bluegardenn

[bluegardenn]

MY SHAYLAAA 😭❤️❤️

I love Bob

[bluegardenn]

EXPLANATION OF THE DRAMA WITH LEWIS

Sorry if the writing is bad, my native language is not English.

It seems that he has some kind of addiction to ZYN (which as I understand it, are nicotine packets), this is because there are photos of him at concerts, press conferences, photos with family, red carpets and even in the filming of his works (and yes, literally in the final versions of the products) where you can see that he has the ZYN package in his pants pockets, in addition to that in a recent interview for Thunderbolts he said that something he can not be without during filming and shooting is ZYN (he literally takes out the package and showed it), personally I don't think it's a big deal, I mean, obviously it's bad for your health, but he is already an adult responsible for himself and I don't think it's right to judge him the way they are doing.

THE IMAGES ARE NOT MINE!! I TOOK THEM FROM TWITTER AND PINTEREST.

[bluegardenn]

Me seeing how they are attacking Lewis on Twitter:

They're really crazy about the ZYN issue 😭

[bluegardenn]

I NEED SHE SO BADDD 😩

[bluegardenn]

Bye 😭

[bluegardenn]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Three

Gourd

Chapter Summary: You want to regret Sunday, but you don't. You find Rhett does not regret it either.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, Protected PinV sex, Choking (light), Cheating, Religious talk/references to Christianity, Fighting (not physical, just some strong words)

Word Count: 5,000ish

A/N: Wow... just... wow. Is all I can really say without breaking down and getting all sappy. The amount of love I have received on this series is absolutely unbelievable and never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought that would happen. I would like to apologize for my lack of communication and tardiness on getting this chapter out. Life happened... like GETTING ENGAGED! So thank my engagement for pulling me out of the slump I was in.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

The soapy water softened up the skin of your hands, your body repeating the same scrubbing motions since you had been there, two times a day, at least. Though you had only been there for a few days you had already fallen into a rhythm of helping Cecilia around the house. You hoped soon you would be able to visit your family more.

It was unusual of you not to visit your family more, but considering your truck barely made it to the ranch, and there was hardly anyone available to drive you home, you were grounded right where you were. 

As you were washing dishes, Perry kissed you before he walked out the door with Royal, going to check the cattle in the east pasture to see if they needed to be moved. Subconsciously, you wrinkled your nose at the smell on his jacket. That cold, empty smell of outside made you cringe. 

You had plans with Cecilia to go shopping later, and you were relieved at that. It had been planned ever since you got back from church when you two had looked around the pantry for certain items of food but never found them. The chances of a store being open on a Sunday was slim, which is why the task was saved for Monday. Then things got busy on Monday, which was why it was Tuesday and you are only now going shopping. 

But now you were panicking on the inside. By the way Cecilia was talking about the pain in her back, you knew she was not going to go with. Hopefully leaving you with her truck and not waiting in the house for when she feels better. 

“You should really go to the doctor, Cecilia. Have your back checked out.” You muttered over your shoulder, glancing back to see her stretching with her arms over her head.

“Don't have time for the doctor. Plus, laying in bed for a bit does the trick.” She quipped back, now shaking an ibuprofen or two into her palm before washing them down with some orange juice. 

“Maybe it’s your bed that is making your back hurt.” You joked.

Cecilia snorted at your comment, coming up behind you to put away the dishes you already washed. “Yeah, maybe miss smart-college-girl. Do you want a list of what I need? Or do you already have it memorized?”

Shrugging, you dried a hand off, itching your eyebrow. “I’ll probably need a list, thank you.”

She nodded and left to grab some notebook paper, the stairs creaking with each step she took. 

Not three dishes later, you heard two sets of feet walking down the stairs. Two voices, one Cecilia’s and the other sending trails of spiders crawling down your back. Your jaw locks up as you turn, you quickly dry your hands with the rag on the counter just before they stop in the kitchen before you.

Pulse quickening, you watched as Cecilia held the paper to Rhett, pointing and seemingly explaining the list. Rhett’s eyes flicker from you to the list, crossing his arms almost defensively in front of his chest. 

Cecilia calling your name draws your attention back to her, explaining that she had added a few bags of feed to the list and that Rhett was going to help haul all of the things you buy into the truck. Shyly, you smile and agree, accepting the paper to fold and shove into the back pocket of your jeans. 

Neither Rhett or you said a word as Cecilia went back up the stairs to her room, both of your heads turning simultaneously to watch her leave. 

Silence. Still. 

Since your incident in the parking lot, things have been the same. Quite literally the same. Painfully the same. 

Rhett acted like nothing had happened between you. When he drove out of the parking lot that was the last you saw of that particular side of him. He was friendly when he needed to be, but never went out of his way to talk to you or interact with you. 

But you felt his eyes on you more. Was it just an illusion, you didn't know. You catch him staring as you walk past his room, catch him staring when you help his mom make food. He was trying to be sneaky about it, you could tell. Rhett’s eyes only lingered when he thought you weren't looking, memorizing your body. Trying to see what he didn’t in the truck. 

You couldn't decide if the sudden lack of attention was relieving or if it was hurtful. The pang in your chest screamed the latter but your brain knew it was for the best.  

“I uh, just need to finish-” You turned away from him and to the sink, the porcelain glaring at you in the morning sun, “-finish putting away the dishes. Then we can go.” 

“Your truck or mine?” He asked simply, unmoving from where you left him.

“I say yours. Mine has been acting weird. Like I told you.” It was rude to be acting so short with him, but if you dared to speak with any more vigor you were sure you would die. Already your body felt hot, like you were a piece of paper thrown in a fire. 

“This fuckin’ sucks.” 

Shocked at his sudden words, your body whips around to see that he had come a few steps closer, the dining table was the only barrier between the two of you. He was no longer crossing his arms, hands now placed firmly on the table, leaning over them and looking at you as if he could see right through your clothes. His look made you weak in the knees, a twinge of pleasure settling in your hips. 

“Wha- excuse me?” Your voice came out squeaky, making you flush in embarrassment. The look on your face was probably comical, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in complete shock. 

The fear you felt was unimaginable as you watched him push himself off the table, rounding it and coming right for you. Only your frantic breaths and the swishing of his jeans could be heard in the kitchen. Bracing yourself on the plasticy-feeling counter behind you.

 It only takes a few strides til he’s barely a foot in front of you. Your stomach turns as his fingers flit up the sides of your body, pulling up your shirt the tiniest bit. Rhett’s quick breaths fan over your face, making you dizzy with excitement. You had not been this close to him that morning in his truck, that same sharp smell of his cologne mixed with the soothing scent of gritty earth wrapped around you in a familiar fashion. 

“I said-” Rhett started, his warm fingers digging into your sides now, “this fucking sucks. You and me.” He emphasized the words slowly, dipping down so his mouth was right next to your ear. 

Quietly, you ask, “Do you regret it? What we did?” You had cottonmouth, the nervousness drying up your throat. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you close your eyes tight, preparing yourself for the answer. 

After a beat of silence he slowly shakes his head ‘no’, pulling you away from the counter and closer to him, “You make me wanna be so god damn selfish.” 

You make me wanna be so god damn selfish.

The grip of his hands tightened as you pulled back, eyes half-lidded and searching his window-illuminated face. Rhett was holding you there like you could float away with a light breeze. He looked worn. Heavy dark circles rested under his blue eyes, his lips bitten and cracked due to the weather. Even with his somewhat jarring appearance, you still saw him as the most handsome man you have ever seen. 

It is upsetting you are just now seeing him. Your heart panged with want. The want to be loved selfishly, the want to turn back the clock.

Rhett was the first to lean in, his blushed lips skimming yours, stealing your breath before diving head-first with teeth and a bruising force. 

It took no time to fall into a rhythm of kissing and touching, your bodies seemingly familiar and at ease with each other now more than ever. Rhett crowded you back against the counter. This time away from the window above the sink, a direct shot to the barn. 

Rhett shoved a jean-clad thigh between your legs, leaving you no choice but to grind down. The rough scratch of pleasure caused you to gasp, breaking the kiss. He took that time to kiss along your jaw and up your neck, whispering, “Gotta stay quiet, don’t want anyone to know we’re down here.” 

Biting your lip, you nodded, fighting the urge to whine again as he shoved his thigh higher. The seam of your jeans rubbed over your clit, leaving it aching. Rhett let his hands explore your body more freely than he did in the truck, fingertips sneaking higher and higher under your shirt. Greedy for more. 

You weren't much better. Pulling him so close he basically phased into you, shamelessly rutting against his thigh. 

“More- please…” You whined against his neck, gently suckling at his throbbing pulse. Light enough not to bruise but hard enough for him to let out a growl deep in his chest. 

“Turn.” Rhett muttered, guiding your body so you faced away from him. Backing up, you press your ass into the front of his jeans, grinning as he hissed in response. You teased him for a few more seconds, experimenting with how hard you pressed against him and the movement of your butt. Rhett soon had enough of it and placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you down till you were leaning on your forearms against the counter. 

Suddenly, it made you nervous. You knew what was coming next and all you thought about who was upstairs and who was outside in the barn. You were about to bare it all in the Abbott’s kitchen to someone who shouldn’t be seeing you this way. 

All of that melted away though when Rhett moved his hand around to your stomach and slipped his hand into the waistband of your pants, above your cotton panties. Spreading your legs so you encourage him to dip lower, he presses his crotch into your ass and covers your back with his front. 

-

Your head drooped when he pushed the head of his dick in, tentatively stretching the tight ring of muscle. You gasped as he slid out and pushed back, deeper this time and with more force than the last. Inch by inch until he was fully seated in your burning heat. 

The jeans around your knees prevent you from spreading your legs further, no matter how hard you strained against them. 

One of his hands slid from your waist and started rubbing the base of your spine in soothing circles, trying to get you to relax at the sudden intrusion. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby-” He mutters before pulling out and pushing in, “Squeezin’ my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your pussy clenched at his praise, tearing a little gasp from his throat before he dug his fingers into your ass hips and started railing you into the counter, like he couldn't help himself. Squeezing your eyes tight, you panted like a dog into the countertop, your moist breath making it slick to the touch. 

It was almost painful trying to stay quiet, your lungs burning as you buried your mouth in the crook of your elbow. Little whimpers and groans slipped out occasionally, the noises becoming more frequent as Rhett thrusted harder into your wet pussy. 

As much as you wanted to, you did not dare to lift your head to try and peer out the kitchen window to see where Royal and Perry were. You knew Rhett was keeping an eye out for you two, also not wanting to get caught in this position. You prayed Cecilia could not hear the wet slapping between your bodies, but you were almost positive her room was too far up to hear it. 

A particularly hard thrust startled you, sending you further up the counter, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface. Consequently your mouth slipped from your elbow and you let out a guttural moan. Rhett stilled his movements, seemingly listening for any movement upstairs. His thumbs rubbed against your naked hip bones gently, the callouses scratching ever so slightly. 

Roughly, he snaked an arm around your middle and peeled you off the counter. A soft squeak left your mouth but was cut short by Rhett’s free hand clamping around your throat. He held you there with enough pressure that you would stay put, but not enough to hurt you. To avoid looking out the window your eyes drifted up to the ceiling, cobwebs littering the surface. 

“Quiet.” He warned before fucking into you again, returning with the same force as before. The slight cutoff of your airway made it almost even more pleasurable, your vision going fuzzy around the edges, synchronized with the warmth rapidly spreading through your body. Rhett’s chest was pressed against your back, firmly there and heaving in time with his pants. 

The danger in his voice hung over you, draping you in vulnerability. This just spurred your pleasure instead of stopping it. The threat of someone coming in and seeing you two like this was oddly thrilling, being intimate with another man in his brother’s house.

Scruffy stubble scratched against your cheek, letting you know it was really him and not a dream. The gentle press of his fingers reminded you too, your own hands grasping at his wrist tightly. This new position changed how he was fucking you, his dick reaching an insanely pleasureful spot. Heat warmed your belly, your orgasm so close to overtaking you aided by your fantasy. 

