#I remember all of the 'who took the shot' discussions
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MOUTHWASHING X READER ONESHOTS.
Curly x GN Reader
Part 1?
“Come here, sunshine... Let me love you...”
(This is mostly just to polish up my one-shot/fanfic writing skills, don't expect that this will be continued sorry)
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02:36. 02:36 in the goddamn morning on the ship and Curly was still up. Having ‘lost track of time’ while sitting in the cockpit and doing his work. Always that ¨lost track of time’ excuse whenever he was confronted by the others. Although the others would confront him about it he didn’t care much, only when you started to scold him about it. 
It was something in the way that you managed to get to him whenever giving him a scolding. He felt like a kid each time. But in an oddly good way.
“God forbid if they knew…” Curly thought to himself, knowing as to why he would feel like a child to your scoldings. He was smitten. So utterly in love it was disgusting. How could Curly let himself fall so hard for someone like them? 
It was lonely on the freighter after all. The only ones he could have any company with were his crew, only seeing them as friends. But you? Oh god… Why did Curly get all fuzzy at the thought of you even being nearby?
Knock knock!
Snapping out of his train of thought, Curly turned around in his seat, looking at the door as it hissed open quietly. Confused, wondering who in the hell it could be.
“Cap?” A voice called out quietly yet sternly. Oh. It’s you. 
Shit.
“Oh, uh… hey..” He replied back with a sheepish sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at you. Forcing an apologetic smile.
“Nevermind, get to bed.” You sighed, shaking your head dismissively while rubbing your eyes. “C’mon. Don’t need you to pass out.” 
Curly sighed, nodding his head. He knew it wasn’t any idea to protest. “Alright, just let me finish with this paper and I’ll come.” He responded quietly.
Quickly finishing up with the report, putting the papers and his pen away he eventually got up from his seat and walked over to the door where you stood. “Sorry, I-”
“-Lost track of time. Again?” You cut him off, raising a brow to look at the blonde captain in front of you. “Yeah... Right.” Curly grumbled in a sigh. “Again..” He echoed in a sheepish tone, unable to stop the guilty smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry.”
You just sighed, shaking your head dismissively one last time. “How about we just get out of here and get back to sleep while we still can, hm?” Curly seemed to perk up at that, gratitude taking over the sheepishness on his smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
~¤~
The quiet, soft sounds of the two walking down the halls of the ship. Quiet words leaving them in their discussion about something random, unrelated to any of their work on the ship. 
Curly missed those soft, gentle and quiet moments back at home. Not like he could really remember them anymore, but he felt nostalgic during these rare moments of the quiet late night conversations. 
The two made it out to the lounge, took a seat on the couch and looked at the late night- early morning time window screen. Sitting on the white cushions of the couch, tired eyes on the soft yet harsh light of the screen.
“Why are you like this?” You asked softly, breaking the quietness after several minutes of silently staring at the screen. 
“Like what?” Curly quizzed, gazing over to you with a raised brow and curious gaze. “Why are you forcing yourself to stay up so late?” The words left your tongue with that soft tone, yet laced with worry and annoyance at the same time.
“I-...” Curly trailed off, caught off guard by the question. He didn’t even know what to reply with. Not thinking that the question would be asked so soon. “I don’t know, actually.” He forced out after a few seconds. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Figure it out.” You said sharply, looking at Curly with narrowed eyes. “I’m getting tired of having to literally force and tuck you into bed like you’re a little kid.” 
“Ouch, that hurt.” The captain thought, the words from you stinging but true. 
“Oh, I didn’t know you felt like that-” He started, about to apologize before he got cut off.
“Curly, you’re a captain for crying out loud! You should be able to take proper care of yourself, you’re a grown man after all!” You scoffed, hands rubbing your eyes. “Get yourself together and get to bed when everyone else does.” 
He was baffled. Not expecting such blunt, harsh words from you. His mouth opened but no sounds or words left him.
“This is the last time I’m telling you. If I find you or find out that you’ve been staying awake this late, I will fucking loose it.” Curly just watched as you walked off after saying that. Guilt and shame started to form in the pits of his stomach. Why did he feel so bad…?
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n7viper · 2 years ago
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every time I listen to this I am sent into a blorbo thought tailspin from which there is no return
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lovemomhatepolice · 13 days ago
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what brought back that smile? - lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x fem! reader
warnings: kinda established relationship, fresh relationship, curious muppets!, English is my second language!
type: fluff, pure fluff
word count: 3,5k
summary: 5 times when someone asked the reason for Lando's sudden surge of happiness, but he preferred to keep his sweet secrets to himself
more content: f1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, birthday one-shot
Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.
THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.
Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.
One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.
“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”
Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”
The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.
“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”
Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.
Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?
Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.
MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.
The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.
Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?
And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.
“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.
Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?
"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.
“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,” Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”
Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.
Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”
Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.
“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”
Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.
“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?
Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”
They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.
Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.
“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.
LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.
The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.
Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.
When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.
“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.
“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.
The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?
“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”
“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.
Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.
“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”
After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.
Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.
When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”
The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”
Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.
“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.
Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.
Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.
“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.
“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.
Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.
Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.
“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.
“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”
Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.
[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”
Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.
“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.
HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.
The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.
Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.
The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.
Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"
Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"
"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.
Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.
"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"
"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "
"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.
After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.
The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"
"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"
Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"
Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.
[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time
FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.
The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.
"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.
Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."
"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.
"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.
"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.
Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.
“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.
He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.
“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.
“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.
Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.
“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.
“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"
For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.
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A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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wireddless · 1 year ago
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Addict
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Reader
cw: 17+ hate. fucking. dubcon, possessive behavior, corio is emotionally abusive, vaguely implied Plinth reader, p in v, unprotected sex, nsfw below the cut,
word count: 2.3k
a/n: i just know hes so hung you guys i want him so bad
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Living in the shadow of Lucy Gray was never an easy feat. That’s all she was after the erasure; a shadow, soon to be only a whisper on the sleeping breath of Coriolanus. The closest he could ever feel to real love was with the District 12 songbird, and had she been more than just a district animal, a member of the Capitol, there was no doubt in your mind he would have married her instead.
Your days at the academy, a few years his inferior, were spent in the naive mindset that he was fully capable of love. However, the only true love he would ever feel was towards the power in his cold-handed grasp. After your graduation, you continued living with your family, their prized figurehead of poise and beauty, until they managed to propose your hand to him, only a year or so before he became president.
Coriolanus, living on top of his family’s hidden debt and poverty, accepted nearly immediately, driven by the thought of the millions that came with your name. Your family, so charmed by the icy man, was manipulated into paying for the lavish ceremony. A Capitol wedding was a spectacle to behold, a sea of colored heads and garments, textiles in unique patterns decorating the spectators in a myriad of colors. An insipid eye-sore, in his opinion.
And there you were, the pale lavender of your dress cascading down your body like the drapes that covered a window in a lonely mansion, baby fat gone. The bright light in your eyes that has now long-since faded, the happy expression you held, truly believing the facade he had put on to convince your family that he was a perfect match, it all fueled a fire of satisfaction in his psyche. He remembered the young girl from their studious days, the sneaky glances shot his way from a face framed by baby fat, it was so easy to take advantage of a schoolgirl crush, to charm his way right into your heart. He’d never go hungry again, and he could finally focus solely on his rise to power.
Or so he thought. When you managed to pick his intentions apart and discovered the cunning and manipulative nature of the man, you became defiant, fucking petulant. Your once tender and loving gaze, seeking to nurture and care for him, hardened like the calcium deposits on the well pumps in the poorer districts of Panem. He heard in passing from the workers of the house about your violent fits of tears late at night. It wasn’t like he cared, hell, the idea of your reddened face damp with tears and snot amused him to no end. But fuck if it didn’t annoy him when Tigris became your closest friend and confidant.
Coriolanus kept you locked away in the golden cage of his home, not permitting the men of his staff to go near you, forcing you to discuss with him the simplest task of visiting your own family. You were still the key to his now inherited wealth, a prize that he had won with cunning and malicious tactics, and the thought of you straying into the arms of another man, who could take you, who could take even a bit of the control he held, it infuriated him to no end.
It took almost a year for you to realize that without your family, he was completely broke, and it took almost two to realize he never once held even a glimmer of fondness towards you, that he was using you. Tigris, who had spoken to you during her regular visits, had become the arms you fell into when the agony of your situation first befell you. Her hands wrapped around your body as she shushed and hummed quietly were a solace to you as the pain dawned on you. Three years after your marriage, you would speak in hushed tones over cooling tea, not bothering to hide your glare when Coriolanus bothered joining. He was no longer the subject matter of your conversations with Tigris, instead discussing gossip that had spread through the yammering mouths of Capitol citizens, and the newest trends to pass around them. She had become your dearest friend, one he couldn’t find a valid reason to hide you from. Though he never would admit while his heart was still beating, despite your shared animosity, you were still his favorite accessory.
The Reaping ceremonies for the next annual Hunger Games would begin soon, which became a sensitive topic between you and Coriolanus. It was no secret to you who Lucy Gray Baird had been, who she had been to him. What the hunger games meant to him. You resented her. Not for the place she held near his heart, but for managing to escape him before he had caged her.
The fire of your arguments was always sparked by her name, the tinder and fuel having already been prepared by the years of building resentment. Almost always in his office, your hands would shove him back as he rapidly approached you after you provoked him with harsh and unforgiving words, only fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards you. Then he would corner you, your back against the wall as one hand found your neck and the other found your hair, his fingernails digging at your scalp. His minty breath falling out of his mouth in heavy gasps as he fought the urge to kill you right there. You made him feel as though he was an animal from the districts, dirty and foaming at the mouth. And he hated that.
“You know I would never harm you.” He’d always reassure you when his grip on your throat finally loosened, his eyes taking in the way you would suck in air he had prevented from reaching your lungs. Coriolanus considered what little he allowed you, even the air you breathed, a favor. He thought himself generous, benevolent even. He wasn’t of course, and you were always quick to point that out.
Today's argument was only different in setting, within the walls of your shared bedroom rather than his office. You had shoved him, predictable, and turned to storm away, wanting to find a guest room to sleep in instead. But before you could reach the door, his hand had yanked you by your hair back towards him before nearly throwing you on the bed. When you sat up to scramble away, he shoved you back down by your shoulders and crawled on top of you, effectively pinning you to the mattress, an echo of your frequent taunts. It was rare that you two would actually be in such a position, as neither of you particularly craved intimacy with one-another, yet the way one hand slid up your negligee and gripped the curve of your thigh conveyed a much different message tonight.
“I just wish you’d shut up for once, you know that?” He growled. Coriolanus Snow was an aggressive lover. He put all his weight on his forearm strung across your chest to keep you pinned down as his fingers left their place on your thigh and slid up to the junction of your legs, cupping your heat rather aggressively before shoving them aside and sliding his fingers over your folds to find the sensitive and rather neglected bundle of nerves. You could hardly hide the shudder that overcame you as you responded.
“Fuck you!” You spat at him, writhing under his touch. Your head fell back on the luxurious sheets and you bit back a moan as he swirled his fingers in a circular motion over your clit, stirring the lust you had repressed to life. How he loved to see your eyes rolling back into your skull as you fought surrendering to his ministrations. The edges of his mouth lifted in a smug little smirk when your arousal became more evident, making your cunt slick and pliable.
Oh, how he adored to see his poor, neglected wife fall victim to her own human nature. It made him want to consume you whole, like you were a treat he got all to himself. Coriolanus’s mouth fell to your collarbone and his teeth scraped over the thin skin as he slipped his middle finger inside your sopping hole, earning an earnest mewl from your normally argumentative lips. He bit down rather hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder as he slowly, teasingly pumped his finger in and out. This would be easier than he thought.
He tilted his head back up to take in the sight of your demeanor flickering to something more vulnerable, before taking your mouth with his. He kissed you like you provided the air he needed to breathe, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. You’d be a fool to say you didn’t still crave him after the years of strained marriage. His teeth clashed with yours as you both attempted to deepen the kiss. When he pushed another finger inside of you, hooking them and speeding up, your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.
When your mother described to you what sex was like, she explained it like an intimate dance, where two souls would merge with love and passion. But it was never like that between the two of you. It was always a battle, aggressive and antagonistic as one of you sought to take something from the other. For Coriolanus, it was a display of his authority and control. His fingers quickened in pace and your hips bucked up into his hand, searching for more friction that would aid in your release. And he was benevolent wasn’t he? Who would he be to deny such a rare and primal pleasure? His fingers continued their attack on the spongy roof of your walls, pushing you closer and closer until your hand tore at the skin of his back with the intensity of your orgasm. Still seeing stars, he pulled his lips from yours and hovered them over your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, damp with tears.
“See how easy everything can be when you just stop resisting me at every turn?” You opened your mouth to respond, to bite back when the arm that pinned you down quickly shifted so his hand could cup over your mouth. He loved shutting you up. His silent voice hissed in your ear with a lingering promise. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
So focused on his words and hot breath on your ear, you almost didn’t notice when he pulled his fingers from inside you to tug down your panties, discarding them somewhere behind him before fumbling with the breeches he slept in, the cold air of the room hitting his stiff cock. He brought that same hand up before him, spitting in it and spreading the wetness of his saliva over his hardened length. Barely giving you a second to process all that was happening, he pressed himself inside of you, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow furrowing as your tight, wet heat engulfed him entirely.
Having not been intimate with him in so long, it was like he was splitting you open, and you cried out with pleasure into his hand, your own lashes pressing together as you took his total length. Coriolanus didn’t remain still for long, and his hips soon began setting a bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he fought the urge to moan himself, not wanting to appear any less in control than he was. Your muffled gasps spurred him on, practically driving him mad as he pummeled into you. The volume difference when he removed his hand from your mouth and forearm from your chest was quite noticeable, and his fingers wove into your hair once more, holding your head back against the bed as he swallowed your moans with his mouth.
The stinging pain of your nails in the skin of his back when they flung around him was dulled by the sheer thrill he felt taking you like this. The hand that coaxed your orgasm out of you found its way to your thigh again, pushing it up over your torso to rest on your shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside of you as his fingers dug into the hot and tender skin. You nearly screamed into his mouth from the change in sensation as his hips came flush with yours over and over again. For a brief moment, he pulled away from the kiss to bite and suck at the skin of your neck, letting you sing out unmuted by his hand, as he imagined his songbird would so many years ago.
Coriolanus hated you. He hated almost everything about you. He resented you the way you resented him, but he was still addicted to you. Addicted to the control you allowed him as he fucked you stupid, to the way your pitful moans were brought about by him, to the dumb fucking look on your face as your body managed to make his hips stutter and falter as he came inside you with a low moan. He didn’t care about pulling out. You were his wife, a state figurehead, it was part of the job description to give birth to his children. Maybe getting you pregnant would even do him the favor of shutting you up. He didn’t bother helping you clean up as you readjusted your nightgown, instead opting to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck himself back in the satin pants he intended on sleeping in.
Coriolanus Snow was not capable of real love. All those close enough to him were well-aware of that fact, including you. But when he crawled into the bed and pulled you, still breathless and trembling, up next to him, when he tucked your head into his chest in a possessive manner, your hands pressed against his heated chest, when he fell asleep holding you like you’d run away too, you momentarily convinced yourself he might have been able to love.
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punkshort · 4 months ago
Text
Roommates | 9. hold onto each other
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Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You build up enough courage to finally talk things out with Joel and tell him how you feel before the wedding is over.
Chapter Warnings: language, food and alcohol consumption, lots of smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving), pussy pronouns, fluff, discussions of mental health, shower sex, mirror sex, having sex while on the phone (don't know what else to call it, also don't know if that requires a warning), thigh fucking?, dirty talk, idiots in love
WC: 7.6K
A/N: I will not apologize for what you're about to read. (It's filth. Pure, unadulterated filthy smut).
Series Masterlist
"That is the man you were roommates with?" your mother asked enviously as she gazed at Joel across the dance floor, who was standing with another groomsman while he held up his mom's pink sparkly phone to record her dancing with Tommy.
"Yep," you said longingly, tearing your eyes away from him to look back at your mom. She tilted her head to the side and her brow furrowed ever so slightly.
"He looks familiar."
Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to scream into the palms of your hands as images of your own mother stumbling across Joel's porn filled your head.
She snapped her fingers with a smile. "Mitch and I saw him at the bar the other night! He must have been helping Tommy, he was carrying boxes of alcohol."
You shook your head. "No, Mom, that couldn't have been him."
"No, I'm certain it was. I remember even telling Mitch at the time they looked alike. And I would never forget those arms. The way they practically burst out of his T-shirt-"
"Mom!" you whined, begging her to stop.
She chuckled and took a sip of her wine. "Oh, please, let me have my fun."
You groaned and drank the rest of your champagne. Well, at least she didn't recognize him from porn.
The song changed to another ballad and you watched as Mrs. Miller kissed Tommy on the cheek before breaking away and motioning towards Joel. A small smile tugged at your lips as he pocketed her phone and took her hand before leading her around the dance floor. His face was filled with such love and adoration that it made your heart melt.
As you continued to watch Joel and his mother move around the dance floor, you felt yourself growing nervous again. Now that the cake was cut and the first dances were done, most of the significant parts of the wedding were over. Which meant soon you would need to muster the courage to talk to Joel.
Fuck, maybe you should have one more drink.
No, you didn't want to be drunk when you told him. He needed to know you meant what you said. You've done enough to him in the past year, jerking him around and unintentionally hurting his feelings. If you had any shot in hell, you had to make sure you were somewhat clearheaded.
Your mother was just finishing up her cake when she looked over your shoulder. Her eyes lit up excitedly and she straightened up in her seat, smoothing down her dress. With a frown, you turned to see what she was looking at then felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Joel approaching.
"Evenin'," he said to your mother, his voice deep and syrupy. "I'm Joel, brother of the groom." He stuck out his hand and your mother giddily handed hers over while giving her name. He brought her knuckles to his lips and she giggled, making you roll your eyes.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she gushed, her cheeks tinting pink already.
"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he answered, dropping her hand with a smirk. She gave you a look and raised her eyebrows.
"Ma'am, did you hear that?" she loudly whispered to you.
"Yes, I am sitting right here," you said flatly.
Joel cleared his throat and you looked back up at him.
"Was wonderin' if I could have this dance," he said to you, then glanced at your mother. "If you could spare her, that is."
Your mother giggled again and waved him off. "Of course! You two have fun, I was getting ready to go home soon anyway."
You quickly said your goodbyes to your mom before allowing Joel to lead you out onto the dance floor. He took one of your hands and held it out to your side, the other sliding around your waist while you rested your hand on his shoulder with a smile.
"I'm so honored," you told him with a teasing lilt to your voice as he slowly lead you around the dance floor.
"Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"I haven't seen you dancing with anyone else except your mom."
He smirked and tilted his chin up to look somewhere over the top of your head. "You been watchin' me?"
Your cheeks warmed from embarrassment but you didn't really care. "Maybe."
He hummed, smirk still stretched across his lips as he looked around the banquet room, but he wasn't really looking at anyone or anything in particular.
"You look handsome."
His eyebrows shot up and he looked down at you once again. "Thank you?"
You giggled and felt his fingers grip your waist a little tighter. "Is that a question?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Tryin' to flatter me, what're you up to?"
The butterflies began to stir in your belly once again so you dropped your gaze. "Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."
The smile slowly slid from his face when he heard the serious tone to your voice. "Everythin' okay?"
"Y-yeah, everything's fine," you quickly assured him. Just then, Michael Bublé's voice faded out and the DJ picked a Black Eyed Peas song that instantly caused the dance floor to break out into cheers, completely ruining the atmosphere from a moment ago. "Nevermind," you said as you attempted to step away, but he tightened his grip. "I'll tell you some other time."
"Tell me now."
You winced when a handful of girls nearby began to drunkenly scream along to the lyrics. Joel looked frustrated when he finally dropped his hand from your waist but kept his other hand firmly wrapped around yours. "Follow me."
He lead you through the crowd and as you passed by your abandoned table, you grabbed your clutch. Shit. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to pour your heart out to him in the middle of his brother's wedding? What if he shot you down? What if he got mad at you for trying to drag him into your messy life once again? What if you were about to ruin the fragile relationship you just rebuilt?
He pulled you into the lobby, which was relatively empty given the time of night, and found a small area with a few couches and chairs and a television airing the local news on mute with the closed captioning on.
"Alright," he urged when you sat down next to him on one of the couches. You could hear the bass thumping from the closed banquet room and people's laughter echoing over the music, but otherwise it was quiet. You fiddled with the hem of your dress, trying to give your nerves a chance to settle, but it was no use.
"So, I told you I've been in therapy," you began, staring down at your lap, pretending to find a loose thread in your dress.
"Mhm."
"Lately, I've been working on my insecurities and self destructive tendencies. Specifically, related to you."
His fingers that were once casually tapping on the back of the sofa suddenly stopped.
"Okay..." he said slowly.
You cleared your throat and kept your eyes pinned to your lap.
"... and your job," you added, biting the inside of your cheek. "I've been working on... learning to be okay with it. Focusing on the source of my insecurities and why I feel the way I feel about it and I think I've made some progress."
"That's... good," he told you, clearly confused. "But why are you tellin' me this?"
You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to look at him. He was staring at you softly with his perfect lips pouting so enticingly, giving you the final bit of courage you needed to say what you wanted to say.
"I'm telling you this because... because I want to be with you, Joel. If you'll give me another chance, I want to do this right." His expression remained unchanged so you barreled ahead. "I don't care about your job. Not anymore. I just want to be with you. You make me happy, you make me laugh, I think about you all the time." You were growing more nervous with every passing second where he didn't say anything, so you continued to fill the silence with your own rambling thoughts. "Any time something good happens, I want to call you. Any time something bad happens, I want to call you. It's always you. It's always been you. And I'm sorry for everything I put you through and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to fix myself, but I couldn't -"
"Stop."
Your words died in your throat at his harsh tone. Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and tried not to cry as you waited for the sting of his rejection, but to your surprise, it never came. Instead, you felt his fingers gently pinch your chin. You opened your eyes to find him leaning forward, his gaze seeming angry despite his soft touch.
"You don't need to fix yourself," he said bitterly. "You're fuckin' perfect."
You exhaled loudly, a dry chuckle slipping past your lips as you wiped away a tear or two. "I'm not."
"You are," he told you firmly before finally closing the distance between you and brushing his lips softly against yours. "You are," he whispered again and again, each sweet kiss becoming more urgent than the last. You grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and held him close, pressing your mouth against his tightly before leaning back and pushing your foreheads together with a smile.
"Is that a yes?" you laughed.
"'Course it is, you kiddin' me?" he said quietly before sliding his hand up to grip the back of your neck, his nose gently nudging yours, the both of you taking a few tender moments to soak everything in with matching smiles. "I should probably tell you somethin', though."
