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putting-it-into-parc · 14 days

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red (soy lago - part 3)

masterlist

part 1 // part 2

lando x carlos (carlando)

summary: Old feelings die hard. Do they die harder than a bad crash at Spa? warning(s): angst, mild description of non-lifethreatening injury a/n: shoutout to every sad reader of Soy lago and All this, just to say goodbye - this one's for you :') this was inspired by lando's real crash at Spa, but takes place after melbourne 2024 in universe.

At Spa, Lando sees red.

He sees it in the rim of the soft tyres his pit crew all but rips off his car, as the rain transforms from a mist to a drizzle to a steady downpour. He sees it in the Ferrari struggling in his rearview mirrors, an unlikely sight for the usually dominant car. He sees it in the flag the stewards wave during Q3 as a bolt of plasma splits the sky in half. And he sees it in the flash of balaclava that gets hurled to the floor in anger. Carlos never made it out of Q2.

Lando sticks his hand in his pocket, making sure the precious cargo inside has remained dry. Luckily, the fireproofs seem also to be relatively waterproof. He inhales deeply, lets the air rush out through his nostrils. Weaves his way through the paddock.

Oscar is fully unconscious, curled up like a cat on a bench in the garage, hood pulled over his wavy hair. Lando can’t help but smile at the sleepy young driver as he walks past McLaren to the red Ferrari garage. It’s all too much for little Oscar Piastri, a voice in his head sings.

Carlos gesticulates wildly to a race marshal, the tops of his cheeks flushed. His lower jaw juts out angrily, his eyes narrowed. It’s rare for the cool-headed driver to lose his temper, but Lando remembers the crevice that opens between his dark eyebrows well. He saw it after Ferrari gave him some truly dogwater strategy calls in Monaco last year. He saw it when Pierre shoved him after the Canadian qualis. And who could forget, hardly a year ago, being interviewed about that five-second penalty in Melbourne?

Lando figures it’s about him getting knocked out in Q2. A crazy idea floats into his mind.

No, he tells himself firmly. No more offering to go on a walk. You’re over this.

Less than ten paces away, Carlos is hilariously juxtaposed by Charles spread horizontally out over an armchair, legs dangling off an armest like a little kid, smirking as he undoubtedly texts some new romantic conquest on his phone.

Lando moves on.

Pierre is inexplicably in the AlphaTauri (Lando refuses to call it Visa Cash App Red Bull) motorhome, wielding a black tray of...ew, where did he get sushi? Lando wrinkles his nose in disgust as he gracefully picks up a piece of dark red fish with a pair of chopsticks and feeds it to Yuki.

“Just so you know,” he hears Pierre say, “if you’re not hungry anymore I’m finishing the rest of it.”

“Okay!” Yuki chirps happily.

Pierre’s fond chuckles fade away as Lando passes Haas—where Kevin and Nico are busy dribbling a football between their ankles—and makes a beeline for Williams. Of course George is loitering around, because Alex is there. Their heads are bent together conspiratorially over Alex’s phone. George giggles like a schoolgirl, tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear. Blushes. What a fool.

“Mates,” Lando calls out.

George and Alex shoot apart, eyes darting frantically from side to side. Lando rolls his own. It could not be more obvious if they carried around a neon sign that said “WE’RE MADLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER BUT REFUSE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD”.

“Hey Lando,” Alex says casually. “Any word on when they’re letting us back out?”

“Aw, mate,” George teases, “seeing as you’re not even in Q3, I should think it doesn’t even mat—ouch!” His jab is interrupted by Alex elbowing him between his ribs. George snatches Alex’s hat from his head in retaliation, placing it atop his dirty blond waves.

Lando fights back the sudden urge to vomit at their saccharine affection. “Er, no.”

“Carlos is giving the stewards an earful,” George narrows his deep blue eyes. The dark fringe of his lashes almost touch. “I overheard him talking about how it’s dangerous, how they should postpone Q3.”

This is news to Lando. He’d assumed Carlos was angry about his quali result.

Alex chuckles. “Who died and made Carlos the weather police?”

“Sorry, gotta go,” Lando says hurriedly, brushing past them out of Williams. George waves him off, his other arm stretching out oh-so-casually behind Alex’s slim waist.

The thing was, every once in a while, Carlos just got feelings. Eerily accurate ones. Lando remembered Silverstone in 2022 all too well—Carlos had joked to Danny that he should avoid George because he got the feeling he’d be extra menacing that day. Not that Danny had taken him entirely to heart, but if he’d pushed from the get go, it might’ve been the former McLaren hurtling over the tyre barrier instead of Zhou...

The McLaren garage comes into view when someone grabs his forearm. Lando whirls around, comes face to face with a pair of slightly manic brown eyes. The tall collar of a red racing suit.

“Carlos—”

“Lando,” Carlos says in a low voice. “I need you to be...careful.”

“Huh?” Lando asks, perplexed.

Carlos gestures to the rain, which has lightened considerably. “The marshals, they are starting up Q3 again. I don’t like that.”

Lando squints up at the gray clouds. It didn’t seem like the rain was going to get any worse. He was probably off the mark on this one. “Ooookay, Carlos. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Lando,” Carlos insists. Lando is taken aback by the urgency in his voice. “I just...I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Will’s radio bleats in his ear. “Lando, ten minutes to start, ten minutes, please come back to the garage as soon as you can.”

“I gotta go back,” he mutters to Carlos, and the other driver’s grip on his arm reluctantly slackens.

“Be careful,” Carlos pleads once again, finally letting him go.

Lando hurries back to the garage, shaking his head as if that would help clear his jumbled thoughts. I’m sure he was like this to everyone. To Charles. I know he begged him to be careful, too. We’re all friends now, remember?

But as Lando pulls his helmet on, watching Oscar frown up at the darkened sky, he can’t help but wonder if the desperation in Carlos’ voice was meant just for him. As he pulls forward slowly for the out lap, he sees Carlos pacing around, and when they make eye contact, the Spaniard’s face is stricken.

He can’t help but imagine Carlos fretting over him, and only him, and he smiles.

Lando hasn’t even finished his out lap when the rain starts to come down in sheets again. “It’s definitely wet,” he tells his race engineer.

“Should be good, Lando, should be good for one hot lap for those tyres.”

No way. But what can he do?

He feels the car lose control at La Source. Just enough to scare him.

“I dunno, it’s almost too wet. Some aquaplaning. Quite a bit of aquaplaning.”

“Okay, understood.”

Lando squints down Eau Rouge. Red Water. Sure enough, the rain has made the creek below the track swell, mixed with clay. He sees red.

“The rain will continue for...six more minutes,” he hears as the car aquaplanes again.

Lando hurtles down the straight with no control at all.

He closes his eyes, braces himself for impact.

A sickening crunch, and his car spins out, only after what seems like an eternity coming to a stop.

“Lando, are you okay?” Will sounds through the radio.

Lando figures he has about fifteen seconds before the damage kicks in. His fingers scrabble for the radio button on his wheel. Oh god. His hands are shaking so badly that he misses it the first time.

“Lando, are you okay?” The question is now tinged with panic.

He hits the button.

“Yeh—” Lando ekes out—“all good.”

Then, before he can turn the radio off, the pain slams into him like a truck. He groans into the mic, thinking he wouldn’t be all that surprised if all his bones had shattered with the impact of the crash.

“Can you get out of the car?” Will demands.

Mate, I can hardly lift my neck, Lando retorts silently. But he wills himself to get it together, feebly attempts to hoist himself to a standing position. No, wait, the wheel. He tries to unscrew the wheel and place it on the chassis. The twisting motion of his arms makes his chest feel like it’s erupting into flames. And it was getting steadily harder to breathe. What was happening?

He hates this. Hates that it might all end here, just like this. He wonders if Carlos saw him crash, and desperately prays he hadn’t witnessed it. Lando doesn’t want this to be his last memory of him.

Soy lago, Carlitos. Chili. I’m sorry. His fingers find the piece of soft, worn paper in his pocket. He closes his fist tightly around the paper airplane.

Lando tries his best to breathe. He knows it’s a losing battle.

He vaguely registers people shouting at each other—paramedics, he hopes. A fluorescent green ambulance, lights blazing. Two sets of hands grasp him under his armpits and haul him out of the car. His chest hurts so badly, his vision’s starting to white out at the edges.

“Ah—ow,” he hears his own voice say, and then everything—finally—goes mercifully dark.

When he opens his eyes, Lando sees someone standing in the doorway, clothed in red.