Rhett mouthed at the joint between your neck and shoulder, the collar of your shirt pulled aside as he nips and sucks, never hard enough to leave a mark. The arm secured across your stomach dips lower and his fingers start to rub at your aching clit. 

“Rhett- shit, I’m gonna cum. I’m so close-” You wheeze out, back arching and lifting off his chest as you start to lose focus and eventually close your eyes in ecstasy. The grip on your throat tightened as you came, mouth open but no sound coming out. It was almost scary, this feeling of complete weightlessness. You could feel your heartbeat everywhere, from your feet to your fingertips. You were positive Rhett could feel your whole body pulsing as well as he fucked you through it. 

A grunt and a gasp sounded, Rhett burying his nose behind your ear as he finally came. Stilling after one final thrust into your pussy he filled up the condom separating you and him.  

When he removed his hand from your throat, it left a sweaty mark around it. In fact, your whole body was slick with sweat, t-shirt clinging to your body. You gulped for fresh air, your whole body vibrating in a raw state. Relaxing, your head dropped to Rhett’s broad shoulder. He was still holding you up, both arms wrapped around your chest and middle.

Gazing up at him was quite a sight. He was rather handsome, beads of sweat gathering on his brow. You couldn't tell if he was actually looking at you, or his eyes happened to be the tiniest bit open. Either way he nuzzled your cheek softly, drawing a small sigh from your lips. 

“W-We should get cleaned up and go to the s-store.” It literally took all your might to utter that one sentence, voice wavering like crazy. Rhett nodded behind you, his nose still pressed tightly into your head. He was slow to unravel his arms from you, taking his time brushing fingertips along your quivering stomach. 

Thankfully your hands shot out before you could fall face first into the counter when Rhett let go to pull off his condom and shove it in the trash can on the wall furthest from you. Without his warmth you were reminded of the cold Wyoming winter surrounding the house. Even with bleary eyes you managed to pull up your jeans, wincing when they went over your sensitive thighs. 

How Rhett managed to recover so fast amazed you. While you were still fumbling with the button on your pants, he had already cleaned up and was waiting for you by the door with a baseball hat on. Or maybe you were still too blissed out so you were moving at a snail’s pace. Whatever the case was, he still gave you a small smile when you arrived at the door, watching you pull on a sweater from the coat rack. 

When he noticed you struggling to get it situated he reached out and helped you pull it down to cover your exposed middle. The small gesture erased any worry you unknowingly were holding in your stomach. You thanked him quietly and returned the smile. It was oddly domestic, the way he was treating you. 

Out at his truck, Perry waved at you from the barn, seemingly hard at work with Royal. Guilt buried itself deep within your heart as you walked, offering a small wave back before Rhett caught your attention. He was standing at the passenger door of his truck, holding it open for you. When you approached him, you expected another smile, but he wasn't looking at you. No, he was looking over at the barn, a stony expression pressed firmly into his normally soft features. 

Was that… jealousy? You wondered as you sat down in the seat. It smelled the same way you remembered on Sunday. As Rhett walked around the truck you dared to take a peek at the back seat. You weren't sure if you were expecting anything to be back there. In fact, it was more cluttered since the last time you were here, with a jacket or two and maybe a box of tools. 

The shutting of a door startled you, whipping your head around to see that Rhett had entered the truck and had started it a moment later. Settling back in your seat, you stretch your legs out and buckle as the vehicle starts moving. 

Tension settled in the air, like thick fog. It was rolling off the man next to you in thick waves. His brow was crinkled as he stared intently at the snowy road ahead. The weather had not let up, and it was well into winter by now. Snow piled up high beyond your reach and gathered in the fields that once held crops and cattle. It lessened as town got closer, the mandated snow plowing starting once you got out of the county and into the small town. 

“Where first?” Rhett broke the silence, prompting you to pull out the paper his mother gave you. 

“Uhm…” You cleared your throat and looked at the crinkled paper, “It looks like… grocery, feed store, oh and then my momma’s house? I just remembered that she wanted me to pick up quilting scraps for Cecilia.” You finished, running your thumbs over the words. Rhett nodded and continued driving, always looking forward. 

The domestic feeling followed you like a lost puppy throughout your day with him. Pushing the cart as Rhett led, his hand always settled on the end of the basket, even if you insisted you could handle it. You read him off the list and followed him down the isles to what you needed. 

In public, he made no move to be close to you, as expected. There was too much risk to be seen by old friends or anyone who could be looking for gossip. But that didn't stop him from giving you invisible touches. A soft hand on the back, eyes lingering for longer than acceptable. Still high on the feeling of your orgasm, you leaned into the touches, welcoming them in the deserted aisles of the store. 

In the cereal aisle he reached up to the top shelf to grab a box of Special K and his flannel lifted up the tiniest bit. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of his taut stomach being exposed. Then, you had the realization that both the times you had fucked, never once did you get fully undressed. Your skirt was shoved up and this morning your pants were just pulled down. As you watched him place the box in the cart, you wondered to yourself. 

Would there be a ‘next time’ to get fully undressed? Would it be even worth it to try?

“What’s the hold-up?” Rhett inquired and you realized that he had been trying to pull the cart down the aisle but you had been standing like a statue, hands gripping the metal bar of the cart. 

“Oh, nothin’. Just thinkin’ to myself.” You offered up a weak smile but could tell he wasn't buying it. You could tell by the way he let out a long breath through his nose and how his fingers twitched by his sides. 

“Nothin’?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow in question. You nodded, starting to push the cart in the direction Rhett was trying to pull it. 

“Nothin’ that needs to be said here.” You finally answered after a few seconds. Rhett looked puzzled for a second, but then nodded, humming in agreement before going back to finding the boxes of uncooked pasta. 

At checkout you stood awkwardly by Rhett’s side as the cashier rang you up. She was a pretty brunette with nice teeth, probably only a little younger than Rhett. She beamed at him like he hung the moon, talking to him about how her daddy is so excited for the upcoming spring, and how she is too because that’s when rodeo season starts. 

Rhett obviously enjoyed the attention, smiling back at her and continuing the conversation. Your teeth clenched slightly, Rhett made a stupid joke and she laughed, pausing scanning the block of cheddar that was in her hands. It was dumb to get upset over this. Especially because the girl couldn't be older than twenty, and probably every young adult girl had a crush on The Hometown Hero Rhett Abbott. 

You forget that not everyone knows him like you do. Jesus, you had known him since he was born. Your momma literally has a picture in a photo album somewhere of you holding him as a baby, wailing his lungs out while you sat there with a pained smile on your face. Before he was mildly famous, before everyone loved him. 

When it came time to pay, you pulled out your wallet and handed the cashier the money Cecilia had given you for the trip. The brunette’s smile fell a tiny bit upon fully noticing you were there with Rhett, but was nice to you all the same as she counted out your change. Which made you feel better that she wasn't a jerk to you. 

But as you walked out into the freezing parking lot side by side with Rhett, your jealousy grew. Your hands clenched the plastic sacks of groceries as you walked. She was still nice to you, like she didn't see you as a threat. Like she knew you had no chance with Rhett. 

Speaking of Rhett, why was he shamelessly flirting with her when his cock was just buried in you not even two hours ago? You still ache between your thighs, your knees are just now not being wobbly. Anger bubbled inside you at that thought, jealousy making your stomach flip and feel nauseous. 

Fuck. Or maybe (the most possible answer) she knew you were Perry’s girlfriend. Gosh, Rhett does say that he talks about you a bunch. And you always forget that just because you went to college doesn't mean everyone forgot about you at home. As much as it sometimes felt that way. 

Inside the truck your anger and jealousy was replaced with guilt, a sensation you have grown used to ever since you arrived at Wabang. It hardly phased you anymore, the pit in your stomach. The pit was there for you to throw all your emotions into so you didn't have to worry about feeling for the time being. 

“Okay. I can practically hear you thinking. Tell me. Now.” Rhett demanded sternly at the wheel, a bit of annoyance in his tone. You narrowed your eyes at him, becoming irritated at his annoyance. Huffing, you turned back to the road leading you to the feed store. 

“I don't know, it just throws me off a little when you fuck me silly then turn around and flirt with the cashier!” You snark back at him, crossing your arms defensively. 

“Really? Well it throws me off when you practically beg me to fuck you and then still be with Perry Why dont you just break up with him?” He growled, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. Rhett glanced at you a few times while you struggled to come up with something to say.

His statement absolutely floored you. 

“Break up with him?” You ask, as if you hadn't heard what he said the first time, “Break up with him?” You repeat louder and Rhett gives a curt nod of his head, “Rhett I can't just do that! Break up with him and what? Be with you? You realize how horrible that would turn out for the both of us?” You laugh in disbelief, feeling like you are hyperventilating as he parks the truck in the feed store lot. 

He turns the key and cuts the engine, turning towards you, “Why do you care so much about him? You literally just told me that you hate him at church, how you feel like he just wants to have a housewife.” He reminds you, brow furrowed and talking quite loudly. Now you were definitely hyperventilating, looking at him with wide, searching eyes and your mouth goes dry.

“Because I’m scared of him, Rhett! Because he gets so mad when I act wrong, I can’t imagine what he would do if he found out I was fuckin’ his brother of all people! He’d kill you and me both.” You trembled in your seat and shoved your face in your hands, trying to calm your erratic breathing. Rhett was silent, but you could feel his eyes on you as you tried to hold back tears. You knew Rhett had seen Perry’s rage before, even as kids his attitude would turn on a dime and he’d snap over the smallest things. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yellin’ at you.” Rhett starts quietly, his hand resting on your shoulder tentatively, “Please- please don't-” He murmurs and slowly rubs your back as you sniffle, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“No, it’s fine-” You start, wiping your cheeks on your sleeve.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” He apologies again, interrupting you. 

Looking at him, you nod, sighing deep before continuing, “Well I’m sorry for being unfair to you.” You conclude and flip down the sun shade, looking at yourself in the mirror and drying up your snot with your sleeve. 

“Should we go in?” You ask and Rhett nods silently, following your lead as you get out and head into the store. 

It was quick and simple, just grab a few bags and load them up into the bed of the truck. You forgot how nice feed stores smell, always like wood chips and grass.Thank god the cashier was an older man who said no more than three words to the both of you. 

Lovely. Someone Rhett wont flirt with. You thought bitterly. 

Next, you gave instructions to your mother’s house. You would have figured Rhett would know how to get there by now since he spent so much time there with your younger siblings. 

The exterior of the house was decorated in greens and reds, even if it was a week till Christmas. Your family was always big on Christmas, matching pajamas, holiday cards, caroling, the whole nine yards. It was crowded when you were a kid but even more crowded now that your older siblings had kids. 

“You should come inside. My mom would kill me if she knew I left you out here.” You advised before getting out of the truck and heading for the front door. You heard his door shut before ringing the doorbell, Rhett’s feet crunching over the ice melt to get to you. 

The smell of the wax warmer hit you in the face when your momma opened the door, squealing excitedly before hugging you tightly. After she was done smothering you she then did the same to Rhett, who looked shocked at her outward display of affection. 

“Oh come on you guys! Don’t let the warm air escape, get inside!” She ushered you in and shut the door tightly, locking it like that would shoo away the cold outside. 

“Wow, the house smells wonderful. What’s the name of this wax melt?” You ask as you wander from the front foyer and into the kitchen, of course taking off your snowy shoes at the mat at the door. You didn’t wait for Rhett. 

“Spun Sugar Flurries. Your dad went to the Walmart in Lander to get it for me.” She answered matter-of-factly before turning on her electric mixer and turning off the stove. Your mother was an absolute tornado in the kitchen. She always had to have about five different things going at once to keep her happy. If she could she would grow an extra arm to carry a grandbaby around with her too. 

