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#its just that i want to respond to Most with scribbles

moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.

But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense

no stress if this isn't your jam <3

Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words

“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”

Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.”

Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.”

You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh.

Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap.

“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder.

“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?”

You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.”

Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?”

“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.”

“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.”

Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval.

“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.”

You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.”

“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly.

You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw.

He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?”

“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him.

“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”

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feyhunter78 · 2 months

Note

I just found your page and I totally didn’t read all of your Miguel O’Hara fics. One I love how you write kissing you caught that spark off a kiss with someone you love in a way most books don’t get right.

I can’t sit here and sing your praise all day but I do have a question. Fully up to you and if it’s just a Drabble that ok but will you ever being writing something else for Side walk kisses? It’s so cute and I can see more moments with Miguel and Y/N just being silly cute mindless college students so helplessly in love. Fluff smut angst whatever you decide to Drabble in I will be fully ok with

(This is the first time I’ve done an ask so sorry I I seem a little over excited)

AHHH I love when I'm people's first asks, it always makes me feel so special!!! I thought I'd try my hand at a bit of angst for you anon!

Insecurities

You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Shouldn’t feel bad about yourself, shouldn’t be debating making up some excuse and dashing off to the humanities building to rid yourself of this pit in your stomach like a snake sheds its skin.

But that would require leaving Miguel alone with Xina, and you think you’d rather die than do that. So, you’re stuck in the courtyard right outside the library, holding onto Miguel’s bicep possessively as you struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation.

Now you wouldn’t say you’re an insecure person, sure you have your insecurities like everyone else, but they don’t plague your mind, or weigh heavily on you as you go about your day-to-day business. Right now, though? As you take in Xina, her long thick dark hair, her stunning almond eyes that sparkle with intelligence, the flawlessness of her skin, the way she so easily keeps up with Miguel as they discuss the intersection between genetics and robotics, you’re feeling pretty insecure.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, when making your calculations you have to factor in the deficiencies in the code, just as you have to factor in potential genetic flaws.” Xina says, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, excitement clear on her face.

“Of course, with genetics it’s harder to eradicate flaws than in code, but I could see it following a similar pattern.” Miguel responds, nodding at her words.

You’re so lost. If they wanted to discuss the intricacies of the English language or the way philosophers can so heavily affect the development of a nation’s culture you would be there, front row and ready, but science? Science is not your forte.

Xina laughs and smacks Miguel’s arm, pulling you out of your thoughts, Miguel is laughing too so you do the same which draws her attention to you.

“Oh, y/n, I’m so sorry, we’ve been so rude, what do you think?” She asks, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely curious, or just hates you.

You stumble for a moment, then say, “I agree with Miguel.”

She laughs again. “You think Charles Darwin would be a good computer programmer?”

Miguel joins in, and for the first time ever his laughter sounds sour to your ears.

“Oh, um, no, I just—”

Xina smiles sympathetically at you, but it feels a bit patronizing. “It’s okay, not everyone can keep up with us.”

Okay, maybe running and hiding was a good idea.

“Y/N is actually top of her sorority for GPA, she’s read more books than anyone else I know, and she helps me write all my lab reports.” Miguel jumps in.

“That’s so cute.” Xina coos, looking at you as if you were a kindergartener presenting her with a crayon scribbled drawing.

You give her a tight smile, then squeeze Miguel’s bicep. “Hey, I’m gonna head to class, but I’ll see you later?”

He nods, and lets you go, reabsorbed in his conversation with Xina.

You toy with the bracelet Miguel got you as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. It’s a pretty thing, a birthday present, simple and elegant, highlighting your birthstone, the words, mi dulce, engraved on the inside in a small, flowy script. It jingles pleasantly as you mess with it, and glints under the florescent lights.

“The professor isn’t here yet, right?” Kelsey slides into her desk next to you and starts unpacking her bag.

