and not the queasy kind you had felt waking each morning recently.

“Don’t you think we should wait?” you whispered as you sat in the passenger seat on the drive back to the apartment. “Most people wait until 12 weeks in case something happens.”

“You’re going to have the best care money can buy, baby, nothing’s going to happen.”

‘I thought we raised you better than that,’ your mother had sighed. ‘Unprotected sex is not an accident.’

‘What your mother means to say is, if you two are happy then we are happy for you,’ your father said as he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘You are happy, right?’

Lando’s hand had warmed your leg as he ran his palm over your jeans, giving it a soft squeeze when you didn’t answer. “Uh, yeah, dad, I’m happy. It was just a shock is all. I think my brain is still trying to catch up with everything.”

You could hear the disappointment in your parent’s lacklustre congratulations before they bid you a goodnight. It weighed heavily on you as the video call ended and Lando slammed the lid of his laptop shut. His parents had been far more accepting of the information, but it wasn’t their first time being grandparents so it wasn’t such a change.

Lando went to the kitchen and boiled the kettle for your evening tea and you screwed up your face as he opened the new jar. “Can’t I have the chamomile? That one tastes better.”

As soon as the pregnancy test had come back positive he had thrown the sleep tea out, claiming it said it wasn’t suitable for pregnancy. It seemed absurd, but Lando wasn’t taking his chances and you were kind of endeared by how seriously he was taking his role as father-to-be.

“Come to bed with me,” you said as you slipped your arms around his waist while the tea steeped. His cologne made your mouth water and you buried your face in the back of this hoodie as you hugged him tighter. “These hormones are driving me crazy.”

The tea was forgotten as he turned and caught your chin in his warm hands, tipping your face back so he could claim your lips. “Crazy, huh?” he teased, taking a step and forcing you back until you were walking blindly to the bedroom. “I like it when you get a little crazy.”

Your knees hit the bed and you fell back amongst the blankets as he eyed you up hungrily. Need simmered in your core as he popped the button on your jeans and dragged them down your legs. Crawling up the bed, he groaned at the sight of your ass in the air and chuckled when you opened the bedside drawer.

“Where’s the- oh- I guess we don’t need them now,” you chuckled as you found the condom box missing. “Guess there is one perk to this accident.”

Lando flipped you onto his back and you found he had already thrown his clothes off in eagerness. “There are no accidents, love, just miracles.”

Click here for the final part.

#dark!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine

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userlando · 11 months

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Okay but imagine, Lando coming home after a triple header expecting you to be at your own home. He's tired and honestly wants to cry a little because you're not there. So, when he walks into his room to see you in his bed, deep asleep, wearing only his shirt and nothing else, he can't help but curl up close to you and hold you

oh I was saving this in my ask box to write on a day when I felt a little gloomy, just a little something for you as a thanks for dropping this fluffy thing in my lap 🤍

homecoming (748 words) lando norris/fem!reader fluff

The house is dark when Lando steps over the threshold, his chest feels a little heavy and his throat tight like he’s two seconds away from crying and he doesn’t really know why.

He assumes it’s an array of different things. He’s been away for three weeks, performance average as he fights to keep his composure on the race tracks and he knows it’s finally time for a break when he drops to P10 on Sunday. Usually, he’d sleep it off at the hotel and then catch a flight to his next destination, but he finds himself too antsy and anxious to spend another second away from home, so he books a flight the same evening and gets his ass home.

His shoulders are drawn tight in tension, fingers itching to grab his keys to his McLaren and drive straight to your place but he holds himself back. He knows you’ve had it equally as rough as him, struggling with your work and his absence only adds onto the stress you’re carrying on your shoulders.

Lando feels like shit, mood dropping even lower when he thinks of you. He kicks his shoes off to the side, knowing that Max would yell at him in the morning for not storing them away like a normal person but he can’t bring himself to care. His body yearns for his bed, with freshly washed sheets because you always do that. Tidy up his room and wash his shit, knowing that he likes the scent of freshly washed cotton to come home to.

He smiles fondly, chest tight when he spots the empty grocery bags in the kitchen; recalling Max’s text earlier in the day where he’d reassured Lando that you were okay, telling him that he was out shopping for groceries with you because you’d insisted on Lando coming home to a stocked fridge.

The Brit feels his eyes well up, walking quietly across the hallway and pushing his door open. The bedside lamp is on, and it gives Lando pause as his eyes adjusts to the dim lights in the room. His eyes sweep across the unusually clean space, frown deepening on his face until he spots the lump under his covers, on his bed.

At first, he thinks it’s Max playing a prank on him and he almost walks over to punch a fist into whoever is laying there just for the sake of it. But then he spots the back of your head, sleeping face coming into view, the closer he walks.

Your soft breaths makes his throat close up, and he sniffles quietly because the rush of relief coursing through him is so overpowering that he cups his lower face with his shaking hand; taking a deep breath to steady himself.

He quickly sheds his clothes, abandoning his plans to shower in favour of crawling into bed. You don’t even twitch, even as he inches closer and lays on his side, face to face with you. You’re warm, clad in nothing but one of his Quadrant shirts and his heart wells over with love at the sight.

Your eyebrow moves, and Lando sucks his lower lip into his mouth because it’s starting to wobble in the massive rush of affection he feels for you. He doesn’t even care that he might potentially wake you up, scooting closer until he can wrap his arms and legs around you, pushing his face into the warm space of your throat where it’s connected to the shoulder and notching his head under your chin.

Lando can feel when you stir in your interrupted sleep, making a sleepy sound and exhaling through your nose that ruffles his hair but you don’t say anything as you wrap yourself around him in a similar fashion almost immediately. He’s thankful that you don’t even question his sudden need to be held, nor do you say anything when he sniffles quietly, only offering your comfort by bringing your hands up to play with his hair.

“Missed you.” You said quietly, voice a little thick with sleep and Lando wants to wrap the sound of it around him like a blanket.

He scoots closer, like if he tries enough, he can crawl into your skin and it makes you hide a smile in his curls.

“I missed you too.” He mumbles, words muffled in your neck and it tickles a little bit. “Never leaving you again.”

You both know it’s not possible, but you nod gently.

“Never.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

whew, I need a touch depraved lando asap 🥺 I hope you liked this lil thing 🤍 lmk what you thought!!

#zee’s asks 💌#lando brainrot #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris x female reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

All the little voices : J.T x reader

Request: A Jason fic where the reader is insecure.

A/N: the parts in italics are retrospective.

***

It was one of those days.

Those days when she felt inadequate, insufficient, judged and dished. The mere thought of going out of the house was like a slap on the cheek.

She just wanted to rest, to not see people, not compare herself to all the other woman and girls on the streets and at work, ending up feeling like a walking disaster. Not getting lost in her own thoughts, her own head.

But a girl gotta work. And besides, she had that little critic inside her always saying mean stuff, making her feel guilty for not wanting to go out. And she listened, forcing herself to do things that left her even more broken than at the beginning.

Y/N really did like her job, found a way to express herself through it. Mostly, she was energetic, helpful, concerned, smiling and beaming while performing her duties. But after a while, her self-consciousness always started creeping in.

Always.

And it was like a step back from all she achieved.

Those were the days when she would rather fit into the wall, acting like a freaking chameleon than talk to people. Her duties were taking twice as much time, because she got scared of making phone calls and would rather search for the information by herself. Instead of talking to the coworkers in the other department she preferred sending e-mails just to avoid face to face confrontation. And an hour before the end of the shift she realized she was just staring at the clock praying that no one would drop by to have a little chat with her.

Surviving the work, however, was one thing.

The other, possibly harder, was getting back home.

Putting her earphones on and trying to separate herself from reality, Y/N got lost into her Spotify shuffle playlist, sounds of music bringing even more thoughts, plans, scenarios, making her even more insecure than before. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of the oldness of the T-shirt she was wearing, her worn-out shoes, bitten nails and that stupid zit on the chin that she couldn’t for the love of god conceal in the morning. Songs sparked some memories of the words her boss addressed her, about how she could be so much better and how she should step up in work and in life. And that lead her straight into thinking about Jay.

“I’m not worth any of this.” she thought “what does he see in me? Definitely something that is not there. I am not who he thinks I am. Honestly, I don’t know who I am at all. And what if I’m crazy? What if I’m gonna end up as someone I don’t even recognize? I don’t want that. I just want to get home and hide from the people. But I can’t do that” she felt like crying “there’s so much work to do, so man e-mails and tasks to deal with. And what if I can’t deal with them? What if I’m both ugly and stupid? What if I fail? What if I’m a failure?!” she didn’t even realize that, but her eyes turned sad, showing that vulnerable side of the girl, who truly was at the verge of tears. Her whole posture was just screaming “please don’t hurt me”.

She didn’t want people to look at her, to see her, and yet, somewhere in her crazy, spinning mind she felt like all eyes were on her, judging, commenting, laughing at her internally. She just wanted to disappear, ditch the grocery shopping, but it was either that or starving since her fridge was absolutely empty. Thank god for the self-service checkouts!

That spinning and turning and worrying made her get back home in a very strange mood with a mix of feelings, she couldn’t possibly contain. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream and walk around and lay down all at the same time.

Slowly the panic started creeping in and it was harder and harder to breathe.

She practically did nothing for the whole day, so why was she so tired. Why was she already fearing the upcoming day, despite the fact that it was barely 5 p.m. and she still had a whole evening to relax?

“Come on, just breathe Y/N. It’s gonna be fine, you are gonna be fine.” she whispered, hugging herself tightly.

A mistake.

Feeling her own body and those little rolls of fat made her cry out loud. She never had a good relationship with her own body. How could she possibly love or accept something so broken, marked with stretched, imperfections, discolorations? How? Damn, she just wanted to be pretty and skinny and perfect. For so many times she wished she was mentally capable of wearing a dress or shorts or something more …. revealing. Last week when Jason and she were shopping at the mall, she stopped in front of the lingerie shop, admiring all those fancy panties and lacy bras.

“You like that princess?” Jason smirked coming from behind her back, wrapping arms around her waist and hugging her tightly to his chest, scaring her to death in the process. “I would love to see you in that, one day.”

“ I…..I …..” she stuttered

“why don’t we go inside so you can try it on?” Jason smirked “I’m most definitely ready to buy the whole shop for you.”

“Why don’t we just go home and stop goofing around?” she wriggled herself free leaving him a bit dumbfounded

“It’s all right, baby. You’re still hot and sexy for me, even without….”

“Mhm, sure….” She mumbled, her eyes wondering all over, hands shaking and she just clenched her fingers to cover up for that. Hot and sexy, sure…. “You know what I just ….. I just remembered something I have forgotten. I…. I need to go to the mall bathroom real quick, all right? You …. Take that and I’ll meet you here in a moment, all right? Great….” She did not even let him finish, taking off and heading straight to the one place when she could possibly get some peace and quiet.

She never told him she cried her heart out in that tiny lavatory. Quick make up was enough to hide the stains and reddened eyes.

Why was it all coming back to her now?

Just one trigger was enough to get her completely spinning.

“Y/N!”

“Yes, Jane?” she smiled at her coworker, waiting for the words coming

“I’m gonna need you to take some of my work and deal with it”

“I’m sorry, what? Why would I do your work when I got so much of mine?”

“Cause I’m leaving with the boss. He might promote me into his assistant, you know! Which means I am practically your immediate supervisor, and you shall do as I say.

Jane was not the sharpest tool in the shed and definitely not the most hardworking and she was getting promoted. Maybe Y/N truly was stupid for giving so much of herself to work. Maybe she was just not good enough and too quiet to ever be noticed.

Why the hell was all of that coming back now!?

She wanted to try something new and that’s why the girl found herself at the workout class at the gym. Not entirely sure how to use any of that special equipment, just standing like a statue and observing all those fit girls with their perfect figures.

If that was what Jason was watching every time he hit the gym ……

“Hey, are you new here?” a female trainer with the widest smile approached Y/N. “How about I show you around?” Y/N could tell the other girl was being sincere, but she already had enough. She did not fit in here. Not with her T-shirt and leggings serving as a workout suit and covering all those parts of her body that she was ashamed of.

“Um… I… thanks, but I think I actually feel sick…..” she mumbled, spun on her feet and never came back.

Y/N was extremely insecure at this point. She needed a hug. She needed someone to whisper sweet nothings and comforting words into her ear. She needed Jason, but at the same time never wanted to be a burden to him. To put the weight of her problems onto him. But maybe she could just casually call him up?”

“Jason?” she dialed the number and he picked up at the first signal.

“Hi, princess. What’s up there?”

“not… not much…” she swallowed harshly “I just needed to hear your voice….”

“What happened?” oh, he caught up on that little trembling in her voice and became concerned in an instant.

“Why would something happen?” she tried to scoff him playfully, but it did not work at all.

“don’t play with me babe”

“I need you, Jace” she cried into the phone “I’m sorry, please, can you come?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t hung up.”

“It’s not like I’m in any danger……”

“I don’t care. You are shaken so clearly someone upset you. You keep talking to me. I’m mounting the bike and will be there in like ten minutes. You do not hang up on me.”

She did not . At least not until she heard knocking on the door and very disturbed Jason with disheveled hear, in his leather jacket busted through them, immediately wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

“Jason….” she wriggled a bit

“Hush. Let me hold you for now and then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“What do you want?”

“A way out of my head.”

“Cuddles?” he asked

“please……” she whimpered and he didn’t even hesitate picking her up and carrying her toward the couch.

“I can…..” she protested but he cut her off.

“Yes, I know you can walk, but something tells me your legs are going to give up on you soon, so don’t fight against me.”

He laid her down gently, climbing up next to her and sneaking arms around her.

“ Thank you for coming….” She muttered hiding face in his jacket

“You really left me no choice, baby. That phone call was rather disturbing. “

“I;m sorry” she winced ashamed of taking his time and attention.

“Stop saying you’re sorry! Why would you be sorry? Y/N, baby, look at me” his right hand ended up on her cheek caressing it gently “what…..? Ohmygod…..”

“What?” she trembled. Was he going to leave because she was so needy and whiny and shaken? Was he done with her, like all the other boys in her life before? Not that there were many but still enough to leave a scar.

“You feel like you’re not enough.” He stated simply. “you think you are a burden.”

“What? No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine!”

“You’re not. “ Jason shook his head “I know that look. First handed. I used to do that too. Constantly wondering if I was too much to handle for you. If I was only bringing you down.

“You did?” her eyes grew wide. “I never knew…. Why didn’t you tell me?” she lifted herself up, hand lying on his chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart.

“Possibly for the same reason you did not tell me.” He smiled lightly, but his eyes were sad beyond recognition. “Because I love you. And I never wanted to worry you.”

“Jason….” tears started falling down her cheeks “Baby, you have to tell me such things. I love you too, I don’t want to see you hurt or feeling insecure. Ever. I’m here for you, you know there’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do to make you feel better and …. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so sweet, baby. But now, I need you to think about what you just said and turn those words around.”

“What? How….?” She looked at him, a bit confused but only for a second “oh, you little rascal!” Y/N hit his chest a couple times, before he grabbed her wrist and kissed it gently, lovingly “you played me!”

“Yeah, I did. Like a pro, didn’t I?” he smirked, clearly proud of himself

“You made me cry!”

“And I hate myself for that. But it was needed so you would understand exactly how I feel when I see you like that. I’m not good with words, Y/N, I know I’m not, but the feelings I have for you are right here.” Jason closed his eyes and put her hand back on his rapidly beating heart “ there are no words in any language to describe them.”