One hand dropped from his collar and you tipped your head back a fraction so you could look him in the eye. "What?"
He grinned and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I quit my job."
Your eyes widened and you leaned all the way back in surprise. "What?!"
"Months ago, actually," he said with a laugh. You smacked him on the shoulder but you weren't mad. In fact, you were smiling so much it almost hurt.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged. "I didn't wanna pressure you. You said you were workin' on yourself and all that."
Your lower lip trembled and you smacked his shoulder again, but with less force. "I can't believe you," you whispered before tugging him forward and sliding your tongue past his lips with a moan. There was something so beautiful to be had in that moment. Each of you had done something monumental to try to make it work between you and it was so moving, so powerful that you found yourself getting carried away, completely forgetting where you were as you climbed into his lap, his hands immediately dropping to squeeze your ass. But who could blame you, when you've waited so long for that moment?
Joel pulled his head back with a sharp inhale, breaking the kiss when he heard a door across the lobby open and close. "Do you... we oughta... they're probably wonderin' where we are." He lifted one arm so he could check the time on his watch, then glanced back up at you. You were staring down at him, breathless and needy, your eyes already drifting back down to his mouth.
You didn't need to say anything.
"Fuck it, c'mon," he said, quickly lifting you off his lap so you could both stand. In your eagerness to race to the elevator, you almost forgot your purse. Doubling back as fast as your heels would carry you, you grabbed it from the couch and hurried back just as the elevator doors opened.
He jabbed the L4 button numerous times until the damn doors slid shut.
"Christ, wanted this for so long," he whispered, eyes squeezing shut when you pushed him up against the side of the elevator. "Wanted you for so long," he corrected himself after a moment. Your mouth found the exposed patch of chest at the top of his shirt and your tongue slipped out between your lips, flicking against his skin as you continued to leave wet kisses everywhere you could find. You made it to the hollow of his throat when the elevator dinged and you tore yourself away to drag him down the hall.
"Which room?"
"Don't care."
You picked yours. Your fingers were shaking as you raked through your small clutch, then tapped the hard plastic against the sensor, getting frustrated when you were going too quick and the door wouldn't open. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his hips against your ass so you could feel his arousal through your clothes.
"Not helping," you muttered before forcing yourself to slow down and finally the door gave way and you stumbled inside.
His mouth was on you in an instant. Eager lips pressed against your own, champagne soaked tongues reunited, tangling together while you recklessly shoved his tuxedo coat over his shoulders, leaving it crumpled on the floor near the bathroom as you made your way to the bed.
Joel's hands slid up and down the back of your dress, fingers plucking at the fabric, trying to locate the zipper without having to pull away. You tugged one of his hands to your side without looking, blindly leading him to his target. He smiled against your lips and yanked the zipper down so fast, he nearly tore the fabric.
Leaving your dress in a pile at the foot of your bed, you pulled away from the kiss so you could fall back onto the mattress. Your chests were heaving in unison as you both fought for air, staring at one another, anticipation growing thick.
His eyes drifted down your almost naked body while his fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt, lips parted to suck in more air as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Is this real?" he asked, eyes catching yours once again after he shrugged off his shirt.
"I think so," you replied quietly, sounding just as incredulous. "I hope so."
He loudly unbuckled his belt, then the fly of his pants as you laid before him, sprawled out over the plush comforter like an offering.
"Ain't ever lettin' you go after this," he warned as he stepped out of his pants. "Never again, hear me?"
You nodded. "Please don't."
He cupped his palms around the backs of your knees and tugged, pulling you to the edge of the bed with one rough motion.
"As pretty as these are, they gotta go," he murmured, hooking his fingers around the lace edge of your panties and sliding them down your legs. A little pained sound rumbled in the back of his throat when he spread your knees and saw the evidence of your arousal between your legs. He fell to his knees and rested the side of his face against your thigh as he gazed down at your aching center.
"Missed you," he whispered lovingly into your folds before dragging his tongue, slow and broad, through the entire length of your slit.
"Oh, my god," you whined when his lips puckered around your clit and gently sucked. "Were you talking to me or her?"
You felt his lips twitch against your sensitive skin and released your bundle of nerves with a little moan. "Was talkin' to her but I missed you, too."
Some sharp, sarcastic comment was on the verge of slipping past your lips but quickly got swallowed down and forgotten when he began to lick, his tongue probing into your cunt while his upper lip pressed against your clit. The friction from his beard on the most sensitive part of your body made you see stars. Your back arched and you cried out his name, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued to lick and suck with a deep groan.
"Joel," you whimpered, legs weakly stretching and kicking under his ministrations. He quickly put a stop to that by grabbing both and tossing them over his shoulders then using his hands to grip your thighs, but still you writhed in his hold.
"Y'got know idea what you do to me," he whispered under his breath before diving back in.
"Fuck... I-I can't..." you panted, fists grabbing the comforter, pulling and tugging, desperate to grab onto anything. His fingers dug into the crease of your thighs, holding your hips against his face, fucking you relentlessly with his tongue as if he were afraid he would never get a chance to do it again.
He slid one hand flat over your mound and pressed down on your clit with his thumb. You bucked off the bed, everything feeling too sensitive, too sharp. But still, he pinned you down, his tongue that was once lapping at your pussy suddenly more focused and calculated when his lips puckered together in favor of loudly kissing your sex with a deep groan.
With two quick and firm circles over your clit, you fell apart. He was saying something, you could feel the vibrations of his voice, but you had no idea what he said. Your throat had grown hoarse, fingers grabbing for his hair while your heart pounded in your ears.
"It ain't ever been like this," he said, and finally you were able to understand him. You slowly opened your eyes to find him hovering over you, his beard and mouth shiny with your slick and his eyes so wide and soft it made your chest ache.
"I know," you whispered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed when you pulled him close and pressed your mouth against his. He pushed you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows, never once breaking the deep kiss. It was slower, now. There was no rush, no need to hurry to keep what you had a secret.
"Shit, my condoms are 'cross the hall," he mumbled against your lips. The very last thing he wanted to do was leave you. Not now. Not ever.
"Just make sure you pull out," you told him, apparently also unwilling to let him leave, and reached down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his thick length.
"Y-yeah, okay... okay," he breathed when he felt you line him up with your entrance.
His brain went numb and his features went slack as he slowly eased inside you. He couldn't take his eyes off your face; the way your eyebrows pinched together and the sound you made when you gasped softly, your body being forced to adjust to his size after months without him.
"Fuck," you whispered, eyes welling with tears as you gazed up at him.
"I know, I know," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over your nose.
"Joel, I love you," you whimpered in his ear when he finally buried himself fully inside you.
"What?" he asked breathlessly, certain he misunderstood.
"I love you," you repeated, your teeth nipping at his chin as you writhed underneath him, willing him to move. His eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your middle, nuzzling his face into your neck.
"I love you, too," he choked out, voice thick with emotion that he tried to stifle with kisses to your throat and jaw. "Love you so fuckin' much. Always did, I think."
He clenched his jaw and flexed his hips, pulling a sweet moan from your lips as you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. He was so slow with it, making sure you felt every inch when he dragged his cock in and out, your arousal painting his inner thighs every time his hips made contact with your skin. You might have felt embarrassed if you both weren't so preoccupied with trading love bites and occasionally whispering you feel so good, I missed you, I love you, I love you, I love you, chests pressed together, desperate to get as close as possible.
You unhooked your ankles from his lower back and slid your legs up his sides so your knees were resting near his ribs. With his tongue still tangled with yours, he blindly reached down to grab one of your thighs and gently pressed forward, pushing your knee towards your chest. Your eyes flew open and you gasped at the intense angle, but still he kept up the same pace. Every thrust was slow and deep, every groan was low and soft, and every whisper sounded like a prayer.
"Just wanna feel you," he murmured against your neck, his beard scraping your skin, making it feel warmer than it already was. "Wanna fuck you like this always. Shit, baby," he moaned when he felt you clench around him. "Shit, that feels good. Such a soft pussy..." he trailed off and latched onto your lips for a fast and messy kiss. "Oh, fuck... best fuckin' pussy I've ever had."
And oh, did you love hearing that. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp with a deep sigh.
"Yeah? You love her, too?"
He grinned. "Y'know I do."
He hitched your other leg over his arm, practically bending you in half while grinding into you, watching as your breath quickened and your tongue shot out to wet your lips. "Joel," you whined, the pressure mounting low in your belly, "I'm close, I'm... fuck, I'm gonna come. Please," you begged, not really sure what you were begging for in the first place. Maybe for him to keep going. Maybe for him to kiss you again. Maybe for him to fill the hole in your heart that's been destroying you for months.
When you came, you squeezed around his cock, his name getting caught in your throat when his mouth crashed over yours.
"So pretty," he mumbled, voice a little strained as he tried to keep it together long enough for you to come down. "Love watchin' you come. Who makes you feel good, baby?"
"You do," you whimpered, weak fingers grabbing at his shoulders.
"'S'right," he said, his breath growing ragged. He could feel his stomach tensing and he knew he only had a few more moments. "Only me. Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his sweaty forehead dropping to your shoulder.
"I'm yours, Joel," you told him, voice a little clearer but still shaky. "And you're mine," you added softly, corner of your mouth lifting when you heard him groan.
He pulled out and grabbed his cock, giving it only a few quick strokes before he painted your stomach with his release, the both of you watching in a daze until he stopped with a shudder and collapsed onto the bed next to you, chest heaving with an arm draped tiredly over his eyes.
"I'll get somethin'," he told you, gesturing vaguely towards your stomach with his eyes still hidden. "Just... gimme a second."
"Mhmm," you mumbled, catching your breath with your arms stretched above your head. "I need a shower, anyway," you told him, all the hair products and makeup from the past twelve hours beginning to feel like paint.
"Oh?" he questioned, sounding disappointed when he turned his face to you. "Okay, sure."
"Will you stay?" you asked, hating how pathetic you sounded. But he smiled warmly and pinched your chin before planting a soft kiss against your lips.
"'Course I'll stay," he whispered, kissing you slowly once more before releasing you.
Joel watched with a lazy smirk as you stood with a quiet ow under your breath, your body no doubt already sore.
"Gonna have to get that pretty pussy used to me again," he teased, laughing and dodging the pillow you grabbed from the other bed that you chucked in his direction before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.
He laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the water turn on and the shower door close. He kept waiting to wake up, kept thinking the past hour was some crazy dream or fantasy, but it was real.
You loved him.
For years, he tried to find someone like you. Someone who would love him for him and not just use him. Sure, in the beginning he didn't mind being used. But the past few years he found to be painfully lonely. Especially once Tommy met Maria, that ache in his chest grew every time he saw them together, or every time he heard Tommy on the phone or talk about her with such fondness in his eyes. Selfishly, he always wondered why not me?
Now he had his answer. He was just waiting for you.
He heard you humming in the shower, your voice echoing off the glass walls and he smiled. He imagined you in there cleaning yourself up, your perfect body all soapy and wet and he felt his cock twitch.
"Shit," he muttered, lifting the thin sheet to see himself begin to swell once again. Would it always be like this? Would he always have an insatiable appetite for you?
A minute later and he was almost fully hard once more. He palmed it over the sheet and he looked longingly at the closed bathroom door. What was taking so long?
Then a smirk spread across his face and he jumped up from the bed, cock bobbing at attention between his legs as he walked to the bathroom and quietly opened the door.
The mirror was fogged up and so were the glass shower walls. He could hardly see you through all the steam, but he heard you. He heard the water cascading off your body and your fingers running through your wet hair.
Carefully, he opened the door and was pleased to find your back was to him as you rinsed out the last of your conditioner. When he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and screamed a little before collapsing into a fit of laughter and turning around in his arms. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. All the makeup was down the drain but you looked more radiant than ever.
He leaned forward for a wet kiss, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze your ass before pulling on your hips, tugging you closer so you could feel how hard he was for you.
"Need you," he murmured, but he meant more than just the obvious. He didn't want to be without you now that he had you, not even for a second.
"Already?" you breathed, but he just nodded, his lips dragging down your neck, your skin smelling like roses and vanilla.
"Too much?" he asked, mouth trailing slowly over your shoulder. Your nipples were pressed against his chest and his cock nearly hurt from how hard he was.
"No," you whispered, letting your eyes slide shut as you curled your arms around his neck. "Never too much."
Without hesitation, he crouched and grabbed the backs of your thighs, hauling you off the ground so he could press your back against the glass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when the tip of his cock nudged at your opening, the width surprising you, even still.
You let out a loud moan when he pressed forward, sinking himself back into your sore, aching heat, right where he belonged. One of his hands supported your ass and the other was flat against the glass next to your head, his fingers leaving wet smudges as he rocked his hips into you, swallowing down every whine and moan that tumbled from your mouth. That perfect fucking mouth he dreamed about for the past year. And now it was all his.
"God, Joel, yes... right there," you cried out, cunt already pulsing and gripping him so tight that he had half a mind not to pull out that time.
"Yeah?" he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he nipped at your chin, watching as your head rolled listlessly against the foggy glass while he drove into you over and over. "There?"
"Yeah," you practically whined, hand shooting up to grab his hair, fingers slipping through his wet curls. "No one's ever... I can't... you're so-" you rambled half formed thoughts as your heart hammered in your chest, your orgasm steadily climbing, unable to tell him what you wanted to tell him.
"No one's what, baby?" he growled, thrusting himself impossibly deeper inside your cunt. "No one's ever fucked you this good? Huh?"
"No," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip.
"What else? No one's ever made you come this much? Tell me, I wanna hear it," he groaned in your ear, his hot breath melting with the steam from the shower.
You shook your head then nodded, as if you didn't know how to answer. And you couldn't. Not when he was fucking you like it would be the last time.
"No one's ever - oh, fuck," you gasped, swallowing a mouthful of air, "no one's ever m-made me feel so good. I've never w-wanted anyone the way I want you." You squeezed your eyes shut but he quickly bit your jaw, forcing them back open.
"Keep your eyes on me."
You nodded, jaw half open as you did as you were told. His brows were furrowed deep, eyes wild and skin flushed as he pounded into you, forcing you over the edge for the third time in less than two hours.
"I got you," he murmured when your body sagged from the effort. He wrapped both arms around you now and fucked up into you recklessly, chasing his own high as quickly as possible so he could take you back to bed and rest.
Even though the voice inside his head was screaming at him to come inside you, he miraculously pulled out, spilling himself all over the shower wall between your legs.
"You okay?" he asked breathlessly, setting you down but still holding onto your shoulders. You nodded and slumped against his chest, legs visibly shaking. He chuckled and reached for the shower knob, turning the water off before walking you towards the door. Swinging it open, he reached out blindly for a towel. Finding one, he wrapped it around your shoulders, swaddling you and keeping you warm while he reached for another.
He messily knotted it around his waist and led you to bed. You didn't even bother to put any pajamas on or remove the towel, you just buried yourself under the covers with a contented sigh.
Joel was about to turn back to the bathroom and clean up a bit before you spoke.
"Come to bed."
His heart clenched in his chest and he smiled as he rounded the bed and slid under the sheets to join you, unable to resist.
Quickly, you scooted over to him, tossing a leg over his stomach and an arm over his chest and buried your face against his neck. He held you close, breathing in deep before you whispered, "I love you, Joel."
"I love you, too," he spoke into your hair, his chest ready to burst with happiness as you both fell into a deep sleep.
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When you awoke the next morning, you smiled before you even opened your eyes. Joel's natural scent combined with the floral shampoo you used that the hotel had left out filled your nostrils. You breathed in deep and buried your face further into his warm, bare chest. He stretched underneath you, muscles pulling under his tanned skin, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he flexed.
"Morning," you whispered groggily, eyes still closed. You felt his arms wrap around you as he rolled onto his side, tugging you against him.
"Mornin'."
It can always be like this now, you thought. Waking up next to each other whenever you wanted. No sneaking around, no more hiding how you felt. It was perfect.
Until Joel's phone rang shrilly on his nightstand. He groaned and, keeping one arm securely around you, reached behind him to grab it.
"Hello?" he answered, voice thick and rough with sleep. Your body responded instantly, your core softening at his voice like it was a command, but what came with it was also a tight hint of soreness from the night before.
You could hear Tommy's voice through the phone, but you couldn't make out what he was saying.
"Nah, I'm hungover as shit, gonna order somethin'," Joel said.
You thought he had been joking the night before about getting your body used to him again, but you began to realize he was probably being serious the more you squirmed around and felt the stiffness in your muscles and hips.
"Yeah, alright. If I don't see ya later, I'll catch ya at the bar tomorrow."
He tapped his screen and tossed his phone haphazardly behind him with a smirk. "C'mere," he murmured, pressing his swollen lips against yours, his hand drifting to cup your face.
Christ, you were sore but you still wanted him so badly.
You flicked your tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss the second he dropped his jaw. Right when you were about to curl your leg around his hip and roll over to straddle him, your own phone began to vibrate loudly against your nightstand.
You both froze, lips still seared together, then slowly opened your eyes.
"Hold on," you grumbled, rolling over so your back was to Joel, then picked up your phone.
"It's Maria."
"Answer it," he said, inching closer. He pulled you back against his chest, cock hard and pressing between your bodies as you begrudgingly answered the phone.
"Hey! Have a fun night?" you asked cheerily. Your eyes snapped up to see movement in the full length mirror across from the bed. It was narrow, but you could see from your stomach down. Joel was pushing the sheets off himself and you watched as his hand drifted in front of you, tugging the sheet away from your chest, exposing yourself to the cool air. When he palmed one of your breasts from behind, you had to bite back a moan so Maria wouldn't hear.
"So much fun! I hardly got any sleep," she was saying, but you could barely hear her when his fingers slid down to pinch your nipple. You turned your face upwards to gasp softly, hoping it didn't get picked up by the receiver.
"Yeah?" you asked, hoping that would be enough to encourage her, and it was.
Maria kept babbling about things that happened the night before, things you missed after you and Joel snuck away. She was telling you something about a groomsman who attempted to do a split in the middle of the dance floor and ended up ripping his pants when you saw Joel lift your leg in the mirror, hooking it around his inner elbow and spreading your hips wide. Embarrassment flushed your face when you saw your pussy in the mirror, already glistening with arousal.
Then his cock slipped between your legs, nudging at your folds, his smooth tip coating itself in your slick before he pushed forward, parting your swollen cunt. The pain was brief, yet intense, but you were entirely distracted with the way it looked in the mirror. How fucking big he was and how you opened up and stretched so beautifully for him.
"Did the phone cut out?"
"Huh?" you squeaked, eyes transfixed on your reflection, hips rocking steadily in rhythm with his. You felt him chuckle behind you, his arm pulling your leg up even more so you could see everything.
"I asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast? The rest of the bridal party is meeting at the restaurant downstairs in twenty minutes."
Fuck, he felt so good. Combined with the visual, it was almost too much.
"Uh, I'm gonna pass. I already ate, I'm pretty full," you told her, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he began to move faster, his skin lightly slapping against your ass. You thought you heard him mumble yeah, you are, and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip.
"Well, okay. If you change your mind, we'll be down there at ten."
"Okay, thanks! I better go, my mom's beeping in. I'll call you later," you said hurriedly, hoping you weren't being too rude but if you stayed on the phone with her for one more minute, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide what you were really doing.
Mercifully, she hung up and you tossed your phone onto the floor, uncaring where it ended up, and reached behind you to curl your fingers around the back of Joel's head. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was messy and heated, and the way you had to twist your neck was awkward, but it didn't matter.
"Fuck yeah, baby. Look how good you take me," he groaned in your ear when he spotted you glancing towards the mirror again. "So pretty, ain't it?"
"Mhmm," you whined, still entranced by the way his thick cock split you open and you knew for sure in that moment no one else would ever come close to Joel. You were stupid to try to fight it.
Your hand dropped to clutch your pillow, your stomach drawing tighter the faster he snapped his hips, every devastating thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm gonna come," you whimpered, and he readjusted his grip on your leg, prying you open as wide as you would go.
You felt his teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hot and quick as his exhale puffed against your skin.
"That's right. Come all over my cock, baby. Give it t'me," he growled, hips slamming into you from behind so forcefully it almost pushed you off the bed, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper inside you.
Your eyes squeezed shut and you cried out when you came, your walls pulsing around his length, your body trying to suck him in and keep him there and fuck if he didn't want that, too.
At the last second he pulled out, watching in a daze as he dropped your leg, his cock now sandwiched between your thighs. With a deep groan, he watched in the mirror as he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over your legs and the hotel sheets.
"I love you," he gasped, his sweaty forehead pressed against your upper back as he dragged in mouthfuls of air, waiting for his pulse to settle. "'M sorry, can't stop sayin' it."
You reached behind you and found his hand. Lacing your fingers together, you wrapped his arm around your middle, mumbling I love you, too, never tiring of it.
You waited a respectable amount of time for the bridal party to eat and leave the restaurant before venturing downstairs together, hand in hand. You contemplated just ordering room service but you weren't entirely certain you could keep your hands off each other long enough to eat, so forcing yourselves to leave the room felt like the best option.
The hostess led you to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, the room still buzzing with activity even though it was late in the morning. Your fingers linked together across the table as you sipped your coffees, exchanging little smirks whenever your eyes met.
"Can I ask you a question?" Joel asked, and you almost found yourself laughing at how serious he suddenly looked.
"Of course."
He glanced around the dining room quickly before leaning across the table. "You ain't on birth control anymore?"
You knocked the heel of your hand against your forehead. "I'm sorry, I should've told - no, I'm not. I took myself off the pill because I wasn't... y'know," you trailed off, embarrassment creeping up your neck.
Joel couldn't stop his smirk when he put it together so he pursed his lips and tilted his face toward the table, trying to hide it before saying, "so you're tellin' me you didn't have sex with anyone else since me?"
"Don't act so proud," you teased with a grin.
"I ain't," he said defensively, then thought about it for a moment before laughing. "Okay, maybe I am."
You giggled as you watched him take a sip of coffee, daydreaming about your future together and all the endless breakfasts you'll share. You imagined getting up early for work and showering, then coming into the kitchen to find Joel in just his pajama bottoms pouring you both coffees with unkept hair, asking if you saved him enough hot water because he still had to get ready for work.
Work. Suddenly, your smile fell when you remembered something. "Wait, you said you quit your job?" you asked, and he nodded, his thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist. "So what do you do now?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "You ain't gonna believe it."
"Try me," you teased, knees bumping together under the table. You were close but still felt so far apart.
"I bought the bar," he said, sounding almost sheepish. Your eyes widened in surprise.
"Our bar? Tommy's bar?" you questioned, and he nodded. "H-how?"
He chuckled again and raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "What'dya mean how? With money."