“Smells wonderful, ma’am.” Rhett added from behind you, looking around at the very decorated kitchen. Your mom blushed at the compliment, swatting his shoulder playfully as she walked past and to the pantry. 

“So mom, where is all that stuff you wanted me to grab for Cecilia?” You call, hoping she can hear you over all the rustling she is doing in the tiny room. 

“Oh! In the craft closet upstairs. It should be in a red and yellow reusable bag… Do me a favor and also bring down my embroidery stuff too!” She replies, emerging from the pantry with a few bags of something, “Rhett, darling. Will you stay down here with me and be my taste-tester for a tiny bit? I have something I will be pullin’ out of the oven in a second.” 

Rhett glances at you before answering, “Of course. I’d love to.” 

Taking that as a sign to leave, you bound up the stairs and down the hall to the smaller door. It was always weird coming home after being away. How things change without your input. Like, this wall in the house wasn't always this light teal blue color. Last time you were here it was cream like the rest of the house. You wanted to explore your room too to see how your sister might have changed it, but you decided against it. 

Your sister had a sixth sense and could totally tell if you had messed with her things. 

The supplies were right where your mom had said they would be, in that red and yellow reusable bag. It was heavier than you expected but still held it with one hand as you grabbed her embroidery things as requested. 

You find your mom and Rhett hovering over a silver baking sheet on the stove, the both of them turning around as you come down the steps. Pulling out a chair at the dining room table you drop the embroidery down on it, striding over to them. 

“Rhett, we better get going. Don't want your ma to have to wait longer for her groceries.” You gently remind him and he nods, but not before snapping off a piece of, is that peppermint bark? And popping it into his mouth. Your sweet mother quickly packs up a ziploc bag of little candies for you to take back with you, but not before hugging and kissing you both goodbye. 

Out at the truck you are silent, again. The drive back is silent, again. You fear the fight may have damaged your relationship more than you thought. 

Catch me on AO3 under Creatchie8 too! See ya laterrrr!

[bluegardenn]

How it felt to see Bob Reynolds for the first time in Thunderbolts:

[bluegardenn]

The way I become this every time I see this man…

[bluegardenn]

This is going to sound weird but…

This is going to sound weird but the number of times I've looked for a fanfic about one of the two Bobs (Bob Floyd or Bob Reynolds) with a reader dancing in a nightclub or a Camgirl is not normal. 💔

If any writer is reading this, please write something about this I really think it would be amazing. 😭🫩

And if you know of any fanfic that has a story like this, at this point I'm not interested in which Lewis character it is, please tell me. 😩

[bluegardenn]

PLEASE READERS OF FANFICS ABOUT RHETT ABBOTT I NEED YOUR HELP SO MUCHHH 😭😭 💔

I read a fanfic about where the reader became a famous singer and left the town, some time later she returns and Rhett hates her, it is not very well said why he hates her so much. I also remember that there was a part where the Abbott family invited you to eat and Amy was a big fan of the reader. I also remember something about the reader going to buy new clothes in a small boutique in town.

I NEED HELP PLEASEEEEW

[bluegardenn]

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

☆˚₊‧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚗-𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗. 𝚙𝚝.𝟹/𝟺 𐙚₊˚

⋆★⋆ kiss me and tell me that you'll stay. ⋆★⋆ Part 1 & Part 2.

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: pushing it down and praying by lizzie mcalpine (3:54) // ༉‧₊˚ " he gives what he can, but now i don't know what he's giving for. " ᝰ.ᐟ

✰ pairing: calvin evans x fem!lab tech!reader

✰ cw: (no use of y/n & not proofread) smut, oral (f!recieving), calvin is a munch, revelation of feelings, kissing, exhibitionism if you squint, spit kink if you squint, swearing, some major yearning, angsty at the end, cliff hanger.. sorry

✰ word count: 3.1k+

✰ summary: you and calvin develop feelings for each other over the span of months and get to know each other better, but the entire thing with fran and her friends detests you from getting with him. until calvin takes you from your lab and brings you into his own and feelings among other things are exchanged.

(IMPORTANT: collaborated with @sammygidd with writing process + planning)

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ calvin ⚛︎ fran ✿ dr. donatti ☔︎

The stars glistened outside of the window of the lab the both of you were in, working late once more, added to the tally of the days spent in his own lab. Calvin was sitting at one of the counters, looking over his notes, jotting down corrections every so often. You were sitting, more like lying down on his battered couch that has been victim to too many chemical spills and burns throughout his time at Hastings. His head perked up from his notebook as he heard you softly snoring, the moon emitting a light overtop of your sleeping face. 

His eyes scanning over you for a moment too long, taking in your features.. Making little mental notes on how you looked while sleeping. “Wow ..” He quickly caught himself muttering something so simple under his breath, clearing his throat, but something that meant so much — he was catching feelings for you, strong ones. He rested his head on his hand, just watching you sleep. Your hair framing your face, a strand falling overtop one of your eyes. Calvin hesitated before his hand reached out, tucking the loose strand behind your ear, his thumb resting against your cheek for a little too long. He revoked his hand almost immediately as he saw you stir, pretending as if he were writing his notes. 

Your eyes slowly flutter open as you wake up, taking in the dimly lit lab around you – lifting your head, and stretching in the process. You yawned softly, looking over your shoulder to see Calvin taking some notes. “What have you written so far?” Speaking softly, a soft rasp to your voice, you smiled. “Uhm--” Calvin looked down at his notes, noticing that there were smudges on the page from when you took his attention. “Just on trends with electronegativity in the periodic table.. But– it’s all smudged." Calvin tsked as he realised that the ink got onto the sleeves of his button up and over the sides of his hands, his hands pushed up his sleeves to his elbows. 

In your sleep-induced state, you couldn’t help but stare - your lips parted slightly as your gaze trailed over his arms, like the first time. You then grabbed his notes off the table, trying to deduce his smudged writing and drawings, standing up you walked over to the sink. The uneven tiling caused you to stumble a bit, but then arms circled your waist. “Hey– hey, whoa. Careful.” Calvin helped you stand up straight, you then became very aware of the proximity or lack thereof between the two of you. “I don’t need my science partner falling on me.” A small smirk graced his face as he tucked a strand of hair that was disturbed from your near fall, his touch lingered just for a moment. Then an inch closer, you could feel the heat of his breath - your nerves on fire as his fingers grazed your waist. But something told you to tear away, told you that this was wrong - that you were feeding into the rumours Fran and her friends developed about you and Calvin, you didn’t want to prove them right. “I should go home– it’s late.” You nodded to yourself, avoiding his eye contact as you stepped away. Calvin’s hands slipped from your waist as you stepped away, grabbing your things. “Wait– I.. I’m sorry.” Calvin started up,

“No, Calvin. You’re fine.” You grabbed your necessities from your desk, shoving them haphazardly into your bag. “I didn’t mean for it to be like that—” “I’m not saying you did.” You finally met his gaze, his blue eyes boring into your own - full of confusion, sadness and something you couldn’t quite note. Calvin grew silent at your remark, leaning back against the sink. “Goodnight, Dr. Evans.”

Calvin was going to respond when he heard you call him by his title, reminding him of the separation between the two of your roles in the lab - a reversal of everything the two of you have built in a way too, all because he got a little lovestruck. “Goodnight.” Calvin looked to the ground, not looking up till you left - not wanting to cement the image of you leaving him all alone in his mind. As he heard the click of your heels retreating and the familiar close of his lab door, it felt quiet. The quiet that he typically enjoyed, the solitude and the isolation from everyone else. But now it just felt empty, saddening.

You two never talked about that late night in the lab, never talked about the light touches, the closeness, the intimacy - you both preferred not to have that conversation. Regardless, over the span of a couple more weeks, you and Calvin continued to grow closer learning the little things, like how he hated the rain but loved water like lakes and rivers, how he got into chemistry in the first place. Calvin showed you a side you didn’t know existed in people, tranquility, kindness, acceptance. He listened to you and seemed  The scientists and secretaries gossiped about it, continuously. Earning you weird looks in the hallway whenever you were beside him, or walking to his lab. But you didn’t mind it, at least you thought you didn’t. 

You were in your designated lab, keeping to yourself - looking over some notes Calvin gave you a couple hours ago. Speak of the Devil, Calvin just walked in, looking over the place quickly, practically radiating nervous energy until his gaze landed on you. Without a single word, Calvin walked over to you, a hand placed to your lower back as he directed you out of the room. “Calvin? What’s going on?” He didn’t say a thing, walking you into his lab a couple doors down. You were looking around, confused. “If this is about the other night, I really don't–” He then pulled you into a kiss, you immediately pulled back. “Calvin, I–” You placed a hand to your lips, looking up at him. You detested these thoughts for so long, but now it seems like nothing could be anymore right. You looked at him, just for a beat, before pulling him into another kiss. This one more heated, his hands moved to your hips - his touch tentative at first, fingers lightly grazing your hip bone. “Tell me that you want this– please.” Calvin mumbled against your lips, the words spilling out before he could process them. “I want this, Calvin.” “I know– I know that this isn’t professional..” “I don’t care about being professional right now, not with you.” Then something shifted in him, you felt it in the air - like your words just broke all of the restraints. His arms wrapped around your waist, moving to sit you on a clearing on one of the lab tables.

“Don’t touch or break anything.” His tone authoritative, he looked over you - as if, if he didn’t keep you in his sights you’d disappear. Silence fell over the two of you, the sound of heaving breaths filling the space - you tentatively bit your lip looking up at him.

Calvin’s tongue flicked over his lips, staring you down as he raised a hand to pull your kissed bottom lip from your teeth - dragging it down until his thumb let go of it. “I want to go down on you.” His blatant request took you by surprise, but the way he was looking at you like an experiment made your stomach flip.

“I– I want that too, but you dont need–” You cut yourself off as he moved to kneel on his knees in front of you. He was eager, and he wanted this too, almost more than you. You watched as he rolled up his sleeves, unbuttoning the cuffs - revealing the toned arms you’ve grown to love so much. He looked up at you, his eyes boring into yours as he opened a couple of the top buttons on his shirt. “If you make a mess you clean it.” Calvin looked dead serious as he moved closer to you - hands pushing up your skirt. His fingers gently tracing the patterns of the tights you wore, he muttered a compliment under his breath you couldn’t hear over the beating of your own heart. He made quick work of the buckles on your shoes placing them down neatly beside him, his gaze returning to the tights.

“As much as I love these, I’d much rather have them off." “Mhm–” “Lift your hips.” You complied, lifting your hips off the counter a bit as he started to take off the stretchy fabric. Your discarded tights joined your shoes beside him. 

Calvin’s hands then moved over your legs, feeling the soft skin beneath his palms without the covering cloth, his hands were big against your legs, the veins defined as his hands gripped onto the underneath of your thighs - pulling you closer to the edge of the counter.

Calvin then bunched your skirt to your hips, placing a kiss to the top of your knee, then one closer to the inside of your leg, then your thigh - placing a soft bite to the inside of the smooth skin, easing it over with an apology kiss. 

The sensation was good on its own, but it was the way his eyes were watching your face the entire time, watching your reactions and what felt good. His large hands returned to your legs, parting your thighs so he could nestle himself further between them. His pointer finger trailed down the edge of your panties, taking note of the way the lace felt under his touch and how your breath hitched in response.

Your hand moved down to cup the side of his face, he moved his head to kiss your palm - his kisses trailing up to the tip of your fingers, taking two of them into his mouth. As the warm heat of his mouth enveloped your fingers, your jaw dropped a bit - lips parted as you watched him suckle them. His eyes hooded and staring into yours made a soft whimper come out of you. 

Calvin retracted, your fingers leaving his mouth - he placed a soft kiss to the wet digits before resuming his previous state. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, moving impossibly closer to your core. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh next to your soaked cunt, then another over your clothed slit - earning yet another moan from you.