“I think I might cry again….”she warned, her face twisting

“Go ahead. Here’s the shoulder, dedicated especially to that.” He pointed towards his limb and smiled widely “Y/N….”

“Yes?”

“I bought that thing you were watching at the last shopping spree…..”

“YOU WHAT?! I’M NOT…..”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there baby. I’ll be proving to you how wonderful you are, using every method possible. I’ll make all those little voices of yours shut up. And If that may require taking some things off your ….” His eyes travelled over her body with lust, making her tremble “…. Shoulders” he finished smirking “than I’m game.”

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forever-rogue · 1 year

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Javi and Dulzura taking the kids grocery shopping and Dulzura leaves Javi with the kids(maybe she takes the youngest with her in like a baby carrier cause that’s just cute) because she forgot something a couple isles over and someone tried flirting with Javi cause they’re thinking “oh hot single dad” but Dulzura shows up just in time and is like nope.

AN | Oh yeah, but no. No one messes with Javi when Dulzura is around! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javier!” you sighed as you looked through the fridge for a third time before turning back to the pantry and finding that it was just as empty as the fridge. This was definitely not good.

“What’s wrong, Dulzura?” he made his way into the kitchen, a smile on his face as he found you standing there with your hands on your hips, “I didn’t do it.”

“Oh? You don’t eat in this house anymore?” you snorted in amusement as you motioned for him to come closer. He raised an eyebrow as he came over and gave you a kiss, “we’re running dangerously low on groceries.”

“Uh oh,” he took a quick look through everything before groaning slightly, “we’re going to have to go to the store.”

“We have to go to the store,” you confirmed as a few shrieks of joy reached you from the living room, “and I think we’re going to have to take the gaggle with us.”

“The gaggle?” he couldn’t help but laugh as you nodded seriously.

“They’re like baby geese honking and running all over the place,” despite your best efforts you weren’t able to keep the smile off your face, “therefore they are our little gaggle of geese. And you’re Father Goose.”

“Does that make you Mother Goose?” he put a hand on your waist and pulled closer to his body, before wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“Nope,” you could feel him smiling against your lips, “I’m Queen Goose, and you’re all my loyal subjects.”

“And I would never dare to cross you,” he promised, taking a moment to kiss you properly, “do you think we’ll survive?”

“I can put Bella in her carrier and the others will be okay,” the two of you grimaced for a moment. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your children - you absolutely did, more than anything - but they were a lot. A whole lot, “they’re good kids. They’ll listen…they’ve been good before.”

“And we can incentivize with ice cream,” he suggested as you nodded.

“Like that was a question,” you grinned, “whatever it takes.”

“When should we go?”

“We’re going to have to feed them soon,” you playfully sighed, “unless you’ve got something else that you need to do first?”

“Never,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and that made you smile softly. He was always so tender and gentle with you, even after all these years, “you and the gaggle are always my number one priority.”

“Oh cielito,” you beamed at him, making his knees weak, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he promised, “now, let’s get everyone rounded up and get going. I have a feeling this is going to be quite an adventure.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” you and Javier jumped out of the car to quickly go over the game plan for grocery shopping. When you had a family of seven, planning was a must. It gave you some pause for a moment as you took in the scene in front of you. A large SUV filled with children and a hot husband that were all yours. You’d never imagined that this would be your life, even when you’d first started your relationship with Javier this was never anything you’d imagined. But you wouldn’t change a thing either.

“You have your list?” you asked as he pulled the paper with the groceries he was going to procure out of his pocket. You mirrored him and held up your list, “okay, I’ll start with the kids, and then we’ll meet in the middle and swap.”

“And you’re okay with taking Bella?”

“Yup - she’ll be strapped to my chest so she’s not going anymore,” you were very proud of your little plan, “but she’s also eight months old so she's not really going anywhere either way. You can get her next time.”

“Sounds like a deal, Dulzura,” he put his hand on your face and brushed his thumb over cheek, “you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you could hear the small giggles from inside the car. That alone made your heart soft, “let’s get this done so we can all get some ice cream.”

“Now that sounds perfect,” he opened the back door so the two of you could start getting the kids out. Lucia hopped out, along with Diego who was much more tactful than his older sister. They clambered over to Javi as you took Bella out of her car seat and into the carrier you had on your chest. She cooed happily as you got her settled before you each grabbed out one of the twins.

“Oh my little loves,” you grinned at them, trying to hold back your internal squeals. As they stood by Javi, you could see just how much they all seemed to take after him with their dark hair and soft eyes and bright smiles. You liked to joke that you did all the hard work with carrying them and birthing them and they betrayed you by taking after their father. Except for Bella who definitely took more after you. But you loved them all beyond words, “we are going to go grocery shopping so we can have food at home - and if you’re all good, we can go get ice cream afterwards and go to the park. What do you guys think?”

You were met with little cheers and bright smiles; alright - you had them reeled in.

“You’re going to go with your mamá,” Javier affectionately ruffled Lucia’s curls and then later on you’ll come with me. Si?”

“Si papá,” Lucia and Diego chirped happily as the twins nodded.

“Inside voices please and stay close, okay? And remember your manners,” you gave Javi a look and he silently responded. The two of you didn’t even have to verbalize conversations anymore, you were so in sync, “okay, let’s go then kiddos! And no running either, por favor!”

“Good luck, Dulzura,” Javi punctuated his statement with a kiss as you both grabbed shopping carts, “if you want to trade off early, just say the word.”

“You’re a good man, amor,” you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” and he gave your bum a small pinch which made your eyes widen as you tried to quiet your giggles, “and that never gets old.”

“Javier.”

“See you soon,” with that, he took off towards the other end of the store to start on his list.

You shook your head with a fond smile as Bella babbled away, “your father is impossible, I swear. But luckily for all of you, you’re all so cute!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your children were definitely small agents of chaos, but you had to admit that they definitely listened and listened well when asked to. One would think that Javier, former DEA agent Javier, would have been the more strict parent, but if anything, it was definitely you. Luckily, there weren’t many times you had to pull out the strict mom card too often.

"Mamá?" Diego was at your side as his sisters and brother were up ahead, excitedly looking at all the bright packaging on the shelves.

"Yes, my love?" You reached down and touched his little cheek, "everything alright?"

"Mhmm," he grabbed your hand with his much smaller one, "can we get cookies?"

"Cookies?" You playfully scoffed at him as he grinned at you shyly, "you want cookies?"

"Yes please," there came your favorite little gap toothed grin, "I like the oreos! Abuelo likes them too."

"Well I can't say no to you and abuelo," you put a hand on your heart, "we can get some cookies, but you have to share with everyone."

"Even with Bella?"

"Maybe not Bella," the baby in question was already asleep again, "but your other sisters and brother and papá."

"Okay," he nodded eagerly as he padded up ahead to where he could see the telltale blue packaging.

At the end of the aisle you saw Javier pop up and you felt yourself relaxing. He leaned against the cart and offered you a cheeky little wink accompanied by a wave. You stuck your tongue out in response as he shook his head fondly.

"Doing alright?" He asked when you made your way down the aisle.

"Not a single hair on their heads harmed, no missing kids, and no meltdowns," you grinned as the kids all studied the different types of oreos that were available, "I promised your son some oreos. Made a sucker right out of me."

"My son?"

"Yes," you confirmed fervently, "when he makes a sucker out of me, he's your son. Other times I will take half credit for him."

"What about the others?"

"They can be ours. But they're on thin ice!"

"You, Dulzura, are something else," he whispered before stealing a kiss. Lucia had gotten to the age where she called you both out for any sort of PDA. Diego was out at any age where he naturally agreed with his older sister. The twins were still young enough to be unbothered, "my turn?"

"Yes Daddy," you teased as his eyebrows shot up in amusement. It was your turn to wink at him as you herded the kids over to him, "all yours!"

"Two can play that game baby," you shrugged innocently, "I'll see you at the registers."

"See you soon!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were walking the rest of your half of the grocery store in peace, enjoying a few quiet moments to yourself. They were far and few in between - no complaints on your part - but nice when you got them. Bella remained sleepy, drifting in and out of a little nap, but that didn't stop you from speaking quietly to her. She was such a happy baby and so calm and sweet; she was more like Diego than her sisters and other brother. They were all unique in their own special ways.

"Alright mija," you grabbed the last of your fresh produce and set it in the cart, crossing the items off your list. You were finished now and even earlier than anticipated, "let's go see if papá needs help."

You made your way to the other end of the store, grabbing a few things that looked good on the way - going shopping when hungry was never a good idea.

You spotted Thea from around the corner and attempted to follow her to Javier when you heard him speaking to someone. It definitely wasn't one of the kids, so you wondered if it was someone you knew.

"Look at those curls," the voice was high pitched and screeching, causing you to cringe. This was definitely not someone you knew, "what beautiful children!"

"Thanks, I-"

"They're all so precious," well then, this was interesting if nothing else. You could just imagine Javier's face, "they look like you. What are their names?"

"I, ugh, ma'am-"

"I'm Lucia," you were giggling now, listening to your daughter speak up, "that's my sister Thea, that's Diego, and that's Santiago but we all call him Santi. We have a baby sister too, her name's Bella."

"You are just sweet as pie," you edged towards the end of the aisle to peek around, "and your daddy is just as sweet…and handsome!"

"Umm…"

"And to think, you're raising them on your own!" okay, now you were getting annoyed. She looked exactly like you imagined, box blonde with over the top makeup, too much plastic surgery and an outrageous outfit. And she had the audacity to flirt with your husband in front of your children! You looked at his hand and he was definitely wearing his wedding band, "you know there's something so attractive about a single father."

"I'm not-"

"I can't even imagine everything you have to go through," she put her manicured hand over her heart, "you know if you ever need anything-"

"Hello, my love!" You slapped on the biggest grin you could manage as you sauntered over to him. Relief flooded his features as soon as he saw, along with the heart eyes he always seemed to watch you, “I was looking for you! We got separated.”

“H-hey baby,” he sounded so thankful that it caused you to shoot him a quick wink, “glad you found us.”

“Me too,” you walked over and gave him a big kiss, careful not to squish the baby, “I hate being separated from you, even if its just for a few minutes. Oh, hello. And you are?”

“Millie,” her entire face fell as she looked you over. You could tell she wasn’t expecting a wife, let alone you, “y-you’re-”

“I’m his wife,” you confirmed with a sticky sweet smile, “and the mother of all of his children.”

“O-oh, I didn’t mean to…imply anything,” but yeah, you weren’t buying that for a moment.

“Oh? Well, he’s wearing a wedding ring and clearly not interested,” you were enjoying this a little too much, “but thank you for your comments on my children. They are very adorable and sweet. But we can handle them on our own, sweetie. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” and with that, she turned the corner and you could hear her high heels shuffling away. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to face Javier. You weren’t quite sure what reaction you were supposed to be expecting, but it wasn’t the smug, proud expression he wore.

“What was that?” he asked, as he watched the kids look at everything on shelves. He took a step closer to you and put a hand on your hip and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Dulzura.”

“It wasn’t anything,” you replied simply with a shrug, “I was just making sure she knows who you belong to. And to stay away from my children.”

“You’re always sexy, you know that,” he whispered close to your ear, “you’re even sexier when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you put your hand on his cheek and patted it playfully, “there’s nothing to be jealous of. You’re mine and everyone knows that. You know that.”

“I do,” he promised, “I am yours. I’ve always been yours, from the day we met.”

“Hmmm,” you mused as you pressed a kiss to his lips, “good man, Javier. I’m yours too, you know.”

“I know,” he growled as you smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you grinned, “if I ever see another woman try to make a move on you, I won’t be as nice. She caught me on a good day.”

“I doubt that’ll happen again-”

“I doubt that,” you insisted, “you’re fine as hell, Javier. Just because you refuse to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. You really don’t notice how all these women look at you, do you?”

“Nope,�� he looked so proud of him, “because I’ve only got eyes for one woman.”

“You always know exactly what to say,” you sighed wistfully as you looked him over, “I am going to take care of you tonight, amor. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Baby,” he groaned slightly at your insinuation, “I want to-”

“Papá!” Lucia waved at him from down the aisle, “come here!”

You laughed softly as he closed his eyes and let out a small groan. You gave him a quick kiss before nudging him towards his daughter.

“This isn’t finished,” he whispered to you as raised an eyebrow, “I mean it, Dulzura.”

“I’m counting on that, cielito.”

“Papá! Hurry!”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x fem!reader #javier pena imagine #javier pena one shot #pedro pascal #agm #javi x dulzura #a good man

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onyourhyuck · 1 year

Text

Never-Ending Goodbyes. | Johnny Suh (M) | PART ONE.

Prologue: “No, No you cannot return after 16 years thinking you can walk back into her life, Johnny. That’s now how it freaking works.” + “I beg you to give me a chance and let me see her. I realised the mistake I made and I don’t plan on letting her go.”

The Summary: It’s always been you and your daughter Eve. Johnny’s never intended to be in the family picture considering he chose his career instead, but after sixteen years your daughter’s seventeen birthday came up and now Johnny is back asking for a second chance.

The Warnings: Second Chance trope. Johnny got the milk bro. Found family trope. Romance. Angst. Very angsty. Lots of heartbreak. Single mum supremacy. Slight crack but only mild funny relief.

The Taglist: @roxyvogue @lanawyi @thedaisyarchive @1-800-call-ria @rjreins @pckeia @baeyrah @reader221 @hoseokssl

The Notes: Who wants more parts to see fanfic? Lemme know.

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“Mummmmmmmmmm.”

Your daughter, Evelyn whines as she pushes the stroller full of the groceries you were picking up from the shelves inside Walmart. She never liked shopping, especially because all she does is push the stroller and having to deal with hours of watching you become indecisive of what to get and not to get. It’s ridiculous, knowing she could’ve been at HOME, playing overwatch and Valorant and grinding on that game. But no, you dragged her inside Walmart for your daily grocery shopping because your house is empty and the fridge needs to be restocked.

You didn’t pay attention to all that whining and complaining behind you as your thumb caressed the peanut butter jar spread humming. “What ya think, should we get this peanut butter spread to try out?” You ask turning to your daughter Evelyn.

Evelyn scowls as she sassily grabs the jar and puts it back on the shelf. Instead she grabs the Nutella jar. “Ew mum, Nutella is better. Get Nutella.” She tells and you smile. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Guess who’s seventeen tomorrow.” You sang in a sweet tone acting like you wouldn’t know who. Your daughter smirks at your endless teasing looking away slightly embarrassed as she whines out again, “Mummm.” She tells you and you close your lips shut nodding.

“Okay okay I’ll stop annoying you.”

You tell Evelyn, but you can’t help but to annoy her even more.

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Morning washed over Evelyn’s face when she saw your figure standing in front of her bedroom window , wide open curtains allowing the sunshine to hit her face. Heck she didn’t even hear you walking inside you were like a ghost. You turn to your daughter who whines pushing the pillows on top of her face to cover the damn sun from blinding her.

“Wakey wakey sleeping beauty, you’re seventeen today!” You cheer and she kicks herself up from the bed stretching. You embrace her lovingly and Evelyn allows you to basically suffocate her in this warm hearting hug of the century.