"Yeah, I figured that," you said with a roll of your eyes, "but you just bought a house, too. How can you afford all that?"
He opened his mouth to reply when the server came to drop off your food. You finally unlinked your hands so you could pick up your silverware, and only once your waitress left did he respond to your question.
"Porn paid good," he said with a shrug. "I did it for a long time and I lived with my brother payin' next to nothin' in rent and utilities."
"Wow," you breathed in awe before shoveling some eggs in your mouth.
He watched you eat quietly for a few minutes before clearing his throat, drawing your attention from your breakfast.
"Why didn't you just ask me to quit? I woulda done it."
You paused your chewing and set your fork down on your plate.
"Because," you began, swallowing your food. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me. It wouldn't feel right and I was afraid if I did, you would grow to resent me."
His brows furrowed and he reached a hand across the table for you. "I woulda never resented you."
"You don't know that," you told him.
"I wasn't happy doin' it. Not like I used to be, anyway," he said. "Kept me from havin' certain things in my life. Could never make a relationship work and as I got older, it was somethin' I really wanted. I just didn't know how to get out. I mean, who can put somethin' like that on a resume?" he laughed softly. "Then Tommy mentioned his boss was lookin' to retire and I thought, hell... won't have to put shit on a resume if I'm my own boss."
You nodded and squeezed his hand, feeling guilty for never realizing he had his own internal struggles going on. Then you swallowed nervously before asking your next question, your curiosity unable to be ignored.
"Well, what about Sadie?" you asked, "she seemed really into you and she obviously wouldn't have had a problem with your career."
He gave you a small smile, eyes flashing with guilt when he thought back to his brief date with Sadie. The night he invited her over for board games and he ended up going down on you in the bathroom while she was left to talk to strangers in the living room.
"She was nice but there wasn't anythin' there. Not really. I was jealous of Sam and knew she liked me... I shouldn't've asked her over that night. It was wrong," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "She never stood a chance. She wasn't you, baby," he said softly.
You felt your chest clench from the tortured look in his eye, and for the millionth time you mentally berated yourself for spending so much time avoiding your feelings for him. Choosing not to deny yourself any longer, you stood up from your chair and closed the short distance between you. Cupping his face with both your hands, you leaned down and kissed him, trying your very best to put every ounce of love you had into it. It must have worked because you could feel his lips curving into a smile, then yours did the same.
It didn't matter how long it took, what mattered was what you had now.
Unfortunately, your bliss was short lived when you heard an all too familiar voice shriek excitedly behind you. You tore yourself away to swivel around in surprise, only to find Tommy and Maria standing a few tables away with their jaws hung open in shock, very clearly having witnessed your kiss.
"I knew it!" she exclaimed, tugging on Tommy's arm to drag him over to your table. "I knew something was up when neither of you wanted to join us for food!"
Cheeks blazing hot with embarrassment, you were about to return to your chair but Joel's arm wrapped around you, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap. "No more hidin', yeah?" he murmured in your ear. You grinned and gave him one more quick peck.
"Yeah," you agreed right before they approached. "No more hiding."
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flametrashiraarchive · 1 year ago
Note
Possessive Giyuu who can't stand the fact Tengen keeps flirting with you, his favourite kakushi / nurse.
Possessive Giyuu who is a lil bit yandere and a lil bit delusional and fuck you hard, to remind you who you belong to.
Possessive Giyuu who makes sure you can't walk the next day and your whole body is full of hickeys.
You're his, and you would do damn well to remember it.
- Beer anon 🍻
I think about a quarter of my asks are for Giyuu lol. Yandere is not my thing so it may be a bit more toned down than you wanted but I hope it's still okay.
Enjoy!!
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Mine- Giyuu x fem!reader
Giyuu couldn't stand it. 
The way you laughed at Tengen's childish humor as he sat in the infirmary bed made the water hashira's mood even more sour than usual. He and the sound hashira had both been injured on their latest mission– which he had initially thought of as something of a blessing because it meant he got to see you again. But he was hating every second of it. 
"I'm just saying," Tengen smirked as you handed him his medication. "These bitter pills go down easier with a little bit of sweetness, and you're about as sweet as they come. I'll be back to my full strength in no time"
You laughed adorably and shook your head. "You're too kind, Lord Tengen."
Giyuu's hands gripped the bedsheets.
He couldn't even blame Tengen. He wasn't even sure that the sound hashira was actually trying to make a move on you. The man was happily married to three women he adored. Tengen was just a naturally charismatic and flirtatious guy, and you… well, he couldn't blame you for blushing. It's not like you were doing it on purpose. 
And it wasn't as though Giyuu could legitimately claim you as his either. You'd kissed a few times and he'd used his fingers to make you cum once in the medical supplies closet, but that had all been over the space of a year and neither of you had ever discussed making it an official thing. 
Still though…
His eyes were as still and serene as the deepest lagoon, but inside he was raging. It shouldn't matter, but it did. It mattered a great deal. You were one of the only good parts of his life, one of the only people he didn't feel like he had to be so closed off from. And tucked away safely in the infirmary instead of out there with the demons, you were safe enough for him to trust that you weren't about to die on him. 
He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
"Tomioka-sama. Your medication…" 
Tomioka… sama? So damn formal. So detached. He took the medication from your hand and swallowed it without a word, turning away from you. 
Did you have to have such pretty damn eyes?
Later that afternoon, the sound hashira was napping, but Giyuu simply couldn't. Your footsteps padded softly through the infirmary, making his heart beat faster when it sounded as though you were coming close, only to fill him with disappointment when they faded.
No, he couldn’t stand this a minute longer. 
He was injured but not so badly that he couldn’t walk. With a pained grunt he got out of bed and began his search for you. It only took him a couple of minutes. 
“Giyuu,” you hissed, a look of surprise and annoyance on your face. “What are you doing out of bed?” 
He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the storage closet, kicking the door shut behind him as he pinned your arms to the wall above your head and pressed a heated, claiming kiss to your lips. 
The way your eyebrows shot up and then slowly relaxed as he kissed you, the way you were immediately silenced by his lips and your body went from startled stiffness to relaxed compliance. Oh yes…this is what he needed.
This was much better. 
He pressed his body against yours, loving the way you moaned against his lips. His heart fluttered as you kissed him back; so soft and deep, your tongue caressing his as you sighed longingly. Releasing his grip on your wrists, his hands followed the curves of your body, clumsy in their desperation to feel every perfect inch of you.
Finally he pulled back and gazed into your eyes.“Do you want me to make you cum?”
You nodded and he could see the desperation in your face. “Yes.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” His kisses trailed down to your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. 
He worked open the buttons on your uniform as he began to suck your neck, harder and harder, intent on leaving a mark. He wanted every damn person who saw you know that you were his.
You moaned as he pinned your hips with his, his body heavy and warm against yours. “Giyuu…”
A low hum of approval emerged from him as his rough, battle-worn hands caressed your skin. "So soft. I could do this every day and never get tired of it." He kissed you fiercely, as his hands moved downward, slipping under your skirt.
His fingers circled your clit, and the corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk. You were so wet already, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, and knowing this made his dick painfully hard. Every little moan you made, every gasp or sigh of pleasure made him ache.
The way you gasped his name made him feral. He pulled his pants down to the tops of his thighs and took your hand, bringing it to his cock. The sight of your hand wrapped around it made his balls tighten.
"Stroke it for me," he whispered, tugging your earlobe with his teeth as he continued stroking your clit.
The moment you started to pump his cock in your soft hands, a shiver ran through his body. He was so damn needy for you, groaning as he rutted against your palm, baring his teeth as you swiped your thumb over his tip and coated it in his precum.
“You’re getting me so hard.” He couldn't stand it a moment longer. "I need to fuck you," he growled through gritted teeth.
"Mm…Yes."
"Yeah? You want me to fuck this pretty pussy and make you mine?" 
"Gods, yes, Giyuu…" Your breath was hot and hard against his lips as he hoisted you into his arms and set your ass down on a table stacked with supplies. 
He pressed his cock to your entrance, sliding it up through your folds and coating it in your wetness. “I want you to watch. I want you to see me take you.”
You did as he asked, your breaths coming in shallow pants as he pushed into you. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you made you both choke out wanton groans. 
“So wet for me,” he grunted as he began to thrust into you. He pressed his teeth to his lower lip as his brow furrowed. He fucked you hard and fast, making damn sure you felt every inch of him pounding into you. You weren't about to forget him. You were going to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.
The table squeaked with every thrust, supplies falling off and rolling across the floor. He'd deal with that later. All that mattered now was that you were his.
The wet slap of skin on skin filled the supply closet. The sound of your wet pussy taking him was so beautifully vulgar it made his back arch.
You put your head back. "Oh Gods..."
"Yeah, I'm fucking you good, huh?"
"S-so good."
“Tell me you're mine. Tell me this pussy is mine.”
“Giyuu, please… I’m so close.” 
He stopped thrusting, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as your muscles clenched around him. “No, that’s not what I said. Tell me you’re mine… say I'm yours. Those words, or you don’t get to cum.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, out of your mind with desire. “I’m yours.”
“Good… now, the next time someone is flirting with you, I want you to tell them that, okay? I want you to tell them you belong to me.”
You nodded, desperation cracking your voice. "Yes."
He leaned down, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you. "Who do you belong to?"
"You."
"Who fucks your pussy better than anyone else ever could?"
"You do, Giyuu."
He smirked, thrusting hard into you and pulling a cry from your lips. His fingers gripped your hips, pulling you onto him with all his hashira strength. "Good. Fucking. Girl."
Your muscles pulsed around his cock as you came apart, your hands grasping at him as he kept on fucking you throughout your orgasm. He wasn't much further behind you, pulling out and shooting hot ropes of cum all over your thighs and your belly, staggering as he rode the waves of his release.
As he came back down to earth he pulled you upright, his lips crashing against yours as he gripped the back of your neck. "I'm gonna remind you who you belong to tomorrow," he whispered. "And then every day after, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. "I might have forgotten by this afternoon though. You might have to drill it into me."
Giyuu laughed, cupping your face in his hands. "Deal."
Yes... this was much better.
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takenbypeter · 11 months ago
Text
Chocolate Fixes Everything
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Willy Wonka x reader
Words: 1179
Sick fic for Willy Wonka, made this cause I’m sick again and I’ve become sick so often these past few months 🙃
Accepting requests for Willy only right now send me any requests plz I’m on a Wonka high rn
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You couldn’t believe it. Your throat was itchy, your nose was sore. You could barely get past fifteen minutes without a horrendous cough flying out from the back of your throat. Your nose was stuffed and if it wasn’t stuffed, it was runny, which is why you kept a box of tissues close by. It wasn’t the fact you were sick that you couldnt believe, it was the fact that you were sick only a mere weeks ago and here you were, ill again. Typically this didn’t happen to you but recently it seemed like your immune system was against you, (maybe it was because of all the chocolate you had eaten recently but who knows).
While many of your friends had got the message of your sickness it seems like Willy wasn’t one of them.
“You wouldn’t believe the idea that just popped into my head!” Wonka shouted as he practically tossed your door open, your eyes shot wide as you suddenly became fully alert at the abrupt activity.
Willy on the other hand walked right past your bed which was positioned on the opposite side of the door, with his mind clearly focused on whatever his new idea was.
“Noodle and I were discussing and she had just reminded me of—“ his words were cut off and his upbeat pacing came to a halt when he finally realized you were still in bed.
His expressions seemed to relay curious, then sadness as his facial lines deepened. Without missing a beat he pulled up the wooden chair nearby. “What happened? You look horrible.”
A knowing smile tugged at your lips while you pulled your blanket further to your chin, “gee thanks, that’s just what everyone wants to hear when they’re sick.”
“You’re sick!? No that can’t be, I remember you being sick only two weeks ago.”
You nod acknowledging the fact while his face shifts into surprised? Or maybe excitement…? Stunned? It seemed like all of the above.
“Well you’re in luck,” he exclaimed scooting himself back towards the desk across the room, setting up his small briefcase factory on the table, “because I have something that’ll make you feel right as rain,” he stops tinkering with his case for a brief moment to shoot you a mischevious look, “chocolate rain.”
You rolled your eyes while he turned right around whipping a concoction together.
“Willy, I love your enthusiasm but chocolate can’t just make everything feel better.”
“Says who? Who says?”
“Medical doctors that’s who!”
“Oh doctors schmoctors,” he waves the concern off.
“Chocolate does fix everything. And this isn’t just regular old chocolate.”
Attention grabbed, you watch peculiarly as he pushes buttons and pours things in different areas of his case.
“Last time you got sick you felt awful for practically a week and a half, and I started making this since then,” his briefcase makes whirring noises as it gets to work mixing the ingredients. “Now let me ask you, what do you typically take when you have a sore throat?”
“A spoonful of honey with lemon?” You ask, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for, I mean many people do a variety of things once sick, but you took a shot in the dark anyway.
“Absolutely. But that feeling only lasts for a short time. But with this candy I designed, it lasts far, far longer.”
The machine stops and out pops a single candy, shaped simple and evenly square, as green as a lime. And with that candy in hand he returns back to you across the room.
“This is a Choc-well, because as soon as you eat it you’ll feel well,” you gave him an odd look, “the name hasn’t been hashed out yet.”
He motions for you to open your hand and he drops the small piece in your palm, to which you look at suspiciously. “It’s chocolate?”
“Yes. The outer layer is a milk chocolate, while the inside is a honey like substance from the Beezle-midge. And then inside that, is a tiniest drop of twang from a lime.”
“Beezle-midge?”
“It’s a small type of insect that usually travels in groups, except when separated and given the right incentive it secretes honey.”
You winced grossed out by the fact, “ew.”
“It’s good, trust me. Now try it.”
With one final motivating look from the boy you took the chocolate and popped it in your mouth.
“If you want it to really work suck on the chocolate, don’t chew,” he instructed just as you were about to take the first bite. But you did as told enjoying the chocolate. Little by little the chocolate layer disappeared into your mouth as the honey started to make its way to the front and Willy watched on as you ate the delicacy.
After a few moments of honey came the tiniest twang of flavor just as he said and just like that the candy was gone.
“So, how does it feel?” He asks and for a moment you’re not sure what he’s asking for.
“How does your throat feel?”
You oh-ed before closing your mouth in thought. The taste was on its way out but your throat felt much better, it no longer hurt from soreness and you didn’t feel any itchiness no or scratchiness.
“It feels…normal! Like it doesn’t even hurt. That’s amazing! How does that happen?”
“The honey from the Beezle-midge as it’s going down puts a small coat along your throat which lasts practically a whole day.”
“That’s splendid Willy, truly astounding!” You praise sitting up in bed. True you still had your other symptoms but at least you didn’t have to worry about your throat or coughing for now. Willy displayed a bashful smile at the compliments that he took to heart.
“Why didn’t you give this to me last time?” You asked curious as to why he just let you suffer, surely it couldn’t be just cause he forgot.
“Well actually…” he tilts his head back and forth before continuing, “you being sick last time is kind of the inspiration for it.”
This was not a new thing, Willy used many different people and experiences as inspiration, but he suddenly felt so shyly in telling you about yourself being his inspiration. Why? Was it because he didn’t know how you were going to react? He knew you would react well of course, you always did when it came to his creations.
“You made this…” you pointed to air essentially now that the chocolate was gone, “because of me?”
He nodded modestly, “last time you got sick, you missed out on a lot, and we missed you a lot in the factory.”
You grinned a toothy grin, “aww that’s sweet, and this chocolate is so cool!”
At your exclaim he felt relief, “good, I’m glad it’s working.”
That made you pause, “glad it’s working? What does that mean? You haven’t tested it before?” You asked worried.
“That’s not what I meant, geez. You do that one time,” he mumbled as he went back to his small briefcase factory.
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spaghettixdemon · 1 month ago
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J Stands for more words than one PT.1
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“While introducing his new girlfriend to the team, JJ is automatically confronted with her feelings for Spencer when they begin to get in the way of things"
DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.
Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
This was originally in my Google Doc but I seem to have lost access to it :( SO I am re-writing it! (I will definitely add more chapters bc omg this is long)
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"Alright anndd finally done!" Emily turned to JJ, clapping her hands together and beaming. Today was a paperwork day, and everyone had been working until the late hours. "These reports are killing me...I've been on the same one the majority of the day..." JJ spoke to Emily with a sigh and a slight smirk playing on her lips. Yes, JJ had been stuck on the same case most of the day, but it wasn't just the amount of work, no. That wasn't the only reason her day was moving so slowly.
Right across from her desk, in perfect view, was Spencer Reid- their little resident genius. His legs were crossed in his office chair, his curly hair fell in front of his eyes, and his long, slender fingers traced down the written report, scanning every word and spreading it within seconds effortlessly. JJ had always been close with Spencer- because of their tight-knit team, their ages, and of course, the butterflies she would get around him. They were the two closets in age at the BAU, so maybe that was part of the reasoning behind her crush, but honestly, she just thought he was very attractive.
So earlier today, when Spencer was talking on his phone nonstop, JJ was confused. Spencer was not a fan of technology, thinking back on how it took Spencer literal years to finally sign up for an email address. So, whatever was keeping Spencer on speed dial on the other line clearly didn't bother him too much. JJ would sneak glances towards her coworker hourly, taking in his body language and how he seemed to be head over heels. He would fidget and spin in his office chair as someone talked to him, he had a faint blush on his cheeks, and a smile plastered on his face. In all actuality, she'd never seen Spencer look so dopey- maybe he truly was just happy right now, but the emotions on his face surprised her.
"Hey lover-boy, what's going on over here?" JJ shot her head down, burying her face in her work. It was Derek who popped the question already on JJ's mind. Derek crossed his arms and leaned against Spencer's desk as Spencer looked up at Derek. Rolling his eyes and hanging up the phone, Spencer set the phone down on his desk. "Was that a girl on the other end of the line? I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to pick up a call at work." Both men laughed as Spencer grew a little quiet, sheepishly shrugging. "I mean- yeah, actually, you're right for once." Spencer laughed as an expression of excitement and shock plastered onto Derek's. "Wow really?" He laughed, a little in disbelief "Congrats man! That's awesome!"
JJ watched as the two guys hugged and discussed Spencer's new girlfriend. Weirdly, JJ felt a pang in her chest of embarrassment...or more like frustration. Why? She wasn't sure. JJ could read anyone within minutes, but she could never read her own emotions that well.
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Days had passed, and work was pretty much back to normal. Normal meaning JJ wasn't constantly hearing about Spencer's new girlfriend, who he adored so much. It was cute, yeah, and she did feel happy for the man and his newfound love, but it would get pretty repetitive after a while. Derek and Penelope, in particular, would not let up on the subject. It was cute when Penelope giggled and twirled her hair when asking about this girl, but the way Spencer would drop information on her so easily was frustrating.
Penelope beamed, ecstatic over all this new news. Then, looking at Derek, she gasped and clapped her hands together. "You should bring her here! We could all meet her it would be so nice..!" Spencer looked a little uneasy. The few times his relationship did start getting this serious, work would interfere and often kill the relationship. Though, Derek backed up Penelope and agreed it would be fun.
"I don't know guys...That might be a little intense..." JJ heard this and thought over the idea in her head. Meeting the girl Spencer was so enamored by might be interesting...to say the least. She looked up and smiled at the three talking. "No Spence you should totally bring her in! I want to meet this girl!" Spencer gave JJ a hesitant look, visibly thinking over the interaction in his head. He slowly smiled and rolled his eyes, looking at the three before him. "Ok Ok..I'll bring up the idea and if she's cool with it, I'll bring her here next Friday"
Penelope and Derek cheered while JJ sat there, smiling quietly. She clapped her hands together and sighed "Amazing! I can't wait".
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The week that followed that conversation wasn't a pleasant one. The team had traveled out of state to work on a pretty gruesome case- Spencer, in particular, had a rough time during the case. He should be used to the horrible feelings that came with the job, but it was never really easy dealing with death so often.
The team had thankfully made it back to base Friday, and everyone was exhausted. They spent the day quietly filling out paperwork and trying to unwind as they worked into the early hours of the night. Around 7pm, Spencer got a call. JJ noticed this in particular because of how eager he was to answer the phone. A small smile appeared on his face, and the faint blush was back. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, hanging up the call with a simple goodbye.
Spencer looked around at his friends as the smile on his face grew. "My Girlfriend is apparently downstairs in the lobby! ...I was thinking of bringing her up is everyone ok with that?" The office was suddenly filled with energy again, and everyone seemed to wake up. JJ in particular, shot her head up and looked at Spencer, a little shocked. She had completely forgotten this would be happening...She made eye contact with Spencer and looked a little hesitant as she spoke up. "um...yeah that would be great..!"
"Yes, PLEASE bring her up! I need some fun to distract me from all this work." Penelope popped her head out of her office as she spoke to Spencer. Spencer looked a little confused by what JJ had said but smiled and nodded anyway. He slowly made his way towards the elevator, a bit of pep in his step.
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Everyone in the office had quickly wrapped up what they had been working on and made their way to the office cubicles to meet this girl Spencer was so into. Penelope pulled up a chair next to JJ and beamed. "Are you excited to meet her?" JJ...still felt very conflicted. Just earlier that week, when they had been solving the case, She was staying in the hotel room next to Spencer's. She thought about how she ran into him shirtless and wearing sweatpants. He apologized and made his way inside his room, but she felt so conflicted.
She wasn't upset that he was shirtless...definitely not...but something about getting caught off guard like that made her blush. She remembered the feeble nerd she used to work with. He was in his mid-twenties and looked so new to the BAU world. Now, the man she saw earlier that week and today was a bit different. He had toughened up more and was a bit more muscular- not to a Derek level, but he definitely wasn't feeble anymore.
"Something like that" JJ mumbled to Penelope, a faint blush on her face. Penelope was about to question JJ, just as an elevator 'dinging' noise saved her. Everyone's attention was on the elevator and who was inside.
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deunmiu-dessie · 8 months ago
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ⅷ▬ ⁽ 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓃 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : unedited, plot, alien/human, fluff, nim'xen is a simp, he falls first and then falls harder. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : no smut, but! a cute little unfinished one-shot of mine.
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: on the way home from the store, the unthinkable happens.
꒰male!alien ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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“Breaking News: Massive Asteroid Comes Dangerously Close to Earth, Scientists Unaware Until Hours Later.
In a stunning turn of events, a colossal asteroid, previously known as ZTFoDxQ but now identified as Asteroid QG, narrowly missed colliding with Earth. The planet-sized asteroid made its closest-known approach to our planet on Sunday at 12:08 a.m. EDT, coming within a mere 1,830 miles. This remarkable event marks the closest asteroid flyby ever recorded, where the celestial object managed to survive the encounter unscathed, as confirmed by NASA.