Right. The crash. He wonders whether he’d died, and some version of Carlos was waiting to take him up to heaven. He smiles, and feels a searing pain across his dry, cracking lips. Dammit. He probably wouldn’t have chapped lips if he really was dead.

“Thank god Lando, you’re awake,” the scarlet-clad driver says...in a French accent. Lando’s heart sinks.

Charles winds his way through the army of IV poles, wires, and monitors surrounding the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Lando takes a mental inventory of his battered body. He recalls his chest being on fire, which had now reduced to a dull ache. He pushes the covers down, revealing several ugly bruises encircling his ribcage. And, to his mild horror, a tube draining right out of his chest.

Morphine, he decides, is truly God’s gift to mankind.

Charles winces when he sees the chest tube. “They said one of your lungs collapsed. Your broken ribs...they punctured it.”

“Lovely,” Lando mutters.

“All that matters is that you’re okay, mate,” Charles sighs. “You will be okay.”

He pulls out a crumpled ball of paper from his pocket. Lando stares at the remains of Carlos’ note, now from five whole years ago...

Charles, noticing his recognition, places it gently on his bedside table.

“You were holding onto it so tightly...even when you were passed out.” He closes his eyes. “No one knew what it was, until Carlos—” Lando shudders reflexively at the name—“came by and found it.”

His green eyes bore holes into Lando’s blue ones.

“Carlos was scared to death,” Charles adds quietly. “He was doing an interview, and he saw your car spin, and the reporter told him it was you. He didn’t finish his sentence, let alone the interview—he went silent. If you saw the look on his face...” He shakes his head, as if doing so would erase the memory. “He heard you on radio and he looked...he looked like he wished he was in the car instead.”

Lando swallows hard. “Is he—is he here?”

“No. He’s back at Ferrari.”

He nods. It’s probably for the best.

“Thanks for coming by, Charles.”

Charles pats him gently on the shoulder and leaves. Lando gingerly reaches for the crumpled paper plane, unfolds it.

The ink is blurred from the rain and sweat and drops of maroon—which used to be bright red—bloom on it, but Lando doesn’t need to read it to know what it used to say.

He wishes, even though he shouldn’t, that he could have one more walk with Carlos.

“Landito,” comes a soft voice through the darkness.

Lando squints, because he would know that voice anywhere. His heart starts pounding, reflected in the frenzied symphony his monitors begin to emit.

“Carlos?”

“Sí.” Carlos emerges from the darkened hallway.

It’s past midnight, at least. Lando had heard the nurse murmuring to herself as she took down his vitals. “You’re not supposed to be here, I think...”

“I know. I snuck in. It was on purpose.”

Carlos snuck into the hospital? For Lando?

“Can I come in?” Carlos asks. Lando waves him into the room, grimacing at the pain shooting through his shoulder with the motion.

He wonders whether morphine can make someone hallucinate, and looks lovingly at the line connected to the crook of his arm, wondering if he could swindle a nurse into giving him some more tomorrow.

Then Lando becomes aware of Carlos standing by his bed, giving him a very strange look indeed. He clears his throat.

“Um. Hi.”

Carlos kneels beside him. Lando is suddenly conspicuous of how exposed he is, the bandages, the bruises, that damn tube…

“Lando,” Carlos says, hoarsely. “I should’ve said something. Done something.”

He feels completely bewildered. “What? Carlos, you couldn’t have—there’s no way you could’ve known—“

“But there was,” whispers Carlos morosely. “I’ve aquaplaned at that corner before, I tried to tell the stewards it wasn’t safe…I didn’t try hard enough…”

He gently traces the bruises on Lando’s ribs. Lando’s not entirely sure, but he swears he sees Carlos’ eyes well up.

Then he remembers Carlos glaring, all but going hand to hand with the stewards, and laughs.

“Oh, Carlitos,” he says, breathlessly, “you always know the damnest things.”

Carlos looks utterly baffled at Lando’s laughing.

“I have very little left to lose,” he says slowly, frowning. “But the one thing I will not...is you.”

“Carlos?” Lando’s voice trembles. He’s not laughing anymore.

“Hmm?"

“I’m sorry. About everything.”

He feels Carlos’ warm hand take his, and give him a squeeze. “There is no I’m sorry, my muppet friend.”

“Then?”

Lando can see the dim lights of the monitors reflected in Carlos’ huge, glassy brown eyes. Overflowing with warmth. Tenderness. Maybe even love.

Carlos reaches into his pocket, slowly produces a piece of folded cardstock. It’s red. Lando’s eyes widen as he takes in the pointy nose, the crisp wings. An airplane. Completely dissimilar from the hastily constructed, ripped-from-a-random-engineer’s-legal-pad one Lando had been toting around for so long.

He presses it into Lando’s palm. “I guess it was time for a new one.”

Then he leans over, and brushes Lando’s forehead with the barest whisper of his lips, leaving Lando dizzy, overwhelmed.

“Goodnight, Landito,” he breathes before he disappears, as if he was little more than a dream.

Lando unfolds the little plane with quaking fingers.

This time, six words greet him, written in gorgeous script. Slow. Intentional. Utterly deliberate.

There is only...I love you.

Soy lago, Lando thinks as a tear snakes its way down his cheek.

But this time…for all of the right reasons.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fluff #lando norris #carlos sainz #carlando #ln4 x cs55 #cs55 #ln4 #ferrari #carlos sainz x lando norris

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chouxsardine · 4 months

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Love is a four-legged word--Sam Kiszka x reader

Summary: Love comes in all forms, it is, afterall, a four-legged word--Sam and y/n met at a park while walking their dogs. The furry friends are their best wingman.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7418

Warnings: dogs, description of crying, allusion to death of pet, death of animals, mention of the name of alcohol (but no alcohol involved) (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is my longest piece so far and my first Sam piece (yipee!! exciting!) This was a Christmas gift to I want to @dannythedog thank her for hosting the gvf secret santa. But as late as it was… I hope it can still count as a New Year's gift? This took so long to write and I myself went through a pretty emotional journey while writing this. I have more to say, but I will save for the end if you care to read it. Enjoy for now.

“Come on, Rosie bug, it’s time for your walk.” Sam stood up from the sofa, raising his arm for a stretch.

Being the good girl that she is, Rosie was already waiting patiently at the door, sitting still while Sam put the harness and leash on her.

It was a sunny afternoon, warm and cloudless after consecutive days of rain. Taking advantage of the delightful weather, Sam decided to extend their daily walk and take Rose to the park. He has always loved this park. There’s just something so intimate about this public space that always draws him towards it. It is situated a few blocks away from downtown, a beautiful getaway from the hurly burly of the city. It has a large lawn area that turns into the most pleasant shade of green in April, around his birthday. The colour so lovely that it gives him the urge to touch the grass, hug a tree, and nuzzle his face into nature. It is also the best place to people-watch—college lovebirds, laughing toddlers, family picnics—it is like being in one of Georges Seurat’s paintings.

It seems that many people think the same way as Sam. The park was busier than usual. The duo took their familiar route, following the gravel path to the fountain where the running tracks start. They would take a break on the bench where Rose can enjoy some treats.

Sam has done a good job socializing Rose due to the need for frequently traveling on the road. Rose is a curious girl and is open to making new friends, but she always listens to Sam. When other dogs pass by either barking over-excitedly or stopping to exchange friendly sniffs, Rose generally remains unfazed. She knows that remaining her composure and staying close to Sam is going to warrant some loving pets and yummy treats. Therefore, when a black and white Pit Bull trotted up to Rose, Sam didn’t pay too much attention. The dogs are all on leashes in this area. If any of them stop for a little longer, Sam will usually exchange a friendly smile with the owner, then each side will go about their own business. However, Rose seemed to be especially interested in this new friend. She stood up and started wagging her tail softly, gently bumping nose with her newfound friend, learning their smell and demeanour. That’s when Sam noticed that this dog looked a little special. Instead of the common collar, it was wearing a blue bandana with the word “adopt” printed on the corner. Sam followed the leash and looked all the way up. He saw a pretty girl looking down at the two dogs interacting with a mesmerizing smile.

Sensing his gaze, the girl quickly looked up.

“Oh hi, so sorry about this. Klaus is a shelter dog; he doesn’t get to interact with other dogs a lot, so he got a bit excited.” She said apologetically.

Ah, so that explains the bandana.

Now it seemed that Klaus took an interest in Sam as well. Considering his lack of socialization, Sam thinks Klaus is doing exceptionally well. He was sniffing Sam’s jeans, nudging his ankles with his nose.

“No, no, don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Sam bent down and extended the back of his hand to Klaus. After receiving a lick and some kisses as signs of approval, he started scratching Klaus behind the ears. “I’m Sam, and this is Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m y/n,” y/n said before crouching down. Rose immediately moved towards her and started pawing her hand.