She muffled in your shoulder. “Yeah- thanks mum love you too, but there’s no need to suffocate me.” She jokingly adds and you let go with a beckoning grin. Evelyn always throws in sarcastic and dry jokes. It reminds you of someone but you wouldn’t want to reminiscent about who that was. It would only ruin the happy and cheerful mood of today. You bring your hand from the back pocket as you turn it to Evelyn with your both hands closed right.

She looks at you in suspicious manner as her eyebrows curve upright. “What’s this?” She questions and you lean closer whispering. “Guess which hand.” You tell her and Evelyn turns your right hand over revealing a small jewellery box. You smile opening it as your daughter looks astonished by the beautiful necklace in sight. It was golden and the middle diamond was green, her favourite colour and her favourite gem; emerald.

You let a few words of acknowledgment as Evelyn stands in front of a mirror with her pyjamas on still, but as you were behind her (you were still slightly taller than her however she was nearing close to your height considering she’s at your shoulder length now.) putting the necklace around her neck from behind and smiling proudly at how grown up she is.

“Do you like it, Eve?” You tell her kindly and she traces her finger on the emerald in awe. “Like it? Mum I freaking love it!” She blurts out before turning around engulfing you in a deep and exciting hug.

You laugh out loud as you rub her back and until both bodies pull apart she looks in the mirror again, checking out how the beautiful necklace looks on her fair skin. You cross your arms as you point to the closet now.

“Come on get ready, I’m taking you out to the diner to get breakfast.” You tell her .

Eve gasps dramatically. “Oh my god what happened to mum and who are you? You never like to eat at diners because the foods greasy.”

“Ha ha ha very funny.” You roll your eyes at the words as you click your lips pointing at your watch on the arm. “Hurry up before I change my mind Eve.” You tease closing the door. You heard the sudden footsteps rushingly trying to change, you know how much your daughter loves the diners especially the sweet American styled diners. Chicago has a lot of open spaces and it’s practically American culture.

You’re an American too but you never seem to fit in considering the fact that you weren’t born here. But the love of your life was born here unfortunately, not anymore. You brush past your inner thoughts and get inside the car waiting for your daughter to come out.

Speaking of your daughter she rushed out with her shoes barely on. Locking the front door as she opens the car door and goes inside, fixing on the chunky sneakers on her feet. You smile admiring how she was dressed today.

Evelyn wore an outfit perfect for the January season. It’s cold and Chicago is known for being the most windy state. Her natural curls fall on her shoulders, she cut her hair few months ago and now it’s grown quite a lot. She used to have super long hair and you guess she got bored of it, so she cut it really short. Her naturally curly eyelashes perk up as she put on some blush and lip balm on. It was natural beauty she has, honestly, you wish you looked like that when you were younger. Because puberty hit you like a truck.

Evelyn fixed her white sweater in the car mirror as you start the car. “You got everything you need?” You ask and the teenage girl hums a nod. “Yeah, lesgo I’m starving mama.” She complained rubbing her stomach as she closed the mirror on the car. You chuckle driving out of the car space.

The drive to the diner wasn’t that long however to your hangry daughter it felt more than a fifteen minute drive considering the fact her stomach kept on growling and growling. You wanted to joke that she’s hiding a bear or something in that stomach of hers. Once you and your daughter entered the driver you took a seat nearby the windows with four seats, the red cushion chairs and brown table with a candy theme going on. The waitress took your order and than you had to wait a few minutes which was also another crisis for your daughter who was impatiently waiting. The minute your plates arrive on the table let’s just say, Evelyn was possibly the most happiest person in the diner. She was clapping her hands and everything. You told her that she can get whatever she wants because you’ll pay for it.

Who would Evelyn be if she didn’t take you upon that offer huh? Let’s say you try to not look at the bill paper afterwards because you just know it would hurt your damn bank balance but let’s ignore that for today. You ordered waffles on the side of butter and covered with maple syrup and a flat white coffee; you need your daily dose cup of coffee that’s for sure. Evelyn on the other hand ordered extra. She ordered a stack of pancakes with nuttella and whipcream and a desert shake afterwards. You have to laugh a little because the amount of sugar she will intake but at least you’re glad she’s getting lots.

It is her seventeen and you are happy she’s still your little girl. Because next year she won’t be so little unfortunately and it might pain you. It’s already paining you to see her grow up from being such a little bean and now into a full grown human. You birthed her and it’s still, kinda shocking for you to admit how much the years have passed.

“Whoa slow down Eve it won’t run away.” You laugh as you saw Eve eat her pancakes, she was excited and you can tell the way she bops her head to the music of the diner.

Eve hums. “Oh by the way are we seeing nana later on?” She questions and you flash her a smile as you sip on your flat white.

Eve and your mother get along really well. If you have to be honest you’d have to say your mum replaced you with Eve. But you really don’t mind, you love their closeness. On the other hand Eve and your dad have a little love hate thing going on. It’s all banter though. Your dad has always been strict and he thinks Eve is getting slightly spoiled by you and nana.

“Yeah we are. She has presents to give you later.” You wiggle your eyebrows and Eve’s eyes sparkle. “Wait what did she get me?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

You exclaim with a smile and Eve flashed her puppy eyes at you that you often struggle to say no to. You look away and Eve huffs inside her seat. “Okay don’t tell me, I’ll know eventually today.” She says and you look at her with a hum, nomming on the waffles.

As your plates were crystal clear with no food left behind Eve took her shake drink and you would leave the diner going back inside your car heading home. As you arrive home you would get ready for your grandparents visit, every year you held your daughters birthday party at their house. They have a bigger house than you and considering they live nearby everyone related to you it’s best to spend Eve’s birthday there.

Eve comes downstairs wearing a white flowy dress and her hair prettily in a half up and half down style, wearing that emerald new necklace and her slippers on currently (god forbid if she wore shoes inside the house you’d murder her.) you smile looking her up and down.

“What?” She shyly said to you.

“You’re beautiful. Ready to leave?” You ask and she grins out. “I was born ready, comeee I miss nana.” She whines rushing to the door to put her shoes on but the minute the door opened she soon saw a figure standing there about to knock, she blinks at the person few times before questioning in confusion.

“Uh… can I help you?” Evelyn bluntly tells as she finally puts on the shoes and you couldn’t help but recognise the voice from the kitchen.

“I’m looking for…” he pauses as he realised who he was talking to, it was like a copy and paste of himself but female. You rush to the door and your eyes widen. Oh, oh god what’s happening you ask yourself before bringing Evelyn back, giving her the car keys.

“Evelyn go inside the car I’ll be right there .” You tell her rather hurried and she looks at you weirdly and at the man before pushing past him. Johnny bites his bottom lip awkwardly as he points at Eve and back at you. “Eve? That’s eve?” He questions. He swears she had her first birthday literally last week.

You stare at him as if he was serious or pretending to be dumb with you.

“Johnny what the hell are you doing here.” You said coldly not really looking at home as you push your jacket back on. Johnny however couldn’t take his eyes off you, he was admiring you and trying his hardest not to stare too hard for you to notice. He pushes past and clears his throat. “I wanted to see Eve. It’s her birthday so..”

“Yeah? do you know how old she is now?” You retort back as you close the door shut slamming it. Johnny flinched watching you become frustrated, actually emotional and he didn’t mean to upset you if he knew his presence would make you angry. You glare up at him as Johnny stared back, with guilty.

“I…” He begins and you cut him off with a scoff. “You don’t even know your daughter’s birthday. Wow.”

Yup. There it goes. Johnny thought. You push Johnny away from the pathway as you make it to the car, Evelyn sitting inside the car confused and both scared when she saw Johnny grab your wrist and stop you from walking way. You turn around with an enticing deathly glare before snatching your wrist back.

“I’m sorry Y/n please listen to me.” Johnny trails slowly.

“I beg you to give me a chance and let me see her. I realised the mistake I made and I don’t plan on letting her go.”

“No, No you cannot return after 16 years thinking you can walk back into her life, Johnny. That’s now how it freaking works.”

You shout at him this time loudly and he stands there quiet as he watches you. It’s terrifying to be yelled at by you but it’s not hurting him as much as seeing you and Evelyn living your life without him and all because he made a wrong choice years ago. Who would’ve thought he left such a large scar in your heart and now his daughter’s life too? He reaches to hold your hands together as you let him but you can’t help but feel ashamed. Clenching your eyes as you are avoiding to cry. You don’t want your daughter’s seventeenth to be depressing and shit, Johnny didn’t want this either.

“I made a mistake and I regret it. I don’t know what I was thinking back then choosing and prioritising my work over my family. If I knew how this would’ve hurt you I would’ve never done it. I mean this.” He stated thickly as his dark longing eyes watch yours, becoming teary eyed you shake your head clearing your voice. “I have to go. Eve’s watching and my parents are waiting for me to drop her.” You explain to him and he nods softly letting your hands go.

You were about to walk away, until his voice calls out from behind and you turn around.

“Do you think i can come back?”

Johnny solely says out and you watch him with brimming tears rolling down your cheek. Clenching your fists as your look down.

“It’s not up to me.” You tell him. “It’s Evelyn’s choice.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! REBLOG AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE UPDATES ON THE FIC <3 HELPS A GIRL OUT.

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kitty-kitty-boomba · 24 days

Text

Hi Honey! Welcome home!

omogomgomgomgomg-

AMAB! Sevika x Reader- BUT IN REVERSE

JUST HEAR ME OUT-

Also- this shit is long as hell. Like, I'm actually so sorry. P.S- I ran out of steam after I explain the situation, so respectfully? Writing is a tinie bit trash- But just a little! Also, no rlly proof-read sorryyyy

18+! MDNI

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Sevika and you have been married for four years now- and today would be your anniversary. You were actually celebrating being together for 10 yrs, your argument being that knowing each other as friends still counts. Sevika didn't care so as long as she had you, so she was all gun-ho for whatever you wanted as long as she got her "alone" time with you. Point is, you been planning for this day a lot. Like- for two weeks straight- a lot. Honestly, planning has never been this hard for you. Which is funny, because planning a wedding and the fattest after-party is no joke. For other people, what you were doing is arguably too much. But there is no such thing when it comes to your lil' mamma [i'm srry].

To break it down, you were going to spoil her like she spoils you. And thanks to her Ovulation days starting right in the first two days before the anniversary- you weren't going to have an issue fucking her stupid and taking charge for the night. That was your ultimate goal out of everything- but nobody knew that but you. [lies- Sevika knows. we'll get back to that.]

1st: You would start with Breakfast in bed and kisses. Give a massage if she likes. Really just seduce her, and mayybe give her a baby edible so she's near putty because otherwise, she'd spoil it for herself. After she got her mandatory cuddle session, you'd tell her you have to give your mom something. You'd send her off to hang with the kids a bit before stealing her- promising you wouldn't pass 5 o'clock because duh.

2nd: Literally everything else.

Thankfully, the two weeks was just you trying to see what Sevika wanted as a meal and not you picking out a theme to decorate with. Decoration was easy: Dim lighting via the fancy light switches you had Sevika install years ago, fake rose petals, real roses for the vases, regular candles for the dinning table, and a few vanilla scented candles for the bedroom. [your like for vanilla rubbed off on her. you didn't want kill more roses. you love roses, you like flowers in ur in vases and said vases are empty. you will be too busy fucking, you aren't burning the house down with candles]

Sevika- like the little shit she is- tried her damnedest to distract you from your spoiling mission, because of course she is. She acted all seductive and fucked you anywhere-anytime so you'd forget about whatever you had planned. The only way you got your answer was letting her fuck you until she collapsed. She could barley think straight, and while you weren't any better, you mumbled the ask just for her to say the dish you both have been eyeing for a while. You figured she'd want that, but you still wanted to make sure.

Secretly- at least that's what you thought, we'll get 2 that too- You shopped all the ingredients for it two days before. [You hid it in the Last Drop's fridge for a day before taking it back home. Vander, Silco, and Ran were Angels- Helping you by getting the kids to not mention the weird selection of groceries and keeping Sevika from opening it herself]

You also planned to get the homemade chocolate from her grandma's, Amelia: Yours and Sevika's favorite sweets of all time.

The last thing was dress up, which again, also wasn't hard. Sevika always dressed nice because she knows how much the little things mean to you. It was you who was freaking out on what to wear. You took to your mom, asking to get dressed at her house because you were worried Sevika would find the clothes. You wouldn't be wearing them long, but this was a semi-surprise so you were doing the grand reveal bit. You were torn between a dress like usual, or spicing things up and surprising your wife by matching her style a bit and wearing a suit. Ultimately- your mom silenced your worries by saying that Sevika would love to see you with a tailored suit on. She got you one as her anniversary gift. You just about cried.

3rd: Execute said planned and get fucked. That's it. Your not sure way you wrote that in the list- that's something that's literally impossible to not do with Sevika as your wife... But who cares?

During the planning, you were buttering Sevika up. From high-end Whiskey and Scotch, to flowers and chocolate, you were laying it on thick. You know it takes Sevika a minute to warm up to pampering- even if the minute was just her trying to distract you- so you happily continued and waited until she gave you nothing but a whine when you dissolved her into putty.

On the night before though- you had a mini-break down.

You did a facetime call with Amelia and your mom, out on your balcony trying to stop tearing up and keep your voice down as you voiced how nervous you were. Would the food come out good? Would it even come out at all? Would you burn it- or maybe do something else to mess it up? Could you even decorate and get dressed in time? Did you have to do hair, make up, and clothes before hand to cut down time? What if you sweat it all of or smell like steak! What if-!

They silence you quickly. They're helping you with the little things, so why not a bit more? They don't have nothing important for that day besides sending little gifts with you. So, you all agree to take a job. The food is meant to be cooked closer to when Sevika expected to be home, but if you got nervous, you could cook and Amelia would bud if you needed her and put everything in the oven to keep them fresh until they had to leave. Your mom would help decorate if necessary, and your hair will be the first thing done and pinned up in pin-curls so it would beautiful after you get dressed. Easy peasy- and if not- they'll make it happen for their favorite girl.

That helped more than you could ever say, and you slept real nice that night thanking the powers that the sleep aids you gave Sevika kept her sleepy so she wouldn't spoil anything. Little did you know, they weren't working for you.

Sevika had both them, Vander, Silco, and Ran recruited to keep you thinking you were being slick. She tricked you and picked the dish you wanted almost since the month started because she wanted you to enjoy the meal too- plus, that steak looked freaking amazing in the cookbook picture. The whole resistance to your pampering was Sevika being her beautiful self. She allows tons of things, but that type of love is hard for her to receive. So on top of watching you, she pampered you her own way by loving on you a lot more and giving you cash to spend. You kept saying you don't need it, but that shy smile and the blush blooming all over you was more than enough to keep it coming.

The smug sex-distraction part was improvised at first, because there was no way she could keep her hands off you for more than two seconds. But after it became clear it was working- Who is she to not take advantage?

So, as you planned- she planned.

She'd let you take it away, whatever decore you wanted, and anything else. She felt a bit bad for going behind your back after you spent time trying to make things perfect, so she transferred money into you account everyday and kept saying it was her "early anniversary gift". She didn't hear the conversation, but they called and told her the morning of that you were very excited, aka their way of saying her poor baby is stressed out. She was ready to tell everyone to spill the beans- but after all you've done, she really wanted to treat you.

And treat you she did.

Come the morning of, she lets do your thing, it was hard not too.

But after you do your whole spiel and send her off- both plans go into motion.