However, the surprises didn't end there. Just this afternoon at 1:00 p.m., reports have emerged that a fragment of the asteroid has broken off and penetrated Earth's atmosphere. The exact location of impact is currently being evacuated as a precautionary measure. 
 Scientists are scrambling to analyze the data and understand how such a massive asteroid managed to come so close to Earth without being detected until hours later. The lack of awareness has raised concerns about the effectiveness of current asteroid detection systems and the potential risks posed by near-Earth objects.
NASA and other space agencies around the world are now working to improve their monitoring and detection capabilities to prevent similar surprises in the future. The incident has also sparked discussions about the need for increased funding and resources for asteroid detection and deflection efforts.
As the world watches in awe and relief at the near miss, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the potential dangers lurking in space and the importance of continued vigilance in monitoring the skies for potential threats. Stay tuned for further updates on this developing story.” 
3 months later
“Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”
Interrupting your peeling, you raised your eyes from the bowl of potatoes, freezing the peeler in your hand. You cast a frustrated glance at her, your annoyance thinly veiled behind a strained smile. You were already handling most of the cooking for the evening, so what more could she want from you?
Interpreting your insincere smile as a signal of agreement, she resumed her task of tending to the bubbling broth on the stove, deftly chopping the carrots and watching them plunge into the savory liquid with a satisfying plop. "Your sister's going on a trip tomorrow and I totally spaced on getting her food. She likes turkey right? I'll just throw together a sandwich for her." 
A soft snicker escaped you as the peeler slipped from your hand and plunged into the water-filled bowl. You shifted your attention towards her, trying to decipher if she was genuinely serious or not. Yet, as you locked eyes with her, she responded with an arched eyebrow and an inquisitive grin.
"Jess has a poultry allergy, Mom." 
The woman paused briefly, inhaling deeply to gather her thoughts. As she glanced up at you, she shifted her hip to the side. Her apologetic expression seemed somewhat contrived. "Of course, I should have remembered. I'm sorry, honey." 
It was understandable that the woman might eventually forget. She wasn't the one who hurriedly took Jess to the hospital when she had her first experience with it, she wasn't the one who remained by the girl's side day and night, eagerly waiting for her to regain consciousness. But you were. You were Jess's first in everything. You had always been there for her, so it's only natural that the bond between the two of you grew strong. You knew all about her allergies, her preferences, her school crushes— you felt like more of a mother to her than her biological one.
 "Whatever. I'll pack her lunch." 
You swivel the chair and slide off of it. "The blue card, right?" As she nods her head absentmindedly, almost as if she's in a daze, you leave the kitchen with a frown etched on your face.
Snatching your keys from the hook, you hastily slide into your gym shoes, relieved that you hadn't bothered changing your clothes. You stand at the bottom of the stairs and shift your weight. "Jess! I'm going to the store, do you want anything?!" You delve into your mom's purse, sifting through the chaotic contents until you locate her wallet and retrieve the blue card food stamp card.
   After a brief silence, her bedroom door swings open and she rushes towards the railing, a bright smile on her face. " Ice cream? Shark week came and I've been really craving strawberry ice cream."  You give a nod and quickly retrieve your jacket from the closet. "Do you need any money for the trip tomorrow? I can take some out on my way back." 
The young girl shakes her head, her eyes filled with adoration. You raise an eyebrow but still nod in understanding. Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you give it a gentle shake. "Text me if you need anything, but be quick about it." Without waiting for her response, you swiftly unlock the door and make your way onto the porch.
The sky is adorned with a delicate blend of pink and deep purple, gradually blending into the mysterious darkness of the night. A gentle breeze carries a subtle chill, but you embrace it without a word, wrapping your jacket tightly around your being. Swiftly, you navigate towards your vehicle, unlocking the door and sinking into the plush leather seat. A faint hint of smoke dances in the air, causing your nose to crinkle in response. Without hesitation, you lower the window, letting it air out.
As the smell dissipates you roll up the window and rub your hands together from the cold.
 With a flick of a switch, the heat begins to flow, gradually filling the space and caressing your cheeks with a gentle warmth. The jacket you wear, once a shield against the chill, now threatens to make you feel almost too warm. With a contented smile, you leave the driveway behind and glide swiftly down the street, embraced by the cozy ambiance within.
 As you embark on the drive, the radio remains silent, allowing your thoughts to drift away. Your thumb dances lightly on the steering wheel, lost in a world of its own. Deep down, you had already made up your mind to have Jess by your side once you left. There was no way your parents could take care of her, especially with what you've heard today. 
 Your job was well-paying and you had saved up to rent and secure a two-bedroom apartment at an astonishingly reasonable cost, despite its pristine condition. Nestled within a delightful community, the apartment stood conveniently close to Jess' school. Naturally, obtaining their consent would be imperative, yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly embark on a legal journey to assert your rights. Yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly them to court. 
  You wanted a better life for Jess, you wanted the rest of her remaining years of growth to unfold effortlessly. Your affection for her was so profound that witnessing her spiral, just as you had, while residing with your parents was simply inconceivable.
Startled by a gentle tap on your window, you were momentarily transported from the reverie you had been lost in while sitting in the Kroger's parking lot. Your mind had been wandering, lost in a sea of thoughts. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly shifted your gaze towards the source of the sound and cautiously opened the window, allowing a sliver of the outside world to seep in.
 She was an elderly lady, much older than you, with a look of homelessness about her. Her shirt was stained and torn, her jeans in tatters, and her face covered in grime. You hesitated for a moment before offering her a warm smile and rolling down your window just a tad further.
  "Hi, do you need something?"
As her murmurs dance in disarray, fragments of words manage to intertwine, and in a fleeting moment, a shiver cascades down your spine. " You're. . . Die. . . Tonight."  
Her expression is vacant, her gaze distant, and the fidgety way she picks at her cuticles hints at her unease. Even though you feel a sense of discomfort, a strong urge to leave the parking lot doesn't overcome you. Instead, you reach into the glove compartment, retrieve a crumpled $20 bill, and gently pass it through the window.
 You recoil in shock as she snatches it out of your hand, making sure to quickly wobble off. With your heart racing, you roll up the window and sink into the headrest, trying to soothe your jangled nerves. What the hell was that about? The only conclusion you can draw is that she must be a deranged old woman.
After finally catching your breath, you unlock your car door and slide out, card in hand. Gently inserting the blue plastic into the slot at the back of your phone case, you carefully place it in your pocket. The night had fallen, and you were eager to return to the comfort of your home.
You took a cart from the parking lot racks and pushed it inside, feeling the chill of the air as you entered the store. "Hmm, what should I pick up for Jess?"
   "Jess! Mom! I'm home!" You set the bags onto the dining room table and wait there with a cocked hip. Within moments, Jess emerges from her room and descends the stairs in a flurry. A gentle smile adorns your face as you present the tub of delectable ice cream, relishing in the delightful sound of her joyful squeal.
  "Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" With a grateful smile, she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek and pulls you into a warm embrace. She then heads to the kitchen, excitedly searching through the drawer for a spoon. Your mother, already present in the kitchen, peeks out from behind the corner.
You notice her face contorting into a slight frown paired with a gentle smile. You recognize that look instantly, so you grab the car keys and smoothly slide the card off the table. Her eyes soften with regret as she passes you a tiny list. "It's just a few things, the ingredients for Jakiya's birthday cake that slipped my mind. Do you mind picking them up?"
   You raised an eyebrow, lips pursed. "I don't necessarily have a choice, mom." Your mom huffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a simple yes or no question, don't be difficult." Despite your strained relationship with your mom, you made an effort to avoid arguments when Jess was present.
Speaking of which, Jess had stopped rummaging in the drawer, body strung tight like a bow. Your gaze softened as you released a weary, deep sigh. You were completely fed up with your parents' nonsense, but Jess shouldn't have to witness the constant fighting between the three of you.
With a gentle nibble on the tender flesh of your cheek, you gracefully acknowledged your mother's request, enveloping yourself in the comforting embrace of your jacket. "Sure mom, what do you need?"
A smile of gratitude adorned her face as she pushed a small list towards you. You grinned wryly as you snatched it, then swiftly headed towards the door. The sun had long set, plunging the world into darkness. The street lights flickered weakly, barely illuminating the empty streets.
 Jess gazes at you as you prepare to depart, smiling guiltily.  With a playful roll of your eyes, you silently express your affection, mouthing the words 'I love you' and blowing a tender kiss in her direction. Her nose scrunches up adorably, but her face lights up with a radiant smile as she reciprocates the gesture. As you steal a glance to the side, you catch sight of your mother observing the exchange, her eyes filled with a bittersweet longing.
 "Text me if there's something else, I'm not going back out later." The words were directed towards Jess, but she dismissed them with a wave of her hand and reached for a large spoon from the drawer. Stepping outside, you were greeted by the refreshing embrace of the cool, crisp air, causing you to release a frustrated sigh. The sound of your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your pocket, pressing a button to unlock the car doors. With a swift motion, you hopped into the front seat and firmly closed the door behind you.
 You wait impatiently as the engine sputters before shutting off. Resting your head on the steering wheel, you attempt a few more times before surrendering. Frustrated, you hit the dashboard and recline in your seat. If you were to go inside and inform your mom that the car wouldn't start, she'd make you walk anyway.
With a sigh escaping your lips, you swing open the door and slide from the seat locking the doors behind you. Embarking on your journey towards Kroger, you find yourself humming a gentle melody, adding a touch of serenity to your brisk pace towards the supermarket. The night envelops you in a tranquil embrace, yet the houses you pass by are alive with vibrant activity. As you stroll along, your gaze wanders towards the windows, offering glimpses into the lives unfolding within.
    Some families are cooking while others are at the table already eating. Happiness danced in the air, casting its enchanting spell upon every corner. Yet, as you observed this idyllic scene, a twinge of envy tugged at your heartstrings. Growing up, you yearned for such a blissful atmosphere that seemed to elude you. At the tender age of nine, your parents bestowed upon you the title of maturity, deeming you wise beyond your years. And while, yes, you possessed a certain level of wisdom, it did not equate to being capable enough to care for your baby sister.
 It fell upon you to fetch Jess from daycare and ensure a safe journey back home for the two of you. It was your responsibility to prepare meals for both of you after school. The weight of raising your four-year-old sister and yourself rested solely on your shoulders, as there was no one else to do it for you. Over time, the bond between both of you and your parents had weakened. They were seldom present, and when they were, disagreements ensued. You made an effort to keep the arguments hushed whenever Jess was around. She often blamed herself for the strained relationship between you, your mom, and your dad.
As you stroll along the dimly lit street, a sudden hush falls upon your heart as the echo of footsteps reaches your ears. Time seems to stand still, and for a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, you cling to a glimmer of hope, imagining that those footsteps might belong to a passerby, innocently treading the same path as you.
They draw nearer, their footsteps quickening. You swallow your trepidation, nearly stumbling as a man's voice pierces the air. "Excuse me!" His voice resonates with a deep, thunderous timbre, sending shivers down your spine. You flinch, but press on, hastening towards the bustling street where the glow of passing cars illuminates the pavement and towering structures. Towards the sanctuary of safety.
 "Hey! I'm talking to you." 
  You're almost there. You start to jog a little but they've closed in a bit too much. Their presence looms closer, their energy palpable. Just as panic threatens to consume you, you part your lips to release a piercing scream, only to find that silence has enveloped the air.
A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of a bush, followed by a brief, hushed cry that fades into silence. The chirping of crickets has ceased, leaving a stillness that envelops the world. With uncertainty, you glance behind you and collapse to the ground as the two men have vanished. Gazing up at the night sky, the reflection in your eyes, you offer silent gratitude to whoever intervened and saved you in that fleeting moment.
   You stand up and you resume your journey, eventually arriving at the bustling street. Though your legs falter when you notice the woman from earlier sitting on a bus stop bench. The impact of the $20 becomes evident as she savors a warm, nourishing meal, and her once weary eyes seem to be less bloodshot. 
 A part of you hesitates to pass by her, yet you dismiss that fleeting sense of unease and march towards her. It appears that she is also cautious of your presence, as her head swiftly turns towards you—almost as if she is just as cognizant of you as you are of her. Her gaze drifts beyond your shoulder and her eyes widen, a sheer terror reflecting in them. She abandons her meal, rises with some effort, clutches onto her bag, and hastens away.
Your brows knit together and you cast a glance over your shoulder, a whirlwind of bewilderment dancing in your gaze. There is no one lingering in the shadows and the surroundings appear undisturbed. Returning your attention to her path, you discover that she has vanished into thin air. A sense of unease settles within you as you resume your journey towards the store, diligently keeping a watchful eye on the space behind you.
The parking lot is nearly empty when you leave the store. Alongside you, a stream of tired employees bid farewell to their workday, their footsteps echoing in harmony with your own. Amid this scene, a message from Jess illuminates your phone, informing you that dinner has already been prepared. However, a bittersweet note lingers as their parents, driven by impatience, have chosen to indulge in the meal without your presence.
      The girl had put you some food up and would eat with you when you got home. You tell her that it's fine and for her to go to sleep. She responds back with the middle finger emoji. You let out a soft laugh and gently tuck your phone away, resuming your journey back home. In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate the invaluable presence of your sister. She is the unwavering support that keeps you grounded, the guiding light that helps you navigate through life's challenges. It is because of her that you find the strength to persevere, even in the face of your parents' constant demands.
Raising Jess, despite its challenges, has molded you into the person you are now. A person who is dependable, always on time, patient, and strong-willed. You possess the remarkable ability to adapt swiftly and thrive in any endeavor you undertake. If your parents hadn't entrusted you with the responsibility of raising your sister, none of these remarkable qualities would have blossomed within you. Although it may be bittersweet, raising Jess has truly been a hidden blessing, concealed in the depths of life's mysteries.
As you hurriedly make your way home, you take a shortcut and find yourself in the dimly lit parking lot of a mysterious barber shop. Instantly, a wave of regret washes over you as you stumble upon a group of men engaged in some clandestine activity. Panic sets in, and you quickly decide to retreat. However, fate has other plans for you. In your haste, you accidentally collide with a solid chest, causing you to freeze in your tracks. 
When you gather the courage to look up, you are met with a sight that leaves you breathless. Standing before you is a towering figure, adorned with intricate tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. His pierced septum and eyebrow only add to his intimidating presence, and his annoyed expression sends shivers down your spine. As his eyebrows furrow, you can't help but do a double take at his striking attractiveness.
 "Watch where you're going, woman." You nod in agreement and attempt to move aside, but a member of the group lets out a disrespectful whistle. Your body tenses as you try to keep walking, only to have your wrist grabbed by another individual. "Where do you think you're going? You're such a pretty little thing."  
"I just want to get home. Please, let me go." Your attempt at a stern tone falters as your voice quivers and a hiccup escapes. Laughter fills the air, causing you to shrink back as if confronting a pack of wolves. Six of them. 
   The mysterious figure you collided with earlier firmly grasps the man who is restraining your wrist. " I don't have all fucking night Tyler. Either give me my shit, or I'm going to blow your brains across this goddamn lot." 
The atmosphere suddenly becomes hushed, as if time itself holds its breath. A distant memory resurfaces, a conversation shared with your sister, where you both playfully pondered about how you would handle such a situation. Laughter filled the air as you jokingly mentioned pepper spray and karate moves. But now, in this very moment, fear grips your heart, rendering you utterly petrified.
    Tyler releases his grip on you, causing a small, trembling breath to escape your lips. "Jesus, Dom. I was just joking," he says nervously, glancing at his friends for support. A few chuckle while others remain silent.
 Dom gazes at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Go. Before I change my mind." Despite the stern tone, there is a softness in his eyes that reassures you. You thank him profusely and speed walk away from the group. 
The moment you thought you were making headway, the piercing screams and the thunderous gunshots shatter the night's calmness. Time seems to stand still as the world around you falls into an eerie silence once again. With a lump in your throat, you quicken your pace, feeling the weight of tears welling up in your eyes.
This couldn't possibly be the end for you. It simply couldn't. You still had a duty to care for your sister, to provide her with a better life than you ever had. You longed to shield her from your parents, but how could you do that if you were no longer alive?
   As you sprint away, tightly holding onto the groceries, a gasp escapes your lips before a hand covers your mouth, guiding you into a hidden bush. The struggle feels like the most intense challenge you've ever faced. Through a tiny gap, you catch a glimpse of your groceries left behind on the pavement.
  " Shh, little female." 
As if by magic, a wave of calm washes over you the moment you recognize the familiar presence of 'Dom'. Tears cascade down your cheeks, and you gently rest your hands upon his, feeling the rhythmic beats of your heart resonating in your ears. As you glance through the foliage, a gasp escapes your lips upon seeing 'Tyler' once again. Yet, he appears far from human this time. His complexion is a mesmerizing shade of deep purple, and his face is adorned with four fiery red eyes and a menacing set of frothing, razor-sharp teeth.
His mouth oozes with saliva, which cascades onto the solid ground and creates a sizzling noise. It was acidic. Dom embraces you tightly, his free hand ascending. In his grasp, a peculiar gun emerges, unlike anything you have ever laid eyes upon. With precision, he positions the barrel's tip against the peephole, his finger gently caressing the trigger. As the gun powers up, a radiant orange glow illuminates its entire frame, casting an ethereal aura. The release is nearly soundless, as a beam pierces through 'Tyler's forehead. 
He moves away from you, emerging from the bushes, taking your stunned body in his arms and lifting you up gently. Running his fingers through his hair, the white locks falling smoothly into place.
As your gaze meets his, your mortal eyes widen in awe. He appears changed, yet undeniably captivating in a strange, otherworldly manner. His complexion is a deep shade of grey, adorned with intricate tattoos in an unfamiliar script. Some markings are white, while others emit a haunting red glow. His hair, too, is a ghostly white, almost pulsating with life. His eyes, a cloudy white, give the impression of blindness, yet two more eyes rest just below the main set. The piercings on his nose and eyebrow remain, adding to his enigmatic allure.
 You take a step back, but he gives you a piercing look that freezes you in place "What are you?" Without a word, he hesitates for a moment before taking your hand and leading you away. "Where are we going?" Your voice trembles with fear. Dom halts and releases your hand. He gestures towards the lifeless body.  "Do you see that? Hundreds of those things have already touched Terra, 3 earth months ago." 
  You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. The deep timber of his voice brings you back to reality. "They proliferate with astonishing speed, ceaselessly multiplying. Your planet is infested, we're only here to see if it was preventable. We were too late." 
As he looks down upon you, his eyes soften, embracing the sight of your trembling figure.  "Our ultimate aim is to gather a chosen few among humanity and escort you to a hospitable planet, so that you can once again repopulate."
You shake your head slowly, taking a step back, "I cannot abandon my sister here." Dom releases a fierce growl, pointing his gun towards you and firing. The beam narrowly misses you, striking another monster in the head.
"Make it quick."
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In a flurry of movement, you dart into the house, the groceries slipping from your grasp and finding their place on the table in a haphazard manner. Dom follows silently, his presence masked by a cloaking device that renders him invisible to the naked eye. 
Your heart races within your chest, a wild stallion galloping against the confines of its cage, as you ascend the stairs with reckless abandon, the sound of your footsteps reverberating loudly against the wooden steps. Bursting into Jess' room, a wave of relief washes over you, a grateful prayer whispered under your breath. Taking a seat on her bed, your smile quivers with a mixture of emotions.
Her expression is one of bewilderment and a touch of fear. Tenderly, you sweep a strand of hair away from her face. "Do me a favor, my sweet girl. Pack some clothes, but pack light. I'll explain on the way but do it quickly." Jess has always trusted your decisions without hesitation, and she won't begin to question them now. She swiftly jumps out of bed and retrieves a bookbag from her wardrobe, the very same one you both use during your camping adventures.
"We don't have much time, little female." His tone isn't rushing in the slightest but you quickly head to your room and grab your book bag. You gather only the essentials - tough denim, comfortable shirts, reliable footwear, empty notebooks, and writing tools.
Jess rushed into the room, packing faster than anticipated, much to your relief. You take her hand and guide her out, but suddenly a loud crash interrupts. Both of you scream and huddle in the corner. Dom reveals himself and fires a shot, striking the massive creature in the shoulder. Its deafening roar rattles the house and you hear your parents' heavy footsteps approaching. Just as the monster lunges towards you, Dom takes aim and shoots it in the head. Neon blood splatters the wall, causing it to slowly dissolve.
With wide, frightened eyes, Jess looks up at you as you cling to her protectively. Your parents step into the room, dressed in their robes, shocked expressions on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them. Dom pays no attention to them, instead turning his gaze towards you and giving you a once-over.
" Are you ready?" 
 With a subtle nod, you accept his outstretched hand, intertwining your fingers with his while ensuring your younger sister is safe by your side. The first to break the silence is your father, his voice laced with bewilderment. "What the hell is happening?!" His eyes fixate on you, as if you hold the key to unraveling this enigma. Disregarding his inquiry, Dom strides past, leading the three of you down the staircase. Your parents trail behind, bombarding you with a flurry of questions. Despite their persistent curiosity, you make a conscious effort to block out their voices, but your mother intervenes by snatching Jess away from your side.
With a sudden movement, the girl breaks free and falls into your waiting arms. Dom brandishes his weapon, his expression icy and resolute. Your mother retreats, seeking solace in the arms of your father.
 Dom takes the lead, while the two of you follow closely. Observing Jess, he sees her slight build and anticipates she may have difficulty keeping pace. However, he remains utterly unfazed, not a hint of complaint escaping his lips. In a surprising display of strength, he effortlessly lifts her, prompting her to let out a startled yelp, and places her book bag on his shoulder.
" We need to move fast. Keep up."
 As you secure your book bag and inhale deeply, a rush of adrenaline courses through you. Dom sprints ahead, weapon in hand. The sound of breaking glass startles you, disrupting the tranquility of the surroundings you had just passed. The anguished cries of parents and children tug at your heartstrings, but your focus remains on Jess.
 The length of time you've been running is a blur, your legs now numb from the effort. Nevertheless, you persist, matching his pace as best as you can. Jess has succumbed to sleep, worn out from the night's adventures. You grin wearily at her and give yourself a firm slap on the cheeks, determined to stay awake.
 Dom is pleasantly surprised by how far you've been able to sprint, appreciating your resilience and commitment to your kin. As the three of you reach a vast clearing, he gradually slows down and halts. You catch up to him, panting heavily, with sweat glistening on your skin. You look at him, curious as to why he's stopped. Dom raises his arm and utters something in his native tongue. The gauntlet beeps and responds to him in kind.
The once vacant clearing now teems with life as your gaze is captivated by the majestic arrival of a ship. Its sheer grandeur overwhelms you, compelling you to take a step back. Towering above, the ship's entrance demands you to tilt your head back. 