One thing Sam loves the most about Rose is that she has good taste in people. Come on, this girl chose Sam to be her handler. (Sam has always believed that it is Rose who came to him, not the other way around.) And based on Rose’s reaction now, Sam would like to boldly assume that y/n is a decent person as well.

“Come on, Klaus, let’s go.” y/n gently tugged the leash, but she was completely ignored. The two dogs were already playing together, bowing and bouncing just like puppies.

“They can play for a bit,” Sam said. He loves seeing Rose Bud making friends. “If you are not in a rush, that is.”

“No, I’m not. Thank you so much,” y/n relented.

“So, Klaus is a shelter dog, you said?” Sam asked as he scooted over and let out more space on the bench for y/n to sit next to him.

“Yes, today is his Doggy Day Out,” y/n kindly explained. “People can sign up to take a shelter dog out for a ‘field trip’ for a day. It helps them manage kennel stress and increases their chances of getting adopted.”

The thoughtfulness of the idea makes Sam smile. He has heard about similar programs before, but this was his first time encountering an example in real life. “So you chose Klaus?”

“Yeah, Klaus is one of the longest residents at the shelter.” y/n cupped the dog’s adorable face in her hands and cooed. “I mean, look at his face, how could I say no? Besides, people often have a misunderstanding about Pit Bulls, you know, about them being aggressive and all; so it’s harder for them to get adopted.”

As absurd as it sounds, that is sadly the truth. Sam remembers seeing more than once those distasteful comments under Rose’s account.

“Indeed. Sometimes we truly don’t deserve dogs.” He said.

A comfortable silence draped over them, except it was quite loud in y/n’s mind and chest right now. Y/n had been stealing glances at the man next to her in between conversations the whole time and she hoped she wasn’t being too obvious. There was no denial that Sam is outright gorgeous. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned black plaid shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nike blazers. But what attracted her the most was his hair, the hair that suddenly made her self-conscious about her own (which really needed to get washed today). Sam has dark brown hair the length to his shoulder. The loose curls look lush and smooth, shining under the sunlight, which makes it a lighter flax colour. The strands that frizzes away are delicate and golden, swaying along with his breathing. Y/n bet they are silky and soft to the touch too. Plus, he has really pretty hands, with the pink leash wrapped around his palm contrasting against his olive skin. Slim, bony fingers, with nails that are clean, round and well-trimmed. Those are hands well-kept.

Maybe there is a grain of truth to what people say about first impression after all, Sam thought. A girl with Rose’s approval, a nice smile, and a sensible and tasteful take on Pit Bulls (She also looks cute). Sam thinks he quite liked her.

“So, what are your plans for the day? I mean, for Klaus?” Sam quickly corrected himself to sound less snoopy.

“We haven’t left the shelter for long. I was planning on getting him a pup cup first.”

“Pup cup! What a coincidence, that’s exactly what Rose bug and I have in mind,” (Liar. He didn’t). Sam put on his best smile. “Mind if we join you?”

Their conversation carried on smoothly as they made their way to the nearby bakery. Sam found out that y/n volunteers at the local shelter and works as a freelance photographer and a part-time dog walker. Y/n learned that Sam is a bassist and keyboard player who is in a band with his brothers (“That explains the pretty fingers,” Y/n thought to herself).

The bakery is a hidden gem in the neighbourhood, with a walk-up window inlaid into the white brick wall. A blackboard with cursive chalk writing was propped up beside it, displaying the menu. A separate hand-drawn poster on the wall sayid “puppuccino available for furry friends” in brush lettering.

“Do you want anything? My treat,” Sam asked as they approached the queue. “Please say yes so I have an excuse to ask for your number just in case you want to return the favour sometime.”

A bold move? Yes. But he felt like taking chances today.

Y/n raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. Sam held her gaze, silently restating his point.

“Fine, if you insist.”

“I do insist.” Sam stepped aside as it was their turn to order and let y/n go first. “After you.”

That’s smooth. Real Smooth. Y/n thought. Almost as smooth as his hair.

For the next few weeks, Sam and y/n has been talking on and off through text messages. Their chat history was mainly composed of Sam sending goofy dog videos and y/n replying with cute pictures she took of dogs at the shelter. Sometimes Sam spotted y/n holding multiple leashes, walking dogs on the sidewalk, and sometimes he went to the shelter under the excuse of dropping off donations just to see her. Occasionally, they would fix a date to meet at the park for a “puppy play date” when y/n took another dog on their Doggy Day Out. While the dogs rolled together or chased each other within their sight, they would sit on the bench with coffee cups in their hands and a box of cookies between them to share. Y/n found Sam to be a charming guy. She loves his brutal honesty and his humour with a witty tongue. He loves to hold her gaze while talking to her. At first, she hated it—the unrelenting stare from those captivating brown eyes makes her want to squirm in her seat—and Sam was never the first to break eye contact. But over time she had learnt to stare back nonchalantly, usually with a single raise of her eyebrow.

There was no lack of vocal banters as well, which usually embarks after one of them blurts out some controversial opinion. With some people, a debate over things like if pineapple belongs on pizza or should you pour milk before cereal can quickly lead to annoyances, but it’s different with Sam. Sam brings out the competitiveness in y/n just like she was back in her high school debate club. Backchat with Sam is fun; he makes one willing to takes all the steps—from gathering evidence to forming thesis statement—just to be rebutted by a single line of his ingenious comment; and y/n is not even mad about it. The cherry on top is that Sam always likes to push one step further by adding the flirtatious “What now, little mama, cat caught your tongue?”. She feels offended in the best possible way.

On the other hand, as composed as he seems to y/n, Sam feels that things always came out of his mouth without filters when he is with y/n. For example, he will never let go of that one time they argued about the right way to hang up toilet paper.

“It’s obviously under! Have you ever had times when you hang it over and it unrolls itself and you get this massive pile of toilet paper on the floor?”

“No, Sam, I have not. I’m pretty sure that’s because you got a bad roll or some mean spirit in your bathroom pulled it.”

“It’s a perfect roll, just out of the package!”

“Then it’s definitely some mean spirit. Burning some sage should fix it. Obviously, the correct way is over so that it doesn’t rub against the wall.”

“Bold of you to assume I have dirty walls!”

“How do I know? You probably do!”

“I will not stand any defamation to my name and my wall. You can only form such an opinion after you have checked it out!”

Y/n gave him an interesting look. Just before she could say something, Rose rushed back to their side, and for once, Sam was relieved that the debate withered away because as soon as those words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself.

Why would you say that, you freaking idiot? What kind of activities should you be engaging in that will lead to a situation involving you showing her the cleanness of your bathroom wall, which unfortunately is, in fact, kind of gross and stained with flashed pee?

But fate is a fickle little thing. Little does Sam know, it was not long before they did end up in that situation, just not in the way as he has expected.

Earlier that day, Sam has sent y/n a message asking if she wants to meet at the park the next day and received a brief message that reads, “Sorry, got caught up at the shelter”.

That is usually a bad sign because it means that there’s either a large intake or some kind of emergency. Y/n also ran a volunteer social media account, posting adorable pictures and short videos that she took of the dogs when she takes them out for a walk for temperament tests, adding visibility to help they find a loving home. Sam vaguely remembered y/n mentioning that they took in a puppy that was hit by a car. He secretly hoped it wasn’t any bad news. Sam debated between sending her a goofy dog meme with the caption “Take care” to lighten up the mood or asking further. He waited, but the three dots on the other side of the chat box never came up.

It was around nine in the evening when Sam received another text from y/n.

Y/n: Are you busy right now?

Sam: No, just chilling. What’s up?

Y/n: My car broke down.

The three dots are still blinking when Sam’s finger flew through the screen.

Sam: location?

Sam: I’ll be there.

Rose looked up confused from her spot on the couch, when Sam rushed to the foyer, one arm already in his jacket and stuffing his feet into shoes.

“Hold the fort, Rose bud!” He yelled before locking the door behind him.

Y/n’s car broke down not too far away from the shelter. Sam saw the tow truck and the roadside assistance as he drove near. Y/n was talking to the truck driver. From the distance, she looked so forlorn and lost under the jarring redness of warning lights. The size different between her and the heavyset man towering over her makes her looked like a puppy soaked in rain. Sam had never felt such a strong sense of protectiveness towards anyone. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and engulf her in a hug, if she would let him.

He almost drifted as he swerved his car into an empty parking space by the side of the road. He ran to y/n’s side.