“No, he’s running a little late.” You say, absentmindedly shading one corner of the blank page in your notebook with your pencil.

“Okay, good because I have something kinda fucked up to show you.” She says, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for.

You lean towards her, the thought of gossip perking you up a bit.

“So, you know that Ava girl, the bitch who used to date your man?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.” You grumble, feeling that familiar gloom settle back over you.

“Okay well she’s been trying to get with this Kappa Sig, and you know how the brothers are like obsessed with me because my brother is their president and an absolute legend as they always remind me.”

“Yeah, it’s the reason we got into their parties freshman year.”

Kelsey’s brother was a decent guy, all things considered. Older than you two by a year or so, with the charisma of a cult leader but lacking the desire to start a cult. Throughly satisfied with his fraternity and the Fortune 500 company he’ll go on to work at once he graduates. He was nice enough, extending his protection to you and anyone else close to his sister while in the Kappa Sig house.

“So, one of them texted me about her trying to sleep her way through the frat, but then, my brother sent me this video. I gotta warn you, it’s not school appropriate.” She says as she slowly turns the screen towards you.

At first, you recoil. It’s Ava, half naked, and some guy, on a bed that looks vaguely familiar. The guy’s face is out of the frame, but he’s shirtless, his pants pushed down exposing his dick to the camera, Ava’s hand wrapped around it pumping furiously. “Um, what the fuck is this?”

“Just wait.” Kelsey says quietly, glancing around the room to make sure no one else is watching. They’re not, they’re too busy with their own phones or side conversations.

You half watch the video, feeling weird about watching, your idea of a good time isn’t watching your boyfriend’s psycho ex jack some guy off.

The guy finishes, his hips bucking and Ava saying something you can’t hear since Kelsey’s sound is off.

The camera shakes as Ava picks it up and shows off the face of the man. Dark hair, glazed brown eyes with hints of crimson, perfectly formed lips parted. You know that face, but you don’t want to accept it.

“Is that Miguel?” You’re horrified, sick to your stomach, head spinning, every unpleasant feeling and sensation you could feel erupting all at once.

You can see Ava go to grab his face, guide him lower, moving to take off her underwear, and you turn your head, unable to watch any longer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know when it was filmed, but Darren said he had one of the brothers send it to him yesterday then made all of them delete the video from their phones. He knows Miguel’s your boyfriend, said he was just looking out for you.” Kelsey puts away her phone and looks at you, eyes searching your face, before giving you a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry y/n, I can ask him to see if he can find out when it was filmed?”

You want to cry, you really, really want to cry. “It looks recent, that’s Miguel’s bed, I’ve been there, I’ve slept on that bed, I—I can’t think about this right now. Thank you for telling me, and tell your brother I said thanks too.”

Kelsey nods and squeezes you tighter before letting go and giving you a sad smile.

The professor finally shows up, and you throw yourself into your notetaking, graphite digging into the pristine white paper as you try to drown out the images in your head with the sound of your professor droning on.

Part 2 here!!!

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

#meg's writing #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #college!miguel #college!reader #college au #sorority!reader

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lewmagoo · 10 months

Text

million dollar man | rhett abbott

description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck

listen to the spotify playlist here!

warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3

It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths.

You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream.

And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life.

Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you.

While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life.

Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”

His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell.

“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad.

He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that.

“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander.

You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt.

You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess.

You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction.

But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you.

“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus.

You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”

He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.”

You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”

He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked.

You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”

Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”

You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding.

“Thank you,” you earnestly replied.

He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you.

“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you.

You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said.

“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind.

You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor.

Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise.

You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”

“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him.

“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!”

You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him.

He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me.

Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better.

Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up.

You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on.

You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts.

The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them,

You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape.

Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all.

Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak.

But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back.

There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse.

Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment.

And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it.

He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out.

He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom.

Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin.

But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes.

A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him.

“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact.

Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”

You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”

I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself.

Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”

He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do.

You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.