As Dom guides you onward, the hatch swings open, inviting you to step onto its surface. A warm welcome awaits you from a gathering of his companions, each adorned in vibrant hues, yet all sharing the distinctive feature of milky white eyes. Drawing nearer to Dom, you find solace in the proximity of your sister. They engage in conversation briefly, before the hatch seals shut and Dom secures his firearm in its holster. " You will be safe here. The ship will take off tomorrow night when my people come with more of your kind."
  He leads the two of you to a room, one big bed placed in the middle of it accompanied by a smattering of curious contraptions. The walls exude an ethereal shade of slate grey metal, while a petite window graces the space just above a cozy sitting area. Tenderly, Dom settles Jess upon the bed and places the bag on a nearby table. He looks towards you and motions forward. "Rest."
As he moves towards the room's exit, you seize his hand. Your eyes betray a lack of trust, not in him, but in the very ship and its occupants. Dom stares at you, his emotions veiled, and you struggle to hold back tears. " Will you come back? Are you leaving us?" 
 In Dom's world, the idea of a female requiring reassurance and assistance was unfamiliar territory. The females on his planet, known as sîmalę, were formidable warriors, often occupying positions of power surpassing those of the males. Dom found himself fortunate to have gotten his position. [ Female¹]
He reminds himself that you are a human hailing from the terra planet. The concept of hunting or encountering creatures that did not resemble pets or the animals confined within the cages of a zoo was foreign to you. Dom gently releases your hand from his grasp, his gaze emanating reassurance despite the vacancy in his expression." Sleep, little female and this one will be back soon."  
Observing as you reluctantly nod, you make your way towards the bed. With tenderness, you remove your sister's shoes and tuck her in, finding solace in this simple act of nurturing. Your savior exits the room, leaving you to collapse onto your knees, tears cascading from your eyes. The events of today crash upon you with the intensity of a thunderstorm, and you come to the realization that it is now solely you and your sister. A small part of you regrets not bringing your parents along, but you have convinced yourself that it was the wisest choice.
 " What's wrong?"
You swiftly brush away the tears with the back of your hand. Gazing at your sister, you grasp her hand gently in yours. Her eyes hold a hint of doubt as you shake your head. It was crucial to show Jess that you were the pillar of strength, assuring her safety and control.
  "It's nothing, I'm just exhausted. Let's head to sleep okay?" Jess nods, revealing the empty side of the bed for you to rest on. You kick off your shoes and wrap yourself in the comforter. Jess joins you promptly, nestling beside you to provide warmth. The lights recognize your need for rest and dim down.
  "I love you." 
You grin and hold her hand in yours. "I love you too."
—-
The gentle murmur of voices pulls you from your slumber, but Jess is no longer by your side, leaving you feeling a sense of emptiness. Your eyes gradually open, taking in your surroundings. A sleepy yawn escapes your lips as you sit up in bed. The voices fall silent, only to be replaced by Jess' voice, beckoning you to join the conversation.
"Are you finally awake?"
A slight thumbs up is the only response Jess receives before you run your hands over your eyes, dispelling the drowsiness. "Dom says that the others will be back soon, in two hours. Then we'll be leaving here." At the mention of his name, you lift your gaze completely. The alien is stationed at the entrance, arms crossed, sporting a ghostly smile as a greeting.
Relief floods through you when he appears, and he can sense it too. Your oxytocin levels spike at the mere sight of him. The moment is disrupted by the loud rumbling of Jess' stomach, leading her to groan and flop onto the bed. "I'm starving!"
  A piece of your heart is relieved to see Jess back to her usual self, yet a part of you understands the importance of discussing the recent events and what lies ahead. Dom opens the room door and motions to it. "This one will take you to the canteen, you'll eat there." 
   Jess eagerly jumps out of bed, taking your hand and pulling you along. "Hurry, I don't want to go by myself," she pleads. You yield to her plea and stand up. Dom watches the two of you but doesn't race you to get ready. The two of you quickly put on your shoes and exit the room.
Dom assumes the lead, acknowledging the presence of the guards stationed throughout the ship. "You will eat with the rest of your kind, worry not." You reciprocate with a nod, holding your sister tightly while marveling at the ship and its bewildering gadgets that surpass Earth's comprehension. Dom opens the door for both of you, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. His touch brings solace as you step inside, with Jess following closely behind. Although the canteen isn't teeming with people, its modest occupancy provides a semblance of safety within the ship's vast expanse.
"Jess?"
    The sound of your sister's name comes from a girl with dyed red and pink hair. A dazzling diamond stud graces her pierced nose, and her eyes gleam in a warm toffee shade. It takes a moment for your sister to locate the person who called out to her, but when she does, her eyes fill with tears of happiness as she waves in acknowledgment.
You anticipate your sister's eager rush, yet she remains rooted, her hand clasping yours with increasing intensity, as if seeking your validation. A profound connection is forged as your eyes meet, and despite the weariness etched upon your visage, you manage to summon a tired smile, silently conveying your agreement. With unwavering determination, Jess propels herself towards the girl in the queue, leaping into her outstretched arms. "Kayla!"
 While your sister is occupied, you sit at an unoccupied table, startled by Dom's sudden presence across from you. "How do you and your kin fair? Little female." It's a pity that you feel more at ease with an alien than your own kind. 
" My name is [ ]."  The nickname he has given you isn't one that offends you in any way. The way he uses it is quite endearing, but you'd rather him call you by your real name than anything else. You wring your hands together and your stress levels rise steadily. Anxious thoughts swirl in your mind as you ponder,  "What will happen to everyone else that's left here?" 
Your name carries the meaning of 'to conquer' in his native tongue and he finds it fitting for you. Dom's jaw tightens slightly as he locks eyes with you. "This one will not lie to you. Many of your species will die, it is survival of the fittest when it comes to the Qęnłar. They are hard to kill without proper weapons but it is not impossible."  
[ Abomination¹]
A soft gasp is stifled by your hand as tears well up in your eyes. The sense of guilt consumes you, making you question your own worthiness. Unsure of how you could have helped, you can't help but feel like an imposter among those who perished.
Dom seems to sense your inner turmoil and does his best to console you. "There is not much you could've done, litt–."His voice falters momentarily as he nearly utters the name he'd given you, but he swiftly regains composure. "Had you not gone out that night, you also could've been left here on terra to die. None aboard this vessel would have spared a second thought to rescue you." 
 It's clear that he's not skilled at soothing people, particularly humans, yet you offer your thanks with a watery smile. As he opens his mouth to speak again, he gently places a hand on his ear. Despite the absence of eyebrows, you observe the furrow in the center of his forehead. His gaze turns icy as he stands up from the table.
   "This one will find you in your chambers later, ask the guard to lead you when you are ready. Fęrłåk dė hłał." Although you don't understand the meaning behind his words, you nod in agreement, captivated by the enigmatic aura surrounding him. He then departs, pausing briefly to converse with the guard. [ Eat well ¹] 
  With a glance in your direction, the alien acknowledges Dom with a nod. Your stomach emits a low growl, prompting you to lay your head on the table, too fatigued to make a move.
Clang!
Next to your slouched figure, Jess sets down two trays brimming with mouth-watering dishes. As you straighten up, a grin spreads across your face. You instinctively grab the tray loaded with an assortment of fruits, feeling understood by her intuitive gesture— she knew you so well.
"Where did he go?" You assume she's talking about Dom. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you indulged in the succulent sweetness of a ripe mango, savoring each delicate bite.
 "Jess. What happened yesterday–."
The girl holds up her hand. "I don't know what happened when you left, and there's no need to tell me. I've never questioned anything you've done for me before because you always have the best interest at heart. Thank you for coming back for me. Dom told me that you wouldn't leave without me." 
She gazes down at her tray of food. "A part of me feels guilty for leaving mom and dad but I know that you made the right decision and had your reasons." Jess lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you. "I'm scared, absolutely terrified but I want to be strong for you. Like how you are for me. I can tell you're stressed as it is and I don't want to burden you." 
  You pull her into a hug and shake your head. "Jess, you could never, and I mean never be a burden to me. Do you understand?" She nods into your chest, sniffling softly. You rub her back and bite your lip. "I'm also really scared, this is new to me but I'll make sure that we'll get through it."
She nods again and pulls away from you. You purse your lips, a mixture of emotions swirling within you, and decide to divert your attention by savoring the delectable cantaloupe. "Now eat. You pulled me from my sleep and I want to go back to bed."  Jess chuckles softly, her head bobbing in agreement. " I'm also really sleepy. It'd also be crazy to wake up in space." 
 The mere thought causes you to grimace involuntarily. This entire experience is uncharted territory for you, but just like in the past, you will learn to adapt and persevere. The cool, refreshing juice of the watermelon glides down your throat, its delightful taste prompting a gentle hum of satisfaction.
 It feels almost surreal to grasp the idea that within a mere two hours, you will bid farewell to your beloved home. A place you believed to be exclusively inhabited by humans, the notion of extraterrestrial existence had never crossed your mind. The journey that lies ahead will undoubtedly present its fair share of challenges and hardships. This very moment, unfolding like a scene from an otherworldly sci-fi saga, is something you never could have anticipated, even in your wildest dreams. And now, as you find yourself in this new reality, your mission has taken on a profound meaning - to protect Jess at all costs.
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 "Captain X'ęnš would like to enter your chambers. Will you allow him access?"
   In a state of heightened alertness, you find yourself sitting up, your muscles tense with anticipation. The room is suddenly bathed in light, only to swiftly dim as the perceptive AI detects that Jess is still sound asleep. A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you contemplate the identity of the person standing outside the door. 
 Your gaze sweeps across the room, desperately seeking an object to grasp onto for a sense of security. Eventually, your eyes settle upon one of your worn boots. With a mixture of doubt and determination, you call out to the AI. "Please show me the door feed." A brief moment of silence ensues before the AI responds, its voice calm and reassuring. "Certainly."
The door shimmers, revealing a translucent barrier that draws you nearer. Dropping the shoe, you breathe a sigh of contentment at the sight of Dom standing before you. Standing in front of the door, you gaze at him, captivated by the intricacies of his face.
 "Can he see me?"
In a swift response, the AI speaks, "Negative, this is a unidirectional perspective. He is visible solely to you."  As soon as it finishes saying that, Dom raises his head. Your heart pounds rapidly as his gaze eerily connects with yours, contradicting the AI's statement. "Open the door."
As the entryway unfolds with a whisper, Dom's towering figure emerges. You greet him with a breathless smile, slipping your hands into your back pockets. "Hi." Dom mellows at your soft tone, allowing you to place a hand on his arm and push him back, watching as you discreetly slide out of the room so as to not wake up your sister. He does a once over, looking for any wounds or signs of distress, and finds that he's pleased with himself that you're alright. 
 "This one said he would visit after his duties, jœrmünd łæ bšłåm." He watches with amusement as your eyebrows furrow. " What does that mean?" Your lips form a thoughtful pout. "And earlier you said, ferrak di hal." From the moment you first laid eyes on him, even though it was just recently, you had been curious to discover the sound of his laughter, and it did not disappoint.
   His laugh isn't boisterous. It's a deep and soothing sound, akin to the soft murmur of a distant waterfall. As the echoes of his laughter reached your ears, they stirred a gentle fire within, causing a delightful warmth to spread and caress your belly. Whether he noticed the subtle increase in your body's temperature or not, he remained silent, allowing the enchantment of the moment to weave its spell.
    "Jœrmünd łæ bšłåm, it translates roughly in terra language to, 'good evening.'" His eyes twinkle with a playful delight as you attempt to mimic the intricate sounds and melodic cadence. " Fęrłåk dė hłał. It means to, eat well."
Dom gazes intently at you, then clasps his hands behind his back. "Walk with this one."  You wriggle your toes in your cozy socks and give a slight nod. 
As if guided by an invisible force, your steps align effortlessly with Dom's. The silence envelops you, but it feels far from uncomfortable. Your gaze wanders through the vast corridors of the ship, capturing glimpses of unfamiliar beings from distant worlds. At this moment, you break the silence and softly inquire, "May I know your name?"
With a quick glance, Dom's gaze shifts to you, his lips forming a straight line, prompting a frown to appear on your face. You ponder if your request was too bold, unsure of the cultural norms that may have been offended by your question.
As he utters the words, a sense of relief washes over you, even though his expression seems tinged with sadness. "This one's given name is Nim'xėn." he murmurs. In the distance, a group of his fimea approaches, but you remain oblivious, lost in your own thoughts. With a tender touch, he clasps your wrist and guides you to his side, yet your attention barely registers the gesture. [ soldiers ]
  "Nim'xėn, in the language I speak, translates to 'of soft heart'. It doesn't much fit, when it comes to this one's line of work." Your mouth opened in a small 'o', that was probably the reason he had stuck with Dom all this time. You laughed softly, holding your hands up in surrender when he shoots you a coltish look of exasperation. 
    "I think it fits, regardless of what you do." There is no trace of mockery in your tone, nor any hint of jesting at his expense. With a gentle smile adorning his face, he steals a glance at you. A surge of warmth courses through your veins, causing your body temperature to soar. Swiftly, he averts his gaze, evading your notice.
With a gentle laugh, he responds to your attempt at saying his name, "Nim'jin?" He guides you towards a door, "This one will help you practice your Tuökkorsė, later." You assume that he's talking about his home language and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, making you question just how badly you butchered his name.
As Nim'xėn gently swings open the door, a beckoning gesture invites you to step inside. Without hesitation, you follow the invitation, and in an instant, your jaw falls open in awe. Unbeknownst to you and Jess, who had been lost in slumber for over two hours, the ship had gracefully ascended into the vastness of space. The sight before you is nothing short of breathtaking, confirming your belief that waking up to the wonders of the cosmos is an experience beyond compare.
The space around you is encased in what looks like a delicate glass structure. You floated weightlessly in the vast expanse of the universe, far from the comforts of home. "Nim, this is truly breathtaking," you marveled. The alien blinked in response to the endearing nickname but remained silent. "Jess would love to see this." 
  Nim'xėn walks up behind you and fixates on the view he has witnessed countless times. However, inexplicably, he discovers himself treasuring your pįiwth expressions and yearning to unveil new wonders, all to witness your delightful grin once more. [ childish or cute¹ ] 
 "This one gives permission for you and your kin to visit here anytime." The enigmatic allure you possess has captivated him, leaving him bewildered. It is not his nature to be swayed so easily. He should have abandoned you on that desolate street, yet your innocent gaze had a profound effect on him. The depth of your love for your family astounded him, for even in the presence of imminent danger, your thoughts were solely consumed by her, and her alone.
Once he had escorted you to your room, his task should have been complete. Yet, your tender human hand had entwined with his own. Your unwavering trust and reliance had ensnared him, making it difficult for him to let go. In a realm where his female counterparts were independent and formidable, that moment of vulnerability had drawn him in, like a eürq to light.
 [ large mosquito like creature —  a saying similar to, ' a moth to flame ' ¹ ]
   Yet, he also knew how strong you were. None before you had managed to match his speed, let alone endure it for an entire three hours. Your unwavering determination fascinated him. Nim'xėn yearned to prolong your time together, reluctant to bid you farewell.
 Turning to the extraterrestrial, you met his gaze with the same wide-eyed innocence that had captivated him during your initial encounter. "Seriously?" His nod elicited a radiant smile on your face, reminiscent of the joy of Christmas, and Nim'xėn felt a flutter in his hearts. Your eyes then sought his. "How do you say thank you in your language?"
 Nim'xėn couldn't help but find it pįiwth¹ that you were making an effort to learn his people's language. He decided to humor you. "Stęq'hn kevvhr.²" The alien chuckles when you grimace, looking up at him with furrowed brows.  [ childish or cute¹ ] [ thank you² ]
 "Lirft X'ęnš, quœ mojå iėał ph'ük ak hlem.¹ "
As he tightens his jaw, a resolute grunt escapes his lips. Returning his attention to you, he observes the slight downturn of your plush lips and the tilt of your head to the side. "Do you need to leave, again?" Nim'xėn softly hums, his hand finding solace on your lower back as he leads you towards the door.
[ Captain X'ęnš, we need your assistance up front. ¹ ]
"This one will take you back to your room."
 As you tread back, a hushed calmness settles in, and Nim'xėn discerns that your thoughts have carried you away. Respecting your need for introspection, he chooses not to disturb your reverie. Upon arriving at the room, you turn around, meeting his gaze head-on. "Stęq'han kever." Without delay, you slip inside, leaving him standing there, his words left unspoken.
   He then realizes that while the two of you were walking back, you had been trying to replicate what he had just said. Nim'xėn, finding himself once more, made his way towards the pit. Despite your imperfect rendition, he grasped the essence of your intention and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
phæż pįiwth ¹ he thought.  [ how cute. ¹ ]
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trippinsorrows · 5 days ago
Text
looking through your eyes + twenty six
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authors note: this chapter almost entirely covers grief. be prepared.
cw/tw: angst (discussion of grief and loss)
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
chapter suggested listening: "i hope you dance" by gladys knight, "lift me up" by rihanna, and "dancing in the sky" by dani and izzy.
masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form
words: 9k
Solana still vividly remembers the moment she was told her mother was dead. Not the moment where Nina died, where she took her last breath. No, that devastating memory is forever attached and molded to Solana’s recollection, something to never escape her, despite her best efforts to dump it into the sea of the forgotten.
No, the moment she was told is something different, somehow colder and heavier. 
She can still recall the sound of beeping machines, blurry, amorphous figures melting into something less abstract and more corporeal. The smell of nothing, sterilization that was quickly permeated by the overwhelming scent of her father’s cologne.
For some reason, that was more prominent and noticeable than the tube down her throat, preventing her from clearly speaking. It didn’t stop her from trying though. Because even with her barely cognizant state, with the fact that she wasn’t still fully aware of where she was and what occurred, her focus was on one person.
Her mother.
That was the intended word, Solana’s muffled moans and groans, fighting against the tube. The pain that shot through her little body while trying to move it wasn’t enough to stop her from asking. 
Mommy
It’s something that’s always sat with her. Influenced her in many ways. 
It’s also something that helps her understand a fraction of what Roman is going through right now, the feelings he might be experiencing. Everyone is different. She knows this. But, she also knows the feeling of loss. Of feeling alone.
And she swore to him he would never be alone.
Fetu is gone, yes. But, he’ll always have her.
It's what she keeps in mind as she and Jimmy arrive at Fetu's place and move to enter.
Solana had a feeling she would be walking into a difficult scene, but she hadn’t the slightest clue the severity of said difficulty.
“Oh my God….”
It’s bedlam. 
Chaos and destruction all around her from the minute she and Jimmy open the front door and walk in. Furniture turned upside down, shattered shards of glass littering the floor all over, dents and scuffs on the wall, indicating objects being thrown.
Solana even spots a few holes she can tell weren’t caused by objects.
They were caused by fists. 
But while Jimmy stands beside her, face not hiding his shock and slight horror at what lies before them, Solana’s similar expression stems from a different space.
It stems from how devastated her husband must be right now to cause such destruction.
“I’ve gotta find him,” Solana says, swallowing and moving to maneuver past the glass when a cautious but firm hand grabs her arm.
“Solana, let me find him.”
She doesn’t need an explanation as to why this is being proposed. The answer is written in red lettered concern all over his face.
She shakes her head. “No.”
Jimmy sighs, dropping his hand to gesture to the wreckage around them. “Solana….look at what he did.” She has. Hard not to. “He’s clearly not in a good place right now.”
“Would you be?” She challenges. “Put yourself in his shoes, Jimmy. In my shoes.” Voice breaking, she discloses. “You don’t know what it’s like to unexpectedly lose the one person who meant the world to you….and to not be able to say goodbye.” Solana sniffles, forcing out a shaky breath. “I know what he’s feeling right now, which is how I know what he needs, and it’s not you.”
Jimmy is silent. A small part of her understands and appreciates his concern, but he has to understand her side of things too. 
Roman may be his cousin, lifelong friend, borderline brother.
But, Roman is her husband. Her person. Her better half.
Her soulmate.
“I’ll be fine,” she reassures, reaching for his hand. “What I need you to do is find Ava.” She motions to the destroyed room. "We don’t know if she was part of this as well.” Because despite only one meeting, Solana can tell that Ava has a strong personality just like Roman. Loved Fetu just as much as Roman.
She has to be just as distraught.
Jimmy counters, “let me try to clean some of this up first.”
“No.” Solana shakes her head. “I can handle that.” Because cleaning up after men following outbursts is something, sadly, she has plenty of experience with. Countless times her father and brother would destroy rooms and force her to clean up their mess. So, certainly, she can do the same for a man whose actions are fueled not by rage.
But pain.
Loss.
Grief.
Especially when that man is her husband. 
“Solana—”
“And I—I want you to leave after that.” His eyes double in size, prompting her to explain. “Roman…..he’s gonna need some time. I don’t….I don’t think he’s going to want to be around anyone, even you.” Maybe even me. “I want to give him what he needs.”
“Solana—”
“I’ll be fine, Jimmy.” There’s not an ounce of her that believes she won’t. “I just need you to find Ava. Help her. And get back home, because I need you to keep Dulce for us.” She swallows, adding in a small voice. “He’s gonna need a couple days.”
More than that. Much more. But for now, it’ll have to do.
Jimmy still looks unconvinced. 
But, he eventually agrees, leaving to find Ava who had sent a vague text saying she needed air.
Nothing more.
It's how both Jimmy and herself suspect she's gone for a walk in the surrounding woods.
And as soon as he's gone, Solana is on the move, instantly going up the stairs.
Each step taken feels like there’s a ton of bricks attached, weighing her down, pulling her back and trying to keep her from exactly where she needs to be. It’s all mental and emotional, but it’s not enough to keep her from pressing forward.
She passes Fetu’s room without sparing a glance, both for her own mental sake and knowing that’s the last place he’d probably be. His room would seem the most logical place to start to look, but she also knows that when one is deep in the throes of grief, there is no place for logic.
So, she goes through each room, bypassing the bathrooms and Ava’s bedroom. Again, another place she just can’t picture him being.
It eventually leaves her with two options: the last guest room and his room. Given the cracked door for the latter, that’s the route she chooses.
Solana’s heart is slamming repeatedly against her chest, her eyes watering prematurely at what she knows will be a heavy ass sight. But still, she powers through those emotions, bypasses her own personal sentiments and focuses on him.
A gentle knock followed up with, “Roman?” Nothing. She’s not surprised, but she at least would like him to know it’s her about to enter and not someone else. Something tells her his reaction would be different—very different—if anyone else was trying to “disturb” him right now. 
Solana gently turns the knob, partially unsurprised to also find the room in a slight state of disarray. Not nearly as bad as the living room and entrance but still indicative of turmoil.