“Okay, Miss. The insurance company will contact you for further details,” the roadside assistance worker nodded to y/n. “The truck will tow your car to the garage. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yes,” said Sam before y/n could answer.

The man gave him a knowing look before he said, “Good. Make sure you take all your valuable belongings in the car with you.”

Sam helped y/n put her stuff in the backseat of his car before opening the passenger side’s door for her. Sam had noticed that y/n’s body was stiff and tense the whole time when she was standing outside, and it remained so as she plopped down onto the seat.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Sam turned to her eagerly once he had situated himself.

As soon as the words left his lips, the dam broke loose. Y/n’s shoulder visibly relaxed as loud sobs ripped through her body. She tried to purse her lips and contain herself but tragically failed. For a minute, she couldn’t make a single syllable other than frantically shaking her head and shoving her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle her crying. Y/n’s whimper filled the car, mixed with the loud beeping alert and yelling outside as the truck towed y/n’s car away.

“Oh, y/n,” Sam felt like someone had stamped on his heart. “Can I give you a h—”

Without a word, y/n almost knocked herself into his arms. It was only when he was holding her that he realized how badly she was trembling. This is their first proper hug, far from how Sam has imagined it. He wrapped his arms around y/n’s frame, one hand hugging her shoulders to him and the other rubbing her hand in wide, gentle stripes, tucking her head under his chin. Y/n’s hand held onto Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his biceps like a drowning person holding onto a piece of driftwood. Sam was firstly relived that y/n was not physically hurt; and then there were the emotions, which they could deal with. Whatever made her this devastated, he was determined to turn it around and make it better.

They stayed like that for a while, bodies squishing together uncomfortably over the middle console, until Y/n finally started to calm down.

She pulled away from Sam’s hug. Sam immediately reached to the backseat for the tissue box, from which y/n took a handful of tissues and turned her head to the side to wipe her face.

“It…it was Huxley,” she was fighting to speak without breaking down again. “He’s g—gone.”

Upon hearing the name, Sam’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. His former wish had fallen through after all. Huxley was the puppy that came to the shelter from a car accident. He was sent in by a Good Samaritan on Monday. From the photo y/n posted, Sam knew that he was a young Australian cattle dog. Sam thought he was out of danger as y/n updated the post on Tuesday, saying that there was a rescue willing to pull him.

Sam didn’t press on with further questions. He sat patiently, handing y/n more tissues as she needed and waited to piece together the story from snatches of her speech.

“They did an x-ray and found he has a fractured pelvis. A rescue tagged him…and he was supposed to l-leave the shelter today.”

“We thought he was f-fine until…until he suddenly deteriorated this a-afternoon. There was, um, internal bleeding and… the vet said, the in-injury was too serious to recover and, and s-suggested…”

It was taking all her strength for y/n to squeeze out the last few words: “…it…it was the kindest to..put him d-down.”

Y/n buried her face into her hands as she resorted to another burst of weeping. Her shoulders shuddered with every muffled sob. “He reminded me of Wendy…I couldn’t save n-neither of them!”

This was the first time Sam has heard about Wendy from y/n. He guessed that Windy used to belong to y/n. He had once saw a photo of y/n and a white puppy tucked in her wallet when she was paying for coffee. Y/n never talked about it and Sam never asked. He decided he was still going to be silent about it today. He wouldn’t want to force her to narrate whatever tragic event that had happened in the past again, knowing that she probably had already done it to herself over and over again in her brain upon seeing the loss of Huxley.

Sam mulled over his words. Platitudes like “you have already done your best” sounded superfluous. Y/n, and he believes that everyone at the shelter, did everything they could; but that doesn’t fix things, does it?

“Was he loved when he was gone?” Sam gently took y/n’s hand in his.

“I was too coward to stay until the last moment,” y/n looked at Sam through teary eyes, “and he couldn’t really stomach any food by then. But yes, we made sure he was surrounded by treats and toys.”

“Then that’s what matters,” Sam managed a smile and said softly. “Dogs are very grateful creatures, you know that. Now that Huxley has crossed the rainbow bridge, he must be thanking you for loving him to the end, to provide him with a warm bed so he didn’t have to go alone and scared on the side of some highway.”

Y/n’s was still hiding her face in her palms, with her elbows resting on her knees, but Sam recognized a trembling nod from her. Now he felt tears stinging in his own eyes. He rubbed the area between y/n’s shoulder blades and carefully opened his mouth: “Look, y/n. I don’t want to sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation. But I am really worried about leaving you alone for the night like this. Would you like to perhaps crash at my place for the night? Rosie can keep you company.”

“Let me take care of you.” Sam closed his eyes for a second before he added, “As a friend?”

To his relief, y/n nodded again before turning her head slightly to face him, revealing half of her face, all wrinkled with red marks and tear stains, her eyes bloodshot and glassy.

“Sorry for being a bother.” She whispered through quivering lips.

“Never. Never a bother, mama,” Sam’s heart clenched again, hard. He reached out and gently squeezed the back of y/n’s neck before starting the car. “I got you.”

Y/n could hear Rosie’s claws clacking on the wooden floor before Sam turned the key in the lock. As he opened the door, they are welcomed by an excited Rosie, just as expected. Sam had taught Rosie well not to bolt towards guests or jump on them, so she was expressing her joy through a wagging tail that put her whole body into motion and repeated bowing; her pink tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. The goofy gestures raised a chuckle out of y/n. The first smile that he had seen on her face all night.

Sam’s apartment is cozy and vibrant. It has rustic brick walls and exposed beams. A red oriental rug lies in the middle of the room in front of a light camel-coloured sofa. There are touches here and there where Sam lets his intrusive thoughts win—so a piece of decor that does not match the general style appears but ends up working nonetheless, such as the banana leaf wall paper that only covers one side of the wall. A long-neck floor lamp throws warm glow over half of the living room.

“Go sit, y/n. Make yourself at home. You want some tea?” Sam laid out a pair of slippers for her as he asked.

Y/n had half a heart to reject out of politeness but realized she was too tired to put on any facade, and it is unnecessary after all considering she had just bawled her eyes out before Sam. Her eyes were stinging from crying and her face must have looked like a mess now.

“Thank you. Can I borrow the bathroom, please?”

“Of course! It’s right there.” Sam pointed her the right door.

Closing the door behind her, y/n felt like her legs were about to gave out. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and closed her eyes, thoughts swarming in her mind. Now that the initial throbbing pain in her chest has subsided, she began interrogating herself. What was it that made her agree to stay here overnight? “Worry about leaving you alone”….You are used to being alone—heck, you have been for years. All the past experiences and rational judgements were reprimanding her in a motherly tone with a scowl, but her body was faithful to the ghostly touches and phantom breaths that he had left on her skin during their hug. She forgot when was the last time that she had received a hug that conveyed such empathy without blind assumption. She forgot when was the last time that she felt valid for her feeling sad and mourning. She forgot when was the last time that she was not forced to explain. Yet Sam came and reset the record for her.

Three gentle knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I grabbed you a clean towel. I’m putting it on the handle, so just watch it when you open the door.” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Oh Sammy, Y/n thought to herself with a wry smile. The nickname naturally slips into her mind. This is not helping.

What it is about this man that makes you trust him enough to break down in front of him and then agree to stay at his place overnight? Was it because he was nice to dogs? Green flag. Nice hair and clean nails, perfect side profiled, chiseled like an Apollo statue? Green flag. Top tier banter and flirting? Beige flag (but has potential).

Her brain started hurting again. Her heart said fuck it, go wipe your face, drink tea, and pray that he’s not a patient serial killer three months in disguise who likes to collect dog memes. Y/n opened her eyes and the first thing she saw brought an untimely giggle out of her.

Toilet paper hanging from under? Red flag.

When y/n opened the bathroom door again, Sam was feeding Rose her dinner.

“There you are! Thought you fell in.” Sam looked up at her with a toothy grin.“Sorry,” he apologized for his joke before y/n even said anything. “I made you tea, I guess you haven’t eat yet? I can order takeout or whip something up real quick.”

“That’s very nice of you, Sam. But I really don’t think I can handle a meal right now. Tea will be just fine for me. Thank you.”

Y/n must have washed her face in the washroom. Now her face looked fresh, setting off her reddish nose which she rubbed a little too harshly. The bags under her swollen eyes made her looks droopy, much different from the energetic y/n under the sun in the park. She looked very….huggable.

Y/n took a sip from the mug Sam handed her. It’s lavender tea. She felt her nerves slowly stretched as the warm liquid slid into her stomach. Having finished her dinner, Rose wasted no time joining them on the sofa. She found the perfect spot between Sam and y/n, laying her head on her folded paws.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Um-hmm,” y/n absent-mindedly hummed. “You take the pick.”