She did her everything shower, oiled up, and scented herself to the gods with that smokey, musky, amber/vanilla date-night scent you adore on her. After, she went to The Last Drop. Ran did Sevika's hair, nails [prosthetic too], and makeup, shit-talking and drinking with their best friend to calm her nerves. They even helped attach the new "skin" Sevika made for her arm, The smooth arm-like copper remined them of the one she made for her wedding day, just a bit less ornate. This is the most she's done since her wedding day, and a part of her felt completely ridiculous because she's long since forgotten how getting extra dressy felt. She doesn't understand what's become of her right now, but she feels to giddy to crush her sparking confidence- these red little almond nails looked too good.

She looked too good. If she says so herself.

Silco kept the kids upstairs with cartoon and an excessive amount of Amelia's chocolates- so it was up to Vander and Ran to keep that fire going and have their friend strut her shit for her special day. The eggs are taking over though, because while they give her a pep-talk that woman is thinking of all the positions to get that baby [lil' shit] that you've both wanted desperately [as of two months now].

A once over and Ran sends her off, telling another crappy joke and telling her not to forget to fluff her hair after she takes the rollers out. Sevika had two cups a liquid audacity that was more than enough to have her strutting the streets with her silk scarf covered head and her painted face. Everyone is looking at her in awe- only looking away when they realize that they're not worthy. If you were here with her, you'd stare at whoever even dared to look at her extremely wrong. She laughs to herself at that, causing some to flinch and scurry back to their little corner.

Because she timed it [and cus Amelia told her so], she went home to cook her gal a meal with an extra dessert planned...

She's shocked when the food comes banger and smells absolutely devine. You would love this, you'd be so proud- that's what she muses with, and her cunt certainly agrees if that clench was anything to go by. When she finishes frosting the cake, your mom calls her, letting her know that your dress and on your way. She laugh too herself for a good 2 mins, the idea of you dress up and fighting the steak hilarious to her. Thanking her for the heads-up, Sevika ends the call -covers the cake- and puts on the lace number, her thigh-highs and garter, and the dress.

Yes. A dress.

And fuck did she look smoking.

She did a once-over and applied more lipstick and perfume, before speeding back to the kitchen to grab the fancy bucket Silco gifted her on her wedding day. The champagne and towel looked professional, and she's three steps away from the table to finish setting it-

Then the door jingles.

She's about cumbusts right there on the damn spot [get it? I'm srry again]. Almost tossing the thing on the table and throwing herself to you- but she rehearsed this- she knows what to do.

Fucking focus Sevika Lanes!

You open the door and drop both the keys and chocolate on the little table by the door. She sauntered over so fucking proud, a nervous flash making your diamond nibble her lips before letting go. A sultry tone nearly silence by your horniess.

"Welcome home doll."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes are everywhere. Where can you pick when everything's fucking delicious?

A black get up, there's no color besides a blood red on her lips. A fifties old money heart-throb is what your diamond is. Her hair falling just like that pretty hairstyle you see in the stereotypes, the one with a side part and covering her eye? Yeah. And the short hair was making things extra tempting. You smell her from here, you catch the teardrop pearl earrings and matching necklace you bought her decorating her skin. But that dress. The thing itself is velvet, a deep sweetheart with semi-thin halter strap making those pretty tits even more plush. You make her do a little spin, and it's low cut-out back too, the most sinful thing. The bottom of the dress is a problem. There's a slit, ending right atop her hip, the floor-length skirt making those legs damn delectable in your eyes. Fuck- is she using a garter belt to hold the tights? Oh shit, an actual- fuck- a garter touching your shit. Oh- heels.

You don't know you moved impossibly closer to her until Sevika nervously asks: "Uh- D-doll? Are y-you ok?"

Oh you just about take her on the damn door, but your nose catches something real nice behind her. Fuck- answer her!

"Oh. O-oh honey. Oh yes."

Your voice isn't above a whisper, your too in love to properly voice all the emotions you feel right now. All of them putting joy to shame. You hear her deflate almost, leaning into your open arms with a sigh, sucking in your scent when she realized you wore your signature: A soft floral scent, a bit of fruity coming through the hints of amber. It sound weird to say out loud to anyone- but it's so unequivocally you.

"Oh gods, good. I thought you'd be mad at me after all the work you went through to make things perfect..."

Her voice is shaky, not with tears thankfully, but with relief. She just keeps huffing you, just like she does when she needs to ground herself . You on the other hand? You are doing nothing wholesome, nor are you thinking it. You are acting very un-lady like, groping her ass and sniffing that scent that has you complete drugged. There's no way you could go through with this, not when her boobs touch your face. Not when she smell like this. Not when her hormones beg for your love. Not when-

"Doll- I want you to see something. Keep it in you pants a little longer? For me- MÍ Amor?"

This is when it clicks that's it taking everything in her to shimmy out of your grip. When you register that the thing your smelling is food and not only her arousal- You quickly nod your head and briskly let go like she burned you. It's that or your taking that slutty dress off. Mrs. Rabbit who?

She backs up, fixes herself and re-adjusts her hair, and takes you by the hand.

Oh gods: how beautiful she set this table. It looked fantastic.

You hoped you expressed as much as your mouth hung open in disbelief, then Sevika had the gall to hold her hands together Infront of her, nervous. How could she be nervous? Still, she nibbled on her lip waiting for you to say something.

And how she'd take anything to silence the ache in her chest. Gods, you looked entirely to good in that suit for her to continue with this dinner. Why do you always want to do these nice things? She needs to get railed ri-

"Diamond... This is beautiful. You did all of this?"

She give a little nod, her proud feeling making her all giddy and having her stand taller like she needed to correct her posture. You had a ridiculous smile probably, but you were so fucking amazed and proud of her, you didn't dare school your joy.

"Thihis is amazing love! Look at you being a lil' chef! You telling me you could do this all along?!"

She snorts a laugh, fully relieved that your happy and not disappointed that she ruined your surprised- but with relief comes something darker that's clouding 90% of her vison. You both know it.

Dinner's here- you're just missing the show. To redeem yourself you pull out her chair and have her sit down, pushing her in before running to your seat. Once your settled, you pour the champagne and give her the flute: Then she says, "Bueno Amor, open it. I hope you like it, I think I might have put bit to much pepper..."

=======

Anddd skiping to a blip of smut, I can't think rn- to much flustered. But know this- she brutal on the other side of the table and teasing you to no end. Horny she is- but she's making sure it ur problem. P.S- Sevika is bra-less, and ur telling me "girl- duh" but you don't get it. there's no pasties either, just pretty tities with nipples poking right through.

===SMUT====

Sevika doesn't know when you ever fucked her this hard. You're practically growling, and animalistic need taking you as you rail her harder each time like your thick 9 inches isn't stretching her to the brink of insanity. Oh- and how incredible that would be. Sevika can't fight it, she lost her ordering rights when she pushed you too far at the table. Even if you let her have a few seconds of control at the beginning. She's left trying to crawl away just for you to pull her back telling the nastiest thing in her ear.

"You think y' so fukin' funny huh? Wearing that skimpy thing, being a good lil' -hah- M-my good housewife 'nd not have may baby? But y' want that no? y'a want a lil' cake in there. Ya?"

And all she could do is sob through a moan, a babble trying to cuss you out as she begs you for more.

She gets that baby that night, but you make sure the next morning.

@archangeldyke-all- Hope you like?😭can't write rn- but hopfully you can do the dinner and the smut better?

Hopfully y'all enjoy too!!

kisssessssss

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika arcane #sevika

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weirdmorefics · 1 year

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Can you do a Aaron hotchner young daughter reader who has autism and she starts struggling to control her emotions and she try’s to hit Aaron or jack but he tries to calm her down without triggering her worse

Autistic Daughter Reader x Father!Aaron Hotchner

Patterns and Observations

TW- Meltdowns, Panic Attacks, Sensory overload

Pronouns- She/her

Word Count- 954

Summary- Hotchner just finished a case sadly he was greeted with a nearly emptied fridge and Jessica had just left after watching the kids for three days. Hotch plans to take Jack and the reader to the grocery store but the reader starts to panic about the grocery store.

A/N- Oh my goodness, so sorry for how behind I am on requests. I just had a shop update so I have been very busy printing maybe check it out 👀 This fic would probably be super relatable for my Mom cause I use to slam my head on the floor of Walmart. Good times... not

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh as he enters his home and sets his briefcase down. Y/N and Jack start running up to him as soon as they hear his signature sigh.

"How about we let your father rest for now he looks like he had a hard time at work." The kid's Aunt Jessica smiled politely.

"Don't worry, I may have had a hard time at work, but I always have time for my favorite people," He smiles and scoops them both into a group hug.

Y/N and Jack giggle and Jess smiles 'Looks like you have it all handled here I should really get going."

"Thank you again for watching them it helps so much," Hotch says as she prepares her stuff to leave.

"Anything for Niece and Nephew," she says pinching their checks as Jack rolls his eyes and Y/N winces. She kisses their heads and says her goodbyes and leaves.

"Now," Hotch clasps his heads together. "What should we have for dinner?"

"Chicken nuggets!" Y/N shouts.

"You always want that," Jack sighs.

Just as Jack and Y/N were about to start a rousing fight about chicken nuggets Hotch interrupted. "Lucky for the both of you we are nearly out of everything and have to go to the store if we want to eat dinner and breakfast."

Jack was instantly excited about leaving the house after being stuck there with his Aunt while his Dad was away. Y/N was not as excited as Jack and by that I mean she was not excited at all.

"Can't we just order food," She asks nervously. Y/N may be young but she knows patterns just like her father. She knows that is five o'clock and that is the time most adults get out of work which means the store will be busy with other adults bringing dinner home. If the store is crowded it will be loud and if it's loud everything else will be loud the lights, the wheels on the cart, the beeping of the registers. I try to physically shake the thoughts out of my head but it doesn't work so I shake my head faster and place my hands over my ears.

Hotch does not hear Y/N's shaking and answers while still looking in the fridge. "Well, we wouldn't have anything to eat for breakfast and you know how moody Jack gets when he is hungry." He chuckles.

Hotch's chuckle ceases when Jack says "I think there is something wrong with Y/N."

Hotch turns around faster than you think would be humanly possible to see Y/N shaking her hand and covering her ears.

"Hey Y/N, would you like to talk about how you are feeling right now?" He says as he slowly walks up to her.

" I think she needs a stim toy," Jack says happy to come up with a solution on his own.

"Great idea Jack why don't you get her one?" Hotch smiles.

Hotch returns his attention to Y/N, " I am going to hold your hands now because you are going to hurt your neck if you keep shaking your head so hard."

She can't seem to focus on his words too stuck in her repeated thoughts. When he takes her hands away from her she starts to try to hit him away. Instead, he takes her into a deep hug due to the fact he learned from Reid that deep pressure can calm autistic children and adults with hypo or hypersensitivity. Y/N's breaths slow after a couple minutes and her heart doesn't feel like it is beating out of her chest anymore.

"People get out of work at five then the store is busy and loud," Y/N states as a fact.

"That's a great observation, sometimes it helps to share your observations so we can make a plan. For example, like I do at my work we make observations about people so we can make a profile. So together let's make a plan to go to the store when it is less busy. What time do you think it's the least busy." Hotch replies in a soothing tone.

"Morning on a weekday everyone is at school or work so quiet and barely anyone is there." She responds flatly like she is reading it straight from a textbook in her mind.

"Great, then we will get take out tonight and shop tomorrow. If you keep up these great observations I might have to watch out for my job." Hotch says adding a joke at the end.

Y/N smiles and laughs, "I might be better at your job than you if I can tell when a grocery store isn't busy and you can't."

"Oh really if you would be so better than me at my job you'd have to be able to beat me in a tickle war and I don't think that has ever happened once." He says mischievously as he reaches his hands out to tickle her.

Y/N goes running to hide behind the couch and Jack enters confused. "What is going on?"

"Jack we must tickle him together or else we will never win!" She raises her hand and declared.

Jack quickly nods his head in agreement and they rush to tickle their dad.

"Hey. Hey. That's cheating," He shouts as they pile on top of him.

His shouts just make them giggle harder and he sighs in defeat, "How about we call it a draw in exchange for McDonald's?"

Jack and Y/N quickly get off him, "To the car!" They shouted in unison.

Hotch gets up shakes his head and far much enthusiastically says "To the car."

#aarron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fluff #hotch imagine #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot

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my-ultimate-is-ready · 2 years

Note

from the prompt meme (if you're still doing it ofc) “i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." w Reyes 😈

Gabriel’s back from god-knows-where for god-also-only-knows-how-long, a pause in his suffocating schedule allowing him to spend a few luxurious days at home, so you can live like all the couples around you do. High on your priority list is doing all the laundry your washing machine can handle, catching up on all your favourite shows you swore you wouldn’t watch while he was away, and making dinner together.

At some point in this unadorned normality, you’ve also got to go grocery shopping, and while it’s not the most riveting of things you can do together, it’s significantly less of a chore with him there. It takes inordinate amounts of fuel to keep him running; SEP created a super soldier with a super appetite. So, with Gabriel home and the fridge pitifully empty, it’s a non-negotiable addition to your day.

But what a joy it is to feel halfway ordinary, defaulting to your routine that gets interrupted every other week when he becomes a mere voice over the phone or a few lines of text in a written message.

When he’s home, you live slowly—one day at a time.

Out of necessity, Gabriel’s efficiency is unparalleled. It doesn’t matter how organized you are when he is a master at packing and planning. It’s thanks to him that you’ve never set foot into a store without your reusable bags, and it is also thanks to him that unloading the groceries from the car to the kitchen takes a single trip.

Is any sight more touchingly domestic than him hauling several massive blue IKEA bags as though they’re precious cargo?

Going down the list that he remembered to bring—even though you wrote it, you’d forgotten about it—Gabriel ensures you’ve got all your essentials but can’t find the last ingredient you need. You know it’s crucial that when you have the chance to cook together, there’s no deviation from the recipe, no disrupting the ritual. When he suggests the pair of you should make a stop at another store, it’s not a compromise that you’re unwilling to make, but you’d much rather get back home and have him all to yourself again.

“Maybe we have some left from last time,” you say, trailing out as you scour the shelf for the third time, making a showy pretence of it.

“We don’t,” he informs with a discontented shake of his head, “I checked.”

The addendum to the shopping list was his doing, penned in at the bottom.

“Can we do without it?”

“We probably could, but do we want to? This is the question we have to ask ourselves. You know it’s not going to taste the same.”

He’s too determined for his own good sometimes.

It’s not that you want to rush him; it’s just that you know what traffic is like and how a little detour could throw the rest of your afternoon off. If you weren’t constantly picturing time dripping through the narrowest point of an hourglass, maybe you would have a single chill.

But you don’t, and Gabriel is already wise to some version of that.

Naturally, you think of a way to suggest he shuffle his priorities around and get you home without asking him to blatantly give up—because he won’t.

Beckoning him to lend you an ear with a finger, he leans down so you can whisper: “I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.”

Something passes over him as he returns to his full height. Once you think he’s past replying, he speaks into a closed fist, “Holy shit.”

“You good?” A bad question, knowing full well you’ve quietly obliterated him.

He clears his throat and assures, “Never better.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how we need to home before the ice cream melts.”

“What ice cream?”

Gabriel steps away, opens the closest freezer, grabs a pint of ice cream, and adds it onto the heap in your cart. “That one.”

Then he slips behind you and helps you steer towards the checkout, whispering in your ear about how he still can’t believe the things that come out of your mouth sometimes.

#gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes imagine #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagine #you asked for sexy and i gave you GROCERY STORE #but am i wrong #this man watches sports and cooking shows with the same intensity.#alternative scenario: you say you're not wearing underwear and he's like. yeah i know #it's all in the laundry i literally just threw it all in the dryer before we left #gabriel reyes puts up with so much bless his soul #gabriel reyes #gabriel #reyes #these #replies #prompt meme

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asinfullangel · 7 months

Text

8 Sudden

“You shouldn’t have done that! You know I’m a stress eater.”

You know all sorts of accidents can happen and a lot more can also happen during October when you have jumpscares at play. You get spooked, jump back or something as a reaction before possibly and accidentally falling down. You may laugh afterwards or yell at them for scaring them that bad and such, but what about those who need their solutions/methods to calm down afterwards. Let's play with the idea of a stress eater that runs out of food to eat, hehe.

For someone that needs to eat to counteract the feeling of stress then you could imagine how hard that is during a spooky month for someone with this problem. Probably trying to hide in their house to get away from any jumpscaring people, watching videos of other people getting scared to give them confidence or prepare themself if it happens to them and a lot of grocery shopping. For this pred is said to have an eating problem and his friend enjoys this holiday season a bit too much than what is normal for others. Always a bit nervous to hang out with his friend while the friend enjoys bringing in some spooks with the season last. (With a little bit of bad luck at play both parties can cause a bit of fun for us at least).

The pred today was unluckily enough to get scared left and right after walking into the wrong kind of hay maze that clearly had a sign stating that, “prepare for frights if you dare to walk inside.” The reason why he could try out a hay maze was just because he was having a good day and thought it would be fun to try out. He was wrong, very wrong way before he stepped out of the hay maze with a newly stuffed gut barely hidden by his shirt. This is how bad his stress eating can get when he needs to eat something right at the moment. As for his friend he wasn’t having much luck with getting some playful scares from his friends, a little down in the dumps because of it. Till he remembers that the pred (let's call him Oliver) is an easy target to be scared of as long as he brings him something to eat after as an apology. He does have something fun planned at least.

Now here comes the fun, Oliver coming back home to see a cake half his height just sitting on this dinning table, now isn’t this predictable. Sadly, Oliver wasn’t thinking of how or when a cake of this size got into his home though his nerves were saying, “start eating.” He was alone so why bother using some decent and ate with his hands, one vanilla cake to enjoy and no way in his mind that this could-

“Surprise! I got you-” then into Oilver’s mouth he goes. A stress eater gotta eat, he was hiding in his cake and accidentally jumped straight up into his mouth. Scared of the unexpected surprise caused him to wolf down whatever was in his mouth recently and soon had his friend funneling into his gut along with the cake. The cake afterwards was gone in under a minute and some ice cream in the fridge right after. After a while (and 4 empty tubs of ice cream later) Oliver finally stops and crashes his butt onto the sofa, panting as he rubs his hands along the stretch sides of his gut. “M-Maybe I went a little overboard today. I ate a whole cake, but whatever the hell spooked me caused me to actually finish that cake and some ice cream right in one sitting.” Grabbing his gut to feel how dense it became. Some belly sitting in his lap and the heat from it felt lost to sleeping under a blanket during summer. He pounded his chest a few times to release some gas and burp up a card that he may have eaten (only because he got frosting on when half of the cake was still standing). “I hope you enjoy the little treat I got for you and the extra filling I personally filled in myself.” Oliver must be thinking that this was such a nice gift he got in a while and especially today. He may had eaten a man early at a hay maze and finish him off in a matter of minutes (he will respawn back home in the morning), but this cake was a nice treat to eat away his worries (and the friend included that will learn to never scare Oliver as long as he live).

#male vore #male vore prompts #vore prompts #voretober #by me

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sugdenlovesdingle · 8 months

Text

Tarlos @flufftober day 4 (day 3 is still in the works but will be posted later today!)

Alt prompt #5 "Oh no, you're a morning person!"

The first morning (AO3)

The morning after the first time TK spends the night at Carlos' place

---

Carlos woke up and could barely move. For a second he thought sleep paralysis had taken over his body, but then he felt a puff of air on the back of his neck, and he remembered the night before.

He smiled to himself and slowly, carefully, turned around.

Next to him, or rather, clinging to him like an octopus, was TK.

TK who had finally agreed to spend the night and didn’t run a mile in the middle of the night.

He watched TK sleep and barely managed to stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through his hair.

It had been a rough few months for them but they were finally in a good place, only despite spending most evenings at Carlos’ place, TK had never actually stayed over. Until last night.

They’d gone out to the club they’d taken Paul to a few weeks earlier, and they’d danced and just let loose, knowing they’d both have a few days off coming up.

Afterwards Carlos had, almost on autopilot, driven them back to Owen’s place, only for TK to stop him and tell him to turn left to his house instead.

They hadn’t even done anything but snuggle up in bed and sleep, but Carlos couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy.

After allowing himself to look at TK a little longer, he carefully slipped out of bed and went downstairs. He was going to make TK breakfast in bed and make their first morning together special.

He opened the fridge and sighed when he saw its contents . He hadn’t planned on TK staying over and he hadn’t had the chance to go grocery shopping yet that week.

He briefly considered getting fresh pastries from the bakery down town TK had mentioned he liked, but he didn’t want to risk him waking up in an empty house thinking Carlos had run off.

“Looks like there’s enough for pancakes here.” He mumbled to himself. “And I still have some of that green tea he likes and those bananas are still ok to eat.” He shook his head when he realised he’d been talking to himself. “First sign of madness, Reyes.” He turned the radio on for background noise and got to work.

He wasn’t really listening to the music, just humming along while he cooked until he vaguely recognised a song his mother loved. He remembered catching his parents dancing to it in the kitchen on more than one occasion.

“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.” He quietly sang along, thinking of TK and maybe dancing to the very song with him some day.

“Oh no, you’re a morning person.” He suddenly heard from behind him, making him jump and turn around. “If this is a regular thing, this isn’t going to work.” TK joked, looking unfairly attractive for someone who had apparently just woken up.

“You're supposed to be in bed! I was going to make you breakfast in bed!” Carlos scolded him, when his heartrate had returned to normal.

“I woke up and you weren’t there. I got lonely.” TK shrugged, pushing himself off the doorjamb and walking over to Carlos, wrapping his arms around his waist. “And then I heard you down here and I thought I'd come enjoy the show.”

Carlos laughed and leaned in for a kiss.

“What can I say, I'm in a good mood.”

“Yeah? Any particular reason?”

“I don’t know. I had a good night’s sleep. It’s a nice day…”

“It’s raining.”

“Maybe I like rain.”

“No you don’t, you hate rain because it messes up your hair.” TK teased.

“That was one time!” Carlos protested. “And it was because I wanted to look nice for you on our first official date.”

TK’s face softened and he pressed another kiss to Carlos’ lips.

“You looked great babe. You always do. It’s not fair really.”

“Hmm… says the man who looks like a model when he’s just woken up.”

“Shut up. You’re my boyfriend, you’re biased.” TK said and Carlos briefly wondered if he could feel his heart skip a beat at the mention of that word. It wasn’t the first time TK had called him his boyfriend, but he still felt giddy every time.

“What are you making?” TK peeked over his shoulder at the stove.

“Pancakes. Is that alright?”

“Sure.”

“What? Don’t you like pancakes?”

“No I do, I do. I just... never really eat breakfast. I usually just have a smoothie and back in New York I’d just get a coffee and whatever pastry looked semi fresh from the bodega near the firehouse.”

Carlos frowned.

“You can’t live on coffee and a pastry. Let alone work a full shift.”

“I don’t know. I’d just rather sleep a little longer than get up to cook.”

“From now on, I’ll make you a real breakfast whenever I can.”

“From now on? Does that mean this will be a regular thing?” TK asked innocently.

“I hope so. I like waking up next to you.” Carlos said and kissed him before stepping out of his embrace and turning his attention back to the stove. “Sit down, they’re almost done.”

“I thought I was getting breakfast in bed?”

“Get back to bed then, I’ll be up in a sec.” Carlos ordered, making TK laugh

In the end they settled on the sofa together, enjoying the pancakes and each other’s company with the radio in the kitchen still playing mindless pop songs.

“You know that song is actually about a man.” TK said around a bite of food.

“What song?”

“The one you were singing along to in the kitchen earlier. Can't take my eyes off you. Bob Crewe wrote it after waking up next to a man one morning and not being able to stop looking at him.”

Carlos gave him a questioning look.

“How do you even know that?”

TK shrugged.

“My mom is a musical theatre fan. She'd take me to shows all the time back in New York. We saw Jersey Boys four times I think. The story of Frankie Valli and the four seasons. She knew the guy who played Bob Crewe somehow and he told us that after the show one time.”

“So what you're saying is that you are a secret theatre kid?” Carlos teased. “What other trivia do you know?”

“Not much. I was just reminded of it when I saw you in the kitchen. I think I understand Bob Crewe now.” TK said and pressed a kiss to Carlos’ shoulder.

“Yeah? Are you going to write a song about me then?”

TK laughed.

“If I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #flufftober2023 #tk strand #carlos reyes #my writing

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choiaerii · 7 months

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grocery shopping with enhypen · 엔하이픈 ·

¿ food, not proofread ¿ fluffy @ choiaerii

lowercase intended

lee heeseung ꔛ

your original plan was to go alone to the closest grocery store to buy food, but heeseung wouldn't let you, of course he had to go with you, his baby. you guys went to the grocery store and picked out some food. he payed for everything, not letting you spend a single penny. his justifies this with "why would i let you pay when i'm here?"

park jongseong ꔛ

rich boy he might as well just buy the whole store!! jay doesn't loving shopping, but he'll do whatever if it means spending time with you~ he buys literally EVERYTHING. whatever you want, he buys triple. so kind, and so rich.

sim jaeyun ꔛ

jake noticed that his fridge was looking a little empty lately, so he decided to drag you to the grocery store with him. "babe you're just better at buying food" was his excuse for spending more time with you, though he doesn't need one, you would spend your entire life with him. when you weren't looking, he secretly snuck a bag of fluffy marshmellows into the cart, and he ate his marshmallows happily, though he did offer you some when you found otu.

park sunghoon ꔛ

lets you choose everything ~ he really has no preference, as long as you like it, he likes it. when he thought you weren't looking, you saw him looking at the glass near the milk cartons, talking to himself about how handsome he was... you found it so cute

kim sunoo ꔛ

doesn't. let. you. spend. a. quarter. of. a. penny. you guys almost argued over who pays for the groceries, because he refuses to let you pay. you argue back with "i'm very capable of paying you know?" but he doesn't care. (he also secretly bought 4 buckets of mint choco ice cream)

yang jungwon ꔛ

going to the groceries is something he takes very seriously. he writes a whole list and everything, calculating the final cost, etc etc. when you make fun of him for being like your grandma, he responds with "hey it's called being organized you know?" so many laughs, this was so fun.

nishimura riki ꔛ

he makes everything fun ; even going to the groceries!! he sees you eyeing a bag of your favourite cookies, and he offers to buy them for you, knowing how much you love your cookies. he's so kind. when you guys were getting food from an empty aisle, he impresses you with his dance moves. you felt like you fell in love with him all over again.

aeri's note: guys. another imagine finished!! this is so fun, sorry for the spam posting >< SEND ME THINGS YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT I NEED MORE IDEAS PLEASE. go press the "questions" tab on my profile and req ideas i'm desperate!!! thank you guys sm for reading ily!!

#enhypen #kpop #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #kpop imagines #female reader

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dark-elf-writes · 6 months

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Family secret

My mom swears she home makes everything and uses having to cook as an excuse not to go places/do things. She also won’t tell anyone what the recipes are. Won’t even let people go grocery shopping with her.

Well guess what? I know her secret. She has a hidden freezer in the basement full of frozen food/ family dinners with “decoy food” upstairs. Aka empty boxes and containers that no one else seems to notice because no one but me goes into the fridge. They literally just have my mom get them/ make whatever. it drives me insane because how do you not notice half the containers are like props?????

We have real basic shit (bread, cheese, fruit, etc) but the container with “meat in it” is FAKE

THIS IS NEXT LEVEL LYING THIS IS LYING WITH A CONTINGENCY PLAN THIS IS AN ENTIRE FACADE OF A LIFE OVER NOTHING I AM FASCINATED

But beyond this the other people in you house just??? Don’t make food??? At all???? They just look at your mother and expect food to appear???? Are these siblings??? Are they going to move out one day and starve because they can’t work a microwave???? I have many questions

#the elf talks

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rainiishowers · 2 years

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I really liked that Mammon and crows request. I think Mammon knows everyone's secrets because of his crows 😂 If requests are still open can you make an overprotective Mammon when his crows tell him stuff. Like Lucifer staying up late without resting or one of his brothers (probably Levi) gets bullied. If not, Mammon bringing up what his crows tell him in an argument when his brothers are bullying him and making them shut up? Is that considered angst? I apologize it's probably too much 🥲

A/N: Hello Anon! Apologies for taking so long. I'll be doing the first one as I feel like I'll have an easier time with it, enjoy! Summary: Mammon's crows are like another set of ears, letting him know if anything happens to his family. Be it the brothers not taking care of themselves or others treating his brothers badly. Either way, the Avatar of Greed isn't having it. Genre: Fluff? ---

Lucifer is a busy man, Mammon knows this, but he thought that the eldest overworking himself wasn’t the best thing to do, considering he had been very sick the week before. Mammon has instructed his crows to deliver food, as he didn’t want to be a bother to Lucifer and stress him out more. But it did go as planned as while Mammon was counting grimm, some crows flew in and squawks at their master for attention. Mammon looks up, getting closer to the crows flying in They push the food basket he had given them to give to Lucifer towards him, getting a raised eyebrow in return. ‘He declined the food.’ “Seriously?” As far as Mammon knew, Lucifer wasn’t taking care of himself. Lucifer thinks he can just push through work without food or breaks, but being one of the most powerful in all the Devildom did not mean you didn’t need to take care of yourself. Finally having enough, Mammon grabs the basket and makes his way to Lucifer’s office, where the eldest would undoubtedly be. He knocks on the door and not even waiting for a response, he walks in. “Mammon, what are you doing here?” Lucifer asks, rubbing his temples before looking up, looking pale. The second eldest puts the basket on the desk in front of him, seeing a few coffee cups, one half full and the others empty. “Ya clearly haven’t been taking care of yerself. My crows told me you rejected the food I made ya.” Mammon grabs the empty coffee cups with a sigh. This was reminding him of how Lucifer was coping during the aftermath of the fall, guess old habits die hard.. “Listen, I’m goin’ to come back in 30 minutes, and if I still see ya working, I’m goin’ to drag you to your room myself.” Lucifer could tell he is serious just by his tone, but he just tsks, how stubborn was his pride? Mammon was going to do t whether he likes it or. He goes to the kitchen to put the cups away and saw Beel, raiding the fridge. Before leaving, he made a note to go grocery shopping with Satan tomorrow. For now, let’s just hope Lucifer actually goes to bed.