A lamp lays shattered near the door to the bathroom, a picture knocked off the wall, the TV also down on the floor. Nothing major beyond that, but even if so, it wouldn’t capture much—or any—of her focus. No, that’s because it’s already spoken for. 
“Roman….”
She sees him. Slumped on the floor, one long leg outstretched, other leg up, extend arm resting on his knee. Closing the door behind her, she rushes over to him, again unsurprised by how he doesn’t even bother looking in her direction.
Instantly, those watery eyes are upgraded to silent tears streaming down her face. “Ro…..” Carefully leaning down beside him, she finds herself reaching to push back some of his hair that’s not neatly tucked into his everyday bun but instead wild, hanging, unruly. 
A perfect representation of what he must be feeling. 
She shakes her head, “I’m so so—”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
There’s not a part of her that’s taken back by his words: hollow, empty, stoic. If anything, it’s expected. 
She expected this kind of reaction to her presence.
Shaking her head, Solana keeps her voice leveled. “I’m exactly where I should be.” Her gaze travels to his hand, a small gasp leaving at the blusied, lacerated, bloody state of his knuckles. “Roman—”
“I want to be alone.” 
Another emotionless statement, forcing her to look back at him. He looks shattered, but in a way that makes sense for him. No red, teary, puffy eyes. No. Just an empty look that hides an abundance of emotions. 
Solana makes sure not to stutter, stammer, or anything of the sort as she calmly replies, “I’m not leaving you alone.”
He closes his eyes, his jaw ticking, a sign of growing anger. It doesn’t deter her. “Solana, I want to be alone.”
“Roman—”
“I said leave!”
Silence
There’s a burst of silence that washes over the room following his outburst: loud, frigid, pained.
It’s been some time since he’s raised his voice with her, and the last time, her reaction was typical for where she was at that point. Scared, frightened, terrified even.
None of that could even remotely describe what she’s feeling right now. 
Solana has no reaction to his outburst. No flinching, no cowering, no wincing. Nothing.
“No, you don’t.” A closed, sullen smile as she moves a lock of his hair back out of his face. “You just don’t want to feel what you’re feeling. You’re angry and hurt and sad and confused and so many things you probably don’t even understand, because….because that’s what grief is.”
He says nothing, offers not outward reaction to her words. 
“I’m gonna say this one time and one time only.” She’s never been more sure about something in her life. “You can yell at me, you can scream at me, you can throw shit in my presence, you can even flip over every piece of furniture in this house, but I am not leaving. You may want to be alone, but you don’t need to be alone.” Pushing back more of his hair, it’s not missed on her the way he clenches his jaw. Not from anger. Something else. Something vulnerable. “I’m gonna clean and wrap up your hand, then I’m going to clean up downstairs and cook. I won’t talk to you unless you initiate it, and I won’t force you to interact with me. You can ignore me all you want, but as long as you’re here, I’m here.”  Her voice cracks as she stresses, “I’m not leaving you.”
Roman continues to remain silent following her heartfelt explanation, but it doesn’t bother her. None of what he’s done, what he’s said or not said bothers her, because right now, whatever he’s feeling is valid. 
“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs. Solana walks over to the bathroom and pulls out the first aid kit from the cabinet, returning to her husband who hasn’t moved. Silently, she works to disinfect and tend to his injuries. It’s not horrifically bad, but it’s not good, either. She’s unsure if Roman flexes his fingers to show nothing is fractured, but regardless, it’s appreciated and checks off a box without her needing to ask any questions.
Once finished, she informs, “I’m gonna go start cleaning up. Afterwards, I’ll fix you something to eat. I’ll have your plate on the table and text you when it’s ready. I’ll eat elsewhere.”
Roman continues to offer no sign that he’s listening to a word she’s saying. Still, it does nothing to deter her. Kissing his forehead, she returns the first aid kit to where she found it and walks out the room, leaving the door slightly cracked.
Solana walks back downstairs and stops midway to survey the damage around her. A lot is ruined beyond repair, but her focus is less on what was broken and more on ridding the place of the hazards. Starting with the broken glass.
Remembering where the cleaning supplies are kept, Solana carefully maneuvers her way across the floor and grabs the broom and dust pan. Wordlessly, she moves to clear the floor, dumping the shards into the nearest trash can. For extra protection, she vacuums the floor twice to suck up any remaining pieces. 
Following that, she goes to put back unbroken items where they belong. Pillows back on the sofa. A sofa that she had to tip over. Books back on the shelf. Pictures that once belonged in now broken picture frames on the coffee table. And the items of irreparable damage dumped in both the kitchen bin as well as the big bin out back.
It’s about half an hour of work, significantly less time than most people would need, but this isn’t Solana’s first rodeo.
She’s seen this movie before. 
Is very familiar with how it plays out. 
She’s about to start on the food when the sound of a door opening pulls her from searching the fridge to see what she can put together. 
Turning and walking towards the front door, Solana is already moving towards a despondent Ava, pulling her into a comforting hug. 
Ava sniffles into her shoulder, Solana’s eyes closing as she feels Jimmy’s sad gaze on them.
“I’m so sorry,” Solana whispers, holding her tighter. This is such a devastating loss on all fronts, and while he heart breaks for Roman not being able to see Fetu before she passed, Ava was the one who probably sat with her as she took her last breath.
Solana also knows how equally devastating that can be as well.
“Thank you for being here,” Ava murmurs, eventually pulling back and wiping her eyes. “And for….cleaning up.” She lazily gestures to the room that’s still not together but much better than it was.
Solana nods, taking Ava’s hand. “I was going to cook. Why don’t you—”
“Thank you, but—” Ava offers a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “I can’t—I can’t stay here.” Her lips press together as she shrugs with one shoulder. “Too many memories.” Solana also understands that. Understands it well. “I have an apartment out in town. I’m gonna—I’m gonna go stay there for a couple days, at least until–until the funeral.”
Funeral……
Solana doesn’t want to think about that.
“Of course,” she nods. “But, if you need anything—”
“I know.” Another smile. One that more so meets the eyes. Comes from a place of gratitude. She then gestures up the stairs. “But, he’s going to need you more.”
————
It’s difficult. 
For many different reasons. Solana trying to process her own grief while wanting to support and be there for Roman, while he works through his own. And while Solana logically knows that Roman icing her out, to some extent, should be expected, it doesn’t make it any easier.
Doesn’t hurt her any less to know he’s hurting but won’t let her help him.
But, she also knows she made that an option for him, and she doesn’t regret it. Nothing could stop her from being exactly where she is, even if Roman hasn’t said a word to her since her arrival almost three days prior.
Occasional glances and head nods, but nothing verbal. That also hurts, but she doesn’t take it personally. Knows that he’s just weighed down by everything that’s happened. 
She just continues to do what she can, prepare his meals that he eats alone, handles cleaning and laundry as he seems to spend the bulk of his days in the home gym or outside on ruins. A lot of avoidance behavior. But, she’s starting to see that’s maybe just how Roman copes.
He doesn’t. He just avoids shit until it “goes away.”
But this….this isn’t something to avoid, something that will go away.
He’s going to have to confront his emotions sooner or later.
Solana shifts on the bed in the guest room. The room where she’s been sleeping, already knowing that if Roman can’t even bring himself to interact with her, the likelihood of him wanting them to sleep in the same bed is slim to none. 
Another thing that’s hard. 
She’s just gotten so used to sleeping in his arms, but that’s a thought that’s much too self-focused. Her needs matter, but so do his, and right now, he’s not able to provide her that. 
And that’s okay, because he’s not okay.
She just wishes she could do something to help that. 
Her phone lighting up with Dr. Stratus smiling face is a nice distraction. “Solana.”
“Hi, doc,” she greets, shifting on the bed. “Thank you for—for making time for this.”
“It sounded important,” her psychiatrist's grin shifts into more of a frown. “And judging by how sad you look right now, I bet it is.” She directly asks, “what’s going on?”
So much. Too much to even fully unpack. “Roman’s…..had a loss in his family recently, and it’s….it’s hit us all pretty hard.” Him, arguably, the most, but also, her meeting and connecting with someone as much as she did with Fetu only to lose her so quickly…..it’s rough.
To say the least. 
Dr. Stratus frowns. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Solana already knows the question before it’s asked. “You know I have to ask. Are you experiencing any type of ideation?”
“No.” An easy answer. “Not at all. Just….heavy emotions.” Extremely. “Part of that though…..is probably because I’m pregnant.”
A gasp. “Solana.” Again, Dr. Stratus is smiling, still not as deep as her initial grin. But filled with excitement. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Solana sniffles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—” She’s unable to catch the tear that spills down her cheek. “I still haven’t told Roman, and—and now that this has happened, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to tell him.”
Because that’s the other noxious thing about all of this. How wonderful, life-changing news has been tabled by horrible, also life-changing news.
In no universe can Solana understand and come to terms with how telling Roman about her pregnancy is appropriate. How is he to celebrate life when he’s just lost it?
It’s just all so terribly cruel.
Solana clears her throat. “I went to Roman’s doctor to do the test for me, and it came back positive, but he’s also certain that we’re having twins.”
“Oh, wow,” Dr. Stratus sighs, sympathy written all over her face. “Solana, I can’t imagine how difficult and confusing this must be for you right now.”
Solana whispers, “very.”
“Have you….have you spoken to Gail about this?”
She shakes her head. “No, because…..because it feels wrong—it is wrong—to keep telling people when my own husband doesn’t even know.”
Because it does. Because in a perfect world, she would have come up with a sweet and sentimental manner in which to break said news to him. Instead, she’s having to hide it from everyone around her—including him—sans the medical professionals she needs to know for various medical reasons.
“I understand.” Her voice is kind and calm, a constant. So very much appreciated. “But, you know, like myself, Gail is bound to confidentiality. As your therapist, she can help support you through this on the clinical side.”
“I know, but….but, I signed that paper allowing her to speak to Roman.” A full release of information. Solana knew what it was when she consented and still does now. 
“That doesn’t matter,” she counters. “You can revoke it any time, or even if you want to discuss it and make it clear she’s not to share that with him, you can. You are her client. Not Roman. Her responsibility is to you.”
Solana sits on the helpful advice. She’d forgotten Gail had made that clear when explaining the ROI. That it wasn’t the end all, be all, allowing Roman to know anything and everything about her. 
She might have to keep that in mind.
“So, I take it, you’ve only told me because of your medication, correct?” Solana nods. “Well, I wanna keep you with the Sertraline and Hydroxyzine. We could probably keep you on the Wellbutrin as well, but with a multiples pregnancy, I don’t want any take any risks.” She goes on to explain the plan, the way Solana is to taper off one medication to start another. Solana takes notes to avoid missing anything and makes sure to let the other woman know she probably won’t be home for a couple days. Thus, the switch won’t be immediate. 
That’s another thing that alerts Solana to how low her husband must be feeling. He hasn’t realized or either maybe just feels too down to even be on top of her medication. She’s been giving it to herself, which is something she’d like to become a regular thing. But, Roman not being as strict about it is yet another telltale. 
A strong indication of his continuing mental decline.
Another thing for her to worry about, and God is she worried. 
————
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Sniffling, Solana pauses the music, unable to listen to anymore.
Fetu’s smiling voice and cheery voice suddenly fill the room, returning to her along with a bittersweet memory. 
“Such a beautiful song. One of my favorites,” she’d shared, guiding Solana through a traditional Samoan recipe. “You want to know my favorite line?”
Solana nodded, smiling as she continued to peel the potatoes. “Of course.”
She waited for Fetu to turn down the music before she recited the lines. “Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone. I hope you dance.” Solana watched the almost solemn look in her eyes before the older woman smiled warmly. “Life is such a precious thing. We all have such limited time here in the grand scheme of things. In the good and the bad, we must always dance and find something beautiful to look back at.” 
Solana’s tears intensify, still remembering, feeling the exact emotion she felt in that moment. So profound and moving.
She’d give anything to have just one more type of interaction or conversation with Fetu again.
Even if…..
Even if just to tell her about the pregnancy. 
That makes her cry harder.
It takes a good twenty minutes for Solana to gather herself, to feel ready enough to check on Roman, to see if he needs anything before she goes to bed. 
Day five of his grieving has arrived, and he’s still not spoken to her. It still hurts, but it’s not a major concern.
What is a concern is everything else. His isolation. His helplessness. His sadness.
Solana knows better than anyone else what a depressive episode looks like, and the last thing she wants is to see him slip into one of those.
But, if he doesn’t stop shoving his feelings away, shutting down and dissociating…..that might be where he’s headed. 
Solana bypasses knocking on his door as it’s partially ajar. She instead walks in only to find the balcony door also open, Roman, shirtless, sitting on the chair, staring at absolutely nothing.
She frowns. 
It kills her to see him like this. 
Walking over to him, she stands just close enough for him to hear. “Ro? I’m going to bed. Do—do you need anything?”
His response is as the rest have been. Nonverbal. He simply shakes his head no.
She’s grateful he can’t see the disappointment in her face. “Okay.” Dejected and deterred, Solana turns to leave and return to her room.
“I didn’t come see her enough.”
Solana stops dead in her tracks as his deep voice penetrates the silence. For a quick second, she doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust her own hearing, because Roman hasn’t said a word to her in days. And yet…..
She turns toward him, realizing that her hearing isn’t needing testing when it happens again. He speaks. “I should have—I should have listened to you.” Solana walks so that she’s standing in front of him, where she’s partially eclipsed his view of the dark forest and sky that’s littered with a blanket of stars. “I should have—” He closes his eyes, as Solana kneels down in front of him. 
“Please don’t do that,” she begs, shaking her head, taking his hands in hers. His right hand has healed nicely following her tending to it at least once a day since he messed it up. “Please don’t blame yourself. She wouldn’t want that.”
Studying him, Solana is realizing this is the most expressive Roman has been in days. She could feel his grief before, but she can actually see it now. “She knew you loved her, Roman. And she loved you, too.”
“It wasn’t fucking enough though.” The anger is rising again, but it doesn’t deter or scare her, just makes her heart ache. Because she knows it’s just a cover-up for an abundance of sadness. “Never enough.” Her heart fractures even more as he says in a pained, tortured voice. “I wasn’t enough for her….to stay. Not—not her. Not my parents. My uncle. My siblings. None of them.”
And it’s really not until this moment Solana has truly known what it means to see the person you love the most break down before you.
This is a completely different side of her husband. 
This is vulnerability. 
“Ro…..” Fingers raking through some of his hair, she does her best to find any words that could provide him some type of comfort, all while knowing nothing can ever really take away his pain. “Baby, you are enough.” More than enough. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” 
He looks away, clearly distraught. “I couldn’t save her this time.” Her eyes shut. This is heartbreaking. “I didn’t…..I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
Solana’s chest aches. Tears brimming in her eyes, she stands up. “Come here.” She doesn’t even have to try to embrace him. Roman already has his arms around her, tugging her closer as he lays his head against her stomach. 
It takes a second for it to register, for her to recognize there’s a slight tremble of his body against hers. For her to understand why his grip on her seems to tighten by the second. He’s holding her so tightly. 
And, it’s when she hears it that it registers.
It’s when she hears the quiet sniffles that it hits her like a ton of bricks. 
He’s crying. 
Another brief second of shock that’s quickly washed away by her natural instinct to nurture and protect. 
“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, holding him, kissing the top of his head. “Baby, I am so so sorry.”
For one thing and one thing only. His loss. What Fetu’s death has done to him, how it has impacted him so deeply. What’s she’s not sorry for is this long awaited breakdown of sorts. Roman has needed this. Needed it for so long. To finally breakdown and feel his feelings, and while she knows better than anyone how uncomfortable and overwhelming that can be, it’s also inevitable.
This was bound to happen.
She’s just grateful she can be here to support him through this.
The way she always will. 
————
Roman’s breakdown proved to be the catalyst. The thing that helped progress him from this almost stoic state of dissociation to a state of feeling and being. He’s actually talked to and with her. More interaction that doesn’t feel forced, almost natural. What she’s used to. To some degree, because he’s still sad. Of course, he’s sad. Still grieving. All normal.
But, he’s no longer icing her out, and that’s all that matters to her. 
So much so that he’s continued to accept her nurturance and affection. Welcomes it. Craves it, almost. The way he’s welcomed her back into the bedroom, sleeps at night practically on top of her, head on her chest as she rakes her fingers through his hair. The way he pulls her onto his lap as they eat. It’s all so subtle but also loud. The kind of love and support he’s clearly needing, and she gives it all to him.
Whatever he needs, she’ll do.
Solana presses a kiss to his temple and runs her fingers along his broad shoulders as he lays back, almost relaxed against her, the bubbles surrounding them covering the majority of their bodies, warm water infused with lavender and chamomile contributing to the serene atmosphere she was aiming for.
A goal that seems to be working based upon how at ease he feels against her, the leaking of the tension from his big body. 
“I’m gonna drive tomorrow,” Solana informs. Because Roman’s emergence from his dark hole has also meant reintegration into reality and society. Over the past two days, she’s overheard him taking phone calls, some in English, some in Samoan. And from what she could make of these calls is that they were pertaining to funeral arrangements for Fetu.
Clearly, as the funeral is set to be held this upcoming Sunday. 
She has such mixed feelings on that. On how hard that’s going to be for her husband. 
But, one thing at a time.
“I can drive,” he answers, eyes still closed. 
Sighing quietly, she angles her head so that she has a better view of his face. “I said I’m gonna drive.” At that, Roman opens his eyes, clearly taken back by her calm but firm push back. Frowning, she strokes his beard. “I want you to rest.”
Because, she does. Because he’s going to need it. Because in this space for the past week, he’s been able to just be. Be angry. Be hurt. Be sad. Be anything he needs to just be a human freaking being.
But, once they’re back home, all of that has to be turned off. He won’t have the space to be anything but the Tribal Chief and not a man just grieving a very important person. 
So, she wants him to have as much time dwelling in this safe space as possible, and that includes being able to relax while she gets them back home. 
“Besides, I haven't done it in so long, I need to make sure I still remember.” Being chauffeured quite literally everywhere has entirely deprived Solana of the need to have a car of her own but also to actually, well, drive.
Roman scoffs quietly. “That’s reassuring.” 
Rolling her eyes, she flicks his shoulder and murmurs with a small smile, “shut up.”
He does, but it’s only in preparation for what comes next. “Thank you.”
She has a feeling what he’s referring to, but assumptions have rarely done society any good. “For?”
His reply is instant. “All of it.” 
Comfort. It’s something she’s clearly been providing him but something he’s always provided her. 
Solana moves her hands down his chest and across his shoulders, mouth against his temple. “I’d do anything for you…..” Because she would. Anything at all. “Anything you need, just tell me, I’ll do it.”
He’s done so much for her. Supported her through some of her darkest, lowest moments. The least she can do is return the favor. 
Solana watches him sit up, never takes her eyes off him as he adjusts himself so he’s facing her, gently pulling her so she’s almost straddling him. The movement creating a ripple of waves that brushes against their conjoined bodies. Her wet hands move to his face as his move up her damp back.
“I just need you.” It could mean a lot of things, could refer to many of the things she’s done with and for him over the past week. But, that look in his eyes, the way his still solemn gaze drops to her chest, how his hands are moving to her hips, she knows exactly just how he needs her right now. 
Solana reaches past him to turn the knob to start draining the tub before ghosting her lips over his, murmuring, “so take me.” 
————
Being back in their home is an experience. A bit of a tease, really. Because while it’s nice to be in her house, with Dulce who seems to stay by Roman’s side, clearly sensing his grief, it’s also bittersweet.
Because it doesn’t change what’s happened. Doesn’t make the feelings of sadness go away. 
Doesn’t stop Solana from thinking about the letter Fetu gave her, from trying to figure out if it’s the right time to give it to him.
A dilemma that haunts her in the days leading up to the funeral as she works to support and be there for her husband while also managing her own pregnancy symptoms that seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times.
It’s only by the grace of God that Roman hasn’t walked in on her hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach from any and all food consumed. An irritating occurrence that seems to happen when she’s trying to cook.
She's definitely noticed an increased sensitivity to certain smells. Spices and seasoning that have always been staples in her cooking shelved due to her literally unable to tolerate the nausea that they cause her to experience just from the aroma alone.
Irritating, to say the least.
But, it’s the morning of the actual funeral that has her anxiety spiked, her concern at a naturally high baseline level. All things considered, she just has to focus on being there for Roman. Whatever that looks like. 
Still, it’s heavy and sad and just gut-wrenching.
Just about ready, only needing to slide her sandals on after letting Dulce outside to relieve herself, Solana decides to check on Roman. 
She finds him sitting on the edge of their bed. Like herself, he’s already dressed. A white, short sleeved button up shirt accompanied by a skirt-like wrap with tribal designs. A lavalava, according to Ava with leather sandals. 
She’s certain he heard her walk in, but he remains sitting, head down, ula fala on the bed beside him. Gently closing the door behind her, Solana walks over, partially surprised by how he reaches for her. Hands on her hips, her eyes never leave him as he lifts his head, clearly taking in her outfit. There’s a moment of anxiety under his intense gaze.
It’s easily squashed, however, when he says in a low voice, “you look beautiful.”
His compliment is so appreciated, especially when she thinks about his ability to still balance his grief while also making her feel so special. “Thank you.”
Solana moves her hands to the back of his head as he holds onto her, resting his head against her stomach. “I don’t want to do this.” Her eyes shut. She knows he doesn’t. “But, I have to.”
And that’s the part that kills her. That so much of handling this falls on his shoulders, is his responsibility because of his title. It kills her because it deprives him of just being able to grieve.
“I know, baby,” she comforts, gently stroking the back of his neck. “But, you don’t have to do it alone.”
She feels it. The heavy sigh against her. A sign of a semblance of relief. She’ll take that. She’ll offer that in any way that she can.
Roman sits back up, Solana watching him stand before her. Reaching to his side, she’s careful in how she picks up the ula fala and holds it before him. “Can I…..”
He nods and dips his head, allowing her to place it upon him. Solana is mindful of the placement, remembering the exact place it’s always sat when she’s seen it on him. And when he straightens to his full height, she moves her hands to his chest and says, “I know that you have to be the Tribal Chief today, but when it’s all said and done, and everyone has left and it’s just you and me, all I want and need you to be is Roman….that’s it.”
Because Roman is a man grieving. Who needs to be able to freely feel his feelings.
Whether he wants to or not.
Solana nods and leans up to kiss his cheek before taking his hand in hers, reminding, “I’ve got you.”
He says nothing, only nods, but he doesn’t have to. She can see the appreciation—and love—in his gaze.
—-----
Solana has never actually attended a funeral before. By the time she woke up from her coma, Xavier already had her mother buried, depriving her of that formal goodbye.