Long fingers moved aside your laced panties, leaning back onto his calves as he admired the state of you. Kissed lips, the blush creeping up your neck, the way your pussy fluttered around nothing as he examined you like he was about to take you apart, which in a way he was.

Calvin then dove in, not wanting to waste another moment. He licked a stripe all the way from your entrance to your clit, eyes trained on yours the entire time. He took your clit into your mouth, noting how your hands scrambled into his hair - encouraging him further. He rolled the swollen nub between his teeth and tongue, a bit of spit and mixture of your arousal dripping down the side of his mouth. 

His mouth then moved down to your entrance, lapping at your arousal like a dog - tongue poking into your heat a bit. Calvin’s nose bumped against your clit, earning a moan from you - your head fell back, colliding with a couple beakers, making them clatter against each other from the force. 

Calvin’s voice was muffled against your pussy but you could still hear him and feel the vibrations, “What did I say?” “S-Sorry..” You placed a hand over your mouth being reminded that you were in a public space, and as Calvin continued his rhythm without faltering, your hands tightened in his neatly combed hair but he didn’t care, not in the slightest.

Calvin continued to lap at your cunt, tongue picking up any arousal that poured out of you - his mouth then placed a couple kisses to your inner thigh, moving back onto his calves again. Then you noticed the sheer amount of slick and spit that coated his mouth, chin and tip of his nose, a small whimper extracted from you. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, tasting you on him - earning a small groan from him.

His fingers moved to your pussy, the coldness of them a stark contrast to your aching, hot core. Calvin’s middle and pointer fingers pulled back your folds, revealing you completely to him - watching as your core clenched around nothing. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll let you cum.” He moved back in, his pace increasing tenfold, eager to make you cum on his tongue. Your hands weaved themselves back into his hair, tugging at the roots - making him groan softly against you. His hands moved to the undersides of your thighs, moving them further apart. 

You felt that coil tighten in your stomach, “Calvin– I- I’m gonna..” But Calvin didn't say a word, his eyes trained on your face eager for your reaction as he moved his tongue faster against your weeping cunt. 

Your heels dug into his back as your orgasm overcame you, your moans bouncing off the walls. You didn’t care if people heard you at this point. Calvin held you through it - not letting up with his tongue until you were pushing at his shoulders from overstimulation. 

Calvin moved back, the only sound in the room being both of your heaving breaths, Calvin wiped your slick from his face - gently pulling your panties back overtop your core, placing a kiss to your thigh before pulling your skirt back down your body. He eventually rose from his spot, running a hand through his tugged tugged hair.

Calvin then let out a frustrated sigh as he looked down at himself. “Now my pants are all scuffed--"Calvin mumbled, wiping off some of the dust from the floor that made its way onto the knees of his pants. You were watching him the entire time, breath still heaving, then you grew bored. You placed a hand to the side of Calvin’s face, tilting his head back to yours. Your other hand moved to his arm, pulling him into another heated kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips but you didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to care about his pants all that much anymore.

– – – – – – – –

The next day, you came into work earlier than you usually did and took more time that morning doing your hair and makeup, not really thinking that Calvin would notice that much, but he was observant and it doesn’t hurt to feel prettier than usual for a day. You walked into your lab first, setting down your things - noticing how the scientists just stared at you, sharing laughs and whispers. “More dolled up than you usually are Lab Tech, any reason why?” “Any scientists you’re trying to impress?” “Anyone need supplies from Evans’ office?”

And you just stood there, staring at them all - and you wondered if Calvin told them about what you did, but Calvin wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t the type and he openly says that he doesn’t talk to these idiots anyways, but you still worry and you still spiral. Maybe someone heard something? Or maybe people just started talking again because both you and Calvin walked out of this very lab you were in, in a hurry. Or maybe people heard you, that would be the most obvious one.

You needed to find Calvin, and fast. Ask him to explain everything and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding and it was all under control, give you some peace of mind. You walked out of the lab, ignoring the hoots and whistles as you did. You beelined for Calvin’s lab, but as you were walking down the hallway - you saw Calvin walking down the same one from the opposite way, then he caught sight of you, stepping back for a moment before returning the same way he came from. You were lost and confused, was he ignoring you? Was this all a ploy to get you fired? What was he doing? You had so many questions yet no answers, you then felt a hand on your shoulder - you quickly turned around, shrugging it off. It was Fran, her voice quiet and almost mocking as you saw the slight smirk on her face and the enjoyment radiating off of her, “Dr. Donatti needs to see you right now, hun. He says it’s important.” “Yeah… I’ll be there in a minute, I just need to-” “He said now, not in a minute.” 

You let you a sigh, walking down the hallway to Dr. Donatti’s office. People stared at you and whispered, and you just had to stay there and take it.

“We’ve heard things of a relationship that is evolving between you and Dr. Calvin, a romantic relationship between a lab tech and a chemist is against our policy and promotes an uncomfortable workspace.” You shifted in your seat a bit, “We’re not together, Dr. Donatti. I can promise you that, it’s just rumours.” It was true for the most part, you and Calvin never actually confirmed anything, just had a hookup, whether that hookup was meaningless or not was still up in the air.

“Even if they’re just rumours, we cannot risk our reputation here. Fran will help you pack your things, I’ll give you a few days to say your goodbyes.” “What?-- n-no, you can’t do that. I’ve worked so hard for this job, for you.” “You’re just a lab tech, you can be easily replaced, sweetheart.” That pet name made your blood boil, you stood up. “Is Calvin getting fired?” “No, he’s a chemist.” “If you’re firing me for committing what you propose, you should fire him too, he committed to it as much as I did.” “So you admit, there is something going on between you and Dr. Evans?” “That’s– that’s besides the point, you’re being unfair. You’re being subjective and sexist.” 

Donatti also stood up, “What gives you the authority to speak to me with such a tone, proclaiming I’m sexist for wanting to protect Hasting’s reputation.” “And you’re proclaiming that rumours about me that for the majority aren’t true are justifiable enough to fire me.”

Dr. Donatti hesitated, “Y..You–” He fell silent for a moment, “I’ll talk to the board about.. reconsidering your termination.” You can tell he was apprehensive saying that. You didn’t say anything in return, you didn’t say thank you - grabbing your things and leaving his office. You were going to find Calvin and you were going to speak to him, if it was the last thing you did at this job. Stalking towards his lab, your eyes stung and it felt like the world was staring at you, you made your way to the familiar door, hand grabbing the handle.

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taglist; @gryffindorquid-ditchcap-blog, @hushhhs09 @justsomerandompersonintheworld, @yagurlannastasia, @cultish-corner, @lynn7nunez, @emma8895eb, @the-lynnie-the-pooh @itzbowiepullman

[bluegardenn]

Lewis Pullman in Lessons in Chemistry (1x01)

[bluegardenn]

Idiots At a Wedding pt3

Summary: Pretending to be Bob's girlfriend in front of his family has to be easy right? Right...?

Pairings: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing 😛😛, unholy thoughts, use of the phrase 'good girl' (cause I'm freaky like that), lies (as if the whole story isn't about that)

A/N: I love each and every single one of you so so so much, I can't even tell you. I've tried to fit everyone into the taglist, but it seems to be running out of my hands, so is any of you have a suggestion on what to do please help, also if your name was missed please tell me. Anyway, happy reading, and please don't be a stranger.

series masterlist || part 4

Even though Bob was away from you for the whole day, running errands with Jeff while you were with the ladies, you kept playing on his mind like a broken record. He couldn't stop the image of your tear stained face and puffy, red eyes from coming to him in the middle of home depot. He kept going over all that might have gone wrong, maybe he said something, maybe you didn't like being here with him. But none of it made any sense.

The only thing that stood out to him was how many times you had repeated that you really liked his family. He didn't know anything about your family, which now seemed fishy to him. You had even stopped yourself from speaking about them the day the two of you had arrived. It all felt wrong, incredibly wrong to Bob and his concern was just increasing as the hours went by.

He was lost in his own thoughts, sitting outside of a small local Cafe with Jeff when he was snapped out of them by his brother-in-law.

"Hey, Bob. Bob." He waved his hand in front of the younger man to gain his attention. "You okay? You've been awfully quiet today. More than usual."

"I'm fine Jeff. It's just-" He contemplated telling Jeff bout what had happend today, but he decided against it, not wanting to disrespect your privacy. "It's nothing."

"Come on man, you don't need to hide anything from me. What's up?" Jeff pushed and Bob gave in. He shifted in his seat, holding his up of coffee tightly in his hands, eyes fixed on the clouds made by the cream.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, not even Annie."

"I swear." Jeff promised.

"Sunny was crying before we came here." Bob started carefully. "When I asked her what's wrong, she just said she really likes all of you. I-I can't shake the feeling somethings wrong Jeff, I just can't."

"Is somthing wrong at work?" Jeff offered, trying to come up with what could have gone wrong.

"No its not. If something would have happened at work I would have been notified as well." Bob shot down his suggestion quickly.

"Right, forgot yall work together." Jeff whispered, still thinking. "Maybe its somthing to do with her family. What's her relationship with them like?"

The question was simple enough, what is your equation like with your family. But Bob was at a loss for words. He didn't know anything about your family, he didn't even know if you had any siblings. Thinking about it now, he realized no one form the whole squad knew about your family. Everytime this topic was brought up, you would always go quiet or will others to talk about theris, never once reveling anything about your own.

"I-I don't know." Bob whispered.

"You don't know? How's that possible?" The older man asked, shocked.

"She never talks about them, to anyone. The entire squad is unaware of her family situation." Bob elaborated, his worry increasing by the second. "The other night, she even stopped herself before she accidentally let somthing slip out about them. I get that not everyone has the best relationship with their family and that she dosen't have to tell me of she dosen't want to. But I'm just really worried."

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, going over what they had just discussed in their minds, trying to come up with a solution.

Jeff was the one who broke the silence once again. "It's good that you gave her the space she needs right now. Let her have that for tonight, don't try and force anything out of her and don't treat her like glass. Just go to dinner with Peter's family today and be normal, just the way would be. She'll come and talk to you about whatever wrong whenever she feels like it, the more you push the more she'll shut down. Till then, just love her the way you do."

The advice was sound, go back home, pretend everything's okay. Go to dinner, pretending everything normal. With all the pretending Bob had done in the two days of the wedding, he was sure he'd make a fine con artist if he put his mind to it.

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

The sun was already setting by the time the two men finished their chores and came back home. For the duration of the wedding, everyone was living in the same house, causing chaos to erupt everywhere. But when they entered the house, they were met with utter silence insted of the usual mess. The living room, patio, backyard and kitchen were all empty, indicating that everyone was in their rooms.

Jeff excused himself to go find Annie, as Bob headed towards his room. He dreaded having to pretend things were alright with evey step he took, but deep down he was also glad he would get to see you again. With each passing day, he was growing fonder and fonder of you, of your company, of your laugh, of your eyes. He was still scared shitless, scared that he would screw this up in some way. But whenever he was with you, a his fears just seemed to vanish.

Upon reaching the door to his room, Bob knocked on it, gently calling out your name and waited for you to open the door. But a few moments had passed and you still hadn't opened it. He pushed it in softly and the sight that beheld him was like none other.

The orange hue of the sunset was peaking in through the curtains, casting a glow on your sleeping body. He crossed the room quietly and kneeled down in front of your peaceful face, getting ready to wake you up. But his heart just won't allow him to upon seeing how all the worries and tensions had disappeared from your face when you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

Your hair was a mess, spread over the pillow forming odd shapes, your mouth was agape as soft snores left it. Bob wanted to take a photo, seal this moment in his phone forever, but for now, his memory had to do. If anyone was to ask him what was the moment he know he wasin love, his mind would without a doubt go right back to this moment. The day he saw the sun sleep.

"Sunny, sunny, wake up." He whispered, placing his hand on your shoulder and shaking you gently to try and coax you out of slumber. "Wakie wakie. Rise and shine honey."