#obey me shall we date #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! beelzebub #protective mammon #overworking lucifer #sick #request #anon asks #rainiianswers

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delopsia · 1 year

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Flowers In November (2/4) Rhett x Reader

Word Count: 9,780 ♡‧₊˚ AO3 Cross-Post ♡⊹˚₊ Flowers In November Masterlist₊˚⊹♡ Warnings: Fem!Reader. Briefly mentioned abusive relationships (not involving reader), improper disposal of a horse's corpse, l-bombs, oral sex, physical and verbal altercations, blood, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of a firearm, lying to a police officer, multiple mentions of food and cooking.

Part 1 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 3

The first week is the worst.

You spend a lot of it on Rhett's couch. Trying and failing to run from the overwhelming heaviness that's settled deep into your muscles, reaching deep into your bones, seemingly filling them with cement. There's something so draining about realizations. It just doesn't...make sense.

Rhett doesn't complain about your dead weight around the house, even though he has every right to be annoyed with a stranger lazing about his home. A part of you suspects that he enjoys the company. He seems to get a lot of enjoyment out of laying on the couch opposite you, just talking about whatever is on your mind.

Your likes, your dislikes, hobbies. You learn that he used to eat fried eggs with his hashbrowns religiously. That his momma became so attached to their pigs that they're not allowed to eat real bacon anymore. You're pretty sure you'd be the same way if you befriended a livestock animal.

Old memories, both the sweet and the bitter ones. Recounting old tales of adventures and comparing your worlds, eager to spot the differences between the two. Little by little, it sets in how wonderfully similar and different this world is. Rhett's town is nearly identical to yours. Same layout and the same buildings. Different shop and street names.

It's not home, but it's a familiar face.

"You can't be serious," Rhett squawks, his empty beer can hitting the table, "you grew up on what street?"

You have to hold up a finger, asking him to wait as you chew this bite of cookie. Rhett's momma, who you now know as Cecelia, sent them over yesterday, and they're so chewy that you need a moment. "Cold River road."

"What the hell?" Shaking his head, "it was Warm Creek road for me."

It's hard to believe that this is your reality now. A tweaked version of your past one, whether that be for better or for worse. The mom-and-pop shop you planned to work at doesn't exist here, but in its place is this beautiful cafe that sells baked goods and coffee. Rhett takes you in there one day after a successful grocery run.

"You know," you find yourself saying as you tuck yourselves into a corner booth with your drinks, "I never pinned you as a french vanilla kind of guy."

Rhett rolls his eyes so dramatically that you hope they become lodges in the back of his head, "what were you expecting, plain black?"

Humming, you feign thought, as if you're putting everything you've got into this conversation, "I was thinking mocha."

He finds a way to bug you in return by tearing off a piece of your pastry when you're not looking. He's not sorry, and you can't find it in yourself to be mad because he smiles so big that his eyes crinkle and disappear with it. Happy little crescents.

With a pantry and fridge full of proper food and ingredients, you do the only thing you can do on a ranch like this. You cook.

Cecelia offers you cookbooks galore, regional cuisines, and desserts. Anything you can think of, she has. There's even a book on mixing drinks in there. It's not your ideal lifestyle, cooking all day, but it's either this or you break your back working with Rhett, and you know you don't have the energy to work like him.

Your first attempt is a disaster. Rhett's stove heats up much slower than you're used to, and the pasta winds up undercooked. The homemade sauce is a bit off because part of the instructions has been distorted by water.

"I don't see what the fuss is about," covering his mouth as he speaks, "it's still good." And your heart soars with a foreign fuzziness from that alone.

Strange how the cowboy you met by mere circumstance has slowly become your number-one supporter. He's always got something nice to say about your cooking; you could be serving him plain soup from a can, and he'd still smile and thank you for taking the time to make it.

There's a night when you wake up sobbing because you saw your mother in your dream, and you miss her so, so much. It's only been two weeks without her, and you don't think you'll ever see her again. Rhett's a heavy sleeper, but he was already awake, fetching a glass of water. You don't hear him coming or realize he's there until you feel the mattress dip.

He doesn't know why you're crying, but he offers you a smile anyway, "you look like you could use a shoulder to cry on."

You're unsure if he meant that literally, but he welcomes you into his warm arms all the same. You find refuge in the comforting silence that he wears, like his favorite cologne. It wraps around you in the same fashion that his arms do, clouding your senses until your head has gone quiet too.

It's late, he has to be up early to work, but he turns on the sitcom you've been watching together. Words go unspoken because no matter how many of them you say, they can't fix this. His shoulder is warm, and somewhere between the buzz of sound on the television and the way he fiddles with your hand, you doze off.

That morning, you wake up tucked into bed, the sheets snuggly wrapped around you like a hug. Your only indication that last night wasn't a dream is the progress you made in that show.

"I hope you don't have any plans for today," good lord, how long has he been standing in the kitchen?

...and how long has he been shirtless.

You can only open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, tearing your eyes off his sculpted chest, only to have them draw back onto him like magnets. Has he always had that tattoo of a bull and rider on his chest?

If Rhett notices your staring, he doesn't call you out. "We're going to get you a friend."

"Friend?" You parrot, dumbfounded. God, those biceps...

Even as you get dressed, in a mixture of his clothes and some he's bought for you, it's hard to figure out what he means by 'friend.' Is he introducing you to someone, or is he buying a puppy? You can see Isabela tacked up through the bedroom window, waiting patiently just outside the house.

Fortunately, by now, it's easy to swing yourself up behind Rhett. Huddling close and burying your face into his back has become second nature, especially as the temperatures drop each day. Every ride, you thank your lucky stars that he's a walking furnace that's always happy to warm you up.

"Where are we going?" You don't think he's ever taken you to this side of his land. All the way down to where all four corners of the respective lands meet.

"South pasture," Rhett supplies, but he gives you nothing more to go on regarding the whole 'friend' situation.

The South belongs to Perry and his family. Although, it looks more like a lake than anything else. Water covers most of the property, forcing Isabela to stick to the fence line, where it's mostly dry. Even then, you can still hear the squelch of the soggy ground under her hooves. It's a wonder how this lake stays contained within the borders of Perry's land.

You can't help but wonder where his house is located because you see nothing but water, water, and more water.

That is, until a gray horse emerges from the murky depths, shaking the water from her coat, closely followed by a second and a third. But you hadn't seen any head's poking out of the water...

As if he's already caught on to your stupor, Rhett laughs. A loud, hearty noise. "Y'all don't got kelpies where you come from?"

Come again?

"Like the fantasy creature?" Vaguely, you recall hearing something about them once or twice, but you can't say you're familiar with their lore.

That statement alone is enough of an answer to Rhett's question. The horses—kelpies follow loosely behind you. Like they're trying to join Isabela but are too shy to go through with it. One of them makes eye contact with you, her haunting brown eyes peering straight through your skin and deep into your soul. At least, until she opens her mouth, and...

"...did that horse just hiss at me?"

"Yes, ma'am, she did."

You're not too pleased to see that Perry is out and about, although you're not too sure why you were expecting him not to be on his property. His house isn't much different from his parents, a considerable fraction smaller but equally extravagant and over the top. A towering marble fountain stands in front of his home, and even the water flowing through it looks expensive.

"I really thought you were lyin' when you said she was still with you," Perry's talking before he's within earshot, forcing you to rely on context to fill in the blanks, "what woman chooses to stay in a tiny shack like that?"

He takes one look at Rhett and falls dead silent. You're not sure if you want to know what kind of expression achieved that.

"If you don't mind, I need to speak to Rhett alone for a second." The last time someone told you they needed to speak to Rhett alone, you received information you wish you hadn't.

And you sure hope these kelpies don't talk.

Isabela is content to be tied off on a fence post nearby, minding her own while you absently scratch her shoulder. You're not sure what to do. You'd feel wrong for wandering around and exploring, but it's not the ideal experience to simply stand here. What does Perry need with Rhett, anyhow?

There's movement off to your left.

"Did you follow us?" You can't believe you're asking a horse this as if she can respond. Or so you hope.

That same horse idles at the edge of her fence, her darkened eyes fixated on you as if you're the most interesting thing she has ever seen. Up close, you can see the dapples that cover her body, most of them hidden by how she's whitened out over the years. There's a considerable amount of feathering on her lower legs; she almost looks like she's wearing oversized socks.

Again, she hisses at you.

There are plenty of horses in the field with her, but she's the only one that's truly taken notice of you.

Slow, she follows the fence until she's close enough to hang her head over the wooden panels. Her eyes look more like a goat's, pupils wide and rectangular rather than round. You're looking, waiting on those eyelashes to flutter with a blink, but as time ticks by, she only blinks once.

As you go to offer her your hand, she lifts her head, tracking everywhere the appendage goes.

"Do me a favor," whispering in the wind, "don't bite my hand off, please?" The first time your hand touches her neck, she flinches, whistling much like a dolphin, but then she returns and lets you do it again.

Her eyes close, leaning into your touch. Not so scary after all.

"Why did I have a feeling it would be that one?" The sudden appearance of Perry's voice spooks you just as much as it does your newfound companion here; both of you stop what you're doing to look for the source of the sound.

Perry and Rhett are walking over, the bush behind them shaking unnaturally as if someone's just rustled it.

"Were you two hiding in that bush?" Your accusation is answered when Rhett's eyes hit the ground, suddenly too heavy to lift them.

"For business purposes," Perry tells you blandly, "it's best to be alone; it rules out the possibility of a kelpie trying to pick someone else."

Pick?

"They're a fussy species," filling in the blank, Rhett stands next to you, holding out his hand for the kelpie to sniff, "they pick their riders, rather than the other way around."

Her halter contains a tiny ID chip that displays her information when Rhett scans it with his phone. She's seven and a half, was born and raised on Perry's land, and was initially trained to assist lifeguards, capable of reaching places that human divers cannot. Her name?

"Nyx," both you and Rhett murmur, perfectly in sync.

She settles into the barn three days later. You don't notice her at first because, at a glance, she blends in perfectly with the snow. Her presence is only given away by Rhett's surprised yelp as she turns on him, knocking him down in the driveway.

"Are you really trying to put a bow on that horse?" You can't help but tease, snow crunching below your feet. Planted flat on his back, red ribbon laying haphazardly on his belly, shoulders shaking as he giggles. Your feet come to a stop right next to the halo of brown hair, looking at him from upside down.

"Merry Christmas?" He offers, shy. Fuck, he's cute.

Until now, you've completely forgotten about Christmas and the New Year and hadn't really wanted to remember it either. Yet as this cowboy laughs at you like he's the happiest man in the world, and as Nyx comes to stand by your side, it hits you that maybe this, whatever it is, isn't so bad.

The weather makes it hard to go out for any rides; there are some days when it becomes so cold that it's dangerous for Nyx and Isabela to be outside for too long. Those days are always the worst because the wind blows so hard that you can't see beyond the porch. It always worries you because Rhett is out in it, and even the most experienced men can be overtaken by the cold.

Then there's the night when your worst fears start coming true. Two weeks after New Year's, a winter storm slams Wyoming with high winds and endless snowfall. Howling wind whips around the house, screaming by, carrying so much snow that all you can see is a solid white sheet. It's been like this all afternoon, and Rhett's an hour later than usual.

You've found yourself pacing back and forth between all the windows, searching for a sign of him out there, but all you can see is the thick clumps of snow as they descend from the skies above.

Oh, where is he? Where is he?

Rhett's always been home around six, his latest so far has been six forty-five, and that was only because Isabela got a stubborn rock lodged in her hoof.

The clock in the bedroom reads seven-thirty. The numbers bright red, glaring you down.

You've got half the mind to clamber into some of his heavy winter clothes and look for him yourself, but what will you do if you get lost too? If he comes back and finds the house empty?

Oh, but what if he's hurt himself? He could be half frozen to death out there, and—

the room falls dark.

"Great," swearing under your breath, "just fucking great."

It's below zero outside, and now you have no power. Absolutely wonderful.

There's wood and old newspaper already stocked in the fireplace, just in case Rhett's feeling festive enough to get a fire going. Memory tells you there's a lighter in the kitchen junk drawer, hidden in a mix of sticky notes, pens, and pencils. It's hard to see what you're doing, fumbling around blindly in the drawer until your fingers find the familiar shape of the lighter.

You've watched Rhett enough times to know how he usually gets these started, and you're pleased to find that you can get the fireplace going without burning the house down. Albeit, your fingers are now a twinge burnt.

Impossibly, the wind seems to be picking up more speed, beating against the house so hard that the front door is starting to shake, the knob rattling. Or, at first, you think it's the wind, but the longer it goes on, the more you start to wonder...

"Rhett?" You call out, turning toward the offending noise, "that you?"

No response, but that knob just keeps making noise.

A part of you is afraid to open it; the other half is worried about what may happen if you don't. The metal feels like ice in your hand, almost burning as you turn it and pull the door open.

That wasn't the wind.

"God, Rhett, where the hell have you been?" Hissing at the wind that rattles into the house, you step to the side, letting him stumble into the house.

His shoulders carry a mountain of snow on them; tiny icicles decorate his long lashes. You don't know where his gloves have gone, but his hands have gone white, struggling to get ahold of his jacket zipper. He's making sounds like he's trying to speak, but nothing is coming out.

"I've got you," taking hold of the zipper, you pull it down, helping him squirm out of his snow-soaked coat. It's dripping water all over the freshly cleaned floor, and the best place for it would be the washer, but you toss it onto the counter. That's not what needs to be focused on right now.

"Couldn't," swallowing thickly, "door."

How long was he out there?

Fortunately, he's still there enough to know that he should go and sit in front of the fire while you wrangle some blankets out of the closet. But even the four blankets don't help with his shivering, seemingly just as cold as before.

"How long..." speaking like his tongue has become hard to move, "has the power been out?"

"Ten minutes?" But it feels like it's been out for a decade; most of the heat has faded. It's starting to nip at you, icy fingers reaching out from the dark and running over your exposed skin.

Maybe that's how you find yourself sitting next to him, back propped against the couch, as you open your arms, beckoning him to come into them. Those deep blue eyes rake up and down your frame once, twice, and just that is enough to fill your belly with snowflakes.

Slow, Rhett scoots over, cautious as he settles against you. Head resting on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, burying himself into you. He feels like a block of ice, and you're pretty sure he counts as one at this point.

The weight against you is bizarrely familiar, comfortable. Not too heavy, but enough to remind you that he's there, his head tucked under your chin. Those arms wrap around you like the perfect hug, impossibly strong, even now.

"Truck got stuck in the snow," he doesn't need to explain himself to you, and yet he chooses to anyhow, "couldn't get it out, so I had to walk back."

Squeezing him tighter, "what happened to your gloves?"

"They wound up gettin' wet, took 'em off thinkin' I'd be better off," weak, he laughs against your chest, hot breath dancing across your skin, "can't believe I couldn't open the damn door."

"I thought you were the wind at first," in hindsight, you should have realized it was him.

It's easy for time to get away from you, lost in the wonderous feeling of having him snuggled up into you. Such a big cowboy that fits into your arms like he was made to be in them, and you were made to hold him. He's like a teddy bear, hair soft as you rest your cheek against his head.

"You fallin' asleep?" He asks lowly.

Prying your eyes back open, "maybe."

"Good," yawning, he nuzzles his cheek against your collarbone, "because I think I am too."

Sometime later, the power kicks back on. Lighting the house in blinding shades of white as the heating and air unit roars to life outside. You don't know why, but as you untangle from each other, you find yourself wishing it hadn't come back on at all.

You can't shake it from your head, the sweetness of Rhett's weight against you, how his hair felt beneath your cheek. Like glue, the sensations have become stuck to you, refusing to let you forget about them. It keeps you up half the night; you're awake when Rhett heads out to work and can hear Nyx fussing in the barn when he enters. Household alarm system, that one.