But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you.

He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display.

He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them.

The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing.

But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”

Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said.

He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race.

You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”

“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed.

You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”

Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”

That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”

That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them.

Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?

When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”

You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”

“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled.

You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”

He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties.

That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip.

After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that.

But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.

The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part.

You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy.

A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger.

He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered.

“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context.

“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you.

The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top.

Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you.

The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”

When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.

“Go outside,” he said to you.

“But-”

His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”

And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night.

Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed.

The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said.

Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”

Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy.

“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside.

He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you.

“Thanks for that,” you whispered.

“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”

You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”

“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”

Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house.

“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”

You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”

To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off.

His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued.

“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”

Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”

You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you.

So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him.

That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”

You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on.

“Well?” He asked.

“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”

And that’s how it all started.

He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance.

His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent.

When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication.

“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”

You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”

Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”

“But-”

“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”

“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”

“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”

You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would.

“Okay,” you relented.

“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”

Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.

Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision.

So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive.

He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne.

“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle.

“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side.

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items.

It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats.

And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy.

The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while.

You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives.

And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist.

There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror.

He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”

You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview.

During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town.

“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”

You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said.

“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”

You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”

“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”

Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you.

Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them.

“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”

Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”

“You never remarried?”

“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”

“Except for me,” you quietly murmured.

He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”

“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”

From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else?

You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet.

Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such.

Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it.

The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop.

“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”

Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined.

Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich.

You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.

An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home.

“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”

Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”

“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”

You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.

On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.

He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”

You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.

You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs.

There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.

“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.

He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”

Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.

However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.

Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime.

In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you.

Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.

He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.

As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you.

It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.

But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.

He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.

Money would never be a concern for you ever again.

But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life.

He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more.

You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.

He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”

He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.

After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.

But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people.

Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch.

The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm.

Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his.

You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event.

He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”

“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”

He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”

“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”

Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett.

But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off.

And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head.

He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly.

“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks.

And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one.

It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up.

Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you.

The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”

“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side.

You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background.

“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet.

This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did.

“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers.

“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen.

“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”

You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”

Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”

You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t.

“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing.

“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.”

Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him.

But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted.

When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.

As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.

Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”

Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”

“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.

Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”

He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across.

Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help.

“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.

Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”

You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly.

“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.”

“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”

In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”

“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them.

“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”

You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”

Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in.

Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true.

What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt.

When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time.

Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so.

A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”

You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.”

At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him.

“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”

And somehow, you knew he would.

His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought.

You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter.

Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring.

You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too.

It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be.

He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory.

With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment.

Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness.

Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.

That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow.

Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week.

Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day.

You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.

As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake.

But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness.

Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on.

You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it.

You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man.

“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.

You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.

“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed.

He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.”

He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.

He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”

You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”

“Exactly.”

He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”

You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”

You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest.

You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly.

You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air.

God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?

“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.

“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off.

He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.

You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.

“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed.

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple.

You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you.

“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”

He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”

He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute.

Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort.

“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”

He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”

He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.”

You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett.

You could get drunk off of his scent alone.

When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing.

But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting.

Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you.

Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going.

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction.

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”

He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”

Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.

Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside.

Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip.

You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears.

You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak.

And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around.

Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity.

“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you.

“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”

He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head.

“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”

At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”

Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”

Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”

He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”

You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm.

As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt.

The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you.

“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so.

“Love you too, baby.”

Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home.

Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory.

“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”

At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”

“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”

And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself.

But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help.

“C-can you take over, please?” You asked.

“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes.

“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so.

You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest.

He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass.

But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion.

“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light.

He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt.

In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm.

Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow.

“S’big, Daddy!”

“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm.

“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”

“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”

“No! Please!” You begged.

Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”

And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his.

Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out.

But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs.

This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you.

“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”

You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were.

And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit.

“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?”

All you could do was squeak in reply.

“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”

At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough.

Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity.

“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say.