"5 more minutes." You mumbled, burying your face further into the pillow, making him smile at the sight.

"What dinner?" You mumbled, still half asleep.

"Come on sweetheart, you've gotta get up. Otherwise you're gonna miss the dinner party." He tried bribing you with dinner, which worked like a charm.

"I knew that would get you up." Bob chuckled. "We're going to have dinner at Peter's house tonight. We gotta get ready for that, we're leaving in a bit."

"But Bobby, I haven't had a nap in ages." You whined, stretching out your legs with a big yawn.

"I know, neither have I. Maverick doesn't really leave time for naps does he?"

"Nope, he's a little meanie." You babbled.

"That he is. But right now you've gotta get up and get dressed, or your gonna have to face ma's wrath. And believe me, she's a bigger meanie that Mav."

Reluctantly, you sat up straight in bed, sleep still swimming in your eyes.

"There she is." Bob remarked, clapping his hands together. He got up from near your bed and moved to his dresser to take out what he was going to wear tonight. "Now, be a good girl and get dressed. I'll go get ready in the downstairs bathroom. And no falling asleep again."

If there was any sleep left in your body, it had vanished upon hearing sweet, innocent Bob Floyd call you a good girl. It made you want to jump his bones right then and there, and go at it till the neighbors hated you. But thank god Bob had left the room by then.

You moved across the room, gathering all the stuff you needed to get ready and quickly hopped into the shower. The Texas heat was unforgiving, but you also need the cold shower to get the unholy thoughts out of your mind. After about twenty minutes, you were fully dressed, and in a conundrum. The biggest dilemma you had faced yet. You were racking your brain trying to figure out which shoes to wear, the heels or the flats.

Mid thought you realized you were in a house ull of women, you could just ask anyone of them for input. Slipping one of each shoe on you feet, you waddled down the stairs, not in the mood to trip and break your front teeth right before the wedding. The room was bustling with loud sonds of everyone getting ready. Lucy's hair dryer was humming on full blast as she dried her hair at the kitchen counter outlet cause the one in her room had blown up. Annie and Jeff were running after a half naked Andy who was enjoying giving his parents a hard time, Mary was frantically searching for her phone around the house as Bob kept calling it in order to here his mother.

"It's on silent Robert, I'm not going to be able to find it." She screamed, running from one place to another like a headless chicken.

"Is this a bad time to ask for fashion advice?" You spoke up, standing on the last step where Bob was leaning against the railing.

He whipped his head back to take a look at you with such speed, you feared he may have gotten whiplash.

"You look-" He said, mouth hanging open with awe. "Incredible."

"Only from the top." You responded, motioning towards your mismatched shoes.

"Oh, can't decide?" He diverted his eyes from your face to look at you shoes. "They both look good."

"I know they look good, the only thing is which one should I wear. The flats are nice, but the heels go better with the outfit. Only thing is, I don't wanna look taller than you, kinda throws everything off." You mused, inspecting both the shoes properly.

"You won't look taller than me." Bob replied. "Wear the heels."

"You sure? We're practically the sa-"

"Come here. Stand next to me." He grabbed you hand and helped you down, as you stood next to him. You were expecting Bob would be proved wrong and you'd have to go with he flats, but when you looked up at him, he still towered over you, tall and broad.

"See, I told you it won't happen. Now you can wear the heels in peace." He slipped the phone from his hand into his pocket and once again leaned against the railing.

"Hm, interesting." You noted, and turned around to go get the other shoe, when he stopped you.

"What's interesting?" He questioned.

"I could never wear heels with any of my exes." You replied. As soon as the world's came out, you realized he wasn't actually your boyfriend and quickly corrected yourself. "Of course you're not my-"

It seemed like it was you day of getting interrupted when Bob phone rang loudly, cutting you off midway.

"Mama, why are you calling me?" He asked with confusion, looking down at the caller ID.

"Didn't you lose your phone?" Mary shouted, appearing from behind the wall to see you two standing. "Oops, did I interrupt you two lovebird?"

"Weren't you the one who lost her phone?" Bob ignored his mother's remark, which clearly had an effect on him, seen clearly cause of his rosy cheeks. You just looked the other way, in attempts to hide your laughter and embarrassment.

"Oh did I? Well I found it now." Mary shrugged, about to leave you two when she noticed you mismatched shoes. "Oh you've got to different shoes on sweetie."

"Yeah, I was just asking Bob which one I should wear." You explained.

Mary gasped and the let put a breathy laugh with her head falling back. "I remember when I used to ask Daryl what to wear. His choices were so bad, I alway had go with the opposite of whatever he'd choose." She smiled fondly thinking of her husband, it was clear form her reaction there was a lot of love between the two of them. She walked away, patting Bob on his arm, leaving the two of you all alone once again.

"She never talks about dad." Bob whispered, bewildered at what his mother had just said.

"What?"

"She says it hurts too much." He elaborated. "I haven't heard her sound this happy while talking about him for a long, long time."

"Well, it's a good thing right?" You asked.

"The best."

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

Dinner was supposed to start at 7, but you all had reached Lucy's fiance's house thirty minutes late, fashionably late. Hugs were handed out like candy to everyone who entered and drinks were thrust in everyone's hands before they could even sit down. Soon enough, you all moved to the dinner table, where the food spread across the long table looked so appetizing.

Your mouth watered at the sight, your head immediately moving to look at Bob and whisper to him, "I'm so glad you woke me up for this."

He just laughed, a quiet, sincere laugh that reeked of peace and love.

Conversations on the dinner table flowed easy. Peter's family was busy recounting all the embarrassing moments in Lucy and Peter's life, from how they used to sneak in and out, to how they would always get caught when Andy stared fussing loudly.

"Everything alright?" Peter's mother, May, asked Annie who was no holding her son in her hands.

"He's a bit warm." She replied, causing Jeff to place his hand on Andy's forehead as well.

"He is." He confirmed. "Do you think he's sick?"

Annie didn't need to answer the question because the spurge of puke that came flying out of the child's mouth right onto his father's shirt was answer enough. They both immediately got up as chaos tool over the table.

"We should take him home." Annie said, as Jeff dug out his car keys out of his pocket.

"I'll come with you." Mary offered, taking Andy from the hands of her daughter, following her son-in-law towards the door.

"I'm so sorry May. I would have loved to stay and finish the meal. I know you worked hard on it." Annie apologized to the older woman.

"It's alright dear, it happens. You go and take care of Andy now. Make him all better in time for the wedding." She hugged Annie in a motherly fashion.

"If yall are ever thinking of having kids, don't." Annie warned the two couples left sitting at the table and then slipped right out the door.

"Look on the bright side," Peter's dad, Bill spoke up trying to lighthen the mood. "More food for us."

"I'll drink to that." You mumbled, bring your wine glass up to your lips.

"Right, where were we?" May mused. "Oh yes, we were about to tell you about the time we caught these two half naked in the pool."

"Okay mom. I think that's enough." Peter butted in, incredibly embarrassed. "They must be getting bored by all your stories."

"Oh not at all." Bob said, adding fuel the fire, earing a laugh out of you and a glare from his soon to be brother-in-law.

"Why don't you two tell us something about yourselves? Any embarrassing stories from when you two had stared dating?" Lucy asked innocently, not knowing thst she had put you in a tough spot.

You two had gone over the basics of your big fat lie, but this was something neither one of you knew how to answer. Bob looked at you, as you looked at him, desperation evident in both of your eyes. You could make up a story at the spot, but for both of you to come up with the same one would be impossible.

"Well, there was a time when-" Bob stopped mkd sentence, looking at you to come up with the rest of it.

"Our squad found out." You replied with the first thing that came to your mind. His eyes went wide with amusement, out of all the things you could have said, you chose to take the story in this absurd direction.

"They all lost their minds." He continued, a playful smirk taking over his face. "Especially Maverick."

"Especially Mav." You stressed. "He couldn't believe it at first, but when Rooster and Hangman brought him proof, boy did he believe us then."

"Maverick, Rooster, Hangman, what kind of names are these? Do they're parents don't like them?" May questioned confused.

"Oh they're callsigns." Bob cleared her confusion.

"What're yours?" Peter asked, intrigued.

"Well, mine is Bob." Bob said as if it was the most obvious thing in the word. "And her's is-"

"Sunshine." You took over. "But everyone just calls me Sunny. Anyways, our whole squad found out about us in the worst way possible, which Bob will tell you."

"Umm.. we were-" Bob looked at you helplessly when you threw him under the buss. "We accidentally kissed in front of everyone at the bar."

"Kissed?" You all but shouted, amused at the direction Bob was taking the story. "Oh yes, I remember that well. Quiet well."

"Everyone went absolutely silent, like they'd just seen a ghost or something."

"We didn't even realize what we'd done till we saw all their faces." You two played off of each other, coming up with the story, communicating to each other with your eyes, coming up with your greatest inside joke yet, leaving everyone else on the edges of their seats.

"They grilled us for two whole hours after that, got every little detail out of us, and then stupid Hangman went and ran his mouth off to Mav, landing us both a three hour lecture on workplace romances."

"Now now honey, Mav would have figure out any which way." You voiced, preparing to change the story.

"How?"

"Cause of your lovesick ogling throughout the day." The room erupted in laughter which snapped you both out of the little fantasy world you had created just between the two of you.

Even though you had just said it to continue the story, of Bob knew the truth of the matter. He did stare at you all lovesick the whole day, he only hoped you did the same.

The rest of the night went by quickly, or so it seemed. Through the mist of all the snicdotes and laughter, you had all lost track of time. By the time you decided it was time to go back home, it was already nearing midnight.

"There's no way in hell I'm walking all the way back home." Lucy sighed, slipping her heels off. "You two have fun walking down four blocks."

"Goodninght Lucy." You chucked, squeezing he shoulder, moving to May. "Thank you for dinner May, it was delicious."

"No thank you. I really enjoyed your company." She smiled.

"Especially cause we go to hear so much come out of Bobby's mouth." Bill added. "I swear this is the most I've heard the boy talk."

"It seems I have that effect on him." You said your goodbyes and walked out the door. The cool night breeze hit you instantly as you and Bob walked back home, shoulder to shoulder.

"Boy it's chilly out here." You whispered, pulling both your arms close close your chest.

"Don't worry, hell will be warm enough once we go their for all our lies." Bob replied, placing his arm on your shoulder in attempt to bring you some warmth.

"Oh come on Bobby, you've gotta admit it was fun." You leaned your head back on his arm, getting a glimpse of the stars, but the prettiest thing you saw in that moment was Bob. Just Bob.

"We do make a good team." Bob mused. "If I ever have to lie anywhere, best belive I'm taking you there with me."

"As am I." You said, a full, toothy smile adorning your face. You had reached the front porch, where a small yellow light shined.

In that moment, you didn't know what took over you as you leaned you on your tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his beautiful lips. When he didn't reciprocate, you pulled back fast, taking steps back.

"I'm so sorry, I just-" You weren't giving a chance to complete your sentence because of yhe sheer speed with which Bob had pulled you closer to him and planted his hungry lips on yours. Maybe it was all the booze that had made it way into your systems over the course of the night, or maybe it was the intoxicating charm of his lips on yours, but you swore in the moment, you saw god.

Bob placed one of his hands on your lower back and one mounding around the side of your neck, pulling you in closer till there was no space left between you two. His mouth was engulfing yours, lips devouring the taste of yours, hanging onto them as if it was his last night alive. You buried your hand deeper into his blond locks, keeping his mouth in place, sacred if you'll pull away, this would all be just a dream.

As you two got lost I each other, the front door opened with a screech, making you to jump apart.

"Oh my, I'm sorry, did I interrupt something. "

Taglist

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[bluegardenn]

currently working on a bob reynolds x camgirl!reader one shot!! im so excited for all of you to read it!!