Absolutely nothing furry, nothing barking, nothing wagging its tail. Sam scrolled through the catalogue.

Y/n raised her eyebrows when she saw Sam finally settling on Vanderpump Rules.

“Surprised?”

“Surprised, amused, guilty as charged.” Y/n admitted.

“No way! Which season are you on?”

“Seven? I can’t remember much though.”

Sam couldn’t deny it, there’s just something about watching and becoming invested in other people’s cheating drama that gets you to forget about your own problems real fast, at least temporarily. When one of the girls made an especially spiteful comment and Sam got no reaction from y/n, he turned and saw her dozing off, her chin rested on her clavicle, one hand still resting on Rose’s back.

She’s bound to get a stiff neck sleeping that way. Sam gently pulled her shoulder to the side, resting her head on a cushion, and pulled the blanket over her. Other than making a few indistinguishable murmur, she didn’t stir; or if she did, she chose to relent to Sam’s touch. Now that her eyes were closed, she looked peaceful under the orange light of the lamp, one almost couldn’t tell she was crying so hard a few hours ago. Sam debated if he should carry her to the bedroom or at least wake her up, but in the end, he did neither. Instead, he sat down on the carpet, his side pressed against the sofa, putting his head on his elbow.

Whatever this is, it fels tranquil and nice. She is close and far, her silence remote and candid, still as a star*. It feels like love. He feels his heart heavy with love. She doesn’t know. Maybe she will, eventually. But not now. Now he just wants to have this moment, in case it is all he will ever have.

Y/n is woken up by the wetness of her face. “Rose, stop!” She managed to open her eyes under Rose’s kiss attack. She propped herself up on her elbow and saw Sam sitting on the floor next to her, still asleep. But that changed quickly as he became Rose’s next target. Did he just sleep all night like this? The light seeping through the curtains formed bright patters on the floor. Gosh, she must be really tired to sleep so soundly on the sofa.

“Morning.” Y/n pursed her lips, containing a chuckle as she met gaze with a hair-disheveled Sam, who was holding the side of his neck, grimacing.

Sam felt every single bone in his body crackling as he stood up. Actions have consequences.

The drive back to Y/n’s house was quiet. Y/n thanked him for letting her stay overnight, which he insisted that was no big deal. Then he cranked up the radio and let Stephen Stills take over.

“Thank—-”

“I swear, if you thank me again—-”

They almost said together as the car pulled up to a halt in front of y/n’s apartment.

Y/n smiled apologetically nonetheless.

“Hey, like I said, it’s really no big deal. It wasn’t so courteous of me not to offer you dinner and let you sleep on the couch anyway,” Sam said. “I am very sorry about what has happened. I hope you are feeling better now.”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. It was after several heartbeats that she said, “You know, your bathroom walls are dirty, Kiszka.”

Sam blinked and then barked out a laugh, throwing his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Sam watched as y/n unbuckled the seatbelt. He could tell that for a second, y/n was going to thank him again.

“I’m not guilt tripping you into this, but…the offer to co-dog walk always stands.”

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Y/n paused as she shut the door.

“Hug Rosie extra tight for me.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

It was three days later that they met again at the park. The weather was starting to get cold. Sam would always choose the vivifying spring days over fall, but he also appreciates some delicious crunching of the leaves as one walks.

“I can really tell the season is changing when the benches feel a bit cold under the tush.” Sam commented as he sat down next to y/n.

“Oh, do we have to get you padded pants then?”

“Seriously, do they make those?” Sam gasped in feigned surprise. “Anyways, how’s your car?”

“I got a call yesterday, it should be ready to pick up by Thursday,” Y/n said. She was chewing on the edge of her coffee cup. “I feel so stupid losing it like that the other day.”

“But you don’t have to, though. There’s nothing wrong about feeling things, and emotions don’t lie.”

“Yeah, I guess. But in the end it’s not about me, it’s about them. There’s always more dogs that need help and always more to do.”

“I know you said not to, but I really need to,” y/n said as she turned to Sam and threw her arms around him, catching him in surprise. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to have her nose buried in his shoulder. Talking about emotions don’t lie.

His hair smells nice too. And it is indeed so, so soft. Green flag.

Somehow, they fell back into the old rhythm after that. Sam guessed that when people say woman in a dream, they must be referring to their phantasmagoric nature. With each day passing, he became more and more inclined to believe that what he thought he had was nothing more than wishful thinking and self-deception.

Christmas was approaching. Their brother’s lack of contribution to the holiday preparation did not go unnoticed by the twins. Jake was first to approach Sam, saving Josh as the last resort. Although Jake doubted if they would really need him.

“Sammy boy, what are you sulking about?” Jake sat down next to Sam, who was lying facedown on the carpet.

“M’not sulking,” Sam mumbled. “You just interrupted my perfect nap.”

“No shit, wonder if you can even breathe lying like that.” Jake nudged him in the ribs, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Who?”

“Quit playing with me, brother. You’ve been spending enough time at the shelter and the park that we thought Rosie was going to the big sis this time.”

Sam flipped over with a groan, his hand laying across his forehead. “No. I think she probably doesn’t feel that way, honestly.”

“Okay,” Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But how do you feel? Really smitten?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “You know the trend that goes, ‘one minute you are asking for her number, the next minute you are getting screamed at by her cat’? When I asked for her number, I was hoping so bad that we will be making advent calendar for our dogs every year.”

“Damn.” For a moment, Jake was struck by the weight of that statement; its authenticity and spontaneity echoed in the air.

“You really got some of Josh’s romantic shit, huh?”

“Don’t act like you haven’,.” Sam rolled his eyes. Jake couldn’t argue with that.

“Look, I knew you will tell her eventually. Come on, don’t give me that look. We both know that you will. But this is not like some assignment where you can just keep putting off until all the points have been abducted.”

“You have my permission to take the day off. But you better be making it up to me once you’ve got her. Do you have any idea how painful it is to untangle four strands of those lights? My fingers deserve better than that.”

Sam shot his elder brother a plaintive look. Jake raised his eyebrows provocatively, but the genuine encouragement still shone through.

“Just get your ass up already, kid.”

Sam was going to see y/n that day anyway. The shelter was doing Christmas dinner for the animals and y/n had texted him earlier asking if he wanted to come help. The shelter around Christmas looked like a kindergarten. Garlands and ribbons hung from the ceiling. Cheerful Christmas carols played through the announcement speakers. Even the bulletin board were updated with the animals’ intake pictures with their new Christmas photoshoots.

“Y/n is at the big dog kennel in the back.”

The round-faced woman at the front desk warmly greeted Sam as she recognized him. He had been a regular; the staff had naturally associated him with y/n and had been secretly calling him the sexy Tarzan*. (Y/n burst out laughing when she first heard that nickname; she couldn’t deny the resemblance is uncanny.)

Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. Yes, he was going to wing it but it’s not like he could just blurt it out. The place started to smell like food as Sam passed the reception area. He found y/n and her colleagues standing in the meet-and-greet area around a table full of buckets and a crock pot with the largest turkey he had ever seen. Y/n waved him in as she saw him.

“Thanks for coming! We’re about to start.” Y/n handed him an apron.

“There are separate bucket for veggies, meat, and broth. You just grab some from each into the bowl and pass it down, Sally and Theo will squeeze in the yogurt and puree, add the dry treats…and a bowl is done!” Y/n walked him around the table as they went through each step.

“This feels like I’m at a poke station.” Sam chuckled.

“It is, special Christmas edition.”

Suddenly, Sam felt more at ease. He was grateful that y/n volunteers at the shelter. It’s at least comforting to think that he would have nearly a hundred flurry friends as his wingman.

They walked down the corridor, stopping at each kennel, opening the door and sliding in the bowl. Some dogs were more timid and nervous, huddling in the corner and coming up to the food when they were left alone. Y/n made sure to skip those ones a few more beef jerky. But most of them were already wagging their tails like windshield wipers in heavy rain, waiting impatiently at the front of their kennel.

It took them nearly an hour going through the whole the dog area before the empty cart was wheeled back to the preparation room.

“They have special food for the smaller animals like the rabbits as well. But, by far, our job here is completed. Well done, soldier!” Y/n untied her apron and threw in onto the table.

“Are you doing anything after?” Y/n asked.

“No, not really. Why?” Upon hearing that question, hope and anxiety bubbled together in Sam’s stomach.

“I could treat you to a coffee for helping out today, or perhaps hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds great.”

“Awesome, you’re in for a treat. I know a place that makes bomb hot cocoa.”

It was snowing heavily when they stepped out. The ground is already covered in a thin white layer. The snow was coming down thick and fast, Sam could hear it falling onto the crisp fabric of his jacket. They walked along the side road. The sky was already dark, making the snowflakes dancing under the streetlights all the more obvious. The cars passing by, their tires rolling over the splashing snow, made sounds like someone stirring the repeatedly pushing the buttons of a a fountain drink machine. As nice as it was, Sam soon realized his mistake of forgetting to wear gloves when he headed out. It was strange how he seldom felt cold amid the big snowfalls, it’s always the coldest the day before. It was always the build up.

“So….do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Oh, yeah I do. I am going to this awesome party. I'm going to dance, have fun, raid the charcuterie board, get shit-face drunk, and then crawl back home. Giving the weather we are having now, I’m probably going to slip and fall, break my face on the sidewalk, and lay there unconsciously until some hobo finds me and steals my purse, but all he is going to find are handfuls of puke that I threw up earlier,” y/n finished with a mischievous smile. “How does that sound?”

Sam was speechless for a few seconds. “I’m only with you on the ‘raiding the charcuterie board’ part.” He finally said.

“Always appreciate a good humour, Kiszka.”Y/n threw back her head and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Quite the opposite, I’m doing nothing. Probably still going to drink, but definitely no party.” She made a stank face.

Y/n has mentioned that she had just moved here not long ago. Sam never heard her mentioning much about her family, and he did not want to blindly assume.

“Do you want to come to mine for Christmas?”

“Crashing your family gathering as a stranger? That doesn’t sound like a very courteous thing to do.” Y/n replied.

Sam tried to focus his sight on the tip of his shoes. Just say it already. He was suddenly afraid to look to y/n. It feels better just to hear the rejection, not to face it head on, right? And could they still have hot chocolate after this? He could really use one now.

“Well, wouldn’t be weird if you were going as my girlfriend,” he finally said.

It was taking everything in Sam to hold his gaze on y/n. He saw her head shot right up. Beneath the initial shock, Sam couldn’t quite figure out the emotion hiding in her eyes. It’s always the build up. Always the build up. But now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well just spill it out.

“I think I really like you, y/n.”

A smile crept up onto the corner of y/n’s mouth, and Sam saw it grew to a grin.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“Hum?” That was not what he was expecting. But he appreciated a question, any question, to redirect the attention from the….previous embarrassment.

“Did you forget your gloves?” It was only then that Sam realized that he has subconsciously managed to snake his hands into the opposite sleeves of his jacket and fold his arms in front of his chest in order to warm up his hands.

“Yes, and my fingers are freezing off,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I am dying of suspense and embarrassment.”

Unexpectedly, y/n sighed and took off one of her own gloves. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed,” she said as she pried Sam’s right hand out of his sleeve and delicately stuck his stiff fingers into the glove, as if caring for newborn ducklings.

“It feels kind of good to see even Mr. ‘beat-me-in-every-banter’ at a loss for witty comments when it comes to feelings. Just proves we’re all human, doesn’t it?” She then took Sam’s other hand into her own and placed them into the pocket of her coat.

“There. See how much better it is if we simply express ourselves?”

Sam could feel y/n’s thumb brushing his numb muscles. “I may not be the best person to lecture you on this because, well, I myself have done a pretty lousy job at it too. But, I can try to improve, as your girlfriend.”

“Can you give me the chance to try?”

Oh god, now she’s asking me.

“My honour, y/n,” Sam felt like he could breathe again. And his quick wit returned. “One thing is not true though.”

“What?” Y/n asked as they continued to walk.

“I didn’t beat you to every banter. I lost in the toilet paper one.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I guess you were right. I called a truce with my bathroom ghost the other day.”

A man who is not afraid to confess his feelings and admit when he is wrong? Green flag.

Easter Egg

Y/n did end up attending the Kiszka’s Christmas gathering as Sam’s girlfriend. Jake was smug about it the whole time (“Told you we don’t need Josh”.) He determined that Sam owed him big time and demanded that he repays him by taking down the Christmas tree and and moving it up to the attic after the holidays are over.

Of all, Rose was more than thrilled to have her over because y/n came bearing special gift for her.

“I brought dog beer.” Y/n said proudly.

“You brought what?”

“Dog beer!” y/n laughed, showing the package of four cans. “It’s just unsalted bone broth with oat and barley.”

“Shame on you for leading Rose bug down this dangerous path!” Sam pretended to be annoyed but was already reaching for Rose’s water bowl.

“Come on, Rose’s a good girl, she can handle it. Plus, she is under parental supervision.” y/n said as she popped open a can.

“Oh, is that what we are now, ‘mummy’? Dog parents?” Sam looked smug.

As Rose happily lapped up her new beverage, y/n affectionately patted her on the neck: “And you always remember, Rosie girl, beers over boys. Well, I guess your daddy can make an exception but… ‘a healthy amount of beer over any contact with boys*’”.

*1: adapted from I Like For You To Be Still by Pablo Neruda

*2: it is from here (once you see it, you can't unsee it lol

*3: a quote from one of my favourite Youtuber: Christines Snaps

Hey, you've made it!! thank you so much for reading!

here's something more I want to say.

Firstly, the two dogs mentioned are real dogs; sadly they have both crossed the rainbow bridge now. You can read more about them here: Klaus and Huxley. I changed Klaus' story here because I'd like to imagine that having pup cups, going on walks, and having fun with other dogs is the life that he should have been having before his life was unfairly taken away. And I want to honour Huxley. The inspiration for this piece came to me because I relay information for shelter dogs that are listed to be euthanized in high kill shelters. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see how many healthy dogs lose their life at no fault of their own. I have always believed in the power of writing; I myself have been healed by the writings of others in this community many times, and I would like to do something with my writing too. I hope to raise awareness through this piece: There are just too many homeless pups. Please spay and neuter- their lives depend on it; and if you ever want a pet, please always go to the local shelter and check out their euth-list. Saving one dog is not going to change the world, but for that dog, the world is changed forever.

Secondly, about the writing; this is my first time writing Sam and my longest piece. As many of you surely must have noticed there are some loose ends, I apologize. I was emotional while writing this and I dragged it out. Plus, I made the mistake of reading one of the most amazing fanfics ever while writing this. I became self-conscious and kind of defeated---emotions get in the way, so I think this is leaning more towards a cathartic experience. For those that have experienced the pet loss, I am sorry and I feel for you. Please know that they can always feel your love and you will meet one day at the rainbow bridge. I intend to dig into this piece further in the future: perhaps make some more changes and edits, perhaps writing some blurbs between this y/n and Sam. If you would like that, please let me know.

Lastly, sincerely thank you to @dannythedog for the gvf secret santa event. It may sound stupid but that event carried me through my finals and several mental breakdowns. It has not only helped me to connect with so many wonderful people in this fandom, but it has also encouraged me to write. I never would have thought picking up writing again would give me so much closure and comfort. Plus, she did an awesome pairing; I got one of my favourite writers here as my secret santa!! and I got to know Nina.

This is so much longer than I intended. If you have made it here, wow, I am giving you a big big hug. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my writings. I hope that there are many more to come.

More of my writings: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || The Lucky Ones

(do we want a masterlist or a taglist? let me know :))

#greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka fic #gvf #sammy gvf

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andromedaspark · 8 months

Text

Characters as dogs.. again. Because I'm insatiable.

Gavin: German Shepherd

Nines: Cane Corso

Sixty: Red-Nose Pit Bull

Connor: Blue-Nose Pit Bull

Hank: Great Pyrenees

Markus: Doberman

Simon: Basenji

North: Belgian Malinois

Josh: Chesapeake Bay Retriever

Kara: Border Collie

Luther: Tibetan Mastiff

Alice: Bluetick Coonhound

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sunnyie-eve · 5 months

Text

12 | Free Pass

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

| MASTERLIST |

The four guys plus Penelope were going to do an overnight video at a trampoline park before they headed off to New Zealand for two weeks. "We're filming our birthday party." Corey says since they have cameras with them going in. "Yeah, it's Penelope's early birthday party. She's turning two." Corey says making her laugh.

While it's busy and they mess around then talk about where they were going to hide to stay overnight. Penelope tried telling the guy hiding the pizza wasn't going to work in the foam pit but they don't listen to her.

Coming time to hide they didn't realize Penelope didn't follow them to hide because she went to go get her shoes. "Where did you go?" Elton asks her but then he says never mind so she shakes her head taking a seat.

"This isn't going to work because you guys are dumb." She whispers but they are too busy talking.

When the lights turn off the worker finds them and they all follow him out. The guy was pretty cool with them so they asked how did they know that they were still there so he showed them their shoes.

"If you just let me talk." She shows them her shoes. "That's where I went." She laughs at them.

"At least she's smart." The guy tells them before letting them play longer.

For the bull riding Penelope stays in the longest making the guys cheer for her, "Thank you chubby thighs!" She pats them before walking towards the guys.

The guys were upset about the employees throwing away their pizza and Penelope said told you so. For Yoga Ball doge ball, Penelope was standing by Elton when he was filming the other three and as Colby threw the ball at Corey he missed it and it hit her in the face since she didn't move fast enough.

She falls backwards shocked from the smack to the front of her face, "What happened to you got it?" She shouts at Corey.

"I'm so sorry!" Colby runs over to her as she looks up at the ceiling.

"Sorry sissy." Corey helps her up.

"My nose hurts." She pouts so he kisses his fingers then touches her nose.

"It's okay, your face is still perfect so you still have a job." Colby holds her in his hands so she gets out to get the ball throwing it at him as he turns his back to her.

For baseball this time Colby gets hit in the face by Elton throwing the ball at him. Elton couldn't help but crack up while Colby shouted loudly, "Hey, are you guys laughing? I can't really hear anything right now."

"Are you okay?" Penelope asks looking at him and seeing how red he is. "Dude, look. He's red." She turns his head for Corey to see.

"Yeah, it got me right in the ear. I think I'm talking loud but I'm not really sure." He tells them. "How do I bend down and still manages to hit me in the head?" Colby asked as Elton was still laughing.

Once Elton points out the snack bar Corey and Colby go crazy turning their mouths blue. Penelope wanders off doing flips on the trampoline alone.

"Oh! Look at Penny go!" Elton shouts seeing her doing multiple front handsprings.

"I can do that too!" Corey runs over to do them as she stops.

Colby then goes and Penelope laughs at how he does his flips, "I wanna go again." She gets ready to do five back handsprings and shocks the guys.

"Thirteen years of gymnastics!" Sam points out.

They guys play around more and Penelope was already tired just sitting down and leaning back watching the horse around.

"You guys ready? Another super advance move." Elton jumps flipping to land in his face. Penelope covers her mouth laughing at him.

"Karma for hitting Colby." She points at him.

When the day came to head to New Zealand, Elton had Corey worrying about his passport made Penelope slightly annoyed because she just wanted to get going to rest on the plane.

"Hey, I don't have to give you a birthday gift when it's time, right?" Colby looks at Penelope as they relax on the plane.

"Nah, the trip is a good enough gift." She chuckles as she opens his camera for them to take a picture so they both stick their tongues out putting up a peace sign.

As soon as they land they eat McDonald's in the airport before Elton had them already starting a few things that dealed with jumping off things.

"Y'all bring me on a trip and the first thing you make a girl do that's afraid of heights is jump off a building, and then bungee jumping off a bridge?" Penelope looks at Elton.

"Pretty much." He laughs.

Going up to the top Corey and Penelope get nervous, "Okay, listen. When I say I'm afraid of heights, I mean this kind of shit like I can deal with like some thrill rides that are high but looking down is the problem." Penelope explains looking at the camera them out the window making her whine.

Corey ends up having to go first and Penelope had to go second making her whine. "You got this. Just don't look down."

"What?! Don't look down, Elton? Really!" She snaps at him as her heart races going through the door.

For her picture before going she does a sad face with a thumbs up making the guys laugh at her so she flips them off before walking out.

"Oh, mama." She looks down throwing her head back.

"She's going to hate us for the whole trip. Like it's her birthday week." Colby laughs.

"She's never going to let go of this." Sam adds as she jumps off.

"Oh, my god! I hate this! Why did I come!" She shouts looking right at her go-pro to distract her on the way down. "Sorry for the eye contact." She makes herself laugh as she lands.

"How was that?" A worker asks her.

"I hate my friends." She gets unhooked then runs to Corey fake crying.

"I know, I hated it too." He hugs her.

When everyone is done, Elton asks Corey how he feels so he tells him he hates him at the moment. "I look happy, Sam looks happy, Colby looks happy, Penny looks sad, and Corey looks scared out of his mind." Elton shows the pictures.

"I talked to the go-pro on the way down to distract myself." Penelope lets them know as they head out for the bridge.

For the bungee jumping part, Penelope was more scared and didn't know if she could actually do it. Colby could tell she was terrified because she hadn't made a peep since they got there. All geared up it started to set in and her hands were shaking so she hid them from the guys.

Corey says he's not jumping because he's too scared. Elton was up first and watching him makes her anxiety skyrocket. After Colby and Sam, they call Penelope's name but she can't move.

"I can't." She tells them.

"You can do it. You did the first one." Sam rubs her back.

"That's different. I'm going head first." She covers her face and they see how bad she was shaking.

"Penelope." Colby pulled her into a hug and she didn't care he was kinda wet.

"Hey, let me make you a deal." Elton walks her someways. "If you don't wanna jump that's fine but if you do you won't have to drive the whole trip."

"Can I get a pass on this? As a birthday gift? Not to jump?" She tries to bargain with him.

"Okay, for your birthday you give a free pass." They shake on it.

"Okay, I'm not doing this then." She smiles, "Birthday girl gets a pass!" She lets the others know happy she doesn't have to do it.

Back down Elton gets ice cream for him, Sam, and Colby, but Penelope didn't get any because she didn't want to, "I don't wanna leave my bubba out." She leans on his back.

"Oh, thank you." Corey smiles patting her arm.

At their hotel, everyone had twin beds and two rooms so Penelope was confused about where exactly she was sleeping because there were no sofas in the room.

"I figured for a night you and Colby would be fine sharing the bed." Elton lets her know, "Y'all cuddle anyways."

"We can make it work. Don't worry." Colby lets her know.

For bed, Colby and Penelope had their back against each other till he flipped over to spoon her since he was uncomfortable lying the other way.

"I hate you." She whispers since Sam was asleep.

"Why?"

"Making me come on this trip to jump off a building first." She turned her head to look at him even though she couldn't see him in the dark.

"I didn't make you do anything. You could've stayed home." He moved closer to her ear to where she could feel his hot breath. "I'm proud of you for doing the first one though."

"Thank you. But I feel like a sissy for not doing the second one. People are going to make fun of me for almost having a panic attack."

"Hey, Corey sissyed out of it. You get a free pass to skip it. And no one should make fun of you for a fear." He kisses the back of her head. "Now let's get to sleep because the RV is gonna suck."

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #katrina stuart #jake webber #corey scherer #elton castee #tara yummy #colby brock imagine #colby brock ff #colby brock fanfic #best friend #friends to lovers #tfil

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topguncortez · 1 year

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Day 23: At the End of Their Rope ➢prompts: ambushed ➢character: Rhett Abbott ➢warnings: violence, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of cheating, drinking, blood, fighting. ➢word count: 2.2k

|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library ||

Rhett had a rule, “don’t get involved in other people’s messes”. He stuck by it for the most part. He had enough messes in his life that he didn’t need to go around, sticking his nose in places where it doesn’t belong. The town of Wabang had enough old biddies to do that for him. Rhett’s rule had a few exceptions such as if someone were hurting his family, his friends, or women.

He was taught at a young age to respect women. They were the ones who cleaned you up after rides. The ones who made sure there were meals on the table. The ones who made sure that you had clean underwear to put on in the mornings. Royal told Rhett that it takes a special kind of woman to settle down with a bull rider, and when he finds her, he better not let her go. And that’s exactly what Rhett did not do.

Y/N L/N was that special woman that Royal had told Rhett about. She helped clean Rhett up after rides, picked him up when he was piss drunk from the bar, made sure that he had food in his fridge and his belly. She loved him good, and rode him even better. Rhett knew that he wanted to marry her, and he was going to propose. He even went as far as buying a ring and everything. But some small voice in the back of his head, the same one that always stopped him from being happy, told him that he wasn’t good enough for her. That she was just settling.

So Rhett did what he knew would work, he found some buckle bunny at the pit bar, and fucked her in the ladies room. Y/N walked right in to see him balls deep in some blonde tramp. The look on her face was one that Rhett was never going to forget. The look of utter heartbreak. He didn’t even say anything to her after that night, just let her come by his house and pack her things. Rhett knew he would still see her around town, she was a school teacher at the local elementary school. But he did everything in his power to push her away.

“When did that happen?” Perry asked, sitting back down in the booth across from his brother. Rhett’s blue eyes had been locked on Trevor Tillerson the whole night.

“Recently,” Rhett grumbled, and took a sip of his beer, “Don’t like it.”

“Why?” Perry laughed, “Cause you fumbled the ball and he recovered it?”

“No, cause she looks like a scared dog to even be sitting by him.”

Rhett knew Y/N better than anyone in this bar. He knew the things that made her smile, what made her cry, what's her favorite thing to do on a rainy day. He also knew what scared her. She didn’t like loud noises, or being in loud spaces. She would burst out in tears whenever someone would raise their voice at her. The one time Rhett got mad at something so ridiculous he can’t even remember now, and raised his voice at her, was the last time he told himself he’d ever see her cry. It extended from years of watching her daddy beat her momma right in front of her eyes. That look of fear she had shown Rhett, was the same look she was displaying right now sitting under Trevor’s arm.

Perry looked over his shoulder, and noticed the way she seemed to ignore everything going on around her. She kept her eyes trained on the drink in front of her hands. Perry looked back at Rhett and shook his head.

“It’s not your business.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” Rhett said, “She’s scared to be sitting next to him. He must be doing something to cause that.”

“Or, she’s just uncomfortable being here. You know how she is in places like this. Swear the only time you were ever sober for a long period of time was when you were with her.”

It was true. Rhett was nearly two years sober while he was dating Y/N. She didn’t like the smell of alcohol, it brought back bad memories of her father. Y/N didn’t like stopping Rhett from going out, especially after successful rides. She would go with him for a bit, but then leave when things got too rowdy. Rhett always felt like shit when he would have her called to come pick him up. He knew that it probably reminded her of the times that her momma had to go out to get her daddy from the floor of the bar. After probably the second time of having Y/N come pick him up, he started leaving early when she did.

“I still don’t like it,” Rhett said and looked down at the beer bottle in front of him. Perry sighed and slunk in his seat.

“God, why did you even fuck that up to begin with?” Perry asked, and Rhett just shrugged. He really didn’t know why he fucked up what he had with Y/N. He guessed that it was too good to be true, that he had a woman who loved him for him. A woman that was okay with living on his family’s ranch and bringing meals out to him in the field. Rhett shook his head, and downed the beer in front of him.

“I need another,” Rhett pushed himself up from the booth and sauntered over to the bar. He passed by the Tillerson table, hearing Luke tell some story very loudly, while the girls on either side of him laughed and ran their manicured hands down his arms. Even Billy had a girl with him. Rhett tried his hardest to not glance at the girl who sat by Trevor, but he couldn’t help but meet her eyes as he walked back. Y/N felt a pang go through her chest, his blue eyes looked tired and worn. She watched as he walked to the bar, and then excused herself from Trevor’s side.

Awkwardly, Y/N stood by Rhett at the bar, leaning her forearms onto the bar top, “Hi,” She said softly, “I saw you-”

“I love you,” Rhett said, his eyes not leaving from the mirror behind the bar. Y/N looked up at him and Rhett slowly looked down at her, “You look good.” Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but Rhett was handed his beer and he walked away. She turned her body to go after him, when a hand wrapped tightly around her bicep. She gasped as her feet tried to keep her upright as Trevor pulled her outside. The strength of his grip surely left a bruise, as he opened the side door of the Pit Bar. Trevor threw her up against the wall of the bar, the only lighting in the dark alleyway was an overhead light.

“Ow, Trevor, what the fuck?” Y/N said, rubbing at the red mark on her arm.

“No, you what the fuck! I heard what Abbott said. You fucking him?” Trevor growled.

“What? No, Trevor, that's absurd!”

“What’s fucking absurd is that you think I am that fucking stupid not to see through this shit,” His eyes were ice cold, and Y/N shuddered at the sight. She was suddenly very aware that she was alone with him, something that she hated. She had gotten smart these past couple months of being with Trevor, she made sure that at least one of his brothers was around when he was angry.

“I am not sleeping with Rhett!”

“Why the fuck was he at the house yesterday?”

She went quiet. She really didn’t have a good explanation for why Rhett’s blue truck was in the driveway when Trevor came home. Rhett had found a box of her things that she left at his house; shirts, some socks, polaroids of the two of them, and a pair of panties. Trevor didn’t ask about it when he saw Rhett saunter out of his house, tipping his hat to the blonde man before getting in. He also didn’t ask why Y/N was so jumpy every time he touched her. Maybe it was because Rhett had kissed her, or maybe it was because she had asked Rhett to kiss her.

“Dropping some stuff-” Her voice was cut off by a harsh slap on her cheek, the strike sending her to the ground. She could feel the blood starting to run from her nose, as she wiped at her skin. Trevor leaned down to grab her shirt, when he was forcefully pushed off of her. Y/N reeled back, moving against the wall as she watched Rhett push Trevor up against the wall, his shirt collar held tightly in Rhett’s white knuckled fists.

“Did you just fucking hit her?” Rhett growled out. Many people had seen the wrath of Rhett Abbott, and many people decided they didn’t want to be on the receiving end. One of those people was Trevor Tillerson, but he was now met with something scarier than a 4000 pound bull.

“This isn’t your fucking business, Abbott,” Trevor shoved at Rhett’s hands, “It’s between me and my girl.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Rhett slammed Trevor’s body back against the wall, and grabbed his chin harshly, “If she’s your girl or not. You don’t lay a fucking hand on a woman.”

Trevor scoffed, “She ain’t no woman. She’s a slut.”

Y/N looked up from the ground, seeing the flash of anger go through Rhett’s body. He relaxed slightly, letting Trevor just slightly out of his grasp, before delivering a right hook to his face. Y/N gasped as she watched Trevor’s knees buckle and his body fall to the ground. She scrambled over to him, and rolled him onto his back, and leaned her cheek down to his mouth.

“I didn’t kill him,” Rhett said. Y/N looked up at the cowboy, “How long has he been doing this?”

“The physical stuff started a couple months back. . . “ Y/N said and looked down at her knocked out boyfriend, “It was just words before that.”

“Come on,” Rhett held his hand out to her. She looked at him warily, “I won’t leave him here. I’ll go tell Luke, he always seemed to be the better of the three numbskulls,” She still didn’t move, looking back down at Trevor. Rhett sighed and squatted down next to her, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You already did,” Y/N said and looked up at him.

“I hate myself for it. I hate myself for hurting you and pushing you into his arms,” Rhett gestured down to Trevor, “I hate that I let you get more than just your heart hurt. Please, Y/N, just let me take you home so I know you are safe.”

Y/N looked between Trevor and Rhett again, and nodded. Rhett stood up to his height and offered her his hand. He opened the door to the bar again, and held her hand tightly as they walked in. Rhett led them over to where he and Perry were sitting. Perry had somehow managed to find a woman at the bar of his own, and was sweet talking to her when Rhett walked up.

“Wha- What happened?” Perry said, looking up at the girl’s face.

“Trevor,” Rhett answered, and threw a couple bills down on the table, “Taking her home,” He grabbed his hat and put it on his head. He paused a second and looked at Y/N, before taking his stetson off and placing it on her head, “Get a ride home?”

“Yeah,” Perry nodded and looked at the woman under his arm, “Put ice on that shiner, and get her to the doc in the morning.”

“I will,” Rhett nodded and took Y/N’s hand again.

She kept her head down as they walked by the Tillerson table, feeling the stares of the other two brothers. Luke got a glimpse of the bruise forming on her face and he clenched his jaw. Neither one said anything as they got into Rhett’s truck. He opened the door and buckled her in, before going around to his side. It all felt oddly familiar, being in his passenger seat with his stetson on his head. Only difference was the newly forming black eye and bloody nose. She told Rhett her address, and they rode in silence all the way there.

“This is it,” She said softly, as Rhett arrived outside a small white cottage type house. It was very oddly her, and Rhett could remember all the times he would drive by this house when it was for sale, promising himself that he was going to buy it for her. It both broke his heart and made him happy that she got it for herself, “Thank you for tonight.”

“I don’t let guys lay their hands on women. I wasn’t raised that way,” Rhett said. Y/N fiddled with her hands as she hesitated to get out of the truck, “You ok-”

“Can you stay?” They both said at the same time. Rhett’s eyes widened a bit as he took in her nervous frame, “It’s just Trev. . . He knows where I live an-and I don’t think he would show up, but I just-”

“I can stay,” Rhett said and grabbed her hand, “I’ll always stay. As long as you want me to.”

#outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range fan fiction #outer range imagine #outer range Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x y/n #Rhett abbott x you #whumptober #no. 23 #ambushed

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