As you start to doze, someone knocks on the front door. The person's voice is too muffled for you to understand what she said, but it's hard to miss the phrase, 'police department.'

What in the world?

Groggy, you drag yourself out of bed, stumbling over your own two feet. Did she have to pick now, of all times? Seven-thirty is too early for police officers to be doing surprise visits.

"Hi," she grins, all too cheerful, "is Rhett Abbott here, by chance?"

Yawning, you lean against the door frame, "you just missed him," you swear you've seen this woman before, "he left about an hour ago."

She doesn't seem surprised, just nodding and writing something down on her phone. Officer Judy Hawk.

Strange. You think her name was Joy in your world.

There's no time to focus on that, though, because soon she lists off a date. You know it's passed, but you don't remember what day of the week it landed. "Perry Abbott's license plate was found in a pasture down the road, on the same night a multi-million dollar racehorse went missing," your mind jumps back to what Rhett was burying, "do you know if Rhett was home that night?"

Heart climbing high into your throat, you glance toward the barn. Shit, shit, shit, do you lie? What if she already knows the truth? What if—

"Yeah," forcing a smile, "he was here all night, like always."

Judy looks skeptical, but she offers no counter-argument and doesn't press for why you're here or how you're connected to Rhett. Just smiles.

"That's about all I needed," there's that artificial friendliness again, draped over her face like a mask, "I'll find another time to come talk to Rhett. Thank you, Mrs. Abbott."

...huh?

Does she think...? That you...and Rhett...?

Ugh. No, you don't want to think about that.

It's the one thing you conveniently leave out of your retelling of the visit when Rhett inevitably stumbles in that evening. You try to be as casual as you can about it, nonchalantly letting it slip that they found Perry's plate while you take the green beans off the burner.

It's hard to tell what emotion flickers across his face. It's there and gone before you can blink, and then it's back to the usual Rhett. Too tired to be bothered by things like these.

You really hope you didn't fuck up by lying to that officer.

A freakish heatwave washes over the state during early February.

At first, you don't know what to think when you wake up and find that most of the snow has melted overnight. The weatherman tells you it's in the mid-60s, and the sun kisses you when you step out. Walking outside is like walking into a daydream, the air just perfect enough that it's not too hot or too cold.

From the fence line, Nyx hisses, adamant that she receives your attention right here and now. Spoiled.

"Hold on, hold on," rolling your eyes over her antics, "you big snake."

She doesn't understand you, but she whistles like she does. Who would have ever thought kelpies couldn't make normal horse sounds? Perry says they make plenty of different noises, but you've only seen Nyx whistle and hiss.

Again, she flicks her head back and hisses, goat-like eyes fixated upon something behind you.

"How long have you been standing there?" Honestly, you shouldn't be surprised that it's Rhett who is the cause of Nyx's offense.

His gaze flickers down, then back up, "ever since you walked out the house in nothin' but my old rodeo shirt."

...oh no.

"I uh..." now that he's said it, you're becoming hyper-aware of how bare your legs feel, "I didn't exactly plan to go outside."

Your inability to explain is rewarded with a hearty chuckle, "I can see that." As he begins to come closer, you start to flounder. "Why don't you go get dressed?" Effortlessly relieving you of any further explanation, "we got somethin' we need to do."

That's all the encouragement you need. Leaving the conversation to rot, you take off for the house, eager to retain what little of your dignity you have. God, did you really just walk out of the house in nothing but his shirt? Why does he always slip by your radar until it's too late?

Most of your clothes are still bouncing about the dryer; it's hard to accumulate them when you don't have money. Most of them come from Cecelia's monthly closet cleanouts. You have clothes, but it feels like you've got nothing to wear.

Scratchy blouses, too-warm sweaters, too-thin tees, nothing comfortable enough for what Rhett's likely to put you up to. It seems you're doomed to putting on your only pair of jeans and wearing his rodeo shirt for the rest of the day. At least it's soft.

Nyx is missing from the pasture when you step back outside. Although to find her, all you need to do is follow the sound of her whistling.

"What are we doing?" What could possibly require Rhett to tack up Nyx?

"Goin' for a ride," his voice barely audible over Nyx and her dolphin sounds, "weather's too nice to waste the day away." As if she agrees, Nyx whistles again. It's hard to tell if she's excited or pissed beyond belief.

You get your answer when you climb into her saddle, and she tries walking out of the barn before you're ready. This isn't the first time you've ridden her, but it's the first time she's been so eager to get the show on the road.

"The longer you take, the angrier the horse gets," you find yourself saying, staring at the feed room that Rhett's disappeared into.

He pokes his head out, "you and your dolphin need to learn patience."

Not one familiar with the concept, your dolphin turns and heads for the barn exit, and for once, you allow her to do what she pleases. Isabela has hardly moved from where Rhett left her by the house, but as soon as Nyx passes by, she begins to follow on your flank.

The group of you make it about four circles around the house before Rhett finally stumbles out of the barn. "How the hell did you get her to move?" Genuine shock ripples through his tone as he approaches your little walking party.

"Walked past her," at least you will never have to worry about Nyx doing the same thing, all things considered. On some days, it's a miracle that she even lets a stranger so much as perceive her.

Now that she's moving, Isabela doesn't stop for Rhett to get on and completely bypasses him when he tries stepping in front of her. Watching him chase her down and scramble up is quite an amusing sight to behold.

"So where are we going?" Asking as you follow his lead, heading toward the gate that sits along the fence line.

His head tilts west toward his parent's house, "you'll see when we get there."

As he'd indicated, you head west at a leisurely pace, taking all the time in the world. There's no reason to rush. You've gone this direction so many times, huddled up to Rhett's back as his felt cowboy hat bumps against the top of your head, that it feels foreign not to be there.

"What?" Rhett grins; he's caught you staring.

"I've gotten so used to cuddling up on the back of your horse that riding alone feels strange," the confession comes easily, slipping from your throat like a breath of air.

"Oh really?" His eyes squint in that telltale way; you're never going to hear the end of this. "You missin' cuddlin' with me?"

There are two ways you can address this. Deny it to no end, or confirm it.

"Maybe I do."

In the blink of an eye, his grin falters, eyelashes fluttering as he turns his attention to Isabela's pristine mane, "yeah?"

You don't understand why your heart flutters at that.

The dark, dead circle still resides in the ground, a landmark you always pass over here. It's worsened since the first time you laid eyes on it, the grass jet black, land sunken in. You've quit walking into it and hoping it will take you back.

Beyond the driveway that leads up to his parent's home lies a tiny, barely there trail. Washed out and overgrown, only made visible by the sand once poured to mark its path.

"Perry and I used to ride out here every Sunday while our folks went to church," removing his hat, Rhett tips his head back, letting the slight breeze rustle through his hair. It's gotten so much longer since the first time you met.

"What made you stop?" He's never been bothered by your probing for more information, but you're still hesitant to ask.

Rhett's quiet. Body swaying with Isabela's motions. The muscles in his jaw flex and relax as he sucks on his tongue, "he met Rebecca," he says after a minute, "and all of a sudden, he was too busy to be my brother anymore."

Stiffness returns to his frame, wiring his broad shoulders tight, "I hated every second of their relationship."

Ducking under a low-hanging branch, narrowly avoiding it, "what made you hate it so much?"

"Jealous," he spits it out so quickly that you hear it before you realize you've finished speaking. One of his big hands rises to scratch his neck, "or lonely, I guess. God, I don't know why I'm even bringing this up."

"You're allowed to talk about it if you want to," humming, you reach out, squeezing his knee, "I'm listening."

Up ahead is a slight clearing, where the land abruptly flattens itself out, and the trees have visibly been cut down. There's an old wooden bench facing the valley, rotting, overtaken by the elements. You see precisely why they put it here; the view is breathtaking.

You can see everything. The houses, the evident, shaky divide between the four properties. It looks so empty from up here.

"I can't tell you how many nights I spent up here, drinking on that bench," forcing a laugh, "God, I was the loneliest son 'f a bitch in the state."Was.

Nyx whistles, forcing you to wait until she's done giving you her two cents. "What changed?"

You don't think you've ever seen his eyes soften like that. Like someone's lit a match and melted away every drop of the icy stiffness that lives in them. With it taking away the fake smile he's been donning all afternoon.

And then you hear it, the faintest shadow of a voice you've ever heard, "you."

Oh.

In your mouth, your tongue fills with lead, but as it turns out, you don't have to speak because Rhett already is. "I've met a lot of people in my life, but you're the first person that's ever made me feel..." shaking his head, he looks away, focusing back on Isabela's mane, "like I'm not some good for nothing cowboy that's only meant to work and do favors."

You don't know what to say. For Rhett, though, your smile is enough of a reply because it makes him smile too. That's all you could really ask for.

There's only so much time you can spend looking out at the valley before it becomes boring, and soon, you're heading further up the trail, side by side. Quiet, but not uncomfortably so. That's the beauty of Rhett; whether he knows it or not, he's taught you that not all silence is bad. That it can be just as comforting as words.

"I have a question," you hate to break the silence, but it's starting to ebb at the back of your mind.

He puts his hat back on his head. "Shoot."

Alright. Here goes nothing. "What happened to Rebecca?" A part of you is expecting a cold, uncomfortable reaction, but you never receive it.

"She went missin' a year ago, 'bout nine months before you arrived," his voice airy, "just up and left him and their daughter."

You catch his mouth opening and closing a couple of times like there's something more that he wants to say. He never voices it.

At the very end of the trail lies an even more extensive clearing than before. The remnants of a gazebo lie dead in the middle, unfinished and rotting, much like the old bench. An old pile of lumber sits next to it; weeds have long since overtaken it, rendering it unusable.

How much time did they spend up here?

"I know this place ain't much," you don't know when he got so close to you, "but I hope it didn't bore you to death."

"'m not bored," tilting your head to meet his gaze as you speak, "this was nice."

"Yeah?" There's that grin you were missing. "Would you want to do this again?"

Nodding only makes his smile grow wider, taking up his entire face.

And somewhere in your head, you catch yourself wishing to see that smile for the rest of your life.

That next ride takes forever to come. The thing about Wyoming weather is that it rules the land with an iron, unpredictable fist. Just as quickly as the snow melted, it comes back. Once again, covering the ranch in a pristine, glittering white blanket. So returns to the routine of it being too cold to do much, of watching movies until you're sick of looking at the screen. Those nights when you turn on a film to have some background noise while you talk.

Breakfast is a rare occasion in this household.

You've got the ingredients, but it's hard to motivate yourself to cook when it's just you. Rhett's always gone or halfway out the door when you get up. It's hard to justify a big meal without him and his oversized appetite.

But today, you really, really miss the joys of breakfast and the foods associated with it. Hashbrowns, biscuits, and gravy. Oh, and the wonderfully crafted bacon that is exclusive to this world of Rhett's, completely vegan but tasting identical to the real deal. You still don't believe that it's real.

It takes all of ten minutes of craving it for you to come up with a plan. So what's stopping you from bringing the man breakfast?

As you busy about the kitchen, dancing from skillet to skillet, you struggle to fry up some kind of explanation. Something that amounts to more than just 'I brought you breakfast because I'm hungry and felt like feeding you too.' What will you put it all in? What if he doesn't want it?

Shit, you just burned the hashbrowns.

Whoever told you that it's easier to think on a full stomach was a liar because your meal doesn't help. Drawing blank after blank, failing to devise a single excuse for this. The best thing to come to mind is the memory that plastic containers exist. Perfect for carrying breakfast to a blue-eyed cowboy.

And did you fry an egg because you remember him offhandedly mentioning that he likes them with his hashbrowns? Yes. Yes, you did.

Rhett should be around the back of the barn right now. He usually spends most of his morning dealing with non-cattle-related matters, like cleaning the stalls and restocking various things he used up the day prior.

"Hey, Cowboy," your voice echoes through the barn as you call out for him, "you in here?"

On the other side of the building, you receive the gruffest 'yeah' you've ever heard. It hardly even sounds like Rhett; if it weren't for his head poking around the corner, you might have mistaken him for someone else entirely.

"Somethin' wrong?" Before you can even get a word out, he's dropping everything he was just doing.

Meekly, you lift the plastic container for him to see, the contents warm and steaming up the inside of the material, "I brought you something."

That's got his attention.

Like a puppy, he cocks his head to the side, struggling to deduce what you've brought him. His hands shake as he takes the container from you, large fingers working their way between the lid and prying it upward.

Those blue eyes start to shimmer, wide, round, "you brought me breakfast?" Barely audible, not even a whisper. It makes your knees feel weak.

"I did," you feel like you should say more. Give him a reason, make up a fake holiday, something, anything to justify this. He doesn't need one. Accepting your random act of kindness without pressing you for meaningless reasons.

Oh, that smile...

"Thank you," and there's not a damn thing in this world that can take the sweetness from his tone, "I don't...nobody's ever...done anything like this for me before."

It's difficult to wrap your head around. Nobody? Not his momma, his brother, a girlfriend?

Together, you sit on buckets in the tack room, basking in the perfect, comfortable silence occasionally broken by Nyx whistling in her stall. You don't know how you feel, knowing you're the first to do something as simple as this. Pride swells in your chest every time he takes a bite, smile growing a little bigger.

But at the same time, you've found yourself feeling bitter. This is Rhett. The sweet cowboy who took you, a total stranger, into his home and never once asked a thing from you in return. The guy who works overtime takes care of Perry's share of chores. Leaves before sunrise and is lucky to return before sunset.

And not one person has...done this.

A routine blossoms. Once or twice a week, you make breakfast, hunt Rhett down, and eat it with him. Sometimes that means sitting out in the elements when you could be cozied up inside; sometimes, it includes eating and walking.

There's one occasion where he's fixing a fence, hands too busy with something that he can't stop until he's finished. You still haven't forgotten how he giggled when you held the fork out for him, determined to get him to eat before it got cold.

"Can I have a piece of bacon?" He asks, grunting as he tightens the barbed wire, "or something other than..."

Unfortunately for him, you've already shoveled more hashbrowns onto his fork; he accepts it regardless. Not like he has much choice.

"Quit giving me nothing but hashbrowns, woman!" Laughing around his mouthful of food, it's a miracle he doesn't choke.

"Fussy."

"Very much so—" he falls silent. You've done it again.

Your warning sign should have been how quickly he snatched that bite. It only occurs to you that he's finished that portion of the fence when he rushes toward you like a bull. By the time you turn and run, it's too late.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, dragging you into an equally muscular chest, squeezing you tight, "you ain't gettin' away that easy, missy!"

It's hard to tell who fell first, but you wind up on the grass in some way or another. Laying on your backs, sharing a piece of bacon as you stare up at the morning sky, still painted in enchanted orange, red, and purple hues.

"D'ya want the last piece?" The edge of it appears in your peripheral, tempting.

Reaching up, you tear a piece off right down the middle, "we'll split it."

It would have been simpler for each of you to have your own piece because you've split the last two parts. But in that case, it wouldn't have been as special.

Rolling over onto his stomach, Rhett looks down at you, cheek propped in his hand, "I'll try to be home earlier tonight."

"Can't wait to see that movie, huh?" On its own accord, your hand rises, desperate to push those curled locks out of his face. By the time you realize it, Rhett's already caught on; too late to back out now.