[bluegardenn]

WEST COAST ╱ RHETT ABBOTT X SURFER!READER SERIES

"down on the west coast, they got a sayin' "if you're not drinkin', then you're not playin'" but you've got the music in you, don't you?"

+18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪  explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, strong language and profanity, angst and emotional conflict, jealousy, possessiveness, homesickness, aggression and confrontations, boy next door vibes, strangers to lovers. california girl meets western cowboy, each chapter will have specific content warnings.

SUMMARY: You're pure Malibu, a California girl at heart—sunshine, surfing, and saltwater running through your veins. Riding waves has always been second nature, but riding horses in dusty Wyoming? Definitely not your thing. When your family trades the California coast for the ranch life in Wabang, Wyoming, you clash immediately with the small-town culture and the cocky bull rider next door, Rhett Abbott. He’s brooding, possessive, and infuriatingly attractive, making you question everything you thought you wanted. Suddenly, you're caught between two worlds—ocean tides and dirt roads, California beaches and Wyoming nights, torn between homesickness and the magnetic pull of Rhett’s touch. They say home is where the heart is…but what happens when your heart belongs in two places at once?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic does not follow the main plot of outer range so it can be read without having watched the series, there are no spoilers. this is mostly an alternative universe per se. my brain's been working 24/7 non stop after i wrote my first rhett fic, so i had to comply to my deepest darkest desires and write a series for him. oops?? it's gonna be a short series, only 5 chapters!! thank you for giving west coast a chance. this series was such a joy to create and plan—the angst, the drama, the tension!!!! it's really an emotional rollercoaster and it had me screaming and crying the entire time. i can't wait to dive in and share this story with all of you. i hope you like it. i'm head over heels for rhett abbott and i can't get enough!!! love always, your friendly neighborhood cowboy lover, bri.

WEST COAST SERIES ╱ CHAPTER ONE: SURFER TURNS WESTERN. CHAPTER TWO: MALIBU MEETS MIDWEST. CHAPTER THREE: COWBOY CASANOVA. CHAPTER FOUR: ROUGH TIDES. CHAPTER FIVE: FEELS LIKE HOME.

"ohh, baby, ooh, baby, i'm in love"

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 © 2025. DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR COPY THIS STORY TO TUMBLR, WATTPAD, AO3, OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM. Moodboards and dividers made by @houseofaegon DO NOT repost or reuse without credit.

TAGLIST: if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know in the comments! <3

[bluegardenn]

Ashes and After

Chapter 4: Break Me Again (NSFW///MDNI)

A/N: HIIII the next part is hereeeee 🍒 and uhhh… there’s only a couple chapters left, i think 👀 Warnings: don’t hate me for this. i mean it. Masterlist Feedback and reposts are appreciated ☀️

You hadn’t planned on stepping foot back on Abbott land again.

Not after the letter.

Not after the silence that followed it.

Not after driving away with every nerve in your body screaming don’t look back.

But then Royal called.

He didn’t start with pleasantries.

“Fence line’s gone down on the south ridge. I need someone I can trust to fix it.”

You almost said no. Almost reminded him there were a dozen hands on the ranch, none of them yours anymore.

But his voice had been quieter than you remembered, and when he added, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it,” you knew it wasn’t really about the fence.

So you said yes.

Not for him.

Not for Rhett.

For the land.

Because even after everything — the heartbreak, the silence, the kind of absence that never really leaves — you remembered how this place breathed. How the dirt softened after rain. How the wind along the ridge whispered in a language your bones still spoke fluently.

Some things don’t unroot just because you will them to.

—

You didn’t ask who else was working the fence.

You didn’t need to.

You saw him before you even stepped out of your truck — Rhett, leaned against the back of the four-wheeler, shirt clinging to him from sweat, jaw clenched, the posture of a man barely containing whatever storm was churning inside him. A coil of barbed wire sat at his feet, gloves shoved in his back pocket, his head tipped forward like gravity had grown heavier around him.

He looked up once.

Didn’t wave.

Didn’t nod.

Didn’t speak.

Neither did you.

You just grabbed your gloves and walked toward the fence line like it hadn’t already cut you once and left the scar to prove it.

—

The work was hot and slow, the kind of punishing task that gave your hands something to do even when your heart was too loud. Every nail took more effort than it should’ve. Every tension rod pulled taut like it was echoing something inside you that had long since snapped.

You worked in silence, the distance between you both too far and too close, until his voice broke through the dust.

“Dad didn’t say you were coming.” You didn’t look up. Just muttered, “He didn’t say you’d be here either.”

A scoff. Sharp. Familiar.

“Of course he didn’t.”

You moved to the next post, ignoring how the barbed wire bit into your gloves.

Then came the punch.

Low. Unprovoked. Meant to sting.

“You always were good at showing up late.”

You froze.

Turned.

“What did you say?” He looked straight at you now, his gaze steady and loaded. “Three years late. Give or take.”

You dropped the hammer. The metal clanged against the post.

“Are we doing this now?” you asked. “I’m not doing anything.” “Right. That’s your specialty.” His jaw tensed. “You’re the one who left.” “And you’re the one who made staying impossible.” “You didn’t even try.” “You didn’t ask me to.”

The heat between you cracked like lightning against dry land.

“You think I didn’t want to?” Rhett hissed. “You think I didn’t watch that goddamn driveway every night like a fool?”

Your chest tightened.

“You think I didn’t want to stay?” you said, your voice shaking. “I did. But I couldn’t — not like that. Not with the silence, the lies, the blood I couldn’t scrub from my hands.” He stepped forward, eyes flashing. “And what the fuck does that mean?” “It means loving you wasn’t safe anymore.”

That landed harder than you meant it to — his shoulders dropped like the wind had been knocked out of him.

But you weren’t done.

“I begged for a reason to stay. Prayed for it. But all I got was quiet nights and too many secrets. And the look you gave me that night — like I was a ghost long before I ever left.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You didn’t let him off the hook.

“You don’t get to be mad I disappeared,” you said, “when you were the one who made me invisible.”

The silence between you felt like a wound, and neither of you moved.

Then, so quietly it almost didn’t land—

“I still dream about you.” You blinked. “What?” He stepped closer. “I dream about you. And I hate waking up.”

Something inside you cracked, and you — always the one to step into pain instead of away from it — crossed the distance between you, shoved him back against the fence post, and kissed him like it still meant something.

His breath hitched.

His hands hesitated, then gripped your waist like he was afraid to let go again.

But you pulled away.

“No,” you whispered. “Not like that. Not unless you mean it.” His lips grazed your neck. “I mean all of it.”

You undid his belt slowly. Deliberately.

“Then prove it.”

You didn’t shed all your clothes. Just enough. Kept the rest on like armor.

Turned around.

Braced yourself against the fence post. Looked back.

“If you’re gonna take it,” you said, “then take it.”

He lined himself up. Pushed in slow.

Not rushed.

Just burn.

You gasped, your hands gripping the wood like it could ground you in a moment that already felt too much.

He thrust — once, then again — deeper, harder, like the ache between you might be undone this way.

His voice caught in his throat. “You feel the same.” You bit your lip. “You don’t.”

He pulled you closer, wrapped his arm around your waist, moved in rhythm like maybe — just maybe — fucking could be a form of forgiveness.

But the truth? It never is.

You broke first.

Your mouth opened on a silent sob.

And when you came, it was with his name on your tongue like a prayer you didn’t believe in anymore.

He finished with a groan, forehead on your shoulder, breath hot and uneven.

You stayed there. Bodies still touching, but hearts a mile apart.

Then you pulled away.

Fixed your jeans.

He adjusted his belt.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t look at you.

Just grabbed the wire spool and walked back toward the truck, like the moment hadn’t just shattered you both from the inside out.

—

The wire buzzed in your ears long after.

You stood there, trembling fingers laced with dust and memory, until the sun dipped lower and the cicadas started singing.

Eventually, you made it back to your truck. He was already gone. Of course he was.

But part of you still noticed how the tools were cleaned and stacked, how the leftover nails were put away, how he hadn’t left a single mess behind.

And somehow, that hurt more than if he had.

—

That night, Rhett sat on the edge of the pasture, a beer in one hand, blood on his knuckles from punching a post that didn’t deserve it.

He didn’t cry.

Didn’t yell.

Just stared at the dirt, trying to remember how to breathe.

Because when you told him he didn’t get to be mad — he realized, for the first time in his life, that he wasn’t.

He was just heartbroken.

Still.

—

Summer, two years before

You sat on the porch swing, Rhett’s head in your lap, his fingers lazily tracing your thigh.

The world was still and slow and soft.

“If I ever lost you,” he whispered, barely audible, “I wouldn’t be able to stop looking.” You kissed the crown of his head and smiled. “Then don’t lose me.”

—

Back in the present, that same porch swing creaked in the breeze.

But you weren’t in it.

Rhett sat alone on the step, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair, guilt a living thing in his chest.

Because you let him touch you.

Let him have you.

And he still hadn’t asked what you gave up for him. Still didn’t know what you lost. Still didn’t know what it cost you to stay.

But now — now he wanted to.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

PREVIOUS///NEXT

TAGLIST:

MY CHERRIES: 🍒 : @hushhhs09 veri🍒: @tokkiz @lizzie8878 @mrsparker3696 @pixie2k5 @0urlady0fs0rr0ws421 @astromilku drop your cherries: 🍒 : tag for this series ONLY veri🍒: tag for ALL of that character works

[bluegardenn]

Gone, again pt.2

Summary : Since the fight you had with Bob, you'd been distant, harsh with everyone, and trying to act like nothing’s wrong. Bob avoids you completely, which hurts more than you expected. And as if it was useful, a joke from Hangman exposes the tension between you two in front of others. But thankfully, Phoenix is there to help you out.

Bob Floyd x f!reader/pilot!reader

Warnings : lack of communication, angst, conflicted feelings, heavy past (men are shit except Bob that's it), secret relationship, Bagman being... well a dick, emotional unavailability, fling, italics (again sorry)

Words : 5,5K

A/N : I'm pretty busy but tried to wrote you as quick as possible a second part, sorry there's not a lot of Bob but it seemed important to write all this. Sorry for the mistakes didn’t read before posting !!!

+ your call sign is "Grumpy"

Bob's masterlist | previous part | next part

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

You hadn’t slept. Not really. You’d laid there the night after the fight, staring at your ceiling like it owed you something— an answer, a justification, maybe even a punishment. But all you got was silence and the echo of your own words. You'd watched his face fall in real time, watched the soft open trust in his eyes shutter like a door you slammed shut yourself. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. But you had. And you hadn’t stopped. Yet, you told yourself, this was for the best. If he hated you, he wouldn’t come back. If he stayed away, he’d be safe from everything wrong with you.

That lie had been good enough to get you out the door, but it wasn’t enough to help you sleep.

The hallway lights buzzed faintly as you walked, casting long shadows that trailed behind you like guilt. Your boots struck the floor with military precision, but the sound was too loud in the sterile quiet; like an accusation. You were early. Not because of duty or discipline. But because home didn’t feel like home anymore, and the silence scraped against your skin until you couldn’t breathe. So you left, uniform flawless, expression locked in that unreadable mask. 

But inside ? Inside was war.

No blood or bombs, just the slow, suffocating kind. Regret was the shrapnel, and shame the smoke in your lungs. You couldn’t stop replaying the fight: the way his voice had cracked, the way he didn’t fight back, just stood there and took it like he thought he deserved it. Like he'd already decided you were worth breaking for.

You didn’t look up when you entered the hangar. You didn’t have to. The sounds were all the same: pilots laughing too loud, boots scuffing, someone shouting across the space about last night’s game. 

Normal. 

Ordinary.

Like nothing had happened. Like the world hadn’t tilted sideways three nights ago when you’d walked out of Bob Floyd’s apartment and left pieces of yourself on his floor.

And then you saw him.