“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.”

He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner.

“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”

But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.”

And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock.

You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky.

The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms.

It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover.

“I…wow,” was all you could say.

“That was intense, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes watery.

“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”

“I-I think I’m…okay.”

But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”

“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”

He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again.

And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove. Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing.

Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock.

He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration.

He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything.

He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm.

“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”

“Please,” came your whisper.

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”

With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released.

Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy.

Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you.

“Daddy!”

“Go ahead.”

This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it.

“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out.

Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release.

Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space.

“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”

You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more.

And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it.

He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer.

“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”

You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him.

“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”

“W-want you close,” you whispered.

“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”

He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you.

“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house.

It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled.

He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being.

A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased.

You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”

It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”

“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”

You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace.

You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it.

Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most.

You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here.

Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world.

tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)

@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott x you

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hazbin-hotlee37 · 1 month

Text

Need more Lee!Adam...

SO I MADE MY OWN!

Lee!Adam, Ler!Lute

A reason to smile!

Adam was in his office, reading through paper work that Sera wanted him to do. Some people wouldn't believe that Adam was even capable of being kind, but he had genuine respect for Sera. She was like the mom he never had.

While the first man could be considered a slacker by most but, there were times when he worked himself way too hard. Lute could tell now was one of those times.

Neither had their mask on, which just showed Adams eyebags and tired appearance. Several golden feathers molted from stress as the angel muttered under his breath while he read, tapping his fingers absent mindedly.

"Sir, maybe we should take a break?" The Lieutenant offers with a kind smile, but Adam just waved her off.

He never listened.

Lute sighed and looked at the ground, picking up one of the golden feathers and twirling it in her fingers, an idea forming.

Adam was reading when suddenly he felt something brush against his neck, he jumped and looked at his lieutenant, but her arms were behind her back in her normal stance. Weird...

He shrugged it off and went back to reading when he felt it again, this time on his ear. He snorted and blushed slightly, looking back towards his friend.

"The fuck are you up to??" The first man asks, but he knew very well.

"I'm giving you one last chance to accept my offer of a break, sir" She responds, but she knew deep down, this would be necessary.

"Fuck off, dangertits, I'm working" Adam says, he flinched when he felt hands on his wings, "Wahait- Lute, fuhuhck!"

"I did give you a chance" Lute says with a smirk, scribbling her fingers over the golden wings.

The first man fell into a fit of giggles and snorts, his wings flapping absent mindedly. If anyone else, he would've killed them right there but this was Lute! He was fucked from the start!

"You know, I always see you playing with that guitar of yours. Maybe I should practice, really get on those lessons you've been doing with me" The lieutenant says with a smirk, her hands moving to his stomach and started strumming it like a guitar. "Bow now now now now, guitar solo, fuck yeah!"

"nahahaHAHAHT *Snort!* THAHAHAT!" Adam squealed, laughing his head off. His wings flapping involuntary, a few feathers falling off.

"Whats the matter, sir? The first man himself can't handle a little tickling?" She teased with a smirk watching him fall to pieces under her fingers. She had to admit, it was rather cute.

"LUHUHUTE! PLEAHAHASE! *Snort!*"

"Hmm, will you finally take a break?"

"YEHEHES! I SWEHEHEAR!"

"Fine."

Lute finally stopped her "torture" and Adam collapsed in his seat, giggling and panting. The lieutenant smiled and pat his head, running her fingers through his hair.

"Fuhuck... You're so brutal..." Adam mutters with a sigh, leaning into the subtle affection.

"Maybe, but its not my fault you don't listen" She responds with a shrug.

Adam smiled softly, with all the shit going on... He was glad to at least have her in his corner and to keep his head on straight.