"Nope," eyes fluttering shut as you run your fingers through his hair, tucking the offending strands behind his ear. It's so inexplicably soft like it's been washed and cared for by Gods. You can't stop yourself from playing with it. "You're fixin' to put me to sleep if you keep that up."

Right now, the concept of falling asleep doesn't sound so bad.

Alas, duty calls. Perry's riding up, and the last thing either of you wants to hear is him bitching about Rhett being lazy. So, with your empty container and a soft 'thank you' from Rhett, you head back to the house.

By early, Rhett usually means around five thirty, barely much earlier than his usual time. That time comes and goes, and you find no sign of him. Nyx starts to whistle in that telltale way she always does when Rhett passes, but there's no sign of him.

It feels like the snowstorm incident all over again. Six comes and passes. Six thirty. Six forty-five. Seven.

No, no, something is wrong. You don't know what is telling you that, but you know it. You know it the same way you know up from down, from how bitter sourness churns in your belly, your hands becoming cold and tingly. This isn't like Rhett.

All you have is a flashlight and a pocket knife that he keeps in the junk drawer, but you leave the house feeling like you've got an army at your disposal. Rhett's not in the barn, but Isabela is munching on hay that's been put out for them in the pasture. That's usually the last thing he does before he comes in for the night. Feed the horses.

Nyx paces along the fence, hissing for your attention. Not right now. She can have her pets later.

"Rhett?" Calling out for him brings you nothing. Again, Nyx hisses.

There's no sign of him around the house; his truck hasn't budged. The fence isn't locked, though. The chain dangles loosely around the meet of the bars, the lock open and hanging on to the end. That's so...strange.

What's even stranger is how your horse keeps bobbing her head up and down, hissing, whistling, as if she's gone mad. Not once does she quit moving back and forth along the fence.

"Nyx?"

Then you hear it. The distant roar of a truck. Shakes the ground with its fury as it rushes closer and closer. Someone is driving through the pasture.

Nyx and Isabela scatter, darting far to the opposite corner of the enclosure, and that's when you catch it. The glint of light bounces off the top of the truck as it races toward the gate. Directly where you're standing. Its headlights are off, but you already know the vehicle doesn't belong to anyone in the Abbott family.

Your feet are moving before you can register it, diving behind Rhett's truck.

The gate bursts open with an ear-shattering crack, hinges squealing. Rhett's truck jolts, struck by the unknown vehicle as it turns too sharply. Dirt and rock fly through the air, kicked up by ridiculously massive tires. Just as quickly as it had arrived, it tears down the driveway, leaving a plume of smoke in its wake.

This is too much of a coincidence for it not to be connected.

You don't know who that was. You don't care that they hit Rhett's truck. You don't care about the stupid fucking fence. You don't remember coming out from behind your hiding place when you started running.

Heart hammering, you race through the field, using the tire tracks as your guide. Nyx flies along after you, whistling as she sidles up by your left, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off her.

Whistling again, she parts off to your right, heading straight for the back of the property. The tracks are your best marker, but it hits you as she looks back at you. Maybe she knows.

So you follow.

Your lungs burn. Feet hammering the ground. Desperate to keep Nyx in your sight. The flashlight clicks in your hand. Flickers to life. Burns out in the blink of an eye. Swearing, you drop it. Like a ghost, Nyx tears through the night. Her bright coat is the only thing you can see. She's whistling. Clacking her teeth.

She stops. Dead in her tracks. You do too.

Just ahead is a silhouette. Kneeling. Impossible to see at first.

"Rhett?"

"Are you okay?" That's his voice. That's his voice, but it doesn't sound like him. Deep. Strained.

"Of course, I'm fine," kneeling by his frame, "I'm not the one who's..."

All you can see is crimson. Dripping down his scalp. From the tip of his left ear. His hair is a wreck. Body trembling so hard that you can hear his teeth chatter.

"Don't—" but his protests can't stop you. His jaw shakes in your hand as you curl your fingers around it, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

"Rhett," you don't...what? "What did they do to you?"

His split, bloody bottom lip quivers, "I'm okay." Voice-breaking in the middle, unable to handle those two little words.

There isn't an inch of him that isn't bruised. Blood pours from his hands and nose, a massive cut rippling down the corner of his left eye; it's barely open. You don't know if that's dirt or newly formed bruises peeking out from his shredded flannel.

"You don't look okay," your words only make him shake a little harder. His eyes glisten.

There is only one thing you can think of doing. You open your arms. He falls into them. Broad shoulders quivering as he buries his face into your neck, wetting it with little drops of fire.

"Please don't let go of me." You don't. You can't.

Rhett Abbott is by no means a small man. He's massive. In personality, in his broad shoulders, in his big blue eyes, and in his scarred, calloused hands. A wolf in every sense of the term, fierce, borderline feral on most days.

But that's not him right now.

You don't know what they've done to him, but it's shrunken him into nothing but a mouse. Flinching when you rub your fingers at the nape of his neck, his breath hitching with an unbridled fear you've never known him to bear. You hardly recognize the pained whimpers that slip from him.

Your back aches. Knees are bruising from being dug into the rocky ground, but you can't bring yourself to budge even an inch. It's a wonder that his arms still bear the strength to hold onto you, looping tight around your waist, anchoring you down.

"I've got you," murmuring into the side of his head, "I've got you." On your left, Nyx lowers her head, sniffing, nuzzling the back of Rhett's neck. It scares him, jumping away from her with a pained, surprised gasp.

That's enough to remind him of where you are, out in the dark, the temperature gradually dropping. He doesn't speak, but you know what he's trying to do when his legs begin fumbling beneath him, wobbly like a newborn foal. Heavily minding his right leg as you help him up.

"Shit," he hisses, eyes bolting shut, "y'might...have to get the truck."

The truck might not be starting anytime soon.

Your eyes land on Nyx. She looks at you, the timing almost comedic. You're both sharing the same idea.

"There ain't no way she's fixin' to let me up there," but Rhett's protest goes unheard.

A part of you wonders if it's her lineage. Her original purpose. To rescue individuals from the unpredictable, violent ocean. Because she's wholly put away her avid dislike for Rhett. Perfectly calm as you help him up onto her back, not a single pinned ear, not a sound.

You're unsure if the look in Rhett's eyes comes from the situation or Nyx's behavior.

He's quick to wrap himself around you once you've settled before him. His breath is hot on your shoulder as he buries his nose into it, hugging tightly, but not enough to hurt. As Nyx takes you back to the house, you begin to notice the dark spots on your shirt; blood.

"Was them Tillerson guys," he chokes out, lifting his head to avoid being muffled by your shirt. Tillerson. That sounds...familiar. "They think I'm the one that killed the goddamn horse."

You completely forgot about that. The damn horse that Perry hit and Rhett had to hide bits and pieces around the place. You're not sure where he hid the rest of its legs; the last time you saw them, it was right after—

no. No, absolutely not.

"So they jumped you on your own property?" There's a pitchiness to your voice as you try to clear an image from your head.

He starts to reply, but he cuts himself off. "Did they drive through my fuckin' gate?"

Yeah, and they hit your truck too.

"That they did," confirming, conveniently leaving out the vehicle. He's got enough to worry about right now.

Isabela has returned to munching on the hay Rhett put out for her, three heads buried deep into it, not a concern in the world. The very definition of unbothered.

"Glad to see the household menace cares and not my beloved companion," chuckling weakly at the sight of her, Rhett leans back down to rest his head against you.

The gate is mangled beyond belief, warped from the truck's grill that blasted through it, but it's still functional. You find the lock and chain in the driveway; Rhett's able to get it locked, as it should be. Tonight is one of those nights where it's warm enough for Isabela and Nyx to stay outside, free roaming their stomping grounds until morning.

But then Rhett steps into the porch light, and your face drops.

He looks horrible. Left eye bruised and swollen, blood dried all along his face, and caked in his hair. God, there are so many bruises around his neck; every one of his knuckles has split wide open, some still dripping with liquid red.

"I'm okay," that's a lie, and you both know it.

His muscles don't carry enough strength to take his shirt off; you have to step into the bathroom and help him because he can't get it off himself. The shower runs, and it runs, for what feels like an eternity. Until it stops.

"You alive in there?" Knocking on the bathroom door after some time has passed.

"...yeah," eventually comes your answer, "I don't...I'm having trouble...uh."

The door opens, and it immediately hits you. Rhett can't lift his arms to wash his hair; it's wet, dripping pale red onto the bathroom floor, but it's visibly matted together.

"Do you want some help?" Still taking it all in, failing to avoid the scattering of red along his ribcage, where he's been kicked repeatedly.

"I do, but..." looking between you and the shower, his eyes fluttering, "...don't know that would work without...you know."

Never in your wildest dreams have you considered making Rhett sit in the bathtub in nothing but his boxer shorts, but here you are. His head is tilted back as far as he can comfortably manage, eyes closed as you rinse his hair with the handheld shower head. The blood is stubborn. Whenever you think you've got it all, you find another patch.

"'M sorry you have to do this," so faint that you almost miss it entirely.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," you don't mean to come off as snappy as you do, the tension in your shoulders seemingly leaking out of your tone, "none of this is your fault."

As you reach to turn the water off, those eyes flicker open; deep blue, so dark that you almost mistake them for brown. Not saying anything; simply watching. You could use his three-in-one shampoo, tucked in the corner in a navy bottle, but you reach for yours instead.

"Fixin' to make me smell like strawberry and vanilla, I see," weakly, he chuckles at his own words, "plannin' to eat me after this?"

The image of him between your legs flickers through your mind like a pesky ex, nearly making you drop the shampoo on his head. You haven't thought about that since the day it happened; why is it bubbling up now?

"Maybe I am," you tease, "what're you gonna do about it?"

Whatever retort he's boiling up is lost when you run your fingers through his hair. Unable to hide the slight unfocusing of his eyes as they flutter shut. A sucker for having his hair played with.

The soap sinking into his unhealed wounds has got to sting, but you're unsure if he so much as notices. Despite the situation, a tiny, kitten-like smile works across his lips. It's a wonder he doesn't begin purring, so absolutely content as you lather his hair. Even as you turn the water back on, it doesn't fade.

You can never take some things from a man, no matter how hard you try. That smile is one of those things.

That goddamn smile. The one that never fails to make your gut feel like it's been filled with butterflies, their delicate wings tickling away at you. It's difficult to imagine what life would be like without...

shit.

"Y'alright?" Those eyes have long since reopened, fixated solely on you.

Nodding, "yeah," having to force your voice to cooperate, "just thinking, is all."

You only need to step out long enough for him to dry off and wriggle into some clothes. Maybe takes him a minute at max, but it feels like an eternity on the other side of that door. Now that it's clicked, you can't get it to unclick. Everything makes sense; it all makes perfect sense, and you don't know what to make of it.

The door squeaks back open, "g'nna need your help one more time, little lady."

Right. You still need to brush his hair out.

It's not complicated; most of the tangles came out while you were washing it, but the brush moves so slowly that it might not be moving at all. It's hard to move with all these thoughts clouding your senses. This man that took a liking to you for no good reason. A mere stranger a year ago is now the only thing that brings a smile to your face on most days.

This cowboy who lassoed you upon your first meeting, and while he let go of you physically, he's never let go of your heart. Not even once.

Fuck.

You might have feelings for this man.

But now isn't the time to sift through those feelings because fresh blood stains the comb's bristles. Coming from the back of his head, a deep split of the muscle running so deep that it hurts you to look at.

Wordless, Rhett reaches into the cabinet, producing a small tube of superglue. On a typical day, you think you'd protest and insist that he see a doctor instead, but you don't have it in you. Looking in the reflection of the mirror is enough. Bruised, swollen eyes barely open, jaw slack with what can only be described as exhaustion.

He's had enough for one day.

The whine that leaves him when the glue touches him is brutal to stomach. Even worse, you can do nothing about it; you've no choice but to listen to his pained whimpers as you pinch the wound shut. It has to be done, whether you like it or not.

"Do you still want to watch that movie?" Rubbing his shoulders when you're done, "I can put that pizza in the oven."

It takes him a little bit to process what you've said, but ultimately, he nods, "yeah."

What you hate the most is that while Rhett's physical wounds immediately begin to heal, the others don't. Need more time. Require a bit more attention.

In the kitchen, he jumps when he feels you behind him, swearing under his breath, eyes big as saucers. A far cry from the Rhett, who could never be surprised by your appearance, always seeming to know you're there. Every little sound has him glancing between you and the door; refuses to sit in the seat that places his back to it.

While lying in bed, you can hear him fumbling on the couch. At some point, he gets up to put a chair under the doorknob as if he's afraid someone will burst through at any moment. It takes you all of two minutes to make your next decision.

"'m sorry I'm keepin' you up," he murmurs, half-lidded gaze following you and your bundle of blankets, "what're you doin'?"

"Figured you could use a buddy for the night," tossing your pillow onto the couch, you settle in. It's a wonder how the man sleeps on these all the time; they're not the most comfortable.

The corner of his lip quirks up, following your movements, until you're facing him, your eyes poking out of the blankets. "Thank you."

It's not contained to just that night, though.

He spooks at little things. When you bring him breakfast. When one of the horses makes a noise in their pasture. Perry flies up the driveway once; Rhett locks the door and stands in the laundry room until he realizes who it is. All that, just to find out that their parents are throwing a birthday party for Perry's daughter.

Always looking around, scanning the treeline and driveway like they'll be there waiting for him. He gives you a cell phone a week after the incident.

"Just in case," he tells you, so, so desperate to have peace of mind. To know that you're safe and have a way to reach him. It's the same color as the phone that lies dead in the bedside drawer.

It's hard to tell if he's getting through it all by himself or if you've merely figured out how to avoid his triggers. Making sure he's seen you before stepping behind him, always keeping a hand on him when you're back there, so he knows where you are. Calling out for him on your breakfast runs.

There's something enchanting about how he grins at you on those mornings, opening his arms up and welcoming you with a hug. Selfishly, you accept them every time, eager to feel those muscles around you, to squish your cheek into his broad chest.

"I like to have never found ya," and you know you've got it bad when you're starting to talk like the bastard. He's over on Perry's property, fixing a broken fence.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, quiet, "Perry called this mornin', said he needed me to do some repairs."

Where is his hand going...

"You're thinkin' 'bout somethin'," scruffy fingers take hold of your chin, tingles shooting down your spine as he brings your gaze to meet his. "Spit it out."

Here goes nothing. "Why do you help so much?"

His head cocks to the side, "whatcha mean?"

"I mean, you're always helping with Perry's chores," gesturing toward the barely standing fence, "when you already have a ranch to run on your own."

That seems to be what he was expecting you to ask because his face lacks any hint of surprise. "After Rebecca disappeared, I promised to help him with anything he needs," his hand travels back, fingertips rubbing the meet of your jaw. "Got somethin' on your skin."

Whatever is on you must be stubborn because he licks the pad of his thumb, rubbing wide circles until it's gone. Your knees might buckle. Up close, it's easy to see how they've healed; bright pink patches of skin decorate his knuckles, scarring that sticks out like a sore thumb. There are still a few scabs on his left hand; they would have healed by now if they didn't keep opening back up while he works.

"So you've become his personal maintenance man because of a promise?" Last you checked, Perry didn't go offering his help when his own actions caused Rhett to be hurt.

"I'm a man of my word," sucking in a deep breath, Rhett yawns, "no matter how much I may regret it."

Part 1 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 3

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