So this is a first for her. Different. She quickly learns that death is something that is not necessarily seen as a bad thing in Samoan culture. Sad, yes, but the focus is on the celebration of life, which she started to figure based upon the white color scheme.
Given the nature of the situation, Solana is unsurprised by the small attendance. Roman’s preference, no doubt. Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi are all expected guests, along with the preacher who officiates. However, it’s Paul and Dwayne who take her by surprise.
There’s a sense of gratitude, however, when they both hug Roman and offer their condolences. And she’s especially moved by the extended time taken with the hug from Dwayne, the way she can feel the empathy emanating from his tall frame.
She appreciates it deeply, and she knows that Roman does, too. 
There are also a couple of other attendees that surprise her but not entirely, as they uphold what she would guess are Samoan traditions for funerals. Song and dance. Prayers. 
It’s a beautiful send-off, one fitting for Roman’s eccentric aunt.
And almost the entire time, Solana remains by his side. Holding his hand or his arm, and if not in physical proximity, she always finds him, watching him. He is her number one concern. 
All things considered, he holds himself together well, but that’s highly due to the mask he’s wearing. The strong resilience he’s displaying in terms of not giving away the true extent of his hurt. But, Solana feels it. Feels it deeply when it’s just the two of them standing in front of Fetu’s casket, the others already departed and readying to leave. She’s about to do the same, leave him to have some semblance of privacy, only for him to tighten his hand that’s tightly clasped with hers. 
“Stay.”
A single, simple word. But, enough.
Solana nods, moving to hold onto his arm, standing quietly but supportively beside him.
As she always will. 
It’s after that, unfortunately, that things go downhill.
Solana partially expected the twins to come over following the funeral. Ava as well. All three, however, expressed their desire to give Roman his space. And, it’s appreciated, because Solana also believes that to be the best.
For right now.
However, that sentiment is not shared by Dwayne, Paul, and Rikishi. And truly, the first of the three is no issue. He doesn’t ride in the limo, opting to drive himself back to the house. 
But, it’s during that ride, for the first time since learning of Fetu’s passing, Solana feels anger.
Not even as part of the grieving process. No, she feels anger towards the two men who sit across from herself and Roman. She feels anger toward them because they haven’t even driven off yet when they’re throwing a bunch of work questions and situations at her husband.
Her husband who may look present, but she knows him well enough to know he’s not. 
And given how long these two men have known Roman, she would have thought they could see the same.
Maybe they don’t.
Or, maybe they do and just don’t care. Either one pisses her off. Makes it hard for her to hold her tongue.
Shipments. Orders. Contracts. All logical things someone in Roman’s state shouldn’t be dealing with. 
But, it’s exactly what they’re throwing at him.
Even as they arrive at the house, Dwayne taking a call out back, Paul and Rikishi barely have Roman sat down at their dining room table when they’re back at it.
“Orton wants to speak with you regarding re-negotiating the RKO proposal.”
“Stocks are looking good, but we need to start thinking about next quarter.”
“The Cartel are still interested in meeting. You need to make that happen ASAP.”
A bunch of irrelevant shit. Solana partially wants to stay outside with Dulce to avoid having to overhear it, but it’s impossible to not want to be present. To not feel the need to be present. 
Just what more do they plan to throw at Roman?
Her husband is responding, being responsive, but she can see it, hear it. The difficulty he’s having. 
And it has her nearly bursting at the seams, trying to focus on moving around the kitchen, early preparation for dinner, but it’s hard.
She’s given a chance though when Roman clears his throat and says something about changing before he stands up from the chair and starts to walk away.
Just like that, Solana knows this is her opportunity, her chance, and she has to take it. 
Because, she’s disgusted.
It’s only when she’s certain that Roman is upstairs, fully out of hearing distance that she finds herself asking, “what is wrong with you two?”
Both men look at her with partially startled, mostly confused, expressions. Rikishi is the first to speak. “What?”
Solana scoffs and points toward the steps. “He just buried his aunt. Her body isn’t even cold in the ground, and you’re asking him about work?” She continues, throwing out almost angrily, “does he look like he needs to be working right now?”
There’s a bit of a standstill. Paul looks flustered, his cheeks turning red like a child being scolded by a parent. Rikishi, however, wears an almost blank expression. “You are not Samoan, therefore you do not understand our ways. We do not mourn like you do. We celebrate life.”
“Yeah, well he’s not in place to celeb—”
“Roman is the Tribal Chief. What he needs is irrelevant when it comes to the Bloodline.” Rikishi’s interruption—and his words—have her taken back. “He understands what his duty is.”
“His duty…..” It’s potentially a build up of things, sadness and grief, manifesting as anger. Regardless, it’s growing with each word that leaves this man’s mouth. “Has he not given enough? He does everything he’s supposed to do for the Bloodline—”
“Except provide an heir,” Rikishi’s voice is as icy as the cold look in his eyes. “Or would that be you failing at the one job you have?”
Paul’s eyes widen as looks at the man beside him. “Rikishi—”
It takes so much, so much for Solana to not shut him up, to not tell him that she’s pregnant, hoping that he spreads it to any and all who’ve given Roman a hard time about not having a child.
Because fuck them. 
The chubby man lifts up his hand as he stands from his seat, rounding the corner of the table. “You are not Bloodline, so I’m not surprised you don’t know your place—”
“My place–” There’s not a single ounce of her wanting or willing to back down in this moment. “–is beside my husband.”
“Do not forget, girl, who put you in that position.” There’s an almost hint of disgust in the way the word ‘girl’ leaves his mouth. “You were nothing before him. Nothing but a punching bag for that pathetic father and brother—”
Solana has never considered herself a violent person, especially not someone who responds with violence. But, it’s almost instinct. Because one minute her hand is at her side, the next it’s colliding with Rikishi’s cheek, with an intensity that sends his head to the side. 
And she doesn’t regret it one bit.
Finally aware of what’s just happened, Solana can only process the anger in his fat face and the way he lifts his hand toward her. Except instead of cowering, she prepares to block it.
But, she doesn’t have to.
Because someone else does.
Solana gasps quietly at Dwayne who stands beside, almost in front of her, protectively, holding Rikishi’s arm in an iron grip. 
“I don’t think you want to do that,” he says with the perfect balance of lightness and seriousness. “Unless you want me to lay your candy ass out for breaking Bloodlines rules for putting your hands on a woman.”
Rikishi hisses and snatches his arm away. “She put her hands on me. I am an Elder.”
“I don’t give a damn who you are. You will not disrespect me in my house,” Solana swears. Never again will she allow any man to harm her, physically or verbally. 
And that’s a promise. 
Dwayne shrugs. “Sounds fair to me.” He then smiles, but there’s no trace of humor. “And like you said, she’s not one of us, so she doesn’t know our ways.”
Solana is surprised at that. How long has he been listening?
Paul suddenly steps forward, looking like he’s about to have a damn panic attack. “Clearly, there’s been some—”
“Get out.”
Solana’s interruption earns a variety of expressions ranging from surprisement, amusement and indignation.
Paul stutters. “I’m s-s-”
“I want you both out of my house.” There’s no stuttering on her end. “Now.”
While Paul looks confused between his friend and Dwayne, the latter chuckles, expressing, “I believe the wife of the Tribal Chief has made herself clear.” And just like that the smirk drops into a straight line as he orders, “leave.”
Paul doesn’t need to be told twice, the obese man hurriedly grabbing his papers with trembling hands. It’s Rikishi, however, whose gaze is now focused on her with borderline amusement.
He holds her stare, and she doesn’t dare look away. He will not intimidate her. 
Paul is mumbling and murmuring to the other man about needing to leave, something about coming back later, but again, he’s silenced by Rikishi.
“Well played, girl. Well played.” 
Rikishi turns to walk away when Solana finds herself stepping past Dwayne. “My name is Solana. Solana Reigns. The wife of your Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, and you will address me as such.”
Paul looks like he’s seen a ghost, like he’s seconds away from pissing himself. Rikishi just stares with a cold smile, one that doesn’t prevent or scare her from continuing. 
“And if you ever raise your hand to me again.” she steps forward, invading his personal space the same way he invaded hers. “Just know that I don’t need my husband to kick your ass.” There’s an almost snarl to her lip as she vows, “I can do it myself.”
Because she can. Because if she can put her brother, someone who terrorized and literally tortured her for years in the ICU, she can certainly do it to the rotund man before her. 
He doesn’t say anything else, just turns on his heel and leaves out with Paul, but Solana knows better. Recognizes that look. Has seen it before. Knows what it means.
This isn’t over. 
And yet, there’s not a part of her that’s nervous, that feels scared or even upset with herself at how she responded.
Because she’s spent years being hurt and disrespected by men. No more.
Not for herself but also for the children growing in her stomach. Children that she strongly believes to be girls. Solana would soon rather die than have anyone treat her daughters the way she’s been treated.
And she knows Roman would and will feel the same.
So, it starts now. The demanding of respect that she’s always deserved.
Regardless of who her husband is.
Dwayne steps forward, gentle hand on her shoulder. “You alright?” Before she can answer, he informs, “I’ll make sure Roman knows about—”
“No,” she interrupts and shakes her head. “I mean, I’m okay, but I don’t want you telling him. He…..he has enough on his plate.” And the last thing she wants is anything else being added to it. 
Dwayne frowns. “I don’t disagree with you, but as the faletua—”
Now she’s the one frowning. “The what?”
“Faletua,” he says it slower, offering and explanation. “It means the wife of the Tribal Chief.”
Solana is temporarily taken back by that. She never knew there was a direct word for who she is to Roman. For what she is to the Bloodline. 
It’s…..surprising, to say the least. 
“Speaking to you the way he did was unacceptable, but going to hit you?” He shakes his head. “Thought he would have learned that shit don’t fly with us by now.”
Curious, Solana crosses her arms and finds herself asking, “what do you mean?”
Dwayne seems a bit reluctant at first, eventually lowering his voice and offering an explanation. “Look, I’m 13 years older than Roman and Rikishi’s twins, so they were too young or not even born to have been around Rikishi when he was a piece of fucking work. Hothead. Impulsive. Used to beat on his wife. Always felt like he should have been the Tribal Chief. Nakoa, Roman’s dad, eventually had to give him an ultimatum: he get some help and straighten the fuck out or he and his entire family would be ex-communicated from the Bloodline.”
Solana hears the word coming out of this man’s mouth, but it’s difficult for her to process said words. Everything seems so…..unbelievable, like it can’t be true. Like the biological father of Jimmy and Jey, who have become like brothers to her, could be the sons of someone so…..vile.
Someone abusive.
Dwayne continues, “he’d calmed down a lot by the time Roman and the twins were born, so they don’t really know much about it. How bad it was, at least.” He then adds over a dark chuckle, “that’s where Jey gets his temper from. His old man.”
Solana has a lot to think on, but she also has many questions, too. Obviously, Rikishi’s behavior hasn’t been a problem for some time. Yes, there was today’s incident, but Solana thinks she knows her husband well enough to know he wouldn’t put up with any bullshit. 
So perhaps today was just a one-off? Fetu was his relative as well, so there’s a good chance his grief is presenting as irritation similar to how Roman’s presented as anger.
And yet…..
There’s this small, nagging part of her that doesn’t believe that. Believes that there’s more at play than what meets the eye.
Is starting to wonder if she now knows who Fetu was talking about when she said she told her brother, Nakoa, not to trust him.
Shaking her head, Solana redirects her focus to the conversation at hand. “Thank you.” Because she’s grateful for this man that she doesn’t know very well but believes to be a good person. Someone who’s good for her husband. “I—I’ll talk to Roman about what happened.” And she will……just sans some details. 
He doesn’t need to know everything. 
It’ll only put more stress on him, and he doesn’t need that.
Dwayne seems unconvinced, but he doesn’t argue. “If that’s what you prefer.”
“It is,” she answers. Switching gears a bit, Solana lowers her voice, sharing, “and thank you for being here…..for him.”
It’s not missed upon her the sad countenance that appears on his handsome face. “Gotta be honest with you, when I got the call, I was shocked. If I had known she was still……” Dwayne sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I understand why he kept it a secret. She….she meant a lot to him.”
More than you could ever know. “I know,” Solana whispers. The realization that Roman should have been back by now causes her to clear her throat. “I should probably go check on him.”
Dwayne nods. “I should probably get going anyway.”
Solana goes to protest, not wanting him to feel uninvited. “Oh no, you don’t—”
“You were right to tell them to leave,” he interrupts, gesturing to the steps. “He does need time.”
Solana says nothing, though feels immensely grateful to have someone who also recognizes that Roman is just a human being who just needs to feel and grieve instead of this machine that can just keep moving like clockwork.
Solana again thanks him for attending and his overall support before seeing him out the door and moving up the steps to check on her husband.
“Ro?” Opening the door to their bedroom, she's partially surprised to find Roman still sitting on the edge of the bed, clothes unchanged outside of the ula fala that lays on the dresser. 
He turns to her as she closes the door behind her and walks over to him. “I just….I need a minute.”
Moving in between his legs, she informs, “it’s okay. They’re gone now.” 
At that, he looks at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”
“Dwayne left on his own, but I made Paul and Rikishi leave.” And before he can say anything, she’s explaining, “I understand there’s things you need to get done, get caught up on, but the Bloodline can survive another day without you taking charge.” She sighs and cups his face, reminding him, “today was a lot for you. The least you can do is take the rest of it to just….be.”
She’s partially expecting him to push back, maybe even some irritation for her “speaking” on his behalf only for him to ask, “how did they take it?”
Shit. She wants to lie, feels like it would be an easy short term thing and maybe it would. But, the fact that she’s already keeping this pregnancy from him is more than enough secrecy for her.
“Paul seemed more scared than anything. Rikishi….he didn’t like it, but Dwayne backed me, so it was fine.”
A flash of anger appears in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if he likes it or not. If you say something, he needs to fucking do it.” And this is what she wanted to avoid. Him getting upset when he doesn’t need to. “I’ll handle it.”
Solana shakes her head. “That’s not important right now.” Because it really isn’t. Especially since she’s already handled it. “Why don’t you change? Lay down. I’ll fix you something to eat. If I start now, I can have it ready by—” 
She’s stopped by Roman reaching her for her, his hands on her waist as he says so quietly, “stay with me.”
It’s such a quiet, little thing, but it’s something he’s wanting.
Something he’s needing. Thus, the answer is obvious.
Solana nods and reaches for the middle of her skirt, hiking it up enough so that she can climb on top of his lap. Roman moves them back on the bed as she lays on top of him, snuggling herself into his chest as he wraps his arms around her, holding her. 
“Thank you,” he says after kissing the top of her head. The vulnerability in his voice is aligned what she’s seen and heard in him off and on all week. “I don’t…..I don’t know if I could have handled with this without you.”
His words cause chills to sprout up her spine. Another thing she can relate to. The loss of her mother was something she once thought she would never recover from, largely because she had to deal with it alone.
But, Roman isn’t alone.
And, he never will be again. 
Holding him a bit tighter, she promises, voice clear and firm, “you’re gonna be okay, Roman."
And, he is.
She’s going to make sure of it. 
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rafedarling · 3 months ago
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
summary: y/n attends the wedding of her best friend, rafe cameron, and his bride sofia. In a bittersweet moment, she reflects on her deep, unspoken love for rafe as she makes a heartfelt speech during the reception. despite the pain of unrequited love, she stays strong, showing genuine happiness for rafe’s new chapter with sofia. | word count: 1,0k
warning(s): english is not my first language. your point of view, contains themes of unrequited love, emotional vulnerability, and heartache, no happy ending. based on ‘love, rosie’.
au: i wrote small drabble while watching ‘love, rosie’, i hope you’d cry with me, also listen to lost with you by patrick watson while read this. like, reblog and comment/feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves
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His wedding was perfect, or at least it seemed that way to everyone else. Crisp white flowers adorned every table, soft glow candlelight. Sofia looked stunning in her dress—elegant, poised, and radiant in the way brides should be. I could see why Rafe fell for her. She was the picture of everything he probably wanted. Everything.
I stood in the back of the crowd as they exchanged vows, a bittersweet lump forming in my throat. It was strange, watching someone you love pledge their life to someone else. But I had no choice. This was Rafe. He was my best friend before anything else, and even though I had buried my feelings for him for years, today they seemed to rise up like a tidal wave threatening to crash over me.
I should have told him. Maybe not today. Maybe not even yesterday. But a long time ago, when we were still reckless teenagers, when we stayed up all night laughing at dumb inside jokes, and he looked at me like I was the only one in the room. That’s when I should have said it. That I loved him.
But now, it was too late. Sofia was his future. She stood across from him, gripping his hands, tears of happiness filling her eyes, and all I could do was smile and clap like everyone else. Like the supportive friend I’d been for so long.
The reception flowed with music and laughter, the champagne bubbling like the excitement in the air. I was halfway through a glass of wine when the best man finished his speech, and the MC signaled for me to step up to the microphone. My heart raced as I stood, smoothing my dress and moving to the front.
Rafe shot me a look as I walked up, his familiar crooked grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He was happy, genuinely so. And even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t let that ruin this moment for him.
The microphone was cool in my hand as I cleared my throat, looking out at the sea of faces, some familiar, some not. Then, I found his eyes—Rafe’s deep blue ones—and took a steadying breath.
“For the people who I haven’t had the pleasure to greet… Hi, I’m Y/n,” I started, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. “Rafe and I have known each other forever. We’ve been through it all together—good times, bad times, and some incredibly embarrassing times. Rafe, for example, can drink to an almost lethal alcohol concentration.”
A few laughs rippled through the crowd, and Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. I smiled, feeling the warmth of our shared memories.
“On my 18th birthday, he decided that the best way to celebrate was tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. And while I’m pretty sure we both blocked most of that night from memory, I can confirm that Rafe is, indeed, capable of not remembering an entire evening.”
The room filled with laughter, and even Sofia laughed along, her hand resting gently on Rafe’s arm. I swallowed hard, pushing down the pang in my chest.
“But in all seriousness,” I continued, my tone softening, “choosing the person to share your life with is one of the most important decisions we make. Because if you get it wrong, life can become�� well, gray. We both know that well, don’t we, Rafe?” I smiled at him, and for a second, I saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes.
“Your friendship has brought color to my life, and I’ve been lucky enough to have you by my side in some of the darkest moments.” My voice wavered slightly, but I kept going. “I’m the luckiest person in the world for that. And I hope I haven’t ever taken it for granted, though maybe I have at times. Because sometimes, you don’t realize that the best thing that ever happened to you has been right under your nose all along.”
I paused, letting the words hang in the air. Rafe’s smile softened, but I couldn’t tell if he truly understood what I meant. If he’d ever understood how deeply I cared.
“And that’s okay,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Because I’ve learned something important: no matter where you are, no matter what you do, or who you’re with, I will always be here for you. I’ll always love you. Like a sister loves her brother, and like a friend loves a friend.”
I saw Rafe’s eyes glisten slightly, and Sofia squeezed his hand tighter, her gaze flicking between us as if trying to decipher something. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t take back the years of silence. This was his day, not mine.
“I’ll always stand guard for your dreams, Rafe,” I finished, raising my glass. “No matter how far-fetched or impossible they may seem. So, let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom. To Rafe and Sofia Cameron.”
The room echoed my words as everyone lifted their glasses in unison. Rafe smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile that felt like a dagger in my chest. But I smiled back, because that’s what friends do. They celebrate the happiness of the ones they love, even if it’s not their own.
As I sat down, I felt the weight of everything I didn’t say pressing down on me. The laughter and chatter around me blurred into background noise as I stared at my glass, running my thumb along its edge. I was happy for him, truly. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of what could have been.
Maybe in another life, it would’ve been me standing beside him. Maybe in another life, I would have told him how I felt long before today. But in this life, I would remain what I always was—his best friend.
With music and dancing and stolen glances, I realized that sometimes… love isn’t about being with someone. Sometimes, love is about letting go, and hoping that they find happiness, even if it’s with someone else.
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xoxoxkisses · 4 months ago
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In your eyes
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Muichiro x fem!Reader
desc: muichiro falls for the quiet girl, being known as the popular boy, he has to decide to risk his popularity for her or not. Warnings: slight angst, fluff, aged up, slight bullying, cursing
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You had just left class when you heard the teacher call you back. “Y/n! Can you come here please?” You were ready to come home after a long day of school, but you couldn’t just ignore the teacher, especially after you had shown you had heard her. You turned around and started walking back to her class. Once you were outside the door, she ushered you inside. You walked in as she shut the door and you saw Muichiro. You’ve had a crush on Muichiro since middle school. He was always civil with you whenever the two of you had to talk to one another, but other than that, he avoided you.
“Y/n, Tokito here needs a tutor, and after some discussion you are the best we can find.” You looked at her and back at him where he was looking away and crossing his arms. “O-okay.” The teacher clapped her hands together. “Great! The two of you need to discuss some things such as times to meet and where. But the two of you are dismissed now!” You both nodded and left the room. Muichiro stopped you. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. “Here’s my number. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come over and start these sessions.” You took the piece of paper from his hand and nodded. You turned around and left, leaving him there by himself. Or so you thought.
“Muichiro what are you doing talking to that nerd?” He turned to see Genya laughing, Aoi following behind him. “Oh, I was just telling her to leave me alone. You know how those girls are, always asking for my number and shit.” Just then Aoi spoke up. “Then what was on that piece of paper you gave her?” Muichiro laughed. “I just gave her a fake number.” The three of them laughed, except Muichiro’s was fake. He loved his friends, he didn’t want them to know he wasn’t the smartest and that you were his tutor.
“Anyways guys, I should be going.” The laughed died down shortly. “Aw okay. Bye Muichiro!” Aoi said, Genya waving beside her. Muichiro waved and turned around, leaving the two of them alone. “Was he acting weird to you, or was it just me?” Aoi spoke up. “Yeah he definitely did. We need to keep an eye on him.” Genya and Aoi gave each other a sly look and looked back out at Muichiro as he rounded the corner. ————————————————————————
You had changed into a hoodie and some sleep shorts and tied your hair up into a messy pony. You had taken your contacts out and put on your glasses. You had just remembered Muichiro told you he was coming over for a session so you shot him a text.
“Hey”
“Who is this?”
“Y/n, if you want to come over for a session I can send my address.”
“Oh right. Sure.”
“Okay it’s xxxx.”
“Be there in 5”
You left him on read after seeing that message. You grabbed all of your textbooks out and put them in the floor of your bedroom. Your parents wouldn’t be home till late, so you didn’t have to worry about them barging through the door.
Not too long after, you heard a knock at your door. You knew it who it was, so you walked downstairs and opened it. “Hey, come in.” You moved out of the way so Muichiro could come in. You closed the door and locked it back. “Follow me.” He nodded and waited for you to start walking. As he followed you to your room, he couldn’t help but look at you. He thought you looked..cute. Why did he think that? This wasn’t like him. Not at all. You were just a nerd to him, right? So why were you making his heart race and making him so nervous.