He stood with Nat, turning his dog tags over in his hand like they were some kind of anchor. Something solid in the middle of the storm you’d both left behind. Phoenix nudged him about something. You couldn’t hear what, and didn’t need to actually. But, he gave her that small smile, the kind he always saved for when he didn’t really want to talk.

It wasn’t the soft-lipped one he saved for the rare nights you let yourself fall asleep on his chest. It wasn’t even the tired one he gave when he knew you were picking a fight just to push him away, but he stayed anyway. He didn’t look over. Didn’t glance. Not even once. You stood there for a moment too long, hoping for something. Maybe an eye contact, maybe a flicker of recognition. A signal that you still lived somewhere in his mind. 

But nothing came. 

You told yourself it was a good thing. This is what you wanted. A clean break. No messy explanations, no apologies that could be picked apart and never quite stitched back together. But the air felt thinner now. Like his silence was pulling it out of the room. You hadn’t expected that. Not the absence, or the indifference. 

Anyway, in the end, that's what you imposed on him from the start. One look was already too much for you when you were at work, yet you were desperately looking for his right now. You could’ve handle anger, hell you’d earned it. But this ? This hollow nothing ? It unspooled something inside you. But that’s what you’d done to him from the very beginning— drawn a line he wasn’t allowed to cross, rules he never agreed to but followed anyway, just to stay close. You’d set boundaries with your silence, with your eyes that wouldn’t meet his when the uniform was on. One glance from him used to unravel you, even when you pretended it didn’t. 

And now ?

Now, you were scanning the hangar like a ghost desperate for warmth, aching for a single look— a flicker of connection— from the very eyes you used to avoid. You’d built the distance, brick by brick. And now you were suffocating in the house you trapped yourself in.

How pathetic, you thought.

You turned on your heels before he could notice you staring. But you knew, deep down, he hadn’t even tried to. You weren’t a person to him right now. Just another uniform in the room, a background noise. Your heart thudded like it was angry with you. And maybe it was. Because you’d survived worse things than heartbreak, if you call it that. You'd walked through fire before. But “heartbreak” wasn’t fire, it was ice— slow and suffocating. 

The rest of the day blurred, like someone had smeared your life into a series of grays. You went through your checklists, nodded through briefings, your voice never cracked, not once. You answered clearly, sharply, like nothing inside you was fraying thread by thread.

You were still Grumpy. Sharp. Efficient. Untouchable.

They didn’t know how bitterly ironic it felt. They thought it was just your vibe— gruff, no-nonsense, all business. But Bob had seen past it. He was the only one who’d ever asked what was underneath all that armor. And you’d hated him for it, in the way people hate the ones who get too close. The way people destroy what they think they don’t deserve.

So you buried yourself in the day, in routine, in protocol. Because if your hands were busy and your voice steady, no one would ask if you were okay.

And they didn’t.

So, you continued to pretend as the days went by. 

Just another room. Another debriefing with voices that droned like they meant something. Another day where Bob sat two rows ahead of you, shoulders straight, jaw set, posture immaculate. As if nothing had ever touched him out of uniform. As if you hadn’t. 

And you didn’t care. You kept telling yourself that, over and over again, until the words lost meaning and turned into noise. You kept your eyes forward, your hands steady, breath measured. You didn’t flinch when he shifted in his chair, even though your body noticed before your mind did, the same way it always had. 

You were trained for turbulence, controlled detachment. But not for this. 

He didn’t look back. Not once. And that, shouldn’t have mattered. 

You told yourself that, repeated it like prayer, or you should say punishment, as you scribbled notes you weren’t really hearing. The words blurred on the page, the flight plan in front of you nothing but a blur of numbers and headings—useless compared to the image burned behind your eyes; his hands brushing yours on that stupid kitchen counter. The soft smile he gave you when he thought you weren’t watching. The way he checked in with you without a single word, just a glance, a flick of those blue eyes that saw too much but never judged. You swear you could leave entire lifetimes in those looks.

But now ? Now he didn’t even glance. 

Fuck. 

You shouldn’t care. You never cared before and that’s how you kept the walls up—pretending you didn’t notice the way he looked at you like you were something worth staying for. You were good at that, back then. Looking through him. Letting the moments pass like they didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter.

You needed to pull yourself together and fast. Because this—whatever this was—had no place in this room, in this version of you that still had something to prove. But you couldn’t stop scanning for him, couldn’t stop waiting for a glance that never came. 

Suddenly it hit you, what made it worse. He wasn’t angry. Anger would’ve been so fucking easier. It was sharp, loud and visible. It would’ve given you something to push back against, something to fight. You could’ve handled yelling, a cold shoulder, even a snide remark. But Bob had gone still. A quiet withdrawal, a stillness that gutted you because it meant he’d stopped reaching.

You told yourself it didn’t touch you. Not really. Not in a way that mattered. But your throat was tight, your pulse too fast, and your pen shook in your hand for half a second too long. And deep down, you knew— it mattered more than anything else in the room.

But when maverick mentioned Phoenix and Bob running the demo flyby next weekend, something twisted in your gut. Bob barely nodded in acknowledgment, the way he didn't offer his usual thoughtful follow-up questions or glance toward you like he used to—like you were just another name on the board, not the person he used to have in his bed almost every weekend. 

Usually, he’d risk it, even in front of the others. A quick look, just long enough to say I see you. Just long enough to make your chest tighten and your defenses rise. You’d give him that look back, the one with the furrowed brows and the warning written in your eyes, like he was walking too close to a landmine he didn’t know existed, or letting him know that he was becoming suspicious. You, setting the boundaries. Him, toeing the line without ever crossing it.

Yet his head hadn't moved an inch. 

Your pen faltered in your hand, the ink stuttering mid-word as your focus slipped. The last words of the briefing faded into the background static, the kind of white noise that filled your head when you were trying too hard to seem unaffected. People stood, papers rustled, chairs scarped, the usual end-of-meeting clutter. 

But you didn’t moved. 

Not until Phoenix walked past you, giving a short nod you barely returned, then clapped Bob on the shoulder and turned to leave. You looked up just in time to see him walk out. And somehow, that made your memory sharper. That used to be the moment he waited, not in a big gesture way. He never made a show of it but he lingered; let the others leave first to make sure you weren’t walking out alone. Sometimes he offered a word or two but most times he just walked beside you, hands in his pockets, matching your pace like it was effortless and smile at you.

There was no presence at your shoulder today, just the soft thud of boots on tile and the closing of a door that didn’t wait for you. Your chest tightened, breath snagging on the silence he left behind. And for a moment, you didn’t know how to move. You stood slower than you meant to, like your body was trying to buy time you didn’t have. Maybe you were hoping he'd forgotten something. That he’d come back through the door and glance your way. Even just briefly.

But he didn’t. And you knew he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.

You told yourself you shouldn’t expect anything. Not a word, not a look. Certainly not some dramatic goodbye. But still, somewhere deep in the part of you that refused to quiet down, you'd hoped for a hesitation. Just a beat. Something that said he was still carrying it. Still carrying you.

Instead, there was only that silence he wore so well ; calculated and cold and painfully polite. The same kind he used when he didn’t want anyone to see the storm behind his eyes. And you knew the difference.

God, you hated that you knew the difference.

You packed your things slowly, the muscle memory of movement dulling the sharp edges of what you felt. Your hands only shook once. Just once. Long enough to feel the tremor echo in your chest. When the room was empty, truly empty, you sat back down. Not because you had to. Because you needed a moment. A moment where no one would expect you to be fine. So you sat. Pretended the air didn’t feel heavier, pretended the door hadn’t closed behind him like a full stop, pretended your chest wasn’t aching for a look that never came.

Because it was fine. You were fine. You were always fine. And maybe, if you stayed still long enough, you could believe it again.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

The sun was low, casting long shadows over the tarmac, painting everything in that warm, late-afternoon gold that made even a place like this feel softer for a moment. You stood just outside the hangar, shoulder pressed against a rust-streaked metal post, its heat bleeding faintly your uniform. A bottle of lukewarm water hung loose in one hand, your phone in the other, screen dim, ad you were pretending to scroll but you hadn’t blinked in minutes.

Across the way, a cluster of squad members gathered in loose formation, laughing at something you hadn’t heard. Phoenix’s voice floated above the rest. And for a second, it almost made you feel like yourself again. Like you belonged in your own skin. Like the tension that had been threading its claws through your spine all day might loosen. 

But it didn’t. 

The locker room door opened. You didn’t hear it. You felt it. Like something on the air had changed. Bob stepped out into the light, half-zipped from his suit, flight gear hanging around his waist. His shirt clung to him in places—sweat and sun, a leftover of adrenaline. His hair was damp, curls pushed back in that careless way he always tried to tame them, thought they never stayed. He looked down at something in his hand—a checklist, probably.

He was alone.

And maybe you didn’t mean to look. Or maybe you absolutely did. Maybe some part of you had been waiting, hanging onto that buzzing thread of awareness that only snapped taut when he was near. Your gaze lifted to him, pulled by something primal. And then, so sudden it almost hurt, as if pulled by the same invisible cord, his eyes found yours.

For a second, the world stilled. The laughter in the background faded to a hum. The golden light turned sharper, slicing through every layer of armor you’d built between now and the last time you touched him. And he held your gaze.

There was no heat in his stare; no fire, no bitterness, no anger. Just… stillness. Something even sadder. You didn’t say a word and neither did he. He didn’t looked away in shame or glance at the ground like he used to when he was nervous. No, Bob looked at you like a man who had made his peace with something; who had let go. Then he turned and walked off, heading toward the edge of the base without a single hesitation. Back to his checklist. Back to whatever task he’d given himself to stay upright. His shoulders squared as he walked toward the squad, blending into the laughter without ever joining it.

And you stayed exactly where you were.

Because you didn’t know what hurt more : that he looked or that he let you go again, just as easily.

The ache that had been steadily building all day finally crept into your chest, threading through your ribs like ice. You pressed your thumb harder against the bottle in your hand, like that pressure could quiet what was happening inside you. Because it wasn’t rejection. It wasn’t heartbreak. It was something worse.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

You’d just finished running a systems check on your bird when Jake strolled over, arms crossed loosely over his chest, aviators perched like punctuation on a smug grin. His walk was all swagger, like he hadn’t a single heavy thought to carry—and if he did, he wore it like it was someone else’s problem. You didn’t even glance up.

You’d been like this for days. Not just quiet but mean; clipped responses, sharp edges, no room for small talk or even smiles. You’d brushed off Phoenix more than once, snapped at a junior tech for asking a routine question, and yesterday you’d straight-up ignored Payback when he offered you his last protein bar.  

The squad had given you space at first, assuming you were just tired, irritated, maybe had a bad flight or two. But that grace period had expired. Now, the silence that you carried didn’t just follow you—it dragged behind like a storm cloud. People moved around you like you might just explode in the second their gaze met yours. 

Your call sign had never fit you more, and you knew it. But Jake, of course, couldn’t resist poking the bear.

“Damn, Grumpy,” he called out, voice pitching just loud enough to cut across the clank and murmur of the hangar, “you’re grumpier than usual. What happened ? Bad sex or no sex ?”

The wrench in your hand paused mid-motion. Just a split second; barely a beat. 

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, you dropped your gaze back to the panel, jaw locked tight, even if the damage was already done. The conversations around the hangar shifted—everyone pretending not to listen a little harder. 

Hangman whistled under his breath. “Oof. That hit something.”

“Seresin,” Phoenix’s voice snapped like a whip from a few feet away, her checklist rolled in one hand, “try shutting your mouth before someone does it for you.”

He grinned but backed off with mock innocence, hands raised. “Hey, I’m just trying to diagnose the tension in this squad. It’s practically a safety issue.” Phoenix didn’t laugh. She didn’t even blink.

You turned your head quickly, brows furrowed. “Do you actually need something, Bagman ? Or are you just bored and terminally stupid ?”

He let out a mock gasp and clutched his chest. “Ouch. There she is. I missed you, sunshine.”