#hazbin hotel tickle #guitarspear #Maybe...#tickle fic #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #lee!adam #ler!lute

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sulumuns-dootah · 4 months

Text

25.12. Satan - Letter to Santa (18+)

༺☆༻

A/N: We've finally made it to the kings! Two kings a day and a smut for each. This is my special treat for ya'll! ^^

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

༺☆༻

'Y/N, can you come see me in my room? It's about your letter.' a message from Satan pops up on your phone and the blood in your veins runs cold. Not that letter. The letter that you wrote while shitfaced thanks to Paimon taking you out for a girls' night. The one that you thought was funny to address to Satan instead of Santa. Or at least you thought in that state that it was funny. The letter that you thought was somehow destroyed after you wrote it, but don't remember that happening due to your blackout.

So the letter made its way to him. This probably wouldn't be as horrifying if you actually remembered what you wrote in it. Or maybe worse. Either way he's read it and now you're considering surrendering yourself to angels. Angelification can't hurt worse than the embarrassment of facing Satan after he's found out your inner fantasies about him. What if they're too much even for him? Will you be cast out into Abaddon for being too kinky?

The whole walk to Satan's room is like being led to execution. It will most likely be like one too. The demons you meet along the way look indifferent.

Finally you arrive tot he doors into Satan's bedroom. You reach out for the handle but before actually making a contact with it, your hand stops. You're unsure. Maybe you can still run away to Paradise Lost and change your name. He surely won't be able to find you there.

“Oh for fucks sake, just come in. I'm not gonna bite your head off.” a voice from the other side booms. He knows you're here. So there is no way out of this other than to go forward. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Satan is sitting on his bed with the letter opened beside him. When his eyes land on you he's immediately sporting his smirk. So far so good. His legs are slightly spread apart. Definitely intimidating at all.

“So what did you want?” you meekly ask, not moving away from the door that's now closed even though you don't remember closing them.

“Yeah, about that. Come sit.” he pats one of his thick thighs and spreads his legs even further apart. A growls leaves him when you don't immediately respond to his request and he's quick to close the distance. Picking you up he returns to the bed and sets you on his thigh.

“Now, where were we?” he reaches for the letter next to him and holds it up with one hand while the other is around your waist as to ensure you don't run away. The letter is even worse than you've imagined. Your writing is messy and some of the words are just scribbles. There are also some lipstick kisses. You don't even remember wearing lipstick that night a all.

“So in your letter you wrote some interesting things-”

“Satan, I was drunk. Paimon took me out drinking and I must've drank way too much.” you cut him off, hoping to make him go easier on you.

“Oh, so you don't mean any of these things, then? Or did the alcohol only help you loosen up to admit to these fantasies?” his red eyes are mischievously glowing at you.

“It uh...” you don't want to admit, that it's the other option and you did want to do things with Satan. Why are you even so anxious? Knowing him he'd most likely be down. Coem to think of it, you've never seen him turn down steamy offers from other demons.

“Aw, too shy? Here, let me help you.” Satan chuckles and throws the letter to his side. His now free hand quickly grasps your thigh and makes you straddle his lap. You heart starts beating in your chest as well as somewhere else.

“W-what are you doing?” you squeak out and slightly instinctively wiggle your hips.

“I'm only doing what you've told me you want to do in your letter. Do you want me to read it out loud to refresh your mind?” he says holding your chin in his hand while the other moves who knows where.

“I... You don't mind it?” you whisper, being well aware your face must be red.

“No, in fact was about to jerk off to the scenario, but I figured you'd like to partake too. It's your fantasy, afterall. ” he shrugs and chuckles. His words go straight to your clit at this point.

You blink a bit to fully process what has just happened and Satan uses this as an opportunity to attack your neck with bites and kisses. The way his sharp fangs graze your neck make you dizzy and so you try to anchor yourself in his hair by tangling your hands in it. Soon enough your hands are near the base of his horns and you can't help but to tug on the hair around it, which makes him growl and grow inside his pants.

Your hips automatically start grinding down on him and he responds with small thrusts to meet you. His head rises from your neck and you can see how flushed he is. You tug his hair harder to tilt his face up and he moans only to be silenced by your lips. The hands which were previously on your hips now work on undoing your clothes.

You top is the first to go and you try to make him equal by undoing the zipper on his overall and taking off his t-shirt. His muscles are so perfectly sculpted underneath and now they're flexing underneath your touch and only for you. You can't help but scratch his pecks to mark them as yours and Satan moans in response. The red marks seem to get only redder and redder by the second.

“Nngh.. I can't wait anymore..” Satan growls and tears your pants clean off alongside your underwear. He's breathing heavily as he's sheds the sleeves of his overall and pushes it low enough to be able to free his cock. The shape and color of it is just so enticing. You're quick to position yourself and have it enter you. This has to be the best dick you've had and he's only pushed inside.

As if Satan can feel your excitement, he starts slamming you onto him with barely any work from your side. His hands envelop your waist and hold you close so he can bury his face in your tits and leave lovebites all over them.

Reaching back to your anchoring point, you return your hands into his hair around the base. This time you also dare to stroke the base itself, which makes Satan dig his claws into your body, giving you the most pleasant pain you've ever experienced.

Satan bites and sucks one of your nipples, making you squeal. If he wants to play like that, then why not. You reach higher from the base of his horns higher and start slowly stroking them. This causes Satan to howl and start slamming you onto him with even more force and at faster speed.

Neither of you are able to last longer with the others actions and so the two of you come almost simultaneously from the pain and pleasure. After a short while of the both of you catching your breaths Satan speaks up with a slight chuckle: “Now, about the other fantasies you've mentioned in your letter...”

༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Seeing how much you enjoy pain from me, maybe we should experiment and maybe I'll let you use it on me, hm?"

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan #whb smut #the yule festival of hell

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chrrywavs · 1 year

Text

Tiny black shorts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you show up to school with a new pair of shorts and Eddie’s old t-shirt drawing his attention almost immediately.

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: gagging, blowjob, 18+, perv! Eddie, praising, pet names.

╔══ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══╗

All day Eddie couldn’t get his mind off you. It was the first period when he first saw you walk in, with his oversized band shirt semi tucked into the tiniest leather shorts he’d ever seen. Wearing his favorite color on your lips; blood red, with a pair of black army boots and the chain he had gifted you for your birthday hanging from your waist. Practically wiping the drool from his mouth.

he held you close to his side all day his hand always laying on your hip and squeezing your bare thighs whenever he could. He took every opportunity to steal a kiss whether it be during passing period or a quick bathroom break, and if you let him he’d quickly escalate it, slipping his tongue into your mouth and wrapping your leg around his waist. if it weren’t for the fact that you were on school grounds you might’ve let him keep going and Sometimes he’d hold you in front of him or tie his sweater around his waist to hide the tent that would form in his pants after. You took notice of his behavior.

But It wasn’t until he practically started grinding up against you during passing period, quietly moaning “your makeup looks perfect baby, god your perfect.” And “these shorts looks so good on you baby.” into your ear while you were fixing your makeup that you realized why he was being so needy all of a sudden.

༺✯༻

You tapped the pencil against the desk as you thought about how else you would extend this already drawn out essay. You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear Eddie whispering your name behind you, till he reached over and tapped your shoulder. You slightly jumped not having expected it before turning your head to stare at him over your shoulder. He smiled at you handing you a small folded piece of notebook paper.

You took the paper tucking it under your essay and taking a quick peak at your teacher to make sure she hadn’t seen. After a moment you pulled the note back out of its hiding place, quietly opening it.

You look really pretty today :)

You smiled to yourself feeling your cheeks blush. You quickly scribbled down your response handing it back to Eddie.

Really? Our laundry machine broke and this shirt was the only clean one I had left, hope you don’t mind.

You waited for Eddie to respond, your foot now tapping the floor. Eddie peaked at the teacher who still had her nose deep into her book, before quickly reaching over and placing the note on the edge of your desk.

Are you kidding? I hope you never fix your laundry machine if it means I get to see you in my shirts.

You held your head up against the palm of your hand, pressing against your mouth to suppress the giggle that wanted to escape. you wrote your response tossing it over your shoulder toward him.

Hate to burst your bubble Ed’s, but this is the only shirt of yours I’ve got. If you wanna see me in more of your clothes you’d have to come over later and bring me a whole load of them.

You’d heard a small amused hmph come from Eddies direction before he stood from his chair placing the note on your desk and walking towards the pencil sharpener at the front of the class.

I’ll do more then bring a whole load of shirts if you know what I mean ;)

You looked up towards Eddie who was already staring back raising both his brows up and down with a sly smirk. You playfully rolled your eyes writing your response and handing the note back to him as he walked pass your desk towards his.

Your such a pervert Ed’s.

You waited for eddie to give you back the note but after a while of nothing you’d almost forgotten of the interaction, just focusing on your final paragraph when finally he reached over handing you a different colored piece of paper most likely one he’d ripped from an old flyer.

Meet me by my van for lunch later? I got an itch I need you to scratch :)

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, eddie doing nothing but pretending to work on his essay keeping everyone non the wiser. You turned back to the note writing a quick response.

Are you seriously horny right now?

You were keeping your eyes on your teacher as you handed back the note. she had now gotten up from her desk to wipe away any notes she had written on the whiteboard. You felt Eddie gently tap your back and you reach your arm behind you to sneakily take the note back.

What can I say, I got a hot girlfriend sitting right in front of me wearing MY shirt and the tiniest little shorts I’ve ever seen, how could I not be?

You bit your lip, scribbling down a quick little response and tossing it over your shoulder before the teacher turned back around to face the class.

What will I get if go?

You looked up at the clock 11:45 class was almost over and you hadn’t finished the conclusion yet. Before you could turn back to your work Eddie tapped your shoulder.

I’ll take you out to eat, maybe some burgers or pizza?

You wrote down your response handing it back to him and turning back to your essay, at this point just about ready to bullshit the last five sentences.

And if I say no?

Eddie smiled, he absolutely adored when you teased him. He messily wrote his response and reached over letting the note fall over your shoulder.

Then you’ll have a very grumpy boyfriend to deal with for the rest of the day.

You giggled low enough for no one to hear. You wrote back the only appropriate response you could think of.

I can deal with a grumpy Eddie. ;)

Eddie quickly returned the note as if he had already written it beforehand.

No please. :(

You turned to look at him. He dramatically frowned using his finger to mimic a tear running down his cheek. a playful smirk grew at your lips. The bell rang excusing the class and you crumbled the note tossing it into the trash on your way out.

༺✯༻

Eddie snaked his arm around your waist pulling you against the lockers. “Where are you in a rush to?”

You giggled, “Ed’s I have to get to class!”

Eddie leaned in stealing a quick kiss “you got five minutes.” He smiled. “So about later?…”

“What about later?” You teased cocking your head to the side.

“Are you up for it? Imagine how hot it’d be to blow me in the school’s parking lot.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be so hot if we got caught now would it?”

“Actually it would—“

“Eds!” You slapped his shoulder. “I’ll think about it okay? Maybe I’ll be hungry enough by lunchtime.” You winked at him.

“Oh baby,” he cooed leaning into your ear “you just made me rock hard.” He whispered.

You laughed pushing him off you. “Save it for later freak.”

༺✯༻

Third and fourth period flew by and as you stood to leave the class you whispered into Eddies ear to meet you by his van in ten minutes before running off into the bathroom. he practically jumped from his seat dashing towards his car, completely ignoring anyone calling out to him to ‘slow down’ or to ‘watch where he was going’.

Eddie sat in his warm van bouncing his leg impatiently waiting for you to arrive, his cock straining painfully against his tight jeans. his hands