In your room, you both instantly started working on some math problems. After around an hour. You tried quizzing him on what you had taught him. When you went over it, you noticed he got one wrong and helped him. “You see, you need to take this and move it up here and then-“ you heard a low growling noise and looked up to see Muichiro was grabbing his stomach. “Are you hungry?” He simply nodded. “Yeah, I forgot to grab something earlier.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, follow me.” You led him to your kitchen and allowed him to pick anything he wanted to eat. Simply enough, he chose some ramen.
“We can take a small break. We’ve been doing it for an hour now.” He agreed. You two sat in the living room watching tv. As he was watching the show, he couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. The way you sat there crisscrossed on the couch forming a line with your lips when you were confused with a scene, it made him feel weird. “Are you just gonna keep staring at me or what?” He hadn't noticed he was completely staring at you. “Oh sorry. I was just thinking about how comfortable your hoodie is I guess.” You hummed in response. “Are you done eating? If so we need to continue the lesson.” “Yeah I’m done.” He put away his dishes and went back up to your room after you.
After another hour it was getting late. “Well, that should end today’s session. When do you want to do this again?” He looked up in thought, trying to decide which day is best. “How about Thursday?” You nodded. “Works for me. Cmon I’ll walk you out.” The two of you stood up and walked out the door and to your gate. “Bye Y/n.” “Bye Muichiro.” You walked back in and cleaned up the books scattered in your floor. You didn’t know how you kept your composure during those 2 hours. But you did. ————————————————————————
Friday rolled around and Muichiro was with Genya and Aoi. He got his phone out and checked the time, seeing it was already 2:55 and you would be leaving at 3. “Hey guys, I got to go. I’ll see you two Monday.” With that he walked off texting you to find you. “Cmon Genya, we’re going to follow him.” Aoi grabbed Genya’s hand and followed after him.
When they saw him talking to you again with a smile on his face, they knew something was up. “I thought he didn’t like her.” Genya said a little too loud. “Shh!” Aoi clasped her hand over his mouth and pushed him behind a door. “Sorry, sorry.” When she looked again, the two of you were gone.
At your house, you wore some baggy sweats and a cropped tank top. You waited for Muichiro to arrive, preparing the same way you did last time. When you heard the knock at the door, you practically ran downstairs to open it. When you greeted him, he looked you up and down and felt his heart pound. “Hey Y/n.” You smiled at him. “Hi. Come in.” The two of you went to your room, this time you taught him a new lesson in math. The whole time he kept his eyes on you, watching the way your hands moved across the paper and the way your hair lay on your shoulders.
After a few hours, it was time for him to leave. You said your goodbyes and he left. ————————————————————————
It’s been a few months since you started tutoring Muichiro. The two of you began to gain feelings for each other. His friends started to notice how he always looked at you when you passed by. One day however, you were going up to him to ask you to be your date to the dance. Aoi had seen you walking up and decided to wait till you were in earshot to ask her question. “So Muichiro, do you like that little nerd girl you’re always with?” Muichiro almost stumbled over in laughter. “Who Y/n? Hell no, she’s one of the ugliest people I’ve seen. I only talk to her bc she’s helping me out in school.” You heard every word he said. Your emotions getting the better of you. “You really feel that way..?” He looked behind him and saw you crying. “Wait Y/n!” Before you could hear him out you ran off. He turned back to his friends who were laughing. “You two planned this didn’t you? I hate you guys.” He ran after you, leaving his friends stunned.
You went home and hurriedly changed clothes and got into your bed. You cried for around an hour until you heard a knock at the door. Today wasn’t a scheduled day for a session, so you didn’t think it was Muichiro. When you went downstairs and opened the door, you saw him there. You were about to close the door when he held his arm out and stopped it. “Y/n, let me explain.” “No. Leave me alone.” You shut the door successfully and locked it back. Going back up to your room to cry. Muichiro stayed at the door and facepalmed. Why did he say that?
At school he was listening to his friends talk. “Muichiro, you’re going to the dance right?” Aoi said snapping him back into reality. “Huh? Oh, yeah I am.” “Great! We can all go as a group!” He simply nodded. He spaced out again listening to them talk, not caring about what they had to say. ————————————————————————
The dance was today. You decided to go alone. You thought tonight would be a good night to talk to Muichiro about what happened. You were looking for him everywhere when you spotted him with his friends. Aoi gave you a sly smile and looked at Muichiro when she suddenly pulled him into a kiss. Genya looked at you and laughed. You felt tears welt up in your eyes and your heart break. You ran off crying.
Muichiro was listening to Aoi and Genya talk again, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He didn’t notice when Aoi got quiet and looked at Genya. The only thing he noticed was when she kissed him and heard Genya’s laughter. He pushed her away from him. “What the fuck Aoi?!” She simply laughed along with Genya. He turned around and saw you crying and running away. He tried to go after you but Genya stopped him. Finally he pushed him away and went after you.
After searching for you for a while, he found you by yourself by the rose bushes. He went up to you and stood there beside you. You looked over and saw him and tried to leave, but he stopped you. You started crying again. “Muichiro, why have you been this way-“ Suddenly, he kissed you. You felt your knees get weak and your heart pounded. “What are you doi-“ He cut you off yet again. “Y/n, I don’t like her, I like you. No I love you.” You looked at him stunned. “B-but what about those things you said at school?” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean them. I was embarrassed to admit I liked you.” “I-I like you too Muichiro.” He smiled at you and pulled you into another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. You basically melted into his hold, wishing this would last forever.
“Muichiro what are you doing?” He pulled away to see his “friends” staring at him. “Kissing the person I love.” You looked at them as their jaws dropped. “W-whatever. You won’t be popular anymore you know that?!” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t care. I want her more anyways.” He kissed you again infront of them, smiling into it. They both huffed away as he pulled away. “So will you be my girlfriend?” You giggled. “Oh course!” He hugged you and kissed your head. ————————————————————————
a/n: Ik genya, Aoi, and muichiro aren’t like a trio but I saw a TikTok where they were and it’s been in my head forever 😓
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gaywineauntsstuff · 6 days ago
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Dick Grayson ships in order of how toxic you should write them as adults in an established relationship imo (no batcest and we can discuss the harem at a later time)
Least
Dick X Wally: this is the quintessential friends to lovers story it’s adorable. Naturally a lil bit of toxicity bc nightwing is not a healthy person but still the ratio is 99% cute and 1% angst as adults. Feel free to angst away with the Robin/KF thing
Worlds where this is cute: young justice, earth prime pre Wally meeting Linda.
Dick X Kori: listen to me, if you ignore all the shitty writing (yes the babs wedding thing) they r perfect <3. The only person who I believe can be the lights light ya know. The broke up because they both took hits they couldn’t recover from but they still love each other and they’re my favorite canon pairing they should get back together and have a kid and be a cute lil family.
Worlds where this is cute: TT, Earth prime, DCAU, injustice, titans tomorrow, Lego Batman (every single earth actually)
Dick X Zatanna: cute, childhood crush turned sweethearts turned friends nothing to say here I just don’t think it would be toxic
Worlds where this is cute: young justice
Worlds where this should never happen: all the rest (she dated his dad)
Dick X Joey: I love them so I’m biased their relationship is on par with Dick and Wally taking field trips in the 80s. Also this is joeys most popular ship and that makes me laugh. BUT ANYWAY they’re just very homoerotic and I feel like they respect each other enough the toxicity would be on the lower side.
Worlds where this is cute: literally anytime before he possesses his dad’s body.
Times this is concerning: post possessing nightwings body (anyone remember that happening I just ignore it now, cuz I hate the whole evil Joey thing but if you wanna take this ship from 30% toxic to 140% write it post possession with the dude who had autonomy issues)
Dick x Kara: I just feel like the hero worship would get in the way a little bit
Worlds where this is cute: worlds finest
Worlds where this isn’t: the rest
Dick x Roy: I love them sm ur honor (despite how low I’m putting this, it’s one one my top ships) listen Dick and Roy adore each other and would die for each other, but the baggage?? The years of expectations?? The fights??? The fact that Dick gets more and more closed off when he’s mad usually but him and Roy in the same room and fists fly?? But the only people who can talk to Dick when he’s spiraling are Roy and Donna. Like ROY HARPER is one of Dick people!! You don’t understand how much I love how they can hurt each other while loving each other so so so much. They cause me pain. I don’t believe they’d ever mellow out Dick and Wally tho bc they’re whole relationship is heated they have never had a chill emotion about each other in their history of being characters that exist in the same space.
Worlds where this is cute: literally any world where the titans exist/have existed with speedy and Robin as core members
Worlds where no?: new 52 (I hate new 52 and ignore it tho so no universe sucks bc new 52 isn’t real and can’t hurt me)
Dick X Harley Quinn: see I hated this ship and I hate it in canon but I once read a fic that was good enough I now ship it on the dl and think it would be good for Harley to be with someone who can be a safety net. But like this is AU rare pair type shit and it’s low bc I literally cannot picture a canon universe where this isn’t the most toxic thing ever.
Worlds where yes: DCAU (AU) not even the canon one like the AU of the AU that is the DCAU (take a shot Everytime I say AU)
Dick X Shawn Tsang: I’m sorry yall Shawn was such a boring character I forgot she existed but I remember that she broke up with him after he lost his memory cuz she thought he was ghosting her and like not only does it feel like she just existed to give dick a love interest. Also this comic featured the character death wing and so it’s so low not bc the ship sucks except it does bc why dick?? Are you dating someone who hates heroes?? Why r u like this??? Stopppp but also bc imo the ship has a white bread type of content that is toxic to me personally and that’s more important.
Dick x Bea Bennet: I loved them sm in the beginning, best part of the Ric Grayson arc and then they added the spyral ties and made her a pirate and tbh that ruined it for me. Dick and Bea only work as a cute relationship if Bea is a way out or a window into the outside world like something to ground the man who is always trying to get his feet off the ground. It would be interesting. But now she’s just another another relationship where he didn’t know who he was dating and tbh I don’t think he’d be down for that post literally everything that’s ever happened to him romantically after the age of 16
Dick Babs: yes it’s this low, no I will not change it. It should be lower but I used to ship this so it’s only my fond memories keeping it this high. Babs slept with his father after dating him in at least 2 universes. Dick left Gotham for freedom and she quite literally drags him back Everytime they’re together it feels like about 30 years of Dicks character development is erased. And let’s not talk about Barbara used to be a congress woman Gordon. They deaged her to make her a decent love interest for someone who was a kid when she was running for congress. And because of the fact their characters don’t naturally balance out the way some of his other canon ships do (Bea, Shawn, KORI(the best canon ship imo), hell even Helena) it leads to the characters becoming flanderizations of themselves. Dick is a loveable himbo whose only defining characteristic is his ass and I hate to say it Barbara Gordon literally just turns into female Bruce and I hate it so much but genuinely read though some of their older stuff it’s like..ugh. Anyway I hate this ship I think it’s bad for both of them and while I’m not babs biggest fan I still like her and she and Dick should be best friends who get drunk on weekends and shit talk the bats and their respective teams (titans, birds of pray)
Dick X Helena bertinelli: yall wtf is this ship, if this is your main ship? Why? Tell me? Like what?? Helena??? Esp prime earth Helena?? He has more chemistry with midnighter than her (but we are not discussing the harem so I will remain silent)
Now the most toxic ship that isn’t incestuous is so obvious bc no one has ever pictured this ship with a modicum of health in it except its creator (derogatory) I’m 99% sure every single fic tagged this also has the domestic violence tag
Dick X Catalina Flores. Yeah no a billion times no this shit is so toxic the jack Napier fell into it and became the joker. This shit so toxic it only serves as a trauma boat for another person to swoop in and get him out I hate this so much.
Now dick is an old character so he has about a billion other relationships. But these are either the recent ones (Shawn, Bea) or the ones that have a lot of ao3 clout (birdflash) or something that makes my heart soft (dick and Joey) plus his most iconic 2 pairing I will not be getting into characters like Daphne, Clancy or Betty or anything else or the creepy ones like the fact he’s had shit with both catwoman and taila.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk
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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 1 year ago
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5
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Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP
Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.
I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):
Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero
If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen
Amber is butch, instant win
Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).
She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.
amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.
AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE
amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot
guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””
#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world
Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark
"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."
Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):
She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.
how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset
Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.
shes illiterate
canonically huffs dirty water from a bong
has big tatas
wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it
almost became the queen of hell
ate a god
turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth
The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched
To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.
moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.
Amber and Moonshine Together
Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...
OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL
appalachian sapphic solidarity!
Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.
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lewmagoo · 1 year ago
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million dollar man | rhett abbott
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description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck
listen to the spotify playlist here!
warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?
pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader
notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3
It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths. 
You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream. 
And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life. 
Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you. 
While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life. 
Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 
He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”
His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell. 
“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad. 
He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that. 
“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander. 
You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt. 
You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess. 
You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction. 
But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you. 
“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus. 
You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”
He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.” 
You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”
He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked. 
You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”
Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”
You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding. 
“Thank you,” you earnestly replied. 
He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 
You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you. 
“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you. 
You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 
“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind. 
You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor. 
Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise. 
You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”
“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile. 
“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him. 
“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said. 
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!” 
You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him. 
He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me. 
Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better. 
Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up. 
You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on. 
You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts. 
The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them, 
You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape. 
Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all. 
Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.
“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak. 
But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back. 
There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse. 
Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment. 
And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it. 
He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out. 
He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom. 
Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin. 
But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes. 
A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him. 
“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact. 
Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”
You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”
I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”
You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?
“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself. 
Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”
He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”
Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do. 
You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.
But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you. 
He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display. 
He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them. 
The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing. 
But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”
Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said. 
He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race. 
You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”
“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed. 
You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”
Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”
You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”
That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”
That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them. 
Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?
When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”
You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”
“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled. 
You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”
He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties. 
That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip. 
After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that. 
But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.
The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part. 
You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy. 
A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger. 
He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered. 
“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context. 
“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you. 
The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top. 
Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you. 
The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”
When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.
“Go outside,” he said to you. 
“But-”
His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”
And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night. 
Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed. 
The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said. 
Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”
Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy. 
“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside. 
He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you. 
“Thanks for that,” you whispered. 
“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”
You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”
“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”
Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house. 
“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”
“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”
Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”
You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”
“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”
To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off. 
His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued. 
“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”
Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”
You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you. 
So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him. 
That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”
You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on. 
“Well?” He asked. 
“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”
And that’s how it all started. 
He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance. 
His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent. 
When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication. 
“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”
You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”
Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”
“But-”
“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”
“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”
“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”
You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would. 
“Okay,” you relented. 
“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”
You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”
Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.
Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision. 
So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive. 
He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne. 
“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle. 
“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side. 
As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items. 
It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats. 
And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy. 
The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while. 
You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives. 
And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist. 
There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror. 
He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”
You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview. 
During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town. 
“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. 
“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”
Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”
You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said. 
“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”
You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”
“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”
Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you. 
Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them. 
“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”
Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”
“You never remarried?”
“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”
“Except for me,” you quietly murmured. 
He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”
“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”
From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else? 
You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet. 
Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such. 
Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it. 
The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop. 
“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”
Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined. 
Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich. 
You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.
An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home. 
“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”
Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”
Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”
“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”
You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.
On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 
“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.
He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”
You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.
You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs. 
There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.
“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.
He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”
Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.
However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.
Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime. 
In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you. 
Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.
He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.
As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you. 
It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.
But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.
He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.
Money would never be a concern for you ever again.
But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life. 
He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more. 
You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.
He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”
He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.
After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.
But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people. 
Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch. 
The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm. 
Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his. 
You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event. 
He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”
“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”
He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”
“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”
Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett. 
But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off. 
And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head. 
He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly. 
“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks. 
And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one. 
It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up. 
Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you. 
The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”
“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side. 
You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background. 
“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet. 
This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did. 
“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers. 
“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen. 
“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”
You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”
Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”
You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t. 
“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing. 
“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.” 
Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him. 
But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted. 
When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.
As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.
Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”
Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”
“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.
Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”
He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across. 
Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help. 
“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.
Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”
You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly. 
“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.”
“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”
In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”
“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them. 
“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”
You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”
Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in. 
Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true. 
What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt. 
When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet. 
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time. 
Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 
It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so. 
A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”
You sighed. “I know.”
“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”
You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.” 
At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. 
“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”
And somehow, you knew he would.  
His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought. 
You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter. 
Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring. 
You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too. 
It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be. 
He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory. 
With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment. 
Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness. 
Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.
That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow. 
Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week. 
Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day. 
You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.
As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake. 
But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness. 
Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on. 
You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it.
You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man. 
“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.
You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.
“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed. 
He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”
“Like a baby.”
He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.
He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”
You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”
He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”
“Exactly.”
He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”
You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”
You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest. 
You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly. 
You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air. 
God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?
“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.
“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off. 
He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet. 
“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”
Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.
You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.
“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed. 
Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple. 
You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you. 
“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”
He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”
He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute. 
Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige. 
“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort. 
“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”
He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled. 
“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”
He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.” 
You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett. 
You could get drunk off of his scent alone. 
When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing. 
But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting. 
Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you. 
Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going. 
You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction. 
“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”
He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”
Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.
Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside. 
Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip. 
You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears. 
You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak. 
And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around. 
Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity. 
“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you. 
“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”
He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head. 
“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”
At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”
Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”
Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”
He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”
You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm. 
As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt. 
The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you. 
“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so. 
“Love you too, baby.”
Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home. 
Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory. 
“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”
At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”
“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”
And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself. 
But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help. 
“C-can you take over, please?” You asked. 
“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”
“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes. 
“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so. 
You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest. 
He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. 
But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion. 
“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light. 
He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt. 
In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm. 
Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow. 
“S’big, Daddy!”
“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm. 
“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”
“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”
“No! Please!” You begged. 
Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”
And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his. 
Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out. 
But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”
“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs. 
This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you. 
“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”
You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss. 
He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were. 
And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit. 
“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” 
All you could do was squeak in reply. 
“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”
At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough. 
Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity. 
“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say. 
“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.” 
He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner. 
“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”
But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.” 
And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock. 
You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky. 
The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms. 
It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover. 
“I…wow,” was all you could say. 
“That was intense, huh?”
You nodded, your eyes watery. 
“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”
“I-I think I’m…okay.”
But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”
“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”
He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again. 
And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove.  Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing. 
Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock. 
He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration. 
He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything. 
He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm. 
“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”
“Please,” came your whisper. 
“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”
With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released. 
Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy. 
Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you. 
“Daddy!”
“Go ahead.”
This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it. 
“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out. 
Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release. 
Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space. 
“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”
You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more. 
And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it. 
He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer. 
“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”
You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him. 
“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”
“W-want you close,” you whispered. 
“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”
He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you. 
“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house. 
It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled. 
He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being. 
A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor. 
“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased. 
You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”
It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”
“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”
You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace. 
You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it. 
Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most. 
You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here. 
Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world. 
-
tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)
@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe
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koyagifs · 25 days ago
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Captain yn
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ʚɞ ateez x reader ʚɞ idol! | 9th member ʚɞ summary: yn being appointed the leader/ captain of ateez. ʚɞ word count: 718 words ʚɞ what if! yn was the captain instead of Hongjoong
9th member masterlist | ateez masterlist
𝓽 𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓷 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓽 - 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼
Yn and Hongjoong sat in the practice room, stretching before they began their dance routine. You've always admired Hongjoong, how he would always carry himself and he knew that. It's like he took you under his wing when he found out you'll be debuting with him.
The door opened to show a staff, a wide smile placed on their face. " ynie, how would you like to be the leader of Ateez?"
Your heart raced as you processed the staff member’s words. “Leader of ateez?” you echoed, disbelief mingling with excitement. You glanced at Hongjoong, whose thumbs-up only made the moment feel more surreal.
“Yes! We’ve been discussing it, and we think you’d be a great fit,” the staff member said, beaming at you. “Your energy and dedication have stood out during practice.”
You felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—honor, fear, and an overwhelming sense of possibility. “But… what about Hongjoong oppa? He would be an amazing leader, and he's older than me” you replied, glancing between them.
Hongjoong stepped forward, his expression steady and reassuring. “Y/N, age doesn’t define leadership. It’s about how you connect with the group and bring out the best in everyone. You have that spark.”
You felt a mix of disbelief and gratitude at his words. “But… I’ve always looked up to you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “How can I fill those shoes?”
“You won’t be filling my shoes; you’ll be wearing your own,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “I’ll always support you, no matter what. Being a leader isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being genuine and caring for the members. You’ve already shown that.”
The staff member nodded in agreement. “We believe in your potential, Y/N. You’ve got the talent and the heart to inspire others.”
Taking a deep breath, you began to feel the weight of the responsibility transform into excitement. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll give it my best shot.”
𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂 - 𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃 6𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓪𝓻𝔂
"We wouldn't be where we're at without our captain ynie~" Wooyoung sang, tears filling up your eyes as you looked at each of your members.
It was your 6th year together, and the moment felt surreal. You stood in the center of the practice room, surrounded by your ATEEZ family, who had become more than just teammates over the years—they were your support system, your laughter, your home.
“Wooyoung, stop! You’re going to make me cry!” you laughed, wiping away a tear that threatened to spill over. The other members joined in, their smiles wide and encouraging.
“Seriously, though,” San added, stepping closer. “You’ve led us through so much. We wouldn’t be here without your guidance and love.”
“Yeah! Remember that time you kept us all motivated during our toughest rehearsals?” Yunho chimed in. “You pushed us to be better, and it made all the difference.”
You felt your heart swell with emotion as each member shared their own little stories, reminding you of the countless moments you’d shared—the late-night practices, the inside jokes, and the shared dreams of debuting.
“Six years,” you murmured, your voice shaking slightly. “It feels like just yesterday we were all nervous rookies.”
“Now we’re seasoned pros,” Jongho teased, flexing his muscles playfully, which made everyone laugh.
You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “I couldn’t have asked for a better group to share this journey with. You all mean the world to me.”
The room was filled with a comfortable silence as you all soaked in the moment. Then, Hongjoong stepped forward, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You’re not just our leader, Y/N; you’re our heart. And we’re so grateful for you.”
You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his support. “Thank you, everyone. I promise to keep doing my best for all of you.”
As the energy in the room shifted from sentimental to playful, Wooyoung suddenly shouted, “Group hug!” And just like that, you were enveloped in a wave of warmth as all the members pulled you in, laughter echoing around the room.
In that moment, surrounded by your team, you knew that together you could face anything. And with six years behind you, the future was bright, filled with endless possibilities.
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