You stared, deadpan. “Keep pushing, and I’ll knock those knock-off aviators down your throat.”

He couldn’t help but grinned. “There’s the fire. But seriously, people are starting to take bets on whether you’re about to kill someone or cry in a broom closet.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it both.”

Phoenix raised a brow. “You’re a pilot, not a therapist. Back off before she uses you to test the tensile strength of titanium.”

Hangman backed up a step, hands still up. “I was just saying—Grumpy’s not herself lately. Maybe she needs to, I don’t know… get laid ? I could help you with that part you know.” 

You didn’t even answer when he offered you a wink. Across the hangar, Bob had been reviewing a checklist with a tech, sleeves rolled up, grease on one hand. Now he was half-turned in your direction, gaze cutting across the space with quiet precision.

He was looking at you.

And the worst part ?

You fucking looked back.

Your spine tensed. Not visibly, but enough. Jake followed your line of sight and stopped dead. Then something clicked behind his eyes. You kept your eyes on the open panel in front of you like your life depended on it when you saw Hangman smirk. 

“Wait a second” 

“Seresin.”, Phoenix warned. She didn’t knew a thing, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Ohhh. Shit,” he said, low and grinning. “That explains so much.”

You turned your glare on him full-force. “Say another word, and I will end you in the parking lot.”

He raised both eyebrows. “Spicy. I like it.”

“Jake, seriously, shut up,” Nat hissed.

But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes were bouncing between you and Bob, clearly connecting dots he should’ve never been allowed near. “Y’all were—oh man. Who knew Bob had that kind of effect ?”

You dropped your wrench with a sharp clang, wiped your hands on a rag, and stepped forward until there were only a few inches between you and Jake.

“I swear to God,” you said, low and lethal, “if you say one more thing—”

“Okay, okay,” he backed up, hands raised. “Message received. Someone touched a nerve. I’ll just go… be charming somewhere else.”

As he slinked away, Phoenix sighed hard through her nose and turned to you. “He’s an idiot, but he’s not wrong. You’ve been… off.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

The hangar smelled like oil and metal and heat—midday sweat and a dozen exhaust fans that couldn’t quite keep up. You were hunched over a checklist at the edge of the flight deck, jaw clenched, eyes unfocused. You weren’t really reading. You were waiting for the adrenaline to wear off.

But it didn’t.

It hadn’t in days.

You didn’t hear Phoenix approach. Of course not—she was too good for that. You only noticed her when the shadow stretched beside yours on the concrete, silent and still.

“Hey, Grumpy.” You flinched slightly, not enough to give her the satisfaction.

You didn’t look up anyway, “Phoenix.”

She came to stand beside you, not speaking at first, just watching; weighing you like a target she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take down or pull in.

“You and Bob,” she said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What happened ?”

You blinked once, twice. “Excuse me ?”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t realize his personal life was suddenly your jurisdiction.”

“Cut the bullshits will you.” She snapped quickly, watching you with that same unblinking pilot's stare—half curious, half like she was dissecting you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It is,” she said, voice flattening. “When you’re planning to kill about half the team, without counting Hangman, of course.” She took a step closer and you stiffened.

You glanced away. “He’ll be fine.”

“Probably, but right now Bob is not fine tho,” she said, voice tight. “And don’t pretend you don’t know why.”

You tried to scoff, tried to play it off. “People go through shit.”

Phoenix stepped in front of you, blocking your view. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice had an edge to it now. “Sure. But Bob doesn’t just go through things—he carries them.” 

Your grip on the clipboard tightened and swallowed hard before speaking again, “He’ll move on.”

Her voice wasn’t angry. It was steady, disappointed. Phoenix tilted her head. “That’s what you think this is ? That he’s weak for giving a damn about you ?”

You froze. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because she was getting too close to the truth—and you didn’t have the armor for it today.

“You’ve been colder than usual, y/n. More shut off. Like you're trying to piss everyone off just enough so they’ll stop asking questions.”

You clicked your pen once, just for something to do. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“You didn’t have to.” She stepped in front of you fully now, forcing your eyes up to meet hers. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between you two. But I do know Bob. And I know that whatever it was, he didn’t deserve to get left with the fallout alone.”

You flinched again—this time more visible. Phoenix almost never raised her voice. “Don’t do that,” she said, quieter now. “Don’t act like pushing him away was some noble sacrifice. If you’re scared ? Fine. If you’ve been hurt before ? I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like he meant nothing just because you can’t deal with what he meant.”

The silence after that was thick and cruel. You bit the inside of your cheek until it stung. “He mentioned someone,” Phoenix added softly, a knife under velvet. “A girl. Wouldn’t say much, but the way he said it… it hurt just to watch. And when I see how you reacted with Seresin, I can't help but think that girl is you.”

Your stomach twisted.

“So I’m going to ask you this just one time, and I want you to be honest with me. Was it you ?”

Your eyes flickered to hers—and for once, you had no comeback. No sarcasm. Just the look of someone who’d been found out. Phoenix’s gaze softened, just a little. “Listen,” she said, stepping back. “Whatever happened, you’ve got a chance to fix it. Not tomorrow. Not next month. But now.”

You snapped, “I’m not what he needs.”

“No,” Phoenix said quietly. “You’re what he wants. But you’re so wrapped up in what broke you that you won’t even let him try.” The words landed like a gut punch. You masked it poorly. You opened your mouth, something cruel and self-protective on your tongue, but she didn’t stop. “You just got scared,” she said, and her tone didn’t even hold judgment. 

You laughed bitterly. “You think I wanted this ?”

“I think you wanted to feel nothing more than you wanted to feel safe,” she replied, without blinking. 

A long silence stretched between you. You turned away slowly, arms folding across your chest, tight and tense as you exhaled shakily, “Well, he’s not my hero.”

“Did he try to be ?” You froze. Phoenix took a half-step closer. “Did it piss you off ? That he was gentle when you expected rough ?”

Your throat tightened. Bob would never say a thing about that, how could she be so close. You didn’t respond. “Because I know Bob,” she continued. “And he didn’t try to fix you. He tried to love you. And you punished him for it.” That landed hard. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly furious at yourself for letting her get under your skin.

You couldn't stand the sound of her voice anymore. Who did she seriously think she was ? Without saying a word, you turned on your heels and walked out the back door of the hangar, not wanting to see her again. You groaned and slammed the door harder than necessary. You stormed inside, dropping your clipboard on the metal table with a sharp clang. A few heads turned. You didn’t care. Your jaw was clenched so tight your teeth ached. The walls felt like they were closing in— too narrow, too bright, too full of people who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

Phoenix didn’t know anything.

Except she did. Fuck. 

And that’s what made you furious.

You kicked the bottom of a locker, hard. It rattled, the echo louder than expected. A low murmur of voices quieted ans someone coughed awkwardly. You turned to the sink and splashed water on your face, trying to cool the heat rising up your neck. It didn’t help. It was like your blood had been replaced with gasoline and Phoenix had lit the match. Her words still clung to you, sticky and sharp.

“Fuck you,” you muttered under your breath, not even sure if it was directed at her, Bob, or the mirror above the sink. Maybe all three. You gripped the edge of the counter so tightly your knuckles paled. Anger swirled with guilt and shame until it was impossible to tell one from the other. You weren’t crying—not even close—but there was a sting behind your eyes that felt too much like loss.

He was your thing.

Yours to mess up. Yours to hide. Yours to leave.

So what gave Phoenix the right to pull it into the open ? What gave her the right to speak like Bob was some broken-winged bird you’d crushed out of cruelty ? She didn’t know how hard it was to be held like that. To be looked at like you were more than skin and sharp edges. To be see—fully, gently—and not know what the hell to do with it. Bob had looked at you like that.

And now he didn’t.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, hating the version of you that pushed him away. Hating how much your chest ached at the thought that maybe he wouldn’t look at you like that again. You slammed the water tap off and grabbed a paper towel, rough against your skin.

“No one asked him to save me,” you hissed under your breath.

But maybe… maybe you had hoped he would. And now ? You had no one to blame but yourself.

The door clicked shut behind her. You didn’t bother turning around. You were still facing the counter, staring at the cracked ceramic mug in the drying rack like it held the answers to everything. She stood there in silence. No sharp comment, no smugness; just the faint shift of her weight as she leaned against the door.

“I didn’t come to fight,” Phoenix said finally, voice low so others wouldn’t hear, even if everyone in the room seemed interested. “I just… couldn’t leave it like that.”

You gripped the edge of the sink until your knuckles whitened. “Should’ve.”

She stepped forward, slow like she was approaching a wounded animal. “I know it’s not my business, but I’ve also never seen you like this. You’re meaner. You haven’t said more than two words to anyone in two weeks.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath that felt like it dragged your lungs with it. “You’re not okay. And Bob sure as hell isn’t either.”

You turned away from the mirror, fists curled at your sides. “He’ll be fine.”

She gave a small laugh— not mocking, just tired. “That’s not the point,” she saif gently. “And I don’t think you really believe that.” Your chest tightened, but you didn’t speak. She wasn’t supposed to see you like that.

“I told him to stop playing the hero,” you muttered, bitter and ashamed. “Told him he didn’t have to fix me. That maybe he just wanted to feel important. To feel like someone finally saw him.” You closed your eyes, heart pounding. 

“Yeah, he told me.” 

You turned, eyes hard but glassy. She already knew too much, what was the point of keeping it all to yourself now ? Maybe she could help you in some way, so you went for it. “I said it to protect myself” you whispered, as if confessing to a crime. “Because if he’s just helping me to feel better about himself, the none of this is real. And if it’s not real, then it can’t hurt.” 

Phoenix met your gaze and didn’t flinch. She stepped closer, not to crowd you, just enough that you felt her warmth near you. “And did it work ? Did it hurt any less ?”

You laughed—short, bitter. “No. I feel like shit.”

The silence that followed made the truth louder. Something in you cracked open, not loud, not sudden, but quietly devastating. And before you could stop yourself, it started unraveling more and more.

“It’s always like that,” you said, staring at the floor. “Guys want me because I’m quiet. Easy. I don’t ask for much. I let them do what they want, because that’s what they expect. Be a good girl, take it, don’t complain. And when it’s done, they either call me cold or tell me they need someone ‘softer’.”

Phoenix didn’t interrupt.

You swallowed, jaw clenching. “So I learned to get ahead of it. To give them what they want before they ask. Be rough, be wild, act like I’m into it.” You sobbed without shedding a single tear. “That way, when they leave, it’s not because I wasn’t enough. It’s because I gave them everything and they still didn’t stay… Bob wasn’t supposed to be different.”

“But he was,” Phoenix said. There was a long silence. Then Phoenix said softly, “And that scared the hell out of you.” You exhaled like you’d been punched.

You turned around fully now, arms folded tightly across your chest like a shield you’d already lost. “I don’t know how to be loved by someone like him,” you confessed. “So I pushed him away. I hurt him. On purpose. Because it was easier than waiting for the moment he realized I’m not worth the trouble.” Phoenix blinked, then moved forward, placing her hands gently on your shoulders.

“What if I screw it up again ?” you asked, your voice small.

Phoenix stepped close, looked you right in the eye. “Then you try again. And again. Until he knows you’re not walking away this time.”

“I don’t know what to say to him,” you admitted.

Phoenix smiled gently. “Start with sorry. And maybe… ‘I was wrong.’ The rest will come naturally.”

You stood there for a long moment, heart pounding against your ribs like it wanted out. Then, finally, you exhaled and nodded, almost to yourself. You didn’t say anything else—you didn’t need to. You left the breakroom with a kind of nervous resolve, like your body had decided to move before your mind fully caught up. You passed by her, brushing against her shoulder, without giving her so much as a last glance. Phoenix watched you go, something soft and hopeful settling into her chest. Outside, the sky was starting to shift into gold. And for the first time in weeks, you stepped out of the shadow you’d wrapped yourself in.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

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