#rhett was *~*feeling himself*~* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lewmagoo · 4 months

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soul as sweet as blood red jam | rhett abbott

part of the million dollar man universe

listen to the playlist here

description: in which a silver haired cowboy finally pledges himself to his little darlin'

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, age gap (reader is in their 20s, rhett is in his mid 40s), slight miscommunication trope, references to unhealthy past relationships, food mention, innuendos, mention of birth control, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, begging, creampie, overstimulation, crying, after sex jitters

notes: this is a prequel of sorts to the original million dollar man sex scene. it entails the first time rhett and little darlin' sleep together! this is not a virginity trope but reader is a little inexperienced.

It had been six months since that fateful day that Rhett Abbott walked through the doors of your workplace and swept you off your feet.

Six months since he’d taken you away from your old life and given you a fresh start. Six months since he’d taken care of every debt and outstanding balance you owed. Six months since he’d changed your life.

You had never known such peace and security before. Instead of waking up on a rickety old mattress every morning, you woke up in a plush bed surrounded by cotton sheets and more pillows than you knew what to do with.

You didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from. The fridge was always stocked with good, whole foods. Foods you didn’t have to worry about preparing for yourself, if you didn’t want to, because Rhett would make them for you.

Because he had been living alone for so long, he had taught himself how to cook. His meals were nothing fancy, but they were hearty and healthy, complete with vegetables from his garden.

You had all the clothes you could ever want or need. Plenty of toiletries and personal products. Brand name things you never would have been able to afford before. Rhett spared no expense when it came to you. His money was hard-earned and he was content to spend it on you.

It was important to him that you felt safe and secure. Lord knew you had endured enough fear and uncertainty in your life. He would be damned if he didn’t get to provide that safety you so desperately needed. And because he was so adamant about you feeling comfortable, he kept himself at a slight distance from you.

He knew your history with men. Knew you had been ridiculed and shamed in the past by them. And he had no desire to make you feel any discomfort. While, yes, he did harbor feelings for you, and had since he met you, he hadn’t made any moves regarding those feelings. He didn’t want to overwhelm you while you were getting settled into a brand-new life.

However, you wanted him to make a move. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had strong feelings for him. How could you not? He was your knight in shining armor, and he had been nothing but good to you. Who wouldn’t fall in love with him?

You appreciated him giving you space to get acclimated, but it had been six months, and all he had done was kiss you. You knew he was attracted to you. The tension you shared was palpable, and had been since the beginning. But Rhett never took things further.

You wondered why. Was it because he still hadn’t moved on from his wife, despite their relationship having been over for well over 15 years? Was he just not ready for sex again? Or did he not want to sleep with you because he thought you were inexperienced?

You pondered these things, but you were a little scared to ask him. Not because you thought he would react in a bad way, but because you still felt so shy about it. He was so much older than you. He’d been with multiple partners. He knew what he liked.

You were by no means virginal, but you were intimidated by Rhett’s experience. And that intimidation kept you from outright asking him about sex. You weren’t quite sure how to approach the subject.

You didn’t even sleep in the same bed, for goodness sake. You had your room, and he had his. You’d never spent the night in his bed, or he in yours. He was so respectful that it almost felt over the top.

You tried to come up with a way to approach him about it. But you still carried the timidity that came with youth. Every time you thought you had worked up the nerve to bring it up, you chickened out and decided you’d ask another time.

But you were dying. It felt like it, anyway. Your hormones were all over the place, and you wanted him so badly. He always smelled so good. A subtle, sophisticated scent that was also somehow rustic.

When he went out to assist his ranch hands or carry out work around the ranch, he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of ratty Wranglers that hugged his hips just so. He looked delectable.

Around the house, he wore relaxed jeans and a t-shirt. But it was what he wore to bed that always drove you wild. Oftentimes, he’d wear sweatpants or plaid lounge pants. You knew that you shouldn’t stare. That your gaze shouldn’t go south. But, much to your own shame, you could tell that he was well-endowed.

You found yourself imagining what he might look like under those cozy-soft pants. How big he was. If you’d be able to fit it in your mouth. And every time you were struck with such lewd thoughts, you shook them off, body growing hot with embarrassment.

However, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had those thoughts about you, too. Did he imagine what you looked like naked? Did he fantasize about you? Did he touch himself to the thought of you, the way you did when you thought of him?

You were ashamed to admit the amount of times that you had found yourself with your fingers between your thighs, wishing they were his fingers. So long and thick. You knew they’d fill you just right.

Could you ever tell him that you’d touched yourself to the thought of him? Would you ever dare to speak those words? You thought you might die of embarrassment if you did.

How silly you felt. How immature and clueless. But the thing about Rhett was, he didn’t make you feel those things. No, he made you feel seen. He listened to what you had to say. He didn’t dismiss, infantilize, or patronize you. You were free to be your own person around him.

You supposed that was partly why you found him so maddeningly attractive. It wasn’t just his physical traits that attracted you to him. Of course, he was beautiful. Silvery hair, the bluest eyes you’d ever seen, striking features that could make anyone weak in the knees. But who he was as a person added to that beauty.

He was a successful rancher, but he came from humble beginnings. He’d grown up poor, and his family had always struggled to stay afloat. Now that he was much older, and well-established, he was able to invest his funds into the things that he cared about.

His father had long since passed, but his mother was still alive, and he took care of her, making sure she was able to live comfortably. He also put his finances into causes such as a local shelter that rehabilitated horses, and a charity dedicated to victims of domestic violence.

Though he appeared rough and tumble, he had a tender heart. as was revealed to you when he made the decision to get you out of the situation you were in. You had been desperately trying to save your money so that you could leave your hellish job and move elsewhere to better yourself.

But waitressing at the local diner only paid so much. In fact, your boss thought he could get away with paying you a measly sum. He took advantage of your situation and mistreated you. You felt so beaten down and burnt out that you didn’t have the energy to fight with him.

When Rhett came into your life, and offered to take you away from all of it, it seemed too good to be true. But he had quickly proved to you that he was genuine and kind-hearted. Not once had you regretted your decision to go with him.

In your heart, you knew that you would be with him for the rest of your life. You didn’t want to be with anyone else. You’d never put much stock into believing in soulmates, but Rhett had made you reconsider that belief. If soulmates were real, then he was yours.

But again, there was that shred of self-doubt festering within you. Fear that you were not enough. That you were too inexperienced. Eventually, it would all come boiling over, like a pot left too long on the stove.

It happened one night when he let his guard down. You were on the deck, stargazing together. Your head was resting upon his shoulder as he pointed out different constellations to you. He’d spent many a night under the stars, he knew them like the back of his hand.

Listening to him talk about the stars with such wonder sent a warmth blooming through your chest. He was so knowledgeable. So intelligent. Oftentimes, people didn’t give him enough credit. They expected him to be a dumb cowboy who’d come from a poor family.

But he was so much more than that. You were in awe of him.

Maybe it was brazen of you, but as you lifted your head to watch him talk, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight, its beams complimenting his silver hair, you were overcome with the strong desire to kiss him.

He smelled so good, fresh out of the shower. He was cozy and warm and inviting. If only you could trail your mouth down his jaw, if only you could suck and nip at his prominent collarbones.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” His voice startled you out of your salacious thoughts.

You caught his gaze, and you hoped he couldn’t see the heat of desire burning in your eyes. “I…” You weren’t sure how to reply.

His mouth lifted into a knowing smile. “You were starin’ at me, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

You were suddenly keenly aware of how close you were. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours. He seemed to realize this too, because his eyes flickered to your lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d kissed before, so this was nothing new. But that moment before never failed to awaken butterflies in your stomach.

“Now you really are starin’,” he murmured. He was inching closer. So were you.

“Uh-huh.”

You didn’t know who leaned in first. But before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, and you were melting against him like a popsicle left out in the summer heat.

Kissing him felt familiar and right. It felt like coming home.

He tasted faintly like the cherry tobacco he’d smoked in his pipe after dinner. Perhaps it wasn’t the healthiest habit, but it was something he’d picked up from his grandfather. And you had to admit, he looked sexy while smoking it.

Pair that with the reading glasses he wore to read the newest issue Working Ranch Weekly, and he was walking, talking wet dream. You weren’t sure why you found such simple, mundane acts sexy. But there was an ache between your legs and you knew there was only one way for it to be soothed.

Maybe tonight would finally be the night that he would fuck you. All your wishing and pining would come to an end and you would get what you’d been wanting for months.

But as you whimpered against his mouth and tried to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, he broke the impassioned kiss.

“We…we should turn in,” he breathed.

You stared at him, your heart sinking in your chest. He looked away, moving to stand. And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Why don’t you want me?” You asked. You hadn’t intended to sound so small and petulant, but your voice was wavering and you could feel your eyes welling with tears.

He froze, eyes widening, flabbergasted.

Suddenly, you felt terribly pathetic. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” You jumped up from your seat, turning to rush toward the sliding glass door that led back inside.

But he caught you, his large hand closing around your upper arm. He gently tugged you toward him, and in a low voice, he said, “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“Look at me.” He tipped your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “Y’ think I don’t want you?” His tone was incredulous. “I do want you. All this time, I’ve wanted you.”

“Then why do you always push me away when things get heated? It makes me feel like you don’t want me.” Your voice was wavering, but you fought the urge to cry. You wouldn’t cry over this.

Rhett’s face softened, and sadness filled his eyes. “Oh, little darlin’. I wasn’t… I never meant t’ make you feel like I didn’t want you. I’m so sorry.” He wanted to kick himself. How could he have been so clueless? He hadn’t stopped to think that maybe you would take his hesitancy as a sign that he didn’t want you. “I guess I just – well, I didn’t want to make ya uncomfortable, or make it seem like I was tryin’ to take advantage of you.”

Your shoulders dropped as realization washed over you. “Oh,” you dumbly spoke.

He breathed in deeply, choosing his next words. “I know that you’ve dealt with assholes in the past who had no respect for your boundaries. I never wanted t’ make you feel like they did. I’d rather cut off my own fuckin’ arm than be the reason you felt uncomfortable.”

The tears you’d been holding back began to spill forth then. How silly you felt. Here you were, thinking he didn’t want you, when in reality, he was afraid of making you feel uncomfortable. But he had never made you feel that way. From the moment you met him, he exuded safety and kindness.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break. “I never should have… oh, I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I just assumed–”

“Hey, no, don’t you apologize. It ain’t your fault. I should’ve been more up-front with you instead of just brushin’ you off. I just never wanted things to go too far, didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t say no.”

“I never would have felt like that, Rhett,” you replied with conviction. “I feel safe with you. No one’s ever made me feel protected like you do. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

He smiled softly, and by the light of the moon, you could see his eyes shimmer with emotion. Just knowing that he made you feel those things made his heart swell within his chest. It was all he’d ever wanted to be for you.

“‘m glad you feel that way,” he murmured lowly.

“I want to be with you. You’ve done so much for me and I’m so grateful. I think I…I’m in love with you.”

He dipped his head, leaning in closer. “That’s good, ‘cause I think I’m in love with you, too.” He felt like a teenager all over again, professing his feelings to his first love. It had been so long since he’d been in a relationship. He hardly knew what to do with himself.

You let your hands rest upon his chest. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, and a low hum, even as his eyes flickered to your mouth. “I guess we are.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first. But before you knew it, his mouth was on yours again, and this time, he didn’t pull away.

He kissed you deeply, lovingly, pouring all his emotions into the action. Your body felt warm all over, as if you’d just stepped into the light of the sun.

When you parted, you were both breathless, and there was a palpable electricity thrumming between you. Rhett smiled, and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled.

A steady hand came up to rest against your neck, his thumb pressing lightly into your pulse point. With his lips inches from yours again, the atmosphere shifted, and you shuddered at the words he spoke next.

“As much as I want to, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight, little darlin’. Need to keep ya waitin’ one more night. Tomorrow, I’ll take y’ to bed, and I’ll touch every inch of your pretty body. I’ll do whatever y’ want me to. But we need to do a couple things first.”

“Oh?” You kissed at the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” he breathed. Now that he’d admitted his desire for you, it was harder to practice self-control. “Gon’ take you to the store and we’ll buy some things.”

“What kind of things?” You gasped as his tongue lapped at your bottom lip.

“Things like lube,” he replied, pausing to kiss you fully again. “Need to make sure y’ ain’t gonna get hurt while I’m inside ya.”

At that, you whimpered involuntarily.

“Gotta get some condoms, too. Been a long time since I’ve done this so I’ve gotta stock up on some things.”

You shivered, though your next words were slightly timid. “What if…what if I said I didn’t want you to wear one?”

“Are y’ sure?” He asked.

He was aware that you were on birth control, and had been since before you’d known him. And now, it was even more accessible to you, because since you’d started with him, he had begun paying into your health insurance, out of the kindness of his heart. You didn’t have to pay anything out of pocket.

“I’m sure. I want…I want to feel you. All of you.” You were more than certain of this decision. You had fantasized about it many times, and now that you were finally able to choose the option, you wanted him bare when he made love to you.

“Okay,” he hummed. His eyes fluttered, lips parting as he moved to kiss you again. He lingered, lips entwined with yours for a beat longer, relishing in the feeling of you against him.

“Tomorrow,” he breathed, “I’ll give ya everythin’ you want.”

“Uh huh,” you sighed against his mouth.

“We should…we should head inside.”

“Yeah.” You continued to kiss him, and he returned the affection, his hands moving to rest against your hips. But he didn’t pull you any closer, no matter how much he wanted to.

He was afraid that if he did, he’d decide to give in and take you right there on the deck, and he didn’t want to jump in headfirst like that. When he fucked you, you would be spread out against the softness of his king size bed, where he could lavish you in the way that you deserved.

So he forced himself to pull back. “C’mon now, little darlin’.” And he guided you into the house.

As you climbed the stairs that led up to your bedroom, you were struck with the realization that it was finally happening. You had spent all these months overcome with desire for him, and tomorrow, you’d be able to fulfill those desires.

But now that you had the promise of getting what you wanted…would you be able to go through with it? Or would you grow shy and decide you weren’t ready?

You’d traded one personal dilemma for another. You could only hope that you wouldn’t let your insecurity get the better of you yet again.

That night, as you lay in bed, sleep wouldn’t come to you. You were thrumming with eagerness and apprehension, all at once. You felt so ridiculous, making such a fuss over this. It wasn’t as if you’d never had a sexual partner before. But you’d never been with one that you loved before. This felt like an entirely new ballgame.

What if you weren’t everything he was hoping for? What if you didn’t satisfy him? What if, what if, what if?

You were plagued with those thoughts as you tossed and turned. You only drifted off for a few hours before the sun shining through your window awakened you.

It was early, but you knew Rhett would already be awake, tending to the horses. You were certain that you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so you got up, wrapping your robe around yourself before you made your way downstairs.

Perhaps cooking breakfast would get your mind off of the situation at hand. So, you sauntered into the kitchen and set about preparing a wholesome breakfast spread that you knew Rhett would enjoy.

You timed it perfectly, because as soon as you finished preparing everything, Rhett came through the door. As he kicked his boots off, he breathed in, a smile reaching his face as he caught the scent of what you were making.

“Sure smells good,” he mused as he padded over on socked feet.

“Thought you’d be hungry when you came back in,” you replied as you set a cup of black coffee down at his usual spot at the table.

“You thought right. I’m starvin’.” He took his seat, immediately reaching out to bring the mug of coffee to his lips. “Thank ya, darlin’. You sure know the way to my heart.”

He was grateful for your thoughtfulness. It had been so long since he’d had a loving touch in his home. Living on his own had been a boring, lonely existence. Now that he had you, he felt as if new life had been breathed into him.

In turn, it gave you great joy to see him enjoy what you made for him. He always expressed appreciation when you cooked for him, or did anything else for that matter. Knowing he’d been alone for so long made your heart ache. Every time you thought of what his wife had done to him, you felt a pang of anger toward her.

Not only had she gone behind his back and committed the offense of cheating on him, but she had done it with his brother, of all people. You could only imagine the utter despair that Rhett had felt when it happened.

But he had moved on. After all, that was fifteen years ago. Now, he was in a much better place. Even more so now that he had you.

You truly believed that the universe had brought you together. And that was when it hit you. You had no reason to be anxious about what was going to happen later that night. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were meant to be with Rhett, and he with you. There was no cause for fear, and certainly not when it came to the man who made you feel more safe than you ever had ever felt in your life.

So the tension melted from your shoulders, and you let yourself breathe. Everything was going to be just fine.

“Sit down an’ eat,” Rhett spoke up, pulling you from your reverie. “Wanna enjoy breakfast with my girl.”

My girl. You were certain that if you could see yourself in that very moment, you would be glowing like the sun.

You sat at the table and did exactly as he said, relishing in a quiet, calm morning with your cowboy. So this was what true contentment felt like. You had been missing out on it your entire life. Now that you had it, you didn’t ever want to let it go.

After a peaceful breakfast, you moved to clear the table while Rhett slipped away to shower the barn smell off of him and finish getting ready for the day. He wanted to take you into town sooner rather than later.

While you put the dishes in the dishwasher and put all the ingredients you’d used away, your mind drifted to the trip to the drugstore you would be making, to purchase lube, of all things.

But then a thought struck you. What if he preferred lingerie? You didn’t really own any sexy undergarments. Although you had access to all sorts of frivolities thanks to Rhett, you hadn’t really spoiled yourself, outside of basic necessities or treats here and there.

And up until now, you hadn’t had an occasion to buy lingerie. But now you were so close to finally letting him see you naked, and you hadn’t stopped to consider that he might like it if you wore something sexy.

You sauntered upstairs to get ready with this thought on your mind.

You spent a little extra time getting ready that morning, hoping to entice Rhett all the more with your outfit, and your perfume. Once you were dressed and feeling a little more put together, you took a deep breath and then exited your bedroom.

You found Rhett downstairs, seated at the bench that was near the front door, putting his boots on. He was freshly showered and smelled so clean. He looked handsome in a light blue t-shirt, his gray hair still slightly damp, a stand of it curling against his temple.

He’d told you once that his father had gone gray early in life. Part of you was glad he’d inherited it from the man, because in your opinion, it made him all the more attractive.

Rhett looked up as you approached, and his mouth curled into a smile. “Y’ sure do look beautiful,” he mused, eyes twinkling.

“Thanks,” you murmured shyly, smoothing your hands over your outfit.

He stood and opened the front door before he motioned for you to step out first. “After you, little darlin’.”

Smiling, giddiness swirling in your tummy, you ducked your head and stepped outside into the warm spring morning. It was a gorgeous day. The skies were clear and brilliant blue. The hue reminded you so much of Rhett’s eyes.

You followed him to his truck, allowing him to open the door before you climbed inside. As you got settled, he quickly rounded the other side, tugging open the door and sliding into his seat with ease.

He glanced at you as he turned over the ignition. “Y’ buckled?” He asked. He always liked to make sure you were safe, in big and small things.

“Yep!” You replied, as the buckle clicked into place.

With a nod, Rhett put the truck in drive and pulled down the long driveway that lead to the main road. His ranch was situated nearly thirty minutes outside of town, so you had a little bit of a drive ahead of you. This left you plenty of time to sift through the different radio stations, trying to settle on one that was playing something worth listening to.

Once you were satisfied with the station, you settled back into your seat, your gaze shifting to look out the window at the expansive land that surrounded you. Wyoming truly was a breathtaking place. You still weren’t tired of the view, even after living here for half a year. And Rhett, who’d lived here his entire life, wasn’t tired of it, either.

But your mind quickly drifted elsewhere as you staired at the sprawling plains. “Rhett?” You softly spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“Do you, um…” you hesitated, still feeling a little shy about bringing these things up. “Do you want me to wear lingerie for you tonight?”

He glanced at you, pausing a moment before he replies. “Darlin’, I ain’t picky. Wear whatever makes ya feel good about yourself. I promise, I’ll find you beautiful no matter what you’re wearin’.”

Something about his words struck you. They took your breath away, and out of nowhere, you felt tears welling in your eyes. You tried to keep your emotions at bay, but it was futile. Rhett noticed your tears, and immediately, he pressed his boot against the brake, putting the truck in park in the middle of the deserted road.

“Hey now, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” He gently asked, turning his body toward you.

You shook your head, your eyes downcast, staring at your hands. “I don’t…I don’t understand why you’re so good to me.”

“Look at me.”

He had to reach out and coax your face toward him. When you caught his gaze, you saw what you could only describe as love in his eyes. “Because you deserve good things. Too many people in your life have failed you. I ain’t gonna be one of those people, you hear me? I’ll be damned if I don’t take care of m’girl and show you the way you’re supposed to be treated.”

It was clear that Rhett had so much love in his heart to give. The fact that he was bestowing it all upon you was a bit overwhelming. Even all these months later, you were still floored by it. But you knew that he had not always been able to give that love so freely. Much like you, many people in his life had failed him. He didn’t really have anyone left to care for.

His niece, Amy, was grown and married, and no longer needed him to look after her in the way that he had when she was younger. There was his mother, of course, but she lived on her own, and even in her old age, she was still healthy and spry, as well as stubborn, and refused to let him hire an at-home care nurse to watch over her.

His father was dead and gone, and his relationship with his brother had never been repaired. So, essentially, he was alone. Until he found you, that is.

In the beginning it was a little difficult to get used to him taking care of you.

It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t take care of yourself. He knew you were capable of doing so, but he also knew how exhausted you were from fighting just to keep your head above water. He simply wanted to help alleviate that burden.

Now, as you sat in the cab of his truck, you were overcome. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. “I love you.”

You’d never spoken those words to him before. The way you felt about each other had mostly remained unspoken until now. But as soon as the confession left your mouth, his lips curved into a smile. One that reached his eyes. “I love you too, little darlin’.”

And somehow, that was all you needed to hear to put you at ease.

He put the truck back in drive and resumed the trip into town, but this time, he let his hand rest upon your thigh as he drove.

The tension seemed to have melted, and you fell into comfortable, quiet conversation for the entire ride. Being in Rhett’s presence was a comforting thing. His demeanor was relaxed, and it put you at ease.

But all too soon, the calm car ride came to an end as he pulled into town and found a parking spot right outside of Walker’s Drug Store.

He wrenched open the driver’s door and hopped out of the truck, striding around the front to open your door for you. You slid from the leather seat with ease, feet landing on the solid concrete beneath you.

Rhett led you into the store, and you had to admit, you felt just a little awkward perusing the intimacy aisle, but the ice was quickly broken when he began reading some of the descriptions on different boxes aloud. Words and phrases that were meant to sound appealing and enticing, but ended up sounding terribly cringeworthy when spoken out loud.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” you whispered through your giggles. You felt like a pair of immature teenagers, laughing at innuendos. It did wonders to put you at ease, which was Rhett’s intended purpose in making you laugh.

When it was time to check out, you were infinitely grateful that this drugstore had a self-checkout station, because you were more than certain that the older lady at the only other open cash register would heavily judge you for what you were purchasing.

You walked out of that store together, your items in a bag, and your hand resting in the crook of Rhett’s elbow

“Y’ wanna get somethin’ for lunch?” He asked you, as he guided you to the truck.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

So he took you to Goldie’s Diner, where you enjoyed all the French fries your heart desired. You sat across the table from Rhett, and he watched you in awe as you recounted a story from your childhood. He was so in love with you, it was ridiculous.

He felt like he was back in school, pining after a girl. It was an odd feeling. He’d spend all these years alone, and now that he had you, he hardly knew what to do with himself. After the way Maria had broken his heart, he was certain that he was destined to never find love again.

But here you were, sitting in front of him, munching on fries and sipping a soda, and he’d never been more enamored with anyone in his life.

He could just kick himself for making He could just kick himself over the fact that he had made you feel like he didn’t want you. How foolish he felt, getting into his head like that.

He was determined to show you how much he truly wanted you later that night. He couldn’t wait to ravish you. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what you would look like, naked beneath him. Now that daydream was becoming a reality.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your voice pulled him out of his reverie.

He smiled shyly. “You,” he confessed.

You ducked your head, flattered. “Oh?”

He didn’t dare admit that what he’d been thinking wasn’t suitable to utter in public. Instead, he reached across the table, placing his much larger hand over your own. “Go on, finish your story. Promise I’m listenin’ now.”

So you did, and he listened with rapt attention. When it was time to leave, he left a generous tip on the table, as he always did. It gave you a flashback to one of the first times you’d met him. He had given you a one hundred dollar bill, insisting you keep the change as a tip. You had been amazed, because in your line of work, you were lucky to get a few measly dollars as a tip, let alone one hundred dollars.

It wasn’t just for show. You had seen him leave servers hefty tips several times since you’d known him. It was a testament to how kind and gracious he was.

You walked out of that diner with a smile on your face, so grateful that this man had been brought into your life. Since last night, things felt different between you. The barrier that had been there, a wall put up because of his fear of making you uncomfortable, and because of your fear that he didn’t desire you, had been torn down.

There was no hesitancy. No more walking on eggshells. You simply felt at ease. And that was exactly how you were supposed to feel with a person who truly loved you. It had taken you so long to come to that realization. The love that Rhett bestowed upon you was the love you deserved.

As he drove you back home that afternoon, you found yourself leaning over the center console, your head resting on his shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, his touch comforting and warm.

At the feeling of you relaxed against him, Rhett couldn’t quell the joy that washed over him. It felt right, having you tucked into his side. Like you were always meant to be there.

You made yourself so comfortable, in fact, that you ended up dozing off against him. Sometime later, he gently coaxed you awake. “We’re home,” he murmured as you stirred.

Home. Warmth flooded your chest at the mention of it. The place that Rhett had built with his own two hands.

Humming sleepily, you waited for him to come around and open your door for you, as he always did, before you hopped out onto the gravel driveway. The warm sun shone on your face as you followed him up to the house, and you basked in it for a moment while he unlocked the door.

As you headed inside, he kicked off his boots, setting them on the shoe rack near the door. He held the bag from the drugstore in his hand, and you glanced down at it, wondering when you’d put its contents to use.

Rhett hooked his fingers beneath your chin and lifted your head so he could catch your gaze. “Here’s what I’m thinkin’,” he murmured. “I wanna do this right. Make y’ feel special. So I’m gonna make you dinner tonight. Want ya to get yourself all gussied up, put on that pretty blue dress I got you a while back. How’s that sound?”

You nodded in agreement, though you were a little dizzy at just how close he was standing. “Sounds good.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he ducked his head forward, lips enticingly close to yours. “An’ then after dinner, I’m gonna lay you down in my bed and make love to you all night. Alright?”

You went weak in the knees, caging your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation. “A-alright.”

He smiled and tapped your nose lovingly. “Good. Now that that’s settled, ‘ve got some boring ranch paperwork to do. How ‘bout you go for a swim while I’m at it?” He suggested.

A dip in the pool sounded rather inviting. So you slipped away, allowing Rhett to head to his office to pore over financial papers while you went upstairs to put on your swimsuit. In the process, you grabbed your Bluetooth speaker, carrying it outside with you so you’d have a soundtrack to listen to while you lounged in the pool.

Rhett had worked closely with a local architect to design this house. It was an A-frame house that resembled a cabin, but it was much bigger. The front had floor-to-ceiling windows, but despite its loftiness, the house felt so cozy inside. It was all rounded edges and worn wooden finishes. Deep jewel tones made up the color scheme of the decor.

Rustic art pieces decorated the log-paneled walls. There were masculine touches, such as bearskin rugs stretched across the floor and animal heads mounted to the walls. It was so stereotypically cowboy, but at the same time, it felt like Rhett. He had many beautiful pieces in his home, but none of it felt over the top or impractical. Everything had a story behind it, a thought process for acquiring it.

Living here, you felt comfortable and safe. Walking through its halls felt like walking through home.

What a relief it was to be able to feel that way. To say that you belonged somewhere.

That thought brought a smile to your face as you sauntered out onto the back deck, toward the in-ground pool that was situated in the expansive, private backyard. You retrieved a towel from the standing wardrobe that was positioned on the deck, tossing the fabric down onto the concrete floor beside the pool. Then you set your speaker up and selected a playlist before you crouched down on the edge of the pool.

You dipped your toes in, testing the temperature before you finally decided to take the plunge. The cool water swallowed your body, and you welcomed it, sighing at the feeling. What a charmed life you led.

You stayed in the pool for hours, climbing out only to grab a raft, which you promptly climbed onto and let yourself float around until the sun began to sink low in the sky. You lost track of time, entirely engrossed in your playlist, nearly dozing off as you lay sprawled on the raft.

“You gon’ stay out here all night, missy?” Rhett’s voice startled you slightly, and you lifted your head, catching sight of him standing on the deck. He was smiling knowingly at you.

“I lost track of time!” You exclaimed, sliding off the raft and hurriedly swimming toward the ladder. Rhett remained on the desk as you climbed out of the water, his eyes on you as you bent to reach for your towel.

Your swimsuit clung to your body, and you knew that it left little to the imagination. You caught Rhett’s gaze, and you purposely lingered, deciding against drying off quite yet. Struck with a sudden surge of boldness, you walked up to him, holding your towel in one hand, swaying your hips as you moved.

You stepped up one step. Then two. He looked down at you, eyes narrowing, mouth parting. Then, you stretched your arm out, pressing your towel into his chest. “Wanna help me dry off?” You asked.

You didn’t miss the quiet, but sharp, intake of breath. Wordlessly, he took the towel, shaking it so that it would unfold completely. Then he began drying you off, patting the fabric into your glistening skin, dragging it lower and lower, until he was kneeling before you, gazing up at you in a way that made the breath vacate your lungs.

Slowly, he patted each leg dry, moving up, up, up, until he paused. Instinctively, your hand came down to tangle in his silvery locks, and he took that as permission to lean forward, pressing a loving kiss to your exposed midriff.

You stood frozen in place, watching him. And then, his tongue darted out, tasting salt and the remnants of chlorine on your skin, laving at the spot just beneath your navel. You gasped, your knees growing weak. Then he left another kiss where his tongue had just been before he pulled back.

Slowly, he stood, never breaking eye contact as he did. Then he dipped his head low, mouth just barely hovering over your own. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll end up ravagin’ you right here.”

You were embarrassed at the whine that escaped your throat.

“Now g’on, go get dressed up for me. When you’re finished, I’ll have supper ready.”

Pulling away from him felt like trying to escape a strong magnetic field, but you managed to tear yourself away, walking on unsteady legs into the house. The cool air inside made goosebumps prickle across your flesh, and you shuddered, but it wasn’t from the chill.

In a haze, you went upstairs, going through the motions as you got ready. You took a shower, used the body wash and lotion you saved for special occasions, spritzed your favorite perfume behind your ears and a little on your inner thighs in anticipation of what was to come.

As you put extra time into making sure your outfit looked impeccable, you caught the scent of dinner cooking downstairs, and you realized then just how hungry you were, after spending all that time in the sun.

But at the same time, your tummy was churning with anticipation and anxiety. Would you even be able to stomach anything, knowing that very soon, you would be in Rhett’s bed, entirely naked before him?

You tried not to psych yourself out, forcing your best foot forward as you completed your outfit. It was now or never. So you headed downstairs slowly, your hand trailing down the wooden banister, hand-carved by Rhett himself.

Then you stepped into the kitchen, and Rhett stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. His sapphire eyes softened, and he smiled, beaming as if a ray of sun had just been cast over his face. “Just look atcha. You’re beautiful, little darlin’,” he breathed.

To your embarrassment, you giggled like a schoolgirl. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, cowboy.” It was a modest way of saying he looked incredible.

He had changed into something nicer, too. His nicest pair of Wranglers hugged his hips. A navy blue pinstripe shirt was tucked into the denim, finished off with a black leather belt, a polished old rodeo buckle fastened to it. His hair was combed, but still had some wave to it. God, he looked handsome.

He had the nerve to smile shyly, and then he pointed the wooden spoon he was holding at the table. “Have a seat, I’m just puttin’ dinner on.”

You nodded, moving to take a seat at the table, pleased to find that he’d set it with his nicest dishes. When he still lived under his parents’ roof, his nightly job was to set the table for dinner. His mama had taught him a very specific way of doing it, and he still hadn’t lost his touch to this day. The place settings were neat and orderly.

He still owned the nice china that had been gifted to him and Maria when they were newly married. Even though she’d been gone for years, he hadn’t gotten rid of any of it. He wasn’t much for entertaining, but he certainly was glad that he’d kept the china, because it gave him an opportunity to impress you.

He wanted to do this right. Wanted to treat you to a good meal, wanted to romance you and make you feel special. He knew that this wasn’t just a fulfillment of sexual attraction. This was so much more than that.

He should have known from the moment he saw you in that diner all those months ago, that you’d be it for him. The one he would spend the rest of his life with.

What a strange feeling, to come to that conclusion after spending so much time alone. He remembered how broken he’d been after Maria betrayed him. It was agony. He’d pined after that girl since he was sixteen years old. And to catch her in the act, sneaking around with his own brother, had destroyed him.

It had taken so long for those wounds to heal. Now, it was simply part of his past. It had shaped him into the man that he was. And to think, if he hadn’t gone through that time, he never would have met you. He didn’t put stock into spiritual things, but if God or the universe had worked this out for him, then he was eternally grateful.

Now here he was, making you dinner, while you sat at his table, dolled up for him. Not even because he’d asked you to do so, but because you wanted to.

“Um…Rhett? I think your pot is boiling over,” your gentle warning pulled him from his thoughts.

He jolted, turning on his heel to find that the pasta he was cooking had begun to boil over. Quickly, he turned the flame down, reducing the heat. Then he glanced over his shoulder at you with a sheepish smile. “Guess I was a little distracted by the pretty gal sittin’ at my table,” he admitted.

You shook your head, but couldn’t deny that you were charmed. He certainly had a way with words.

As he finished making you dinner, pausing to pour you a glass of water, how could you not be enamored with him? Watching his strong forearms on display as he went about such a domestic task, it was enough to make you think about what it would be like for him to bend you over the kitchen table and have his way with you.

You jolted slightly at the thought, because you’d pictured it so clearly.

“Y’ alright there, little darlin’?” Rhett asked as he set a bowl of fresh, green salad down on the table.

“U-um, yes,” you peeped, shifting in your seat. When you glanced up at him, there was a knowing glint in his eyes. Oh, god.

You shook yourself out of your salacious imaginations, leaning your back against the chair as Rhett set everything out. A starch, a protein, a vegetable. It was a balanced meal, and although it was simple, you knew it would be delicious.

Sure enough, it was. Together, you thoroughly enjoyed your time at the table, talking about anything and everything. And although this was a form of foreplay, it didn’t necessarily feel like that. As always, Rhett expressed genuine interest in what you had to say.

Sometimes it was difficult to hold his gaze when you spoke. The undivided attention was almost too intense. Brilliant blue staring back at you often made you lose your train of thought and stumble over your words.

Rhett thought it was the most adorable thing, the way you’d get all bashful. It made his chest swell with pride, knowing he had that effect on you.

He wondered if you would get shy like that when he took you to bed. He couldn’t wait to see the way you reacted to his touch. Couldn’t wait to hear the pretty sounds you made for him.

Silently, you yearned for each other, thinking of what was to come soon after dinner. Rhett only fanned the flames of desire as he reached across the table and placed his big hand over yours, as he flattered you and bestowed a look of adoration upon you.

It made butterflies flutter in your belly.

The subtle touches, the pointed glances, his body language. It all made your head spin. He flirted and he teased and he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in all the world. And to him, you were.

Then, it was time. Supper was finished. Complete with dessert - apple crisp. It was delicious, but you couldn’t finish it, because you were thrumming with anticipation. And when Rhett moved to begin clearing the table, you shot up out of your seat a little too quickly, offering to help him, to distract yourself.

But he declined. “Here’s what I want y’ to do, little darlin’,” he spoke, voice low, smooth as velvet. “Go up to my bedroom. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be up soon.”

“But you made the meal, the least I can do is help clean up,” you tried to protest.

“I’ll take care of it.” Then, he leaned in close, lips barely brushing yours. “Just go up and sit nice and pretty for me. That’s all I need ya to do for me.”

“O-okay.” You cringed inwardly as your voice came out in a squeak. Your legs felt like jelly as you turned on your heel and began walking toward the steps on autopilot. Your feet carried you to the end of the hall, where Rhett’s bedroom was. With trembling hands, you turned the doorknob and opened the oak wood door.

As you stepped into the room, feet landing on plush carpet, you were met with the soft glow cast by the bedside lamps that flanked either side of the king-size bed. The bed was adorned with a handmade quilt, displaying different wildlife silhouettes, all surrounded by shades of deep green and burgundy.

The bedroom was cozy, and it was Rhett.

Tentatively, you sauntered further into the room, trailing your hand lightly over the edge of the carved wooden dresser to your right. Personal touches decorated the top of it. A wooden tray held all of his cologne. A watch stand was home to all of his wristwatches. A glass display case boasted of various belt buckles, several of which he’d scored during his riding days.

There was a stand for his pipe, hand-carved and passed down to him from his grandfather Abbott. It was where he’d gotten the not-so-nice habit of smoking tobacco. You didn’t mind, though. He smoked cherry tobacco, and to you, the scent was strangely comforting.

All of these things – the decor, the personal belongings – sent warmth spreading through your body. It was all so domestic. Being made privy to these things made you feel that much more connected to Rhett.

You took your own tour of his bedroom before you finally decided to take a seat on the bed, your body buzzing, warm to the touch. You let yourself fall back, closing your eyes as you let the softness of the quilt beneath you envelop you. The bed smelled like him. The bed that you would soon find yourself naked upon.

“Comfortable?” His voice startled you, and you gasped, sitting bolt upright. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and he told you as much. “Sorry, thought y’ heard me comin’.”

“That’s okay,” you murmured in reply.

He shut the door behind him, eyes glimmering in the low light. You watched as he stepped over to the dresser to remove his wristwatch, which he then placed directly on the watch stand you had just been looking at moments prior.

His eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parting as he gazed upon you. Your mouth went dry as he approached, and you almost felt like an innocent prey animal at the mercy of the big, bad wolf. But you knew that this wolf’s bark was worse than his bite.

He lifted his hand, knuckles lovingly stroking down your cheek before he tipped your chin up. “If y’ wanna stop at any point, if it gets to be too much and you feel the least bit uncomfortable, then just say the word, and I’ll stop. This is a safe space, alright?”

“Alright,” you breathed.

“Now I need y’ to tell me, sweet girl. How many times have you done this?”

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of your own trepidation. “I…I’ve done it a handful of times. It was never really that good,” you admitted.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “It wasn’t? Why do ya say that?” His fingers traced over your jaw, touch warm.

“The guys, um, just cared about their own pleasure. They didn’t really focus on mine.”

Then he leaned in, bending so that he was eye level with you. “Tell me, little darlin’,” he continued. His voice swirled through your head like the smoke from his tobacco pipe. “Did any of ‘em ever make you come?”

You thought you might burst into flames beneath him. You were scorching. “No,” you said. “They didn’t.”

“Oh, honey.” He knelt before you, and you realized that the blue of his eyes had gone several shades darker. His hands came up to rest upon your thighs. “I can make y’ feel good. Give it to ya better than anyone else ever did. Will you let me?”

Where was your voice? It seemed to have abandoned you as you attempted to reply. When you found it again, it came out as more of a croak. “Y-yes.”

He couldn’t repress the soft groan that escaped his throat. When he moved to kiss you, you happily accepted it, relaxing into the slot of his mouth against yours.

As he stood, you chased his lips, not yet willing to pull away. But then he was towering over you as you remained seated on the bed, and suddenly you felt very timid. Then there was his belt buckle, shiny and perhaps a little gaudy, but in that moment, its addition to his belt was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.

Instinctively, your trembling hands came up to unfasten it, and Rhett watched you, chest heaving slightly at the sight of your focused expression. But all too soon, he stayed your hands.

“I need ya to say it,” he gruffed. “Tell me you wan’ it. Gotta hear the words.”

“I want it, Rhett,” you replied.

He grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheek slightly. “No. Not like that. Say it.”

This was it. This was how you died. Death caused by Rhett Abbott’s fiery gaze. What a way to go. “I want you to fuck me.”

It was simultaneously for him to hear your spoken consent, and to listen to the dirty words leave your mouth.

He pulled you to your feet, your body pressed to his. His hands rested against the small of your back. You were suddenly very aware that he was hard in his jeans, bulge pressed against your belly.

He stepped back, only to bend forward, fingers curling around the hem of your dress. The pretty blue you had been admiring a few weeks ago, only for it to show up in a neatly packaged box on your bed, with a note from Rhett telling you he saw you admiring it and wanted you to have it.

That same dress was now being lifted from your body and discarded on his floor in a heap. You didn’t care where it landed.

That left you standing there in the middle of his bedroom in just your undergarments. Already, you felt exposed, and you fought the urge to cross your arms over your body. But then Rhett was taking your hands and placing them against his chest, silently urging you to unbutton his shirt.

So you did, fingers unsteady as you undid each button, revealing a white undershirt beneath. His button down floated down to some unbeknownst place, and you tugged his undershirt from where it was tucked into his jeans. He shrugged out of the cotton, leaving his torso bare to you.

You had seen him without a shirt before. But this was different. This was up close and personal. You could see his minimal tattoos. A bill and rider on his right pec. Two skeletons kissing on his ribs. 2013 written on his bicep.

Without thinking, you smoothed your hands over his chest, tracing the bull and rider before you went lower. Palms trailing over his abdomen. Down toward his belt again. You put your focus into removing the buckle, but soon grew frustrated with yourself. It should have been simple. Why were you struggling?

But Rhett stayed your hands. “I’ve got it,” he murmured. You watched as his fingers undid the buckle with ease, undoing his belt in the process. Then he was popping the button of his Wranglers and easing the zipper down and you thought you were going to go lightheaded.

He eyed you, and said, “G’on. Take it out.”

Fuck. Your knees went weak. Your hands still shook as you reached into his jeans, pushing his boxers down so you could free him. You gasped softly when your fingers wrapped around his shaft, and your gaze flickered down to take it all in.

Thick and heavy, rounded and pink at the tip. You never thought to describe a cock as beautiful. His was. Even in all your imaginations, you had never pictured this. You couldn’t decide whether to drop to your knees and take it into your mouth, or fall onto the bed and beg him to fuck you with it.

He made the decision for you. “Y’ can have it in your mouth another time. Right now, we’re takin’ it slow.”

“O-okay.” It came out as a pathetic whisper.

He took your moment of distraction to rid himself out of his jeans and underwear entirely, heavy hardness bobbing between his legs as he then reached out to help you out of your bra. Your panties came next, and he knelt down to remove those, meeting your gaze as he gently urged you to lift each leg so that he could pull the fabric off.

One hand rested behind your knee, thumb tracing circles, warm and gentle, comforting. He gave you a moment to gather your wits about you before he stood again. You were entirely bare to one another. This was what you had been dreaming about for months. Now that it was finally happening, you were a little overwhelmed.

He was so close you could smell his cologne, and the underlying natural scent that was simply described as Rhett. You could feel the heat of his body. Hear each intake of breath. He was beautiful like this. The most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Freckles dotted his skin. Years of running around with a shirt off as he carried out ranch work. You thought perhaps you might be able to connect each freckle and make a constellation out of them.

Did he find your body’s intricacies attractive, too? Your random scars and marks. The uneven parts of your skin. The things that made you, you.

His finger hooked beneath your chin. Guiding you to look at him. To meet his gaze. Then he gently grasped your wrist and brought your hand against his aching cock. “This is what you do to me.”

You whimpered. Heat pooled between your thighs. You clenched around nothing. But you still had the wherewithal to take his other hand and guide it to where you needed him. And this is what you do to me, you wanted to say. But your voice failed you.

He could feel it, though. His fingers parted your folds and he swiped each digit through. Your sharp gasp as he circled your clit was music to his ears. “So wet already? Y’ need it so bad, huh baby?” His mouth was hovering against your ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of ya.”

He felt the way your cunt pulsed that time.

He carefully led you to the bed. When the backs of your knees came in contact with the edge of it, you nearly fell backward, but he caught you, easing you down as if you were floating into a cloud.

As you got yourself situated against the mattress, he joined you, body soon hovering over your own, so broad above you. You glanced down at the sight of the considerable length of him, and knew that very soon, it would be enveloped within you.

He pulled your attention back toward him as he kissed you again, pushing your thighs apart so he could slot his body between them. He wasn’t finished with his foreplay yet. He still wanted to savor you.

“Do ya have any idea how fuckin’ beautiful y’are?” His fingers danced down your side. “Soft, too. Like a peach.” Then his mouth curved into a smile as he ducked his head to kiss at your neck. “Bet ya taste like one too.”

When his teeth nipped at your flesh, you whined low in your throat. His cock pulsed against your thigh. He began his descent of your body then, tongue and teeth exploring, tasting. When he reached your breasts, he swirled his tongue around a nipple, his hand attending to the other one.

“This okay?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he wrapped his lips around the pebbled bud.

“You think of me?” Came his next question.

“Wha…?” It was growing harder to form words, your mouth loose around the vowel.

He lifted his head to look at you. When had you tangled your hands in his hair? You had no recollection, but his silvery curls were mussed, and your fingers were the culprit.

“When y’ touch yourself. Is it to the thought of me?”

Oh, god. “Y-yes,” you peeped.

He kissed your abdomen, nuzzling into its softness. “What am I doin’, in your imagination?” Another kiss to your hip. Then directly over your pubic bone.

“I…you’re…”

“Is it this?” Fingers parted your folds, swiping through your arousal. He offered a kitten lick to your sensitive bub.

You had imagined him doing that, yes. But usually you pictured him splitting you open on his cock.

“S-sometimes.”

“Oh? What am I doin’ other times, then?” Another lick. Lips wrapping around to suck it into his mouth.

“You’re…well—”

“Say it, honey. S’just me and you.” A reassuring kiss to your inner thigh.

“I think about your dick inside me.” There. You’d said it.

“Gotta give me more than that.”

“You’re making me come around it. Showing me what it feels like to be fucked by a real man.” Speaking the words out loud felt silly. But Rhett’s reaction made you realize he thought it was anything but.

You didn’t expect him to growl low in his chest. A deep sound, gravelly in pitch. He came back up so that his face was just inches from yours, noses bumping, lips brushing.

“Y’ want me to show you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man? Cause I’ll show you, baby. I didn’t come to play. You give me your pussy and I’ll treat her right.”

“Please, I want it! I want it so bad, I’ve wanted it for months now,” you gasped, rolling your hips, trying to feel him.

His hand against your lower abdomen kept you still. “And I’ll give it to you. Gotta be patient now, I ain’t about to rush this and hurt you.” Punctuated with a kiss. Then another.

He pulled back only briefly, reaching over to the bedside table. Your eyes followed him and you realized he was grabbing the bottle of lube you’d gone into town for earlier. Oh, you’d forgotten about that.

“I’m takin’ my time with this pussy. Because as much as you’ve thought about me when y’touch yourself, I think about you, too.” There it was. “I close my eyes and dream about your pussy, clenchin’ around me. Drippin’ all over the place.”

You whined.

He opened the lube and poured a good amount into his open palm. You watched, hypnotized, as he wrapped that big palm around his cock, smoothing the liquid down his shaft, ensuring that he was slick from root to tip. Then, he poured a little more on his fingers, letting his body temperature warm it before he carefully smoothed it over your pussy, making sure to put a little extra around your already-soaked entrance.

“Gotta get her nice and ready f’me.”

You gasped when he slid his middle finger into you, testing the waters before he added his ring finger into the mix. The stretch wasn’t painful, but it was there, and you shuddered.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he began moving his fingers. “Tell me how y’ like it. How should I move my fingers, baby?” He experimented with angle and pressure, curling the digits upward.

You knew what he was trying to do. But you had been disappointed too many times in the past by guys who didn’t know what they were doing. Thinking they were making you see stars with just their fingers when you quite literally felt nothing.

You’d convinced yourself that the alleged g-spot didn’t exist. It was just a myth.

But Rhett seemed determined to find it. “C’mon now, honey. Talk to me. S’been a while since I’ve done this. I’m a li’l rusty.”

“D-don’t bother, you’re not gonna find it,” you told him, shaking your head, slightly embarrassed.

He looked at you, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I don’t make it a habit to back down from a challenge.”

He angled his hand a little more, pushing his fingers deeper into you. His other hand came up to rest lightly upon your mound.

“It should be right about…” He went deeper and crooked upward, and all of the sudden, you yelped and jolted beneath him. He had the audacity to grin. “Here.”

He built a rhythm, faster and deeper, all while you lay there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide, trembling as he fucked you with his fingers. The squelch of your wetness was lewd. It almost made you want to cover your face in embarrassment.

But how could you, when he was gazing down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky? “Look atcha. So pretty. All f’me.” When he said those words, when he told you how beautiful you were, he spoke with such conviction that you believed him.

You couldn’t bask in the praise, though, because you were quickly losing yourself. “Oh my g– ah!!” You were clutching at the quilt beneath you, fingers clawing at the fabric. God, you were dripping, you could feel it. Briefly, you worried about staining the quilt. But that was what Rhett wanted.

You swore, you’d never been so wet in your life. Not even when you touched yourself to the thought of him. Yes, the added lube helped, but it was more than that. You were soaked because of him. Because of your desire for him. Because of the affect he had on you.

But you could see the effect you had on him, too. Through hazy eyes, you glanced down, catching sight of the way his cock twitched against his thigh as he knelt on the bed. You wanted it inside you.

As if on cue, his fingers slowed within you. Absently, his thumb circled your clit. You whimpered. “One day I’ll make this pussy squirt for me. But right now, I gotta get her nice an’ ready. Make sure she can take me.”

He leaned down to kiss you languidly as he slid his fingers out of you. Then he pulled back, holding eye contact with you as he wrapped his mouth around those same fingers, moaning deeply as he sucked your arousal off of them.

“Mind if I make y’ come on my tongue first, honey?” He asked.

“I…I…” your voice failed you.

He raised a brow. “I ain’t gonna do anythin’ unless I hear the words leave your mouth.”

You had to focus to get your reply out. “Y-yes, you can use your tongue,” came your gasp.

He smirked sofly, eyes glimmering. “Atta girl.” Another kiss before he descended your body yet again, leaving kisses in his wake. Large hands pushed your thighs apart as he slotted himself there. “Need ya to tell me what feels good, alright? If you ain’t grindin’ all over my face beggin’ me to keep goin’, then I ain’t doin’ it right.”

“O-okay.” Your stomach clenched in anticipation.

Carefully, his fingers parted your folds, and he lowered his head, licking a flat stripe up your slit before he swirled the tip of his tongue around your twitching clit. He didn’t give it direct contact, however, only teasing the outer edge. It was maddening, and you found yourself trying to push your cunt against his face, searching for more.

“Uh-uh, lemme enjoy myself,” he murmured against you, hands holding your hips steady. Then he dove back in, resuming his teasing.

You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the feeling of his tongue against you. He noisily slurped at you, humming in satisfaction. You realized that he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were.

When you lifted your head to gaze down at him, he locked eyes with you, and finally wrapped his lips around your neglected bud, sucking firmly, tongue flicking against you amidst the suction.

“Oh!” You yelped, back arching off the bed as your hands came down to tangle in your hair.

He went at you like a man starved, sucking and licking, kissing and nipping. You felt as if you might float away, up into the clouds, straight toward heaven. Warmth was beginning to bloom deep within your abdomen, growing more intense with each passing moment.

You hadn’t realized you were subconsciously making sounds, whines and whimpers and moans, but they were music to Rhett’s ears.

“Y’sound so pretty,” he spoke into your cunt, his voice muffled. He lifted his head only to kiss your inner thigh. A small gesture, but it did wonders to ground you. “How’s it feelin’ for ya?”

“G-good,” your mouth felt like it was made of jello. You weren’t sure how you were even able to form a response.

With a satisfied smile, he went back to business. His thick fingers delved back inside you as his tongue lapped at you, eager to draw a sweet, sweet orgasm out of you. He wouldn’t properly fuck you until he got it. He was remiss in his duties if he didn’t draw at least one out of you before he got his cock inside you.

You shuddered as the intensity mounted. With his fingers and tongue working you over, you knew that you were going to plummet over the edge very soon. The tingle started at your fingertips, but it quickly spread to your other extremities. Warm and fizzy, as if your bloodstream had turned to shimmering champagne.

With your fingers gripping his hair, your brow furrowed as you focused on the way he was making you feel. You pulsed around his fingers, and he groaned, very aware of how quickly you were losing yourself.

“C’mon now, honey. Give it to me.” His fingers went deeper, faster, thumb coming up to rub at your clit while his mouth was occupied with speaking. “Wan’ feel you let go around my fingers, on my tongue. Gimme that sweet fuckin’ cum.”

“Rhett!” You cried out, jolting as if you’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

Victorious, he wrapped his lips around you again, fingers undulating inside you as he drew you to the precipice, and finally, sent you tumbling, hurtling, soaring over the edge.

You blacked out, it was so intense.

You were unaware of how tightly you were tugging at his hair, unaware of how you shoved your pulsing cunt against his face, riding him for all he was worth. He growled unabashedly against you, drinking from you, taking all you had to give as your cunt twitched and pulsed around his invading fingers.

You were trembling, convulsing, unable to control your body’s response as you wailed and sobbed and went silent as it rendered your brain into a mess of white noise. He didn’t let up, continuing the caress of his tongue and fingers until you began to float down from the blinding heat.

When you came to, Rhett was hovering over you, face gentle, eyes kind. “Hey there, honey. That was a lot. Y’ alright?” He asked, tone sweet.

I’m fine, you tried to say, but it came out more like “‘m fuh.”

Cautiously, he stroked his fingers over your warm cheek. “Did so good f’me, but I need your words. You want me to keep goin’, or do ya need a break?”

“K-keep going,” you managed. Why were your cheeks wet? Were you crying?

He wiped the tears away. “Hey now, you’re safe. I’ve got ya.”

“I kn-know.” You reached for him, and he let you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He sat up, pulling you with him, hugging your body close to his, holding you until your unexpected bout of tears subsided.

“How you doin’? Wanna take a break?” He repeated.

You leaned back to look at him, laughing slightly at yourself as you gathered your wits about you. “I’m okay. Not sure why I’m crying. That’s so embarrassing.”

But he shook his head. “Don’t apologize, little darlin’. That was a lot for you, I get it.” He kissed your temple. “Maybe we should continue this later.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to keep going.” There was no doubt in your mind.

“Okay,” he relented with a nod. His lips captured your own, and you melted into him. You could taste yourself on his tongue. “How do y’want me, then? Wanna ride me? Want me on top?”

You hesitated, considering the options. “Can, um…can you be on top?” You wished to be enveloped in the sheer size of him, safe and warm beneath his broadness.

His mouth curved into a smile. “Sure thing. Lemme get you situated.” He eased you out of his lap before he moved to grab a pillow from the bed, putting it down in just the right spot. Then he patted the pillow. “S’for your hips.”

He guided you so that you were spread out against the mattress, your hips elevated slightly by the pillow. Then he reached for the bottle of lube again, drizzling more of it onto his cock, as some of it had wiped off against the bed when he’d been between your thighs. “Kinda jumped the gun, puttin’ this on earlier. Didn’t think I was gonna take a detour. But when I saw this pretty li’l pussy, I just couldn’t resist,” he admitted.

Again, he smoothed more lube onto your puffy cunt as he spoke, and you whimpered at the sensitivity. But you were quickly distracted by the sight of him wrapping his fist around himself, offering a few firm strokes as he shifted to hover over you.

He took a moment to gaze down at you, face a mask of adoration. He didn’t take this lightly, the fact that you wanted to give yourself to him like this. You trusted him implicitly, and it made his heart soar.

“I’m gonna take it slow, honey,” he hummed, as he guided his cock through your slick.

You gasped at the feeling, shivering beneath him. Pulsing with the desire to be full of him. His gaze remained focused on the way your folds parted to accommodate him. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to be inside you.

His tip caught at your entrance once, twice, as he slid over you. Just as you were about to plead with him to fuck you already, he aligned himself with you.

With one big hand placed lovingly against your lower abdomen, the other still wrapped around his shaft, he slowly began to ease into you. Your brows pinched together at the feeling, and with every inch, you felt the stretch. Faint at first, but growing as he filled you further.

Although you had loosened up considerably with the help of your orgasm, the sheer size of him still took your breath away. He wasn’t so big that it was painful, but it was certainly a lot to adjust to.

His jaw clenched, and he had to hold himself back from thrusting forward without warning. “You’re so tight, darlin’. Fuck, oh my god, you feel s’good.”

It had been too long since he’d been in the confines of a warm, wet, inviting pussy. His hand and the silicone stroker he used in his alone time were nothing compared to the way you felt.

You could only whimper as he continued to bring his hips forward. Now, even now, it felt right. As if this was where he was always meant to be, buried within the deepest part of you, one with your body. Strangely enough, it felt so comforting, so safe. Filled to the brim, shivering beneath his weight.

Your thighs trembled around his hips, and you cried out when you realized he’d bottomed out, given you all he could, all that you could take. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and Rhett nuzzled his face into your neck, sucking in a sharp breath as he relished in the way you felt wrapped around him.

“How y’ feelin’, huh? Talk to me,” he rasped against your skin, tongue tasting the salt of your sweat.

“F-full,” you whined. “So full. So big.”

He gave you a moment, allowing your body to relax beneath him. Soon, his mouth was on yours again, kissing you sweetly. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he encouraged. There was no hurriedness in his tone. He wanted you to take it at your own pace.

The tension melted, replaced by an itching, burning, deep desire. You knew you were ready. You’d never been more so. “I’m ready,” you confessed, clutching at his shoulders. “Please, want you to move.”

He braced himself above you, arms bracketing either side of your head as he pulled back and then shunted his hips forward. Slowly, not too fast, but it still drew a squeak from you.

He swallowed the sound, mouth open against yours as he drew back again, only to fill you right back up. Tears pickled behind your eyes. Heat licked at your skin.

The drag of his cock was so slow it was almost maddening, yet nearly too much all at once. You were so fucking full, and he drove himself deeper still. You could barely focus on anything else but him. His warmth, his scent, the sound of his sighs and grunts, the heave of his chest against your own.

“Faster,” you pleaded. “Harder.”

He obliged you, jaw set in focus as his rhythm picked up. Your eyes rolled back, body undulating as he drove into you repeatedly. But he wasn’t satisfied just yet. A little shift of your hips, pulling you up toward him, angling you a bit better, and then, “Oh my god, Rhett!”

He grinned, breathless, victorious. “That’s your spot, ain’t it?”

He already knew the answer.

You lost yourselves in each other that night, in the warmth of his bed. All that had been building for the last several months came forth, as if a dam had been broken.

Now that you were joined in such an intimate way, you didn’t want to part.

Rhett let his forehead rest against your shoulder, mouth open to let out his moans and grunts, his eyes shut tight as he fucked into you. “Take it, take it, take it,” he gruffed, head spinning, strong thighs shaking as he drove himself into you.

He licked at your collarbone, teeth grazing soft skin, sending pleasurable ripples through you. You felt lightheaded, each of you gasping, heaving. He was impossibly deep inside of you, connected to you, to the point where you couldn’t tell where you began and he ended.

He owned you, and you let him. You’d never dreamed it could be like this. A connection so intimate, so loving, yet so primal. No one had ever given it to you like this before. No man had ever been able to make you feel like this with just his cock.

But Rhett was not just any man. He was everything. Your sun, your stars, your moon. Your universe.

“I love you!” You heard yourself cry out. Not of your body. Not of this earth. You were somewhere else. Somewhere ethereal. Heavenly.

He groaned breathlessly, and the pitch of it changed, almost to a whimper, high in his throat. “I love y’too, honey. So much.” His hips stuttered. He had to focus on lasting just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he gritted out. When he lifted his head, his hair had fallen against his forehead in fair curls. “Y’feel so good. I can hardly stand it.” He kissed your tears off your cheeks. “Gon’ have me coming for you.”

“I-I want it,” you squeaked, eyes wide, pleading. “Want you to fill me up, please!”

“And I’ll give it to ya, promise,” he murmured, voice strained, “but y’gotta let me get you there first.”

He switched his rhythm, grinding deeply against you, and your twitching, puffy clit brushed against his pubic bone with each movement. It immediately pulled a sharp cry from you, and your body catapulted into his as if you’d been struck with a live wire.

You buried your face against his shoulder, biting at the skin, sure to leave a bruise. It felt so good, so good, so good. But how could you properly describe it? There were no adjectives in any language to fully, accurately describe the way you felt.

You lost control of yourself, experiencing a sort of out of body sensation. You were floating, but he kept you grounded. You were going to shatter into a million pieces, but he held you together. You were consumed with wildfire, but he was the cool summer rain calming the flames.

Rhett’s voice was rough in your ear. “Atta girl, baby, shit,” he grunted. You couldn’t hear him over your own sobs of euphoria. He was so strong and steady above you. A great big immovable force of a man, even as he lost himself. “I can feel you squeezin’ me. Are y’close?”

“Uh-huh!” You weren’t even sure how you managed that when you barely had a single coherent thought going through your mind. All you could think was Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.

He was losing himself. “Please, darlin’. Let go f’me. I’m gonna come so hard, gonna fill you up, but I need you to do it first. Just let go, I’m beggin’ ya honey.” Pleading, ready to fall apart, barely hanging on.

You were a thread being pulled taut. Tighter, tighter, tighter. Any more and you’d snap. But then his mouth was against yours and he offered one last please. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cock.”

Maybe it was his words that sent you over the edge. Maybe it was that one last thrust deep within you. Either or, you were freefalling. Hurtling straight off the edge of a cliff. You tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, no sound came.

All you could do was let it wash over you in deliciously intense waves, even more intense than your previous orgasm. It seemed to last forever, yet not long enough. Wonderfully dizzying, yet comforting, as if you were floating down into a warm hug.

You must have blacked out again, because when you came back to yourself, Rhett’s face was buried against your breast, mouth open against your skin as he pulsed within you, emptying his seed deep within your fluttering cunt.

The feeling brought a lazy smile to your face. Oh, how far gone you were.

But as he came down from his own euphoria, you noticed something. It started in your thighs at first. A subtle twitch. But then it intensified, spreading further. Within seconds, you were full on trembling, so much so that your teeth had begun to chatter.

“O-o-oh my god,” you whimpered. “I-I can’t stop!”

Rhett hummed, strong arms wrapping around your torso as he pulled you upright, softening cock still seated within you. “Hey, I’ve got ya. Was just intense, ‘s all.”

You had no control of your extremities, all you could do was curl into your man’s embrace and wait for the tremors to pass. “Th-that was so insane,” you spoke against his shoulder. And then, all at once, a flood of emotion hit you out of nowhere.

Now you were crying, on top of shaking uncontrollably. You felt like an absolute mess, sobbing in Rhett’s arms. He was so patient with you, soothing you, cradling you close as your body processed it all.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” It was his velvet drawl that soothed you and brought you back to yourself. His strong, work-roughened hands were gentle against your skin, familiar and careful all at once.

You had no idea how long you stayed like that. When you finally lifted your head to look at him, your thighs were slick with your combined released, and gravity had long since released his cock from you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Welcome back,” he murmured, smiling kindly. “How you feelin’?”

“Like I ran a marathon,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “In a good way.”

“Yeah?” He nuzzled his nose against yours.

“That was…I’ve never felt like that before. I can’t even describe it. You…you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

That made his chest swell with pride. But he didn’t take the time to bask in it. Instead, he guided you off his lap. “Need t’ get cleaned up before you fall asleep on me, alright?”

You stood, but your legs were unsteady, and your first few steps were much like a newborn fawn’s. Rhett bit back a smile as he guided you to the bathroom. There, he helped you clean up. You weren’t sure that you could handle a shower in the state you were in, so he lovingly wiped you down with a damp cloth.

After you were situated, he led you back to the bedroom. “You need some jammies,” he mused. “Wan’ me to go grab ‘em for you?”

“Would you?” You asked, grateful for his offer. “They’re in the middle left drawer of my dresser.”

“Sure thing.” After he threw on a pair of plaid lounge pants, he disappeared from the room, leaving you alone for a moment.

You took that time to gather your wits about you. You had just experienced the most wonderfully intense sex of your entire life. Never in your wildest imaginations did you think it would be like this. You’d literally gone into a shaking fit after the fact, he’d given it to you so good.

Part of you felt a little mortified at the way you had reacted, but it wasn’t as if you could help it. It had quite literally been involuntary. But Rhett has soothed your worries, offering you understanding.

For him, your involuntary trembling and tears had reassured him that he’d done his job right. And as he searched for a pair of pajamas, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Everything was out in the open. You’d both taken that leap and now, there was nothing keeping you apart.

He was glad that your miscommunication between each other hadn’t done any damage. Now that you’d talked it through, you each knew where the other stood. There were no more guessing games to play.

As he sauntered back to join you in his bedroom, he felt a sense of relief. All was as it should be.

“Thank you,” you told him, as you reached for the pajamas. You’d wrapped his quilt around yourself, shielding your nakedness from him. Although you had just allowed him to fuck you, you felt a little shy in the aftermath.

Rhett allowed you a moment of privacy, slipping into the bathroom to brush his teeth while you put your pajamas on. Once he returned, you were sitting cross-legged on the bed.

You were staring at a wet spot in the fabric. “Guess we made a mess,” you bashfully mused.

He smiled, shaking his head. “Guess we did. Don’t worry, I’ve got another blanket in the closet. I’ll wash the quilt tomorrow.” He leaned down to kiss you before he tugged the quilt off the bed. “Next time I’ll put a towel down.”

Next time.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” He was already halfway across the room, searching for a blanket in his closet.

“Thank you. You, um, you made me feel really safe during that. And you didn’t make me feel stupid for getting all shaky like I did.”

He paused, blanket in hand before he made his way back to you. He set the blanket aside as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’d never do that to ya. Hell, if I fuck you, and you’re tremblin’ that hard after the fact, then I know I did my job right.”

You ducked your head, smiling brightly at his admission. “Even so, thank you.”

He tipped your chin up. “You’re welcome.” But then his face grew serious as he rested his hand on your knee. “I need you to know that when you said I ruined you for anyone else…that’s what I want. I don’t want there to be anyone else. Just you an’ me, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good, because me too.”

His eyes shone, happiness glimmering within them. “Glad that’s settled.” And then, “by the way, I was thinkin’…would you wanna move your stuff down the hall and start sleepin’ in here, with me, from now on?” Then he caught himself. “Unless of course you’d rather not, that’s okay too. Don’t want y’ to feel any pressure.”

“Rhett.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d love to move into your room with you.”

He grinned, clearly pleased. “That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say.”

You leaned in, kissing him sweetly. “I hope you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Rhett Abbott.”

He pulled you closer, big arms wrapping around your waist. “And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, little darlin’. Don’t you forget it.”

You sighed, melting into him, entirely relaxed. For a man who had such a rough and tumble air about him, he had a soul as sweet as blood-red jam. He was so good to you, kind and patient, sparing no expense to make sure you were taken care of.

After all, he was your million dollar man. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

tagging (those who might be interested):

@milesmillergf @rhettabbotts @peachystenbrough @withahappyrefrain @up-thereinthesky

@attapullman @sebsxphia @damrlova @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted

@bobfloydsbabe @sugarcoated-lame @sunblchdfly @fragilefearnie @floydsmuse

@blindedbythelightt @princess-vibes25 @rockstxr-x @phoenixhalliwell @xdaddies-babyx

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction

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delopsia · 4 months

Text

stalling | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, cunnilingus, hand jobs, a men's masturbation sleeve, PBR! Rhett, implied marriage. (But also, Rhett Abbott being needy.) Exhibitionism, if you wanna be technical about it. Brief Summary: You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

It's the obnoxious squelch of his drooling tongue gliding over your clit that's going to give him away.

Wet little noises punctuate his every movement. So sharp that they bounce off the walls, running round and round the room and in your ears until it's all you can hear. Has your shivering fingers pulling harder on his hair, yanking him away just enough for one of those deep groans to escape, and oh god, it's only making things worse.

The last thing you need to do is give someone a reason to open the bathroom door. Walk in and catch sight of Rhett's knees against the concrete floor, between another pair of legs. Unzipped jeans pooling around his ass, one-of-a-kind rodeo buckle glinting in the light, right next to where his neglected cock rests in his lap, so heavy that it can no longer stand upright.

Cheers roar outside. A buzzer sounds, chased by the muffled shout of an announcer you've already forgotten the name of—another eight-second ride. But it's not going to be enough to steal the number one slot. No, not with that shiny new record, not even thirty minutes old yet.

"Thank you," he's panting, hardly able to draw himself back to speak, as if doing so will cause his whole world to crumble. "Thank you for letting me eat your pussy."

His tongue is so hot. A wet flame that presses into you, lazily working in and out, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, barely there touches that have your hips jolting. But as quickly as his tongue appeared, it's drifting away entirely. Bold enough to test the waters but too impatient to commit, already venturing up, up, up, back to the swollen little bud that he can't stop tormenting.

You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

"Y' taste so good," speaking directly into you, his voice rumbling up your belly and into your chest, jostling the cluster of butterflies that have been resting there.

The heels of your palms press into his forehead, but it's not doing anything. You can't escape the frenzied twitch of his tongue, rolling back and forth, a feather-light contact that ought to send you through the roof.

"Rhett, you're gonna..." The sound of your voice is meeting your ears, but you can't feel your mouth moving. "Oh fuck—Rhett, you're gonna get us caught." And there's more that you want to say, but you're being cut short by your own drawn-out squeal, fingers knotting in those deep brown locks.

Your heart hammers against your chest with all the strength and fury of those bulls he rides. Thighs shivering, nerves set alight as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking so harshly that the noise echoes all around the room.

"'s my reward, ain't it?" He sounds almost innocent. As if his devilish tongue isn't hanging out of his mouth, the definition of sin itself. "They can't object to that."

You'd like to argue that they can, but fuck, those loose little circles are about to put you on the goddamn floor. Hips writhing, held in place by the big hands squeezing the fat of your ass, forcing you to remain upright until he's had his fill of you.

"Rhett—"

Hinges squeal as the bathroom door swings open.

Sparkling blue eyes dart up to your face, and you can't see it, but you can feel the grin working its way across his face. Boots thump across the floor, then fall silent. The sharp sound of a zipper sliding down kisses your ears. Whoever it is, they're only here for the urinal.

But Rhett Abbott doesn't care what they're here to do. Opening his mouth to lick a long, fat stripe up your pussy, so content with himself that his eyes close midway. And there's not a damn thing that you can do about it. Hands flying up to clamp over your mouth, stifling a whimper that would surely give you away.

That big, dumb idiot is pointing his tongue now. The soft tip of it delicately dancing across you, like too much pressure will cause the walls of this bathroom to come crumbling down. Diligently rolling your clit around like you're a piece of candy that he can just idly toy with. A cry squeaks out of you, hardly masked by the loud flush of the toilet.

There's no reason that this should be causing heat to pool in your lower belly, but it is. Winding tighter and tighter, a taut string pulled to its breaking point. So close to snapping that every step this stranger takes is too slow. Thunking closer and closer to the door, until finally...

It screeches open. Then, begins to close once more.

You've never been so thankful for someone not washing their hands. Already reaching down to tangle your fingers in Rhett's hair and yanking. Forcing that sinful mouth of his away from your sex before—

"No, no, no," Rhett's babbling, whining, like his life depends on it. "Please, I want y' to cum on my tongue. Please, please, I want, I want..."

You can't even begin to argue with him. Because he's already wriggling himself loose, and his dripping tongue is back on you, and his stubble is scratching against you in the most mind-numbing fashion, and your whole world goes silent.

Nothing but a faint ringing in your ears as your thighs clamp down around his skull, cumming without the slightest bit of warning. Head tilting back, thunking against the wall. A wildfire rushing across your skin in the form of a shiver. And Rhett just can't help himself, humming, licking you through it until the involuntary spasm of your pussy devolves into oversensitive, full-body jolts.

"You..." sucking in a gasp, "have a problem."

Understatement of the century. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was being paid.

Rhett leans back onto his haunches, scruffy, unshaven chin glistening in the light. Dripping, even. "But I'm your problem." You don't know who taught him that, but they're going to get an earful when you catch them.

"That you are," weak, you pull on his hair, hardly enough to even sway his head. "Come up here, dummy."

There's hardly a bit of strength left in your body, and yet, somehow, your little motion is enough to get him moving, knees creaking and all, as he rises to his feet. Wet nose bumping into your cheek, nuzzling you in some odd, dog-like fashion that has you succumbing to the urge to slide your hand down and scratch him behind the ear.

Eyelashes flutter. Pushing back into your hand. "You pettin' me?"

"You gonna do something about it if I am?" Taunting, beneath your breath.

His eyes roll, but he doesn't need to open his mouth for you to know what his answer is. Not when he's smiling like that, a lopsided grin and half-lidded eyes. So laid back and content that he hardly seems to realize that both of your hands are making their way down to his waist, grabbing hold of it and forcing him to spin around.

Boots chirp against the floor. And you're reaching toward your purse with one hand, blindly feeling against the stall door until you can find where it's hanging. The other arm slips around his belly, cinching him to you. His back knocks into your chest, so close that his hair tickles your cheek.

"Y' ain't gotta..." he starts, but whatever he's trying to tell you dies in his throat. Shut up by the clear object you're drawing out of your bag. The new stroker sleeve you've been saying you'll try out but have never had the patience to dig it out of the drawer. Inconspicuous at first glance, just a rubber cylinder, textured with little nubs on the inside.

"Can you do something for me?" Ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear.

It's impossible to miss the shiver that rattles down his spine. "Uhuh." Nodding dumbly.

"Touch yourself." Comes out as more of an order than a request, but that doesn't matter because Rhett's already reaching for himself. Big hand wrapping around his neglected cock, sucking in an audible breath from that alone.

You can't dig the lube out fast enough, popping open the cap and blindly pouring it into the toy. So half-assed that some of it winds up spilling out the side, running over your fingers and dripping to the floor. But you don't care; a mess is worth the sight of Rhett stroking himself, twisting his wrist just how he likes it, hips greedily leaning up into his own touch.

Lazy, you drizzle some of the lube right onto his hand, uncaring of the mess you're making. Almost entranced as he spreads it over himself, shimmering in the dull bathroom light.

But then he's reaching out, sticky hand impatiently curling around yours, trying to guide the toy toward himself. "I want..." his head shakes, searching for words. "Want..."

If this were any other day, you like to imagine you'd play dumb. Force him to put into words exactly what he wants and how. But the rodeo crowd and the booming voice of the announcer are still out there, anticipating his celebratory return, and that new, sparkling record ought to warrant him a reward.

He knows that he's getting what he wants, too. Hand sliding back to his base, holding himself still as you lower that dripping toy onto him.

His head tilts backward with a gasp, falling onto your shoulder.

All that and you've hardly slid the thing past his flushed tip, almost have to squeeze him to you in order to keep him still, working down him inch by devastating inch.

"Oh my god," a little waver in his voice, hips involuntarily jerking up into the sleeve. Those knees buckle, knocking into each other. "Fuck."

A giggle rumbles out of him, and you don't need to look in the mirror to know that his cheeks have turned a nice shade of strawberry, set off by the sound of his own voice. One of these days, you'll get him to believe that he sounds pretty like this, but right now, you've got a different agenda on your plate.

"Tell me how it feels," you whisper, slowly drawing that toy back up, squeezing your fist past his cock head, then beginning to draw down again.

"Feels..." but he's forgotten how to talk, mouth floundering without a sound. "'s tight...and—mmh!"

Maybe it's your fault for twisting back up so quickly, but you just can't help it. Not when his ass is squirming back into you, unsure if he wants to push into the toy or wriggle away, mouth hardly muffling that long, drawn-out groan. Even through the thick silicone, you can feel the way he twitches, jerking in your hand like a live wire.

So, so sensitive after a couple days of no fun.

Your hand is already quickening. Too eager to hear those breathy little oh, oh, oh's, set off by the flick of your wrist when you pass over his head. Thighs squeeze together, one of his hands flying out to brace himself against the mirror. The one that you can't quit looking at. Downright obsessed with the sight of this clear silicone hugging tight around his cock. The way precum is already spilling out of him and dripping onto the floor below.

"Feels—feels good," tripping over his own words, voice so high that you hardly recognize it. "Fuck."

And just like that, your hand stops. Squeezing firm at his base as he involuntarily jolts forward.

A whine echoes through the bathroom. Pitchy. Frustrated. "Why...why did you..." He tilts his head to meet your eye. "You stopped." Speaking dumbly.

"I know." Grinning. Your hand loosens just enough for him to move again. "Try and fuck it by yourself."

Almost automatically, he tries to jerk forward. Boots stumbling across the floor, forearm flying up to catch himself as his upper body falls forward. Forehead against the mirror, dark blue eyes locked on the sight of that sleeve wrapped around his cock.

Weak, his hips begin to move.

Hissing as he draws back, almost hesitant to move, like he's afraid to slip out of the toy entirely. And it's...fuck that's a sight you haven't seen before. The obscenity of Rhett fucking a cock sleeve, how his balls sway with the motion of his body, perfect for you to reach down and grab. Heavy in your palm, so full that you worry what may happen if you do anything more than run your thumb up and down them.

"This ain't—I can't," Rhett croaks, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "This is hard."

The hand around his dick tightens, sends him jumping. "You can do it."

And he just can't help himself. Feet shifting the slightest bit, trying again. Quicker this time, the lube squelching so loudly that it bounces off the wall. His mouth falls open, fogging up the mirror, panting like a dog on a summer day. Soft noises tumbling out of him, unable to stop a single one of them.

"There you go," you murmur directly into his ear. "That's a good boy."

Pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip. Eyes squeezing shut.

He's trying.

He's trying so, so hard. But he just can't move quickly enough. Trapped in the crevices of this awkward position, fucking himself into your hand, arms braced over his head, legs too close together. So frustrating that you can hear it in his little grunts, bubbling out of him with every thrust.

"Please," he rasps, head thunking against the mirror. "Please, please, please."

You've got a feeling you know what he's after. "What do you want?"

"I wanna cum!" He's blurting before you've even finished talking. "Please—please let me cum."

The buzz of yet another eight-second ride sounds. Loud. Booming through the walls and into this little bathroom. But it's not enough to cover up Rhett's sob as your hand begins to move once more. Pumping him in tandem with his frantic hips. Drinking in those airy cries rolling off his tongue, hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"This what you were wanting?" Coy, your teeth find the lobe of his ear, tugging gently.

"Mhm," is all you're getting out of him. And he's reaching down between his own legs, dragging your hand out from where it's still toying with his balls and squeezing it tight. Needs something to cling to. Anything that isn't this cold mirror in front of him.

Those darkened eyes peel open, locking with yours through the reflection, and his mouth is shaping around what you think is your name, but not a syllable is escaping. Almost immediately, they flicker shut once more. Your wrist flicks once.

Rhett cums with a strangled moan. Body jerking against yours. Feet stumbling. And your hand is moving so fast that the toy catches that first rope of cum before it can splatter on the mirror, then the second. Smearing it across his spasming cock, creates a dizzying mess with the lube, so much of it that he's dripping, little spots of it scattering on the floor and the toe of his left boot.

"Fuck," his breath fogs the glass. "That was...oh."

Your hand freezes halfway down his length. Almost forgot it was moving to begin with.

"No, no, no," lazily tilting his head to peer over his shoulder, "keep goin' for a second."

And so you do.

Slow as you can possibly manage, dragging the mess of a toy up and down his cock. He's sensitive. You know he is because he's shifting his weight onto the tips of his toes, fist tightening until his knuckles whiten, but there's a shiver visibly running up his spine. Cum spills out of his swollen tip. Hardly enough to count, but it's something.

"'s good," Rhett murmurs after a moment. You've hardly got to do anything; he's already pulling away on his own, drawing that softening cock of his out of the toy altogether. Falls limp against his thigh, that sickly mixture of cum and lube already beginning to stain his jeans.

It's a mess that'll have to be dealt with in the privacy of your hotel room because he's already tucking himself away. Pulling up his zipper and fastening that gaudy championship buckle. One of a kind.

A selfish part of you hopes that tonight's buckle is a little easier on the eyes.

One of his knees buckles as he turns, a big hand flying out to catch himself against the wall. "Shit," he's giggling, peering at you through the hair that's fallen into his face, "y' got me all weak in the knees, doll."

"Don't tell me you need to be carried," you're saying as if you're not intrigued by the idea of giving it a shot.

"Nah," shaking his head, smile so big that his teeth glint in the overhead light. "Might need a few kisses to get me through the night, though."

Eyeroll. Your free hand darts out, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and hauling him in, meeting those pale, swollen lips for a sloppy smooch. The first one lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth, both of you leaning in the wrong damn direction. But then Rhett's tilting his head, nose bumping into yours, and he's meeting you properly. One little chaste kiss after another.

A muffled voice creeps through the walls. Distorted, but you can still hear those two little words all the same.

"They're calling for you, Abbott," speaking against his lips, making no real effort to pull away. It'll be a few hours before you get to steal this many kisses again.

He hums. "Which one?" Kiss. "There's two of us standin' here." Kiss.

Weak, your hand thunks against his chest. "The dumb one who climbs on dangerous animals for fun."

"That's both of us, sweetheart," he had to have been storing that. There's no way he could have come up with that so quickly on his own, grinning like a cat that's gotten the cream.

"You're not a wild animal," adjusting the hem of your shorts, blindly feeling about to make sure that they've fallen back into place.

Nobody will know what you've been up to, so long as they don't see the bite mark on your inner thigh.

"I can be," Rhett winks.

That's an argument that you'll have to settle in the hotel room. Before you can even say another word, he's darting for the door, sliding open the latch, a melody of laughter trailing behind.

"Hurry!" He's barricading himself up against the entryway. Feet dug into the ground, hair sticking up every which way. "Before Archie comes lookin' and figures out 'm not actually sick."

You can't get to the sink quickly enough.

And if anyone notices that Rhett is a little looser than usual when he climbs that stage to accept his award, nobody says a word. Too focused on the hoopla of a brand new record, the glimmer of a brand new belt buckle, tacky as all hell and a lifetime worse than the one that sits sideways against his belly.

...but they might notice when he turns his head and flashes a ruby red bruise lurking just below his ear.

Sure wonder where that came from.

#rhett abbott x reader #afab reader #oneshot #rhett abbott #outer range #but also ->#oc: archie morton #though his existence is only implied

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

Note

I need a part 2 to if your daddy knew where both families find out about them and their reactions

This is a blurb because I'm not feeling it lmao

The fic

"Guys, please!" She begged as they headed out to the truck. "It's not his hat! I just found it!"

Luke let out a laugh as he shook his head. "You can tell us the truth, or you can come with us," he said and opened the door to the truck.

"She's coming with us," Trevor said, marching her forward and into the truck. He sat her between them, keeping her trapped as the four of them sat off towards the Abbott Ranch.

She was gonna throw up.

Rhett saw them coming. His hands were wrapped around his reins, ready to climb into his saddle when the Tillersons truck pulled into the ranch.

"Ah, fuck," he said as they parked up outside of the house and climbed out.

As quickly as he could, Rhett put his horse back into the barn. "Sorry, girl," he mumbled as he patted her neck quickly. And then he was marching off, heading back towards the house.

When he approached his mum was there, talking to Billy, Trevor, and Luke as they tried to force his way in. She was behind them, holding his hat behind her back.

She turned first, pretty eyes lighting up. But she didn't run towards him, like he would have liked. Her brothers turned after that.

"Abbott," Trevor barked. He snatched the hat from her hands and pushed it against Rhett's chest. "You left this with my sister."

It was game over on their little charade, wasn't it? And Rhett was fine with that. He looked at the Stetson in his hands and then looked past Trevor, at her. "Looks better on her, anyway," He said and placed it on his head.

Suddenly, Trevor had a hold of his shirt. He pushed him, pushing Rhett to the ground.

His fist connected with Rhett's face, but Rhett easily turned the two of them over, trapping Trevor beneath them. He hit Trevor only once, to keep him on the ground.

He stood up and pushed himself off. Her eyes were on him as he strode towards her. "Luke, Billy," he said, nodding at them, daring them.

And then he looked at her, the prettiest grin splitting across his face. "Darlin'," he said and pulled his hat from his head. He placed it on her head and leaned down to kiss her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck. "Rhett," she whispered against his lips. Her family knew, and she didn't give a single fuck.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott x you #outer range #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #outer range imagine #outer range fanfiction #outer range fic #lewis pullman #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader

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floydsmuse · 1 month

Text

Here to pleasure you

rhett abbott x afab!reader (no use of y/n)

description: rhett makes the mistake of looking at a group of female bar hoppers, which prompts you to drag him into the public restroom and show him just how good he has it with you. (wc: 1.4k)

warnings: 18+ only. contains smut, a dom/sub dynamic, sub!rhett, spanking, subspace, praise kink, pegging, exhibitionism i guess?

author’s note: hi ! so this is the first fic i’ve posted in a couple of months. i felt inspired after seeing some posts on here and it made me really want to try my hand at writing again. i’m actually pretty proud of this and i hope you enjoy it <33

————————————————————————

Rhett’s jeans are currently pooled at his ankles, along with his boxer briefs. Fresh welts cover his bare bottom from spankings performed just seconds before.

“You keep on looking at other women and this is what you’ll get. Need you to know who this ass belongs to.” You say into his ear through gritted teeth.

Rhett audibly moans at your words, becoming increasingly hard as his face is now being pressed up against the bathroom stall door of a rundown bar a couple towns over. You know Rhett didn’t mean anything by the subtle glance he gave to a group of chicks a few minutes prior, but you still wanted to get a little rise out of him. You wanted to have him falling apart on your imitation cock.

His breathing starts to pick up, as you begin lightly teasing his hole with the silicone head of your strap. Rhett moves to reach behind him, wanting to hold the hand that was firmly placed on his hip. You give it a reassuring squeeze and without any warning or hesitation, you ram your plush tip into his awaiting ass.

Rhett gasps, his whole body jolting backward towards your front, almost knocking you over in the process.

“Oh fuck.” He lets out. Sounding like the wind had just been knocked out of his lungs, as he brings himself back upright.

You give him a second to adjust to the intrusion, opting to place a hand on his ass cheek and soothingly rub over the red marks that were still tender to the touch. He’ll need cream for that later, you thought to yourself. After a few seconds of attending to his bum, the sound of a breathy whimper causes you to perk up. Then another, as you stood seated inside of him.

“Mo…move…please.” Came Rhett, in a tone that could only be described as whiny and pitchy to the ear.

You normally wouldn’t give in to this type of behavior or his pleading when in sub space, since Rhett normally enjoyed begging for it. But you decided to give him what he so desired. You grab a hold of his hips once again and start to move, thrusting in and out at a steady pace, not wanting to work him up too much just yet.

Rhett lets out a breathy groan, allowing his head to roll back from the sensation. He locks eyes onto a flickering light that’s attached to the ceiling, but presumably shuts them again. The feeling of your dick brushing against his prostate had him reeling, but it was only going to get more intense from here.

You begin picking up the pace, hips slamming against Rhett’s backside. Your nails dig into his sides, causing your lover to let out a light hiss at the sharp feeling. His hands lay against the stall door, intermittently balling into fists and wishing they had something to grip on to. The sounds of Rhett’s high pitched moans and semi public atmosphere made you wet. Your thighs instinctively start rubbing together, causing your thrusts to be a bit staggered.

“You’re taking me so well baby. Doing so damn good.”

Rhett hums in appreciation at the praise, always a sucker for it. You’re quick to revert back to your original pace, wanting to let your lover reach his peak before you worry about getting yourself off.

Although the room is being overshadowed by the noises of your boyfriend, you could still hear the door to the bathroom creak open. Rhett doesn’t quite realize it himself yet, too lost in his current pleasure induced predicament.

You opt to reach forward and place a hand over his mouth, shielding his sounds from the three pairs of heeled footsteps that make their way onto the tiled floors. You feel his body freeze up, now suddenly aware of the presence of others in the room.

The set of footsteps stop in front of the mirrors and voices are soon heard, talks of gossip and bullshiting about god knows what takes place. The group appeared to be intoxicated, slurred speech giving them away almost instantly. You’re far too focused on the man bent over in front of you to be fully invested in their conversation right now.

So you keep up with your thrusts, not giving Rhett any time to “breathe” so to speak. His groans are muffled but not to the point where they are completely incoherent. Your hand can only do so much. But still you proceed, now allowing your fingers to dance over his sides and onto his clothed stomach. You bump into his erect member on the way, which stands flushed against his belly.

You grab a hold of it, feeling it pulsating in anticipation against your palm. You take the time to rub over his flushed tip and the pad of your thumb becomes coated in beads of precum. You then wrap your fingers around the base, giving him a few measly strokes before committing to fully jerking him off.

The combination of being fucked in the ass and having his sensitive cock played with was a lot for Rhett to take. The group of bar goers still remained at their place in front of the sink mirrors, jabbering on and on, as you gave your all to the man in front of you, while still being somewhat discreet.

You ignite something in Rhett, unleashing a fire within his belly that lights up only when he’s in this position. He’s practically putty in your hands, as you grow tired from giving him what he needs.

You take this opportunity to move your hand away from his parted mouth, not caring about who hears you at this point in time. All that mattered to you was getting Rhett to reach his tipping point.

“Fuck…I…I’m close.” He muttered, also catching onto the fact that people were stood only a few feet away. The door acting as barrier between them and the both of you.

You reach out, grabbing a handful of his brunette locks. You pull on them and bring your lips to meet his ear once again,

“Let go for me Rhett, cum.” You instruct, while giving him a few more strokes, as spews of fresh seed spray out from his mushroom tip. You slowly pull out of him, grabbing onto the walls for some support, as your legs ran numb. Rhett adjusts his wranglers, tucking himself back into the confines of denim, and sinking down to the floor from pure exhaustion. You hear snickering coming from outside of the stall and a few slurred comments are shared about your endeavors, but you pay it no mind.

Rhett’s eyes are glossed over and his breathing is labored, but becomes less so within a few seconds. You also give yourself some time to come down from this dominating high, removing your secreted strap in the meantime.

When composure is regained and it’s just the two of you, you reach over to grab a small bag that lays next to Rhett’s side. It contained wipes, hand sanitizer, lotion, pain medicine, some snacks, water, and mints. You lock eyes on the wipes and mints, carefully taking them out of the bag and earning a smug expression from Rhett.

“What is it handsome?” You inquire, already knowing that those mints were what he was longing for. Rhett always took to sucking on one when in a fuzzy headspace. A tactic used to self soothe and bring him back to reality.

He doesn’t say a word, however. Instead Rhett leans over to you, dodging the red and white rounded candies that lay comfortably in your lap. He motions his pointer finger towards your leg, causing you to curiously look down. He brushes over a trail of your slick that’s making its way towards your ankle. You hadn’t noticed, but you were quite literally soaked to the core.

Without missing a beat, Rhett collects a singular drop of your sweet nectar and brings it up to his parted lips. He sticks it into his mouth, sucking on the digit and letting out a loud mhmm at the very taste of you. It’s like a switch suddenly goes off in his head, brought on by your arousal.

“Think It’s my turn to make you feel good sweets. Up against the stall door, now.” He lustfully speaks, moving in to peck your lips.

You’re almost too quick to stand up on your feet, eagerly pressing your body against the door. Within a second Rhett is on you like a moth drawn to a flame. Man this was going to be fun, you thought to yourself.

tagging: @auroralightsthesky @fairyheart @lewmagoo @spidervman @whisperofsong @sebsxphia @casualhilarity @fore45fore @mrspedropascal5683

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x you #rhett x reader #lewis pullman

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sunblchdfly · 19 days

Text

four times rhett abbott has said “i love you”.

pairing: rhett abbott x reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, not proof-read.

a/n: very loosely based on the song and music video oklahoma smokeshow by zach bryan. i reeaallly want to elaborate on rhett picking you up after a date gone wrong. might write that sometime in the future.

august 27, 2017

you two lay in the field of wildflowers soaking up the last of the summer sun. it was late august, and the leaves didn’t stick around long after that. your eyes were closed, thinking of nothing but the summer breeze and the itchy grass beneath you. rhett lay next to you, watching you. he took you in. the way the golden sun hit your face, the way your hair sprawled out under you, the way your eyes squint in the sun, even the way your hands were still clasped around the flowers you’d picked.

“i love you.” he whispered, barely audible. he didn’t mean to say it…it just slipped out. he couldn’t help it. you just looked so. beautiful.

“did you say something?” you turned to him, propping yourself up on your arm.

“nothing. i said nothing.” rhett replied, putting on his brightest smile.

—

september 16, 2018

you ran out of the bar, blinded by your own tears. you see the blur of rhetts truck just a few feet away from you. you’d called him when your date went absolutely horrible. not only was your date drunk when you’d arrived, but he tried feeling you up. multiple times.

ring, ring, ring! was all you could hear over the loud laughter and music.

“hello?” you heard over the other end. “Rhett,” you cried out. “can you please come get me? I’m at Brock’s.”

“whoa, hey, hey, what happened?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“i-i don’t wanna-i can’t- rhett please, can you come get me?” you said, choking on a sob.

“im on my way, do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” he asked.

“yes.” was all you could mewl out. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else. you just cried. rhett felt his stomach churn. he couldn’t stand when you were upset, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

“i’m sorry.” was the first thing you said when you got in.

“why are you sorry? hey,” he said calmly as he took your hand. “look at me. what happened?” he looked at you anxiously. a million things were going through his head right now, but all he could focus on was if you were hurt.

“please, just drive.” you whispered. your voice was broken and hoarse from all of the crying.

rhett said nothing. it was clear you didn’t want to talk about whatever had happened to you. he knew that in time you would come to him. you always did.

“It’ll be okay, I lo-.” he said, and stopped himself. He’s not sure you heard, anyway. you were lost in your own thoughts as you rested your head against the window watching the bar disappear in the distance.

—

march 7, 2019

your post high haze still clouded your mind. you guys have been doing this for a few months now, but it always ended with you waking up to a cold, unsolicited bed. it wasn’t like rhett to stay, usually he’d already be gone by now. yet, you and rhett lay in the twisted linen. he watched you, his arm under you, as you caught your breath. you’d made the sweetest sounds for him. rhett had taken a mental note of every moan, whimper, and cry. he’s had years to think of ways to undo you, to make you fall apart at his fingertips. he’s still trying fathom how it’s become his reality now.

you waited for him to say something. your mind was racing, you don’t know if you’d just ruined the only true friendship you’ve ever had or-

“i love you. i’m in love with you.” rhett stumbled over his words. “ever since i’ve known you. you’re it for me.”

he waited for a response. you looked at him and brought your hand up the his cheek, he automatically leaned into your touch.

“you don’t have to say anythin-“ he tried to get out, but you interrupted.

“be quiet, cowboy. i love you too.” you said. he stared at you for another minute before he pulled you closer to him and pressed his lips to yours.

—

July 2, 2022

rhett winces at your touch. his head was on fire. he took a nasty fall at the latest rodeo. so, here you are at 1am patching up your husband.

“it’s not even that bad.” rhett cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. it was a complete and total lie. it hurt him to even speak.

You shot him a glare.

the pale moonlight painted his face through the window. rhett groaned as he tried to get into a more comfortable position.

“okay, i’m done.” you said, helping him up after you’ve finished the last bandage.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “thank you, baby.” even after all of this time, his southern drawl still made your stomach do flips. his accent became thicker by every second he got more tired.

you went to go clean up the first aid kit you had laying out, but rhett had other plans. he pulled you next to him, wincing as he did so. you couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

“and what do you think you’re doing?” you asked, a small grin adorning your face.

“need you,” was all he muttered, face buried in your neck, nipping at the delicate skin. his fingers danced around the waistband of your pajama shorts. your hand found the back of his head. you ran your hands through his chestnut locks and gave a little tug. you hummed, letting yourself feel the bliss of your lover.

“we can’t.” you said in a defeated tone. “when you’re better, i promise you can have me anyway you’d like,” you smiled and lifted his head from your neck. you ran your thumb across his bottom lip. “or I’ll have you, cowboy.” you smirked.

rhett looked at you like you were the only person in the world. you were, truly. to him you were everything. his night and his day.

“god, i love you.”

———

a/n: please let me know of any typos <3

#i kinda hate this lol might delete later <3 #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x you #outer range

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petcr3 · 1 year

Text

dreams | rhett abbott x reader

summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know

a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out

You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.

“Wabang?”

“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.”

“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”

“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.

“Mean.”

You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.

“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.

“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer

“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.

“Thought you did that anyway.”

“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”

You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.

“Go on.”

“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”

“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..

“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”

“What about a dog?”

“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”

“Agreed.”

“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.

“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”

You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.

“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.

“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.

“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.

“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”

“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”

“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.

“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair.

“Where’d I lose you?”

“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.

“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.

“The what?”

“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.

“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”

“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.

“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.

“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”

“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.

Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #outer range imagine #lewis pullman x reader #nobody perceive me #pls and thank you

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annwrites · 3 months

Text

a house in hawkins. part five.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: a local boxing match is held in town, & afterward, you have the worst night of your life.

— tags: you finally see scott for what he is. billy brings you home with him to keep you safe.

— tw: rape (there is a very graphic & heavily-detailed sex scene in this one, which was hard for me to even write. i considered skipping past it & just getting to reader's reaction once it's done, but decided against that. you have been warned.), suicidal ideation

— word count: 7,931

— a/n: i fucking HATE these men, oh my god (says the person who created them).

yeah, i'm not in a great place rn, so if that comes across in my writing: kachow.

— tag list: @stoneyweezin @ganjas-shit

You ride with Scott to the fight, staying pressed up against his side the whole way over to the local rec center where it's being held. It's just amateur boxing—bare fists only—with only three weight classes and four contestants in each.

Winners in each weight class will go up against each other after defeating their initial opponents, and whoever wins gets—what you assume will be—a cheap belt to show off, and bragging rights.

Scott is going to be fighting for the heavyweight title, which makes heat pool in your core. Just the thought of him shirtless and throwing fists with another man had gotten him lucky before the two of you headed over.

You wrap your arms around his own that’s not atop the wheel and just stare at him, making his lip twitch.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

You drag his hand between your thighs and he chuckles. “Again?”

“Do you want to pull over somewhere?”

He grins. “I’d love nothing more, sweetheart, but you’re going to make me late if you keep it up.”

You keep his hand in-place, but don’t push it any further. You’d only been joking, anyway.

Well, half-joking.

“I want you to know that no matter what happens, even if you lose, that I’m really proud of you just for trying. Putting yourself out there.”

He smiles. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You wonder how he doesn’t seem nervous. You're beyond jittery on his behalf. Worried something will go wrong and he’ll end up seriously injured, if not having to be taken to a hospital. But he’d told you that they would have medical care, and an ambulance as well, on standby tonight just incase. But he was sure he’d be fine.

You prayed for as much.

When he pulls into the parking lot, the place is already packed with people milling about, generally having a good time, and having little tailgate parties before the fighting begins.

You smile, feeling excited.

“There’s the big man!” Joe calls as you and Scott get closer to his truck, which has an open cooler sitting upon the tailgate, numerous tallboys sitting on ice inside of it.

You release Scott’s hand, so he and Joe can embrace with smiles and laughs.

You glance to your left and see that Travis is here as well. He smiles at you, and you do the same in return.

Rhett is absent, but you’re not wholly surprised. He’d been making himself more distant from the group for awhile. Now, you supposed, you understood why.

You really do wish him all the best once he leaves for Indianapolis. You're sure he’ll make the most of it.

You then turn your full attention back to Scott, pressing yourself up against his backside, wrapping your arms around his middle and closing your eyes, smiling warmly at the feel of him; the rumble of his voice through his back as he speaks to the other guys about tonight.

Finally, he turns back to you, cupping your face in his hands. He leans down, crushing his lips to yours.

When he pulls away, you beam up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you. And I’m proud of you either way,” you remind him.

He smiles, kissing you one last time before heading inside.

You watch as he disappears into the crowd, only then turning back to the rest of them, watching as Joe retrieves another beer, popping the tab on it before taking a long drink, his eyes trailing along your tight body.

You’d done your hair in braids again, worn jean shorts that hugged your waist, and a black Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt that was cut into fringes at the bottom, a pair of flip-flops on your feet, numerous bracelets on your wrists.

You glance to Travis and see that he’s already looking at you as well, smiling.

You step closer to him, desperate to have his hands on you instead of Joe’s.

You smile up at him. “Hi.”

He runs his knuckles along your cheek. “Hi, baby.”

“Is your friend coming?”

He raises a brow. “Already got your eyes on Cy, huh?”

You smile, laughing lightly. “No, I was just curious. I just figured if you were here, he would be, too.”

He nods toward the direction behind you. “Well, looks like you’re in luck.”

You glance behind you for only a moment to see Cyrus climbing out of an older model Chevy Impala; sleek and black and shiny.

You then turn back to Travis. “He kind of scares me a little.”

“He can seem intimidating at first. But once you get to know him, you’ll see that he’s a pretty laid-back guy.”

You step closer to him, pressing your hands against his chest. “Like you?”

He smiles. “Difference is, I’m also fun.”

“Oh, really?”

“What?” He asks, gesturing toward himself. “You think I’m all work and no play?”

You shrug, studying him with a smile.

He turns around then, bending at the knees. “Hop on.”

You laugh. “What? On your back? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty serious piggyback.”

You step closer, gripping his shoulders, then hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. His arms support you under your calves, hands clasping at the fingers as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself securely in-place as he stands straight once again.

Honestly, being wrapped around him makes you feel just the least bit more secure since you’re going to be around Cyrus in just a moment.

Travis turns his head to the right. “You good?”

You nod. “Mhm.”

He pretends to consider for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe I should readjust.”

He pretends to drop you for a moment, quickly bending down, loosening his hands and you squeal, laughing, hugging yourself closer to him. “No, stop!”

“Yes? Was that a yes?” He does it again.

“Travis!”

Joe jumps into the playful banter. “I don’t know. Think those shorts need adjustin’. What do you think, honey?”

He walks around behind you, squeezing your ass cheeks in both of his hands, humming his approval at the feel. You just laugh louder. “Joe!”

You playfully kick off a flip-flop and then another and he chuckles, giving you a firm smack before retrieving both, stuffing them in one of his back pockets.

Travis then whirls you one way, then the other, and he pauses for a moment as Cyrus comes over.

And then you spot him across the lot, watching you.

Billy.

You can’t make out his expression. It seems…unreadable. You wonder if he’s ashamed of you.

And then you think of your conversation from yesterday. That you’d warned him of this, so he’s aware of what’s going on. Why you’re…this girl tonight.

That this—this moment of your eyes meeting—is you saying hi; that you can’t wait to be with him again. And he’s replying; telling you that he sees you. Not the you you’re giving the boys this evening to make them happy. The you from the house. Your house—as in both of you.

Travis whirls you back in the other direction, Billy disappearing from your line-of-sight.

You glance to Cyrus and he watches you with dark eyes, only a nearly-undetectable smirk upon his lips.

Music then blares from the entrance of the rec center—Saturday Night Special, even if it is Friday—and the boys turn in that direction.

Joe quickly shuts his cooler, pushing it further back on the bed of his truck before slamming the tailgate up and the four of you make your way inside.

Your seats are nearly ringside, and, even if you have a ticket, meaning you have a seat, Joe just pulls you onto his lap instead. You bite back a groan and an eye-roll at the gesture as he bounces his thigh under you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his hand settling atop your thigh.

You just instead smile like a happy little idiot, and he seems pleased.

You drown out the conversation between he and Travis and Cyrus while you glance around, pretending to just people-watch, when in reality, you’re trying to spot Billy.

And then you do. In the nosebleeds. You nearly feel guilty at your far-superior seats.

You see him before he sees you, but when he does, he merely greets you with a gentle nod and you just blink at him in response, before turning back around. You hate that you can’t even give him a smile, but God-forbid one of the guys are watching you while you watch him and you don’t know it, and then questions start getting asked.

You’re doing it to protect him.

It’s perhaps ten minutes later before someone comes onto a microphone, welcoming everyone to the event and stating that the first fight will commence in another ten minutes, essentially telling the crowd that now is the time to go to the restrooms and concessions if they so need it.

You turn back to Joe. “I think I’m going to run to the restroom.”

He nods. “Grab me a couple beers while you’re up, honey.”

You stand on bare feet, waiting as he retrieves his wallet, and then handing you a five. “I’m going to grab a pretzel, too.”

He nods. “Just use the change from the Buds.”

You stuff the money into your pocket, then stare at him with a soft smile.

He smirks. “Somethin’ else you need?”

“My shoes.”

He crosses his arms. “And what do I get?”

You lean in toward him, gripping the back of his chair with one hand and you can just feel the other two’s eyes on your ass. “I’m getting you your beer, aren’t I?”

He smirks. “Alright.” He slips your shoes from his back pocket, setting them on the floor and you grip his shoulder for a moment as you slip them on.

Just as you go to head out, Cyrus stands. “I’ll go with you. Grab something myself.”

You smile and nod, heading out into the bustling crowd of people grabbing snacks and making last-minute bathroom breaks. You head in the direction of the lady’s room, quickly giving yourself a once-over in the mirror before relieving yourself and heading back out…to find Cyrus leaning against a wall, waiting for you with crossed arm.

You blush. “You didn’t have to wait.”

He shrugs, pushing off the wall. “It’s fine.”

You follow him to the concessions and have to assure the young man running it that the beer is indeed not for you, until Cyrus grabs the cash from your hand, shoving it in his direction and telling him to give you whatever the hell you want.

And he does.

You turn back to Cyrus. “Thank you,” you say sweetly.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, taking a sip of his own beer. “You got it.”

You know by this touch alone that he already has his eyes on having you next. You wonder what all Travis has told him about you. Or Scott when they went out drinking.

You return to your seat in Joe's lap and wait for the first fight to start.

During Scott's match against his opponent, you, along with the rest of the guys, had cheered him onto victory. You'd stood for most of it, breath caught in your throat as you watched him; his body, his footwork, feeling every blow he took yourself, clenching your hands tightly against your chest, gasping each time he ended up close to the rope, terrified he was about to get pinned.

But he always got out of it, and then you'd screamed in happiness—relief—as the other man finally fell. One more round—Scott against the other heavyweight fighter that had also beaten his opponent—and then the fighting as a whole would be over.

He would be able to leave—to go home. He was going to be just fine. Just one more round and it would be done.

One more.

There's a brief intermission, so you run out to grab Joe a couple more beers, and yourself a small bag of gummy bears.

Cyrus follows you out, pulling you over to the side once you've made your purchases.

You stare up at him with a pleasant smile, hoping he doesn't notice just how on-edge he makes you feel.

"Heard a lot about you," he says, eyes flitting between yours.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," he says, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

"Like what?" You ask, taking a tiny step closer.

He smirks. "Scott told me a few things I think I'd be interested in finding out for myself."

Hearing him mention Scott in this context makes your stomach twist. You just blink up at him.

He reaches up, running the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. "Like all the things this mouth can do. Just how wet you get without any effort, always ready to be fu-"

You hear the announcer come over the microphone, informing everyone that the match will begin in less than two minutes.

Cyrus drops his hand and you feel your heart hammering, but are glad this moment is now at an end.

You make your way silently past him, back to the row the both of you are seated in, and Travis reaches over, grabbing your hand, pulling you into his lap now.

You easily wrap an arm around his neck, preferring him to Joe, who's now on his way to getting drunk.

He slides a hand along your thigh, settling it there and softly smiling at you. "You look really good tonight, baby."

You turn toward him and smile in return, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Thank you."

You then reach into your bag of candy, holding a gummy bear up to his mouth. "Want one?"

He opens and you place it on his tongue and he chews.

You hear the bell ring just as you're gently brushing your thumb along the corner of his lips, his eyes staying trained on your own, and then Joe stands up so quickly from his chair that he nearly knocks the thing over as you hear him yell "beat his fuckin' ass, Scotty!"

You jerk your head back in the direction of the ring, just in time to see Scott punching his new opponent without mercy, like he's suddenly fighting in a black rage.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry before.

The man falls, and Scott gets on top of him, pounding away with his right fist, blood flying. You cover your mouth, worried he's about to kill him, until the referee pulls him off of him just in time, the bell dinging over and over again, signaling that it's over.

All you can think about is how...if the tables had been turned...

The referee holds up Scott's right fist, deeming him the winner of the match by knockout, and you stand, squealing, cheering.

He turns to you and you throw a probable rule that you're not allowed in the ring to the side as you climb up and jump into his arms, crushing your lips to his, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pouring every ounce of love that you have into the embrace.

You'd been right in Scott being awarded a belt, but it'd been just the least bit nicer than you'd previously expected. Gold and red and black details, a pair of fists holding a banner between them that state 'Hawkins Heavyweight Champion '84' as the design.

Scott leaves the arena with the rest of you with the belt slung over one shoulder, you holding tightly to his opposite arm, staring up at him, completely infatuated.

You were so glad he was okay. A black eye, and some swelling in the face, but other than that he was just fine. Perfect.

Your whole world.

The four of you stand in the parking lot near Joe's truck—Cyrus having already left, due to needing to be at work soon for a late shift—talking and drinking and joking. Scott gets numerous congrats from passer-bys, while you cling to his right hand, holding ice to it as you just stare and stare, in disbelief that this man—he—is all yours.

You're so enamored that you hardly notice that he barely bothers looking at you in return; speaking to you.

Nor do you see the glare he eventually gives Travis.

Joe glances to you with a smirk and you decide you don't like the look on his face, your stomach twisting. "What'd'ya say the three of us get outta here and go have ourselves some fun?"

You blanch. He'd had far too much to drink tonight. Did he want Scott to put him on a stretcher next?

You lean back against the truck, staring up at Scott, waiting for him to shoot Joe's offer down promptly, but he just stares back at you.

Your brows furrow for only a moment. Why wasn't he...

You look down then, shrugging. "I'm not really in the mood right now."

Scott scoffs and your head shoots up. "Guarantee that's bullshit. Maybe I should check."

He shoves his free hand down the front of your shorts, plunging two fingers between your folds and you gasp in shock, wrenching his hand out and he just laughs at you.

He laughs.

He turns to Joe. "Oh, she's definitely in the fuckin' mood, man."

Your eyes sting. Maybe...maybe it was the adrenaline from the fight. Testosterone could make men act...different. Right?

They both turn back to you and Joe leans in toward you, resting an arm atop the side of the truck's bed. "His place or mine, honey?"

You look to Scott again. He can't...he can't be serious. He's never done this before—shared you with another man. When you had sex, it was just the two of you. No one else got to be involved in such intimate moments.

"Isn't your wife home?" You ask, barely turning to look at him.

"Mine it is, then," Scott replies.

Joe chuckles, looking at you. "You ridin' with him or me, then?"

You don't reply before heading in the direction of Scott's truck. You needed to talk to him. This wasn't happening. It...it couldn't.

Not this. Please, not this.

Once you're both inside the cab and the engine roars to life, you turn to him. "What...what're you doing? We-"

"Heading to my place to have a threesome, or were you not payin' attention?"

He looks behind the both of you as he backs out of the lot.

Your eyes sting again. "We don't do that. When we're together, it's just us. Please. Please don't. I don't want-"

He peels out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of his trailer. "You want to ruin a good night? Think I deserve a reward after the fight. You about to tell the both of us no?"

He barely glances to you before looking toward the road again.

Your chin wobbles. "Why're you acting like this all of a sudden? I thought you were happy? I don't understand. I...I don't want to. Please, Scott. Just...tell him you changed your mind. You're tired or don't feel well, or-"

"Feel just fuckin' fine. Great, actually. But you keep runnin' your mouth and you'll just ruin it."

Your lip trembles. "I...I love you."

He stays silent.

"I don't want to. Please, Scotty, I love you. We can, if you want. Just...not with him. I'll do whatever you want-"

"Then you'll do this."

"But-"

"Stop fuckin' whinin', Jesus."

A tear slips down your cheek. He's never acted like before. Never. Had...did he have a concussion?

"Are you sure you feel okay? You don't seem like yourself."

"Never been more clear," he spits back at you. "Sorry Trav' couldn't tag along. I'm sure you'd be jumpin' for fuckin' joy if he was to be the third instead."

Your brows furrow. "What? What're you talking about?"

"I saw you. Both of you. Siting in his lap. Just...fuckin' staring at each other. Guess you need a reminder of who you belong to."

Your bowels turn to water. "That was nothing. That's all I did was sit in his lap for a minute or two. I...I had been sitting on Joe's all night. You didn't seem to have a problem with that?"

He shakes his head. "Joe's a different case and you know it."

What was happening right now?

"Scott, I told you: I love you. Only you. Please, don't punish me like this for...for sitting on his lap. I haven't done anything-"

He pulls up outside his trailer, Joe already having parked, waiting on the porch with a smug look.

Scott exits the cab, coming around to your side and opening your door.

"Please, Scott, I don't want to. Please, I'm begging-"

He grabs your upper arm, squeezing so hard that it hurts and he pulls you from the cab, causing you to stumble before he grabs you again. "You forget who's fucking in-charge around here? You do as you're told. And you're about to."

Joe grunts from between your legs, hands sliding up your thighs, Scott's cock buried in your mouth as you suck silently, praying it'll all be over soon.

It feels like you're watching yourself from afar as you let them have at it, doing as they wish. Whatever will please them.

What you want doesn't matter.

Maybe it never did.

Joe chuckles as Scott grips the back of your head, forcing himself deeper and you gag, unable to breathe. He moans, bucking his hips.

Joe slaps your clit, then circling it with his thumb and your body jerks, betraying you.

He looks to Scott, grinning. "Sure did teach her how to suck fuckin' cock, though, didn't I?"

Scott pulls out for just a moment, leaving you gasping for breath before he shoves himself back in. "Damn straight."

"Fuckin' fourteen was the first time I had her on 'er knees. Gotta start 'em young," he says and they both laugh.

You feel sick.

How could he do this to you? Punish you like this for simply sitting on Travis' lap? Did you really deserve this?

You think him beating you within an inch of your life like he had his opponent to be a kinder punishment.

Scott pulls his cock out, slapping it against your face, humiliating you. "Open up, sweetheart. I got somethin' to keep that mouth quiet."

Using his name for you...like that... How could he?

You do as you're told. Like always. And you open.

Joe rams himself between your legs, making you gag against Scott, whimpering in pain. And he does it again, his skin slapping against yours.

"Who's daddy's good little slut? That you, honey?"

Scott looks down at you, smirking. "Think her mouth's too full to answer right now. Ain't that right, sweetheart?"

It feels like another kick to the stomach.

He pulls his cock out, stroking it as he positions his testicles over your mouth. "Think the family jewels need some attention. Why don't you polish 'em up for me?"

You gently take one into your mouth—causing his cock to twitch—and then the other. You gently lick, and suck, before Scott eases back in, grabbing the hair at the back of your head painfully. "Take it. All of it."

Tears sting your eyes as you struggle to breathe once again. You stare up at Scott, desperate for him to make it stop, but he won't even look at you.

This is what you've always been to him, isn't it? A thing. A possession. A toy.

Not a human being. Not a girl in love. Not a young woman, desperate for a different life.

You were going to die in this town. You could see it now so clearly. A horrible truth that had always been there, just waiting for you to see it.

Joe begins to moan and he breaks his condom, finishing all over your stomach, then laughing. "Woo! That's some damn fine fuckin' pussy, ain't it, Scotty? Trained just how we like it."

Scotty slips himself out of your mouth. "Guess it's my turn now."

They trade places, Joe tossing his used condom to the side as he plunges himself into your mouth, Scotty slipping himself into your cunt and you finally go away somewhere else in your mind, unable to take anymore as you feel your heart shatter.

He never loved you.

Never.

This fact...discovering it—it's the last straw. The only thing you had left to hold onto to keep you going was now gone. Forever.

You find yourself underwater, in the pond by the house, staring up at the sun from under gentle ripples of blue and green, flowers floating on the surface, even your dolls bob around you. Everything is muffled and quiet.

No more pain. No more sadness. No more anything.

You open, breathing the water in, letting it fill your lungs. One mouthful, then another and another.

At least you can choose this much; your death. How you leave this world to find another of kindness and gentility.

No one can ever touch or hurt or use you again.

You're free.

Or, at least, you will be.

You retch on the side of the road, your head now feeling fuzzy and your senses unfocused. You've never felt so distant from your own body before. You feel about a mile away, watching yourself slowly break.

This would be the last one. The last night.

You saw it now. Him. For what he is. For what so many others had told you he was. What's he's been all along.

Why hadn't you listened again?

Oh, right, love. That.

It doesn't exist anyway. At least you know that now. It'll make letting go easier.

You take in a slow breath, eyes burning, a sore feeling between your legs. Scott had done it again. He hadn't used a condom.

You and your baby would die together.

You stumble, clutching onto a tree, staring up at the silver moon in the sky, wondering if it sees you. Cares.

Perhaps that's where you'll go when you take that last breath and blink and swallow—into the stars.

At least you won't be alone there.

You hear tires slowly rolling along asphalt and you squint against the headlights blinding your vision, until the driver switches them off and you see that it's a cruiser.

Travis. He...could he help you?

Save me, please. Oh, God, help me.

It's put into park, the driver exiting.

Cyrus.

He smirks, taking you in. "You lost, hon'?"

You merely stare at him, realizing: no one is coming.

He shuts his door, heading around to you.

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. Maybe you're going to be sick again.

He tips your head back, looking down at you. "Been thinking about you all night."

You don't reply.

He raises a brow. "Hard to get, hm? That's alright, I can work with that." He glances around. This stretch of road doesn't receive much traffic this late at night. Meaning you'll have privacy.

He looks back to you. "How about you finally give me a taste? Heard a lot about it. Maybe I'll finally see for myself what all the fuss is about."

He pulls you in the direction of his cruiser, then pushes you face-first down against the hood. You don't bother trying to fight back. Not anymore.

You rest your cheek against the warm metal, closing your eyes.

You hear a belt being thrown onto the hood next to you, then another being unclasped, a zipper being pulled down.

Next, your shorts are tugged down your hips, your legs—you'd lost your underwear somewhere. You couldn't remember where now.

And then he pushes inside of you, pressing a palm against the side of your head, the other gripping your hip painfully as your toes lift off the ground.

All is silent tonight, minus the sounds of frogs and crickets and his grunting behind you.

You barely even feel it anymore. Notice. They're all the same. All men. It's like they're one homogenous being that seek, hunt, thirst for, and eventually take one thing.

Take, because it's not nearly as good when it is freely—willingly offered. They hunt their prey, striking a killing blow between its legs.

Maybe it's what they survive off of—sex. No.

Fear.

He grips both your hips then, driving into you from behind, bucking wildly. You wince in pain, silent tears slipping from your tired eyes.

And then he finishes, crying out loudly, twitching between your walls, his hot cum leaking out of you.

Twice now. It had happened twice.

He stumbles back, pulling his pants back up, situating himself.

You lie there for a moment and then you realize you're supposed to move. Supposed to be doing something.

You stand straight then, and watch from a distance as you pull your shorts back up, even as he continues to run down your leg.

You don't look at him when he speaks, saying something about 'seeing what they're all so fuckin' crazy for now' and 'sorry, but I don't do rubbers, hon', he throws in that he 'hopes you're on something'.

You strip down naked once you reach the house, numbly walking outside, off of the porch and toward the pond, ready to make it stop.

You've nearly reached the edge, you can hear the water lapping, can feel something waiting for you, and then you feel a hand wrap around your wrist.

Not again.

Please.

Not again.

Not here.

You stare up blankly at a familiar face. Pretty. Curls. Long lashes.

He's speaking to you, but you don't hear him. You know what he wants. There's no use in fighting. You'll just give it to him. And then he'll let you go.

You reach toward his belt, quickly undoing it, cupping his penis over his jeans.

He backs away from you then and your senses clear, even minimally.

"What're you doing?"

You blink at him, your face blank. "It's ok. I can do it one more time."

You take a step toward him and his brows furrow. "What-"

"I know this is what you want. I see how you look at me. We should just do it." Another step. "I'm really good at it, too. Giving blowjobs. Gave my first one at fourteen. You don't have to use a condom."

"Stop."

"Do you want to know what I did tonight? Maybe it'll turn you on. A threesome. They said I was good. And then he fucked me on the hood of his cruiser. Three in one night is a new record for me. Maybe we can make it four."

The look on his face is that of horrification. What had they done to you?

You reach for his zipper, ready to get on your knees, or on your back, your stomach.

Whatever he wants.

Doesn't matter if you do.

And then he cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching desperately to find you still in there.

"Fuck me," you whisper.

His throat bobs. "This isn't you. This isn't my girl."

Your lip twitches. "C'mon, there's a mattress inside. We can-"

He shakes his head. "No. This isn't you. Come back to me."

You try to press your naked body to his. He'll like that.

He continues looking at you, refusing to avert his eyes. He won't look away from it—from you. He refuses. He won't let you carry this alone. Won't leave you. Because, if he does, he'll return to you lying dead in a watery grave.

"This is the you they want. Not me. I know the real you. I want her back."

You stare at him in silence.

And then you break, your face crumpling.

"It was...so horrible," you choke out through sobs.

He quickly shrugs off his jacket, wrapping it around your naked form, then holding you to him.

"I didn't want to!" You scream against his chest.

He cups the back of your head, your body trembling so hard it's shaking his own. God, what had they done to you?

You clutch yourself to him, terrified that if you let go, you'll be swallowed whole by the black hole that now surrounds you. Or, perhaps, you are it.

A gaping void of nothing.

Billy reaches down, picking you up bridal-style, carrying you back to his car.

"I'm taking you some place safe."

Doesn't he know?

Nowhere is safe. Not anymore.

Hot water beats down on you from above and you watch as a stream of blood flows down the drain from between your legs. It's not your period.

You shut your eyes, resting your cheek atop your bent knees, wrapping your arms more tightly around them, making yourself as small as possible.

Maybe you'd been asking for it. Look at the way you'd dressed tonight; acted. Giggling and touching them, letting them touch you. Just like they always do.

They didn't know any better, because this—rather, that—was all they've ever known. At least with you, that is.

You wonder if they're thinking about it right now with a feeling of guilt. If they feel as empty as you do. Completely hopeless.

What do you have that's worth going on for now? How, in a few hours, had your entire world fell out from under your feet?

And you just kept falling.

Your chin wobbles, and you squeeze your eyes shut more tightly.

Not all men.

That's what they say, isn't it? When it's implied that all any of them think about is sex.

You want to believe Billy is different. He could've so easily done anything he wanted to you just an hour ago. Instead, he'd not even been hard from the naked sight of you. He'd looked into your eyes, not at your body. Had spoken to your soul, not your ears.

He saw you. And he hadn't turned away at the hideous, broken sight.

Was life worth giving one last try, then?

For what, though? You'd trusted Scott. Had worshiped him. And then he had betrayed you.

Judas.

You resolve in the moment, knowing: he'll pay.

You'll have to use and hurt another to do it, but that's fine. Because he deserves it, too. They all do.

You'd merely become a product of their own creation. Now, you would finally come to life.

You stir the chicken and broccoli Billy had made you for dinner idly around your plate while he sits across from you, watching.

"Do you want me to make you something else?" He asks softly.

You look at him, having forgotten he was even there, lost in your own mind. You look around the kitchen for a moment, then back to him. "This is your house."

He's wondering if he shouldn't take you to a hospital.

"Yes."

You gently grip the t-shirt he'd given you to wear for tonight, then run your hand along the soft sweatpants that were too big for you that were also his. "It's nice."

You take a very, very small bite of your food, chewing for a long time before swallowing.

"Thank you," he replies quietly. "It still needs a lot of work, but I'm doing what I can."

He doesn't give a shit about the house right now, but if he can get you to talk at all—he doesn't give a damn what the conversation is about.

You nod, taking another bite.

He wants to ask you to tell him what happened tonight exactly, but knows it'll ruin what little appetite you seem to have just found. So he holds off, watching as you take a sip of water.

"You can take my bed tonight to sleep in." He says with a small smile, reassuring you that it's okay; he won't be joining you.

You look at him, surprised. He...isn't going to send you back there? You aren't sure it was ever a home for you.

"Where will you-"

He jerks his head toward the living room behind him, off of the kitchen. "I have a pullout couch."

"Then I should-"

He shakes his head. "It's okay, really." His lip twitches. "The truth is, sometimes I sleep on it just so I can stay up watching TV."

Lie. The only time he watches TV is when he's eating dinner in there. And even that was only occasionally.

You nod. "Oh."

You eat the rest of your meal in silence.

You toss and turn in Billy's bed—he'd even put clean sheets on it while you'd washed your dishes; you'd insisted on doing at least that much, even if he'd told you he would get to them once you were in bed for the night—for nearly half-an-hour before you finally relent, knowing you'll never fall asleep like this. Alone.

You don't want to close your eyes.

You quietly pad toward the direction of the living room, hoping Billy is still awake. You assume so, since the TV is casting colors of blue and green and red across the walls. You're in luck when you see him leaned back against the cushions, remote in-hand, his other arm resting atop his head, which he lowers to his side when he sees you.

He should've kept a shirt on. What if seeing him even half-undressed made you uncomfortable?

He fears are quickly assuaged.

"Can...can I sleep with you? I'm..." Tears sting your eyes. "I'm scared."

His face falls, his heart breaking on your behalf. "Of course you can."

He pulls back the covers and you step closer, glancing to him and he gives you a kind smile, reassuring you that it's okay—he won't touch you—and you crawl in next to him.

You're the one who touches him then, curling against his side, desperate to be held by someone safe.

He wraps an arm around you, then his other. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

You nod. And then hot tears begin to fall.

You press your face into his chest, crying quietly and his hand comes up, fingertips rubbing the back of your head.

"You're safe now. It's okay. You can feel whatever you need to feel. Cry, scream. Whatever you need. I'm here."

You whimper, curling your body against his.

"Will...will you tell me what happened? Everything seemed fine during, until that guy lost it. Scott?"

You sniffle, raising your head, curling your fingers around the blanket settled overtop the both of you. "He...he saw me sitting in Travis' lap. He got...so angry. After, in the parking lot, Joe..." You grow quiet again for a moment, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat so you can continue.

You take a deep breath, calming yourself. "He suggested a threesome. I looked to Scott to tell him no. He...didn't. I begged him not to. That I didn't want to. He did it to punish me. Said I needed to remember my place. So they did it. Scott didn't use a condom."

You sob quietly. "I left and then Cyrus—one of the cops—found me. He bent me over the hood of his car. I just let him. I didn't want to fight anymore. Not that I ever do. I let it happen. He didn't use anything, either."

He fights down his rage. He doesn't want you to see him angry. Not for a moment. You'd leave, and then God only knows what would happen to you next.

"What were you about to do when I found you?"

You press your forehead against his shoulder, crying. "I wanted to end it."

He doesn't need you to elaborate as to what 'it' is supposed to mean.

You continue. "I wanted to make it stop. It hurts. I hurt. I don't know if I can...take anymore. I thought he cared. About me. I was so stupid. So stupid."

You cry harder then, remembering. You don't want to remember. Don't want to feel their hands on you—their...body parts inside of your own. You hate him now. Well and truly.

There would be no forgiveness for this. He had finally gone too far.

All because you sat on a man's lap that he dislikes. The punishment didn't fit the crime. Not that it should even be considered that. You had done nothing wrong. Right...?

Billy pulls you closer. "I'm so sorry, angel. You need to understand that it wasn't your fault. It never has been. Nothing you've done warranted any of this. They were the ones that knew better; were supposed to do better by you. You didn't deserve it."

He pulls back, cupping your cheek, looking at you. "Do you understand?"

You shrug, lip trembling. "I'm a worthless whore. I'm so disgusting. Unclean."

He shakes his head, pressing his forehead to your own. "You are anything but. You are so bright and kind and full of life and hope and warmth. You're a dreamer. Don't let go of that. Don't let them win. Because, if you do, their lives go on, while you've chosen to cut your own short for people that just do not matter.

"You're so young. And you have everything ahead of you. Maybe it's hard to see that now. It was for me, too. I get it. I was in a dark place for a time. A really long fucking time, and I couldn't see a way out. I never thought I'd have a home of my own, or a halfway-decent job."

He pulls back, brushing tears away from your cheeks. "Or that I'd find you. But I did. So, stay. If not for me, then for you. Just...lean on me. I can handle it. Can shoulder it. Whatever the fuck you need, give it to me and I'll carry it instead."

You burst into tears then, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face in it.

And he just holds you, telling you that you're safe now. Over and over again.

The house is quiet, the living room dark, apart from a lamp in the hallway casting a soft orange glow. You'd asked Billy to turn a nightlight on. You were afraid of the dark now. At least for tonight.

He'd not mocked you for it. Hadn't rolled his eyes or complained. He'd simply asked which one you would like best and you'd chosen one with blue flowers painted on the glass shade.

You roll onto your side, your hand resting atop his warm bicep. "Are you awake?" You whisper.

"I am."

You're quiet for a moment, then you whisper. "You saved my life."

His eyes sting from unshed tears. "Just...promise me that if you ever think about that again, you'll come to me first. Or call. In the morning, I can give you my home and work phones. I don't care what time it is, or what day. If you need me, I will be there."

No one had ever been so reliable for you before. Or kind. No one.

"Thank you."

He rests a hand atop yours, curling his fingers around it; you can feel the warm metal of his ring.

"I can't stop thinking about it," your voice begins to raise. You don't want to cry again. You're so exhausted.

He turns on his side, resting a palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter closed.

"Tell me about the house. What you would do if you had unlimited funds; an army of workers."

You reach out, pressing your fingertips against the soft skin of his chest, smiling, your eyes opening. "Cut the grass, for one."

He chuckles.

"Maybe plant some more trees. Lemon and cherry and pear. And I would put flowers and bushes all around the house, which would have a big wrap-around porch. And planter boxes on the windows, once they've been replaced, of course. And maybe have the windmill repainted; the rusted parts replaced. Some bird feeders hanging along the porch, a bird bath in the front yard."

You hum, thinking. "The porch would have sitting areas throughout, and swings in the front and back, maybe one on the side. Lanterns for at night. And on the inside, I would have the wood floors polished and re-stained, the chimney cleaned out and a small pile of wood for cool evenings kept near it.

"I would tear down all the wallpaper and repaint all the walls white and blue and cream instead. New furniture. The only thing that would stay would be my nesting dolls."

He grins.

"Oh, and the outside shutters would be blue, too. The house would be painted white. So, that way, it would match inside and out. And the kitchen would have marble countertops and backsplash. And a rack for pots and pans would hang from the ceiling."

He doesn't see it, but you're gesturing with your hands as you paint him a picture of your dream home.

"And lots of little spice jars on a rack, and I would grow herbs in pots on the windowsill. And there would be sugar, and flour, and tea, and coffee..." You trail off.

"The dining room would have a nice new table, and chairs. Maybe even a tea-set. China. Fine China. And a hutch cabinet full of pretty dishes. And the stairs and banisters would have to be re-done. For the bathroom upstairs, I think I would keep the tub, so long as it can be restored. Everything else can be replaced with white porcelain. And a medicine cabinet for storage could be mounted above the floating sink."

You consider what you would do with the room all the furniture had been stored in, then smile. "The next room would be my own personal library. Every wall would be lined with ceiling-high bookshelves. And there would be rugs and plants and a rocking chair in front of the window. Maybe I'd get a cat."

He smiles at that, pulling you closer.

"The master bedroom would have a big, fluffy king-size bed with a canopy, and I'd have a nice dresser with a big mirror atop it. Matching bedside tables with Victorian lamps atop them. And there would be a balcony off of the room, with chairs on it for sitting in the evenings. Glass doors, and gossamer curtains hanging on the inside."

You grow quiet when you consider the final room.

"And the last one?" He asks.

You know what the first idea that pops into your mind is. Even if that'll never be you; if you'll never have that. Not that you should.

You're the last woman on Earth who should ever consider such a thing. But this moment is for dreaming. About the life you want, even if it's one you know you'll never have.

"A crib. And a mobile. Toys and stuffed animals and soft lights and soft things. And if it was a girl, no man would ever touch her except her father. So long as he was a good man. If not, I have a large yard and a shovel. And no one will ever find him. Ever."

He doesn't smile or laugh. Nor do you.

"That sounds like a beautiful dream," he says, fingers curling around your side.

You wrap your hands around his arm, slowly closing your eyes. "It is. Maybe...I'll find someone to share it with one day."

He closes his as well. "Maybe you already have," he replies softly.

You fall asleep with a smile upon your lips, and warmth in your heart.

A feeling of safety wrapped around you. A feeling...which has a name.

Billy.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

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dreamwritesimagines · 29 days

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [33] - Ex Boyfriends

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Making deals with ex boyfriends can cause tension.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

The one thing about this business was that even though everyone pretended to trust each other, no one actually trusted each other.

It didn’t matter how many alliances were there or how many deals were made, the war could start at any moment with any attack, and you had to make sure it wouldn’t.

This deal with Rhett was going to ensure you to climb to the top and to keep the city safe from your cousin at the same time.

As you left the elevator to make your way to Bucky’s office, you could see his assistant by the door but as soon as she stood up, you waved a hand in the air.

“Please,” you said with a smile. “I’ll just get him and get out.”

“My wife will not be put in a situation where she might be in danger!” Bucky’s voice reached outside as you grabbed the door handle. “We don’t know if we can even trust the guy—”

He stopped talking when you opened the door and stepped inside, and he cleared his throat, tightening his grip around the phone he was holding to his ear.

“I’ll call you back,” he said curtly and hung up, making you tilt your head.

“Hey,” you said. “Who was it?”

“Stark,” he muttered. “He has this idea…never mind.”

“That it’d be better for me to meet Rhett?”

Bucky scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. That’s not gonna happen.”

“You do realize that I wouldn’t be in danger though?”

“Not risking it.”

“Why not?”

He blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Why not?” you asked again with a small smile. “I don’t recall you having that problem with your other business partners.”

He stared at you for a moment, then scoffed and made himself busy with his phone.

“No?” you insisted, still smirking. “Nothing to say?”

“Nope,” he said, making you groan.

“Bucky, I feel like we should talk about this.”

“Not at all. So, this asshole—”

“Rhett,” you corrected him and he clicked his tongue.

“Rhett,” he repeated. “Anything else I should know about him? Other than the fact that he’s your ex?”

You had your whole attention on your book so much that you didn’t even realize someone had approached your table until they pulled a chair. Your head shot up but a frown pinched your brows as soon as your eyes fell on Lucas.

“The fuck do you want?”

Lucas smiled slightly and held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Hello to you too,” he said as you looked around the library before turning to glare at him.

“Rhett sent you?”

“Nope,” he said, still smiling. “I just wanted to see whether you’re okay, you know? After your breakup.”

You arched a brow.

“Right,” you said. “I’m fine, you can go now.”

“So who dumped who?” he asked. “He’s been bringing a different girl to his place every night and is in a terrible mood lately, gotta be you huh? What did he do, cheat on you?”

You scoffed. “Why are you acting as if we’re friends?”

“Maybe I want to be friends with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why?”

“I think we can be very beneficial to each other,” he said. “Especially if he broke your heart.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back in your seat.

“The last I heard, New York still wants to do business with Chicago,” he said. “Rhett’s father isn’t interested, and Rhett will definitely follow his footsteps when he takes over. But…there are people in Chicago who can be more open to a deal with New York.”

Oh.

Alright, this was interesting.

“Your father would be quite impressed if you made a deal with Chicago, wouldn’t he?” he asked. “Two birds one stone. You take your revenge, and your father gets a deal.”

Fucking traitor.

“Sounds like the perfect plan,” you mused. “Hypothetically speaking, having the new king in my debt when I go back to New York....”

“I agree.”

“Too bad I can’t trust you,” you said. “How do I know you’ll make the deal after he’s gone?”

He chuckled and took out his phone, then put it on the desk and pushed it in your direction. You grabbed it, your eyes scanning the lines on the screen, then let out a breath.

“You already have a draft?”

“I’m nothing if not planned.”

You scrolled down on the file, then handed him his phone back.

“What do I need to do?”

“Get back together with him,” he said. “Make him feel safe and all that bullshit, and then make sure he’s in the location I’ll send you when it’s time.”

You nodded your head, pretending to be in deep thought. “And then guns go off.”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get intimidated by that.”

“I’m not,” you said without hesitation. “But I want your word that once you get that crown, you won’t double cross me.”

“You have my word,” he said. “I assure you, you help me with this and I’ll help out your father.”

You bit inside your cheek, then held your hand out.

“Fine then,” you said. “Pleasure doing business with you, Lucas.”

Rhett’s men were rather surprised to see you, and two of the bodyguards by his door exchanged glances before turning to you.

“Ma’am?”

“Hi.” You smiled at them. “Tell him I’m here please.”

One of them nodded before opening the door to step inside, and you leaned back on the wall, inspecting your fingernails until he stepped out again.

“You can go in, ma’am.”

You thanked him and walked past him into the apartment, Rhett standing in the hallway with his shirt halfway done, his curls messier than usual with a confused look on his face, but before he could say anything, the sound of heels reached you and you both turned to look at the girl who was glaring daggers at you.

“What is she doing here?” she asked, making you smirk and Rhett cleared his throat.

“Alice, could you give us a moment?”

She looked like she would say no but then scoffed and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. You let out a small laugh.

“Didn’t lose any time huh?”

“You were the one who dumped me, in case it has escaped your notice,” Rhett deadpanned and eyed you up and down. “So what the fuck is this? You don’t return my calls but decided to show up?”

You threw your head back before walking to the living room with Rhett following you. The whiskey bottle on the small table caught your eye and you made your way to it to fill a glass, then turned to him and sipped your drink.

“Stop pretending like this would go anywhere if I didn’t break up with you,” you said and deepened your voice to mimic him; “Chicago rules are different—”

“Oh because you’d stay in Chicago,” he said with a dry laugh. “You and I both know you want to rule New York.”

“Rich, coming from the prince of Chicago.”

“Did you seriously come here to fight?”

“No,” you said after a beat, then licked your lips and put your whiskey glass down. “I’m here to save your life, you idiot.”

“That he doesn’t trust anyone outside Chicago,” you said, and he hummed.

“Except you.”

“Except me,” you said. “Are you seriously not going to talk about this?”

“If he flirts with you, I’m shooting him.”

You raised your brows. “That sounds like a very healthy approach to a partnership.”

“We’re not partners, we’re married.”

“That’s not what— I mean him and us, Bucky,” you said. “We’re trying to be business partners with him, in case it has escaped your notice.”

He blinked a couple of times. “Right.”

“And if you’re going to be like this, I can meet Rhett alone,” you said, making him shake his head. “I mean you have meetings anyway—”

“I’m coming with,” he cut you off and stood up, checking his wristwatch. “Let’s go.”

You threw your head back but followed him out of the office, stomping on your feet all the way to the elevator.

Rhett’s private jet hadn’t still landed when you got there, which was good news for you because that gave you some alone time with Bucky. Even if you played it cool, not talking to him for the last two weeks had been making you so anxious that you could barely focus on anything else. You sat on the hood of the car, drumming your fingernails on your knee while he typed something on his phone, leaning back to the car.

“Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“Rhett can be a bit…uh—” you paused for a moment to think. “He can be a bit arrogant.”

He turned to look at you better, raising his brows.

“He’s kind of like you on that,” you pointed out, making him frown.

“I’m not arrogant.”

You gawked at him.

“…Have you met yourself?”

“I’m not!”

“I’ll share that with the therapist on our next appointment,” you said. “Anyways, Rhett being arrogant, just keep in mind that we’re trying to make a deal with Chicago.”

“You’re trying to make a deal with Chicago,” he corrected you. “I’m just here to get you into meetings, apparently.”

You ran a hand over your face. “You know it as well as I do that it’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked with a dry laugh and you looked up at the sky as a jet appeared, making you cover your ears and grimace at the loud noise. Soon enough it landed and people started rushing around as you lowered your hands, jumping on your feet.

“He might try to provoke you so don’t let it happen.”

“To repeat, I’ll shoot him if he does.”

You shot him a glare but turned your head when you noticed the movement by the jet. The door opened and Rhett stepped outside, then ran a hand through his curls before descending the stairs, making you suppress a smile.

Rhett had always been very attractive, but now that he was the king of Chicago, he looked somehow calmer. That chaotic, restless energy back when he was the prince seemed to be replaced by complete and utter confidence as he made his way to you, a smile curling his lips.

“Wow,” he said when he reached you. “I didn’t know you could get prettier, but here we are.”

You let out a giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him.

“Hi Rhett.”

“Hi cupcake,” he said softly, squeezing at your upper arm as you pulled back to look up at him. “How have you been?”

Bucky cleared his throat loudly and you looked over your shoulder, then stepped back to entwine your fingers with his, plastering a lovesick smile on your face.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” you said. “Bucky, this is Rhett. Rhett, this is Bucky.”

Rhett held out his hand and Bucky shook it, nodding at him.

“Bucky Barnes,” Rhett said. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Good things or bad things?”

“Mixed reviews,” Rhett said, making you squeeze at Bucky’s hand but he completely ignored you.

“Makes one of us I guess,” he stated and you faked a cough.

“So uh…I’m guessing you’d like to rest a bit?” you asked Rhett and he gave you a serene smile, his gaze falling on your hand holding Bucky’s before shooting up to your face again. “Your driver will take you to your hotel, and once you’ve rested you can call me.”

“Will you give me a tour?”

“Can’t have you return to Chicago and tell your father New York was anything but nice to you,” you told him, making him let out a laugh.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I’ll talk to you then.”

“Sounds good.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky,” he said and Bucky gave him a dry smile.

“Likewise,” he said and Rhett walked to the car, the driver opening the door for him so that he could get in. You turned to Bucky as Rhett’s car drove off, and he bit inside his cheek.

“I don’t trust him,” he stated, drawing a scoff out of you.

“You don’t say?”

“He’s up to something.”

“He is just here for the deal.”

“Does he know you’re not a part of the deal?”

You held up your hand so that he could see your wedding ring. “I’d say so.”

“You know,” he motioned at the direction Rhett’s car had driven off, “Guys like him—”

“To repeat, why do you care?”

His blue eyes snapped to yours and he stared at you for a moment before clearing his throat, his brows pulling into a frown.

“We have a deal,” he brushed you off, making you tilt your head.

“Right,” you said, your heartbeat getting faster. “And that’s the only reason here?”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes locked in yours and he opened his mouth to retort but as if on cue, his phone started vibrating in his hand. You let out a breath, your cheeks burning as he touched the screen, then threw his shoulders back.

“I’m going back to the office,” he said. “I’ll drop you off, come on.”

“Nah I can go with them,” you pointed at your bodyguards leaning against the other car and Bucky blinked a couple of times.

“Why?”

“Obviously you don’t want to spend time with me, so I’d hate to force you.”

“That’s not—”

“I’ll see you at home I guess,” you cut him off, painfully aware of the petulant tone of your voice and you turned around to approach the other car, ignoring him calling out your name.

“Ma’am,” the bodyguard said, rushing to open the door for you and you smiled at him, then got in.

“Well,” you muttered to yourself. “If that’s not open communication, I don’t know what is.”

After going home and taking a shower, you decided to go outside just to get your mind off your issues with Bucky and to work more on the offer you would make to Rhett. Your whole attention was on your tablet as you went over the numbers, then clicked on the other file but your head shot up when someone pulled the chair across from yours and sat down. A smile you couldn’t stop curled your lips as you tilted your head.

“Do I want to know how you knew where I was?”

Rhett grinned at you. “Lucky guess.”

“Or people on your payroll.”

He hummed. “You’re telling me you don’t have people in Chicago?”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully and he raised his hand to motion at the waitress for a cup of coffee, then turned to you.

“So,” he said. “Mrs. Barnes.”

“I use my surname as well, there’s a dash between.”

He nodded his head, still smirking.

“All that talk about not dating people in the business,” he mused. “Here I thought I was special.”

You sipped your coffee. “Oh come on…”

“Hey, no judging,” he said, holding up his hands. “I get how it works in the business.”

“Oh it’s different with Bucky and me,” you said and he raised his brows.

“Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” you said, “And you?”

“Me?”

“I know how it works in the business,” you quoted him. “You’re the king of Chicago and you’re telling me people aren’t trying to fix a marriage for you? Uniting the families and stuff?”

He heaved a sigh. “Can’t escape it forever, as my father loves reminding me.”

“Who will it be?”

He thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee, then took the cup to his lips.

“Alice, I think.”

Your eyes widened and a laugh escaped from you.

“I mean she did lay down the groundwork,” you pointed out. “And herself in your bed, but…”

“Nothing happened while you and I were together.”

“Oh I know that,” you said with a laugh. “Doesn’t mean she wasn’t flirting with you.”

He bit back a smile, giving you a mischievous look.

“I specifically remember us having a couple of fights about her, now that you mention it.”

“Does she still hate me?”

“Probably,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “She said—oh, I heard your father officially named your cousin his heir.”

You bit inside your cheek. “He did.”

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” he asked, curiosity laced in his tone and you scrunched up your nose.

“New York has truce,” you said after a pause. “Between families. Killing an heir is breaking the truce, not to mention this war with HYDRA... It would just make everything more complicated.”

“But you will have to,” Rhett pointed out. “This business is medieval, you know how it goes.”

You turned your cup in its saucer. “Mm hm.”

“And Bucky?” he asked. “You trust that he will help you get the crown?”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip, deep in thought.

“I’d trust Bucky with my life,” you said, making him raise his brows, a look of surprise crossing his handsome face.

“You, trusting someone in the business…” he muttered. “You have changed, cupcake.”

You felt a smile warm your face, and heaved a sigh before you leaned back.

“Maybe,” you said. “Finish your coffee, will you? I’ll give you a tour of our territory.”

Chapter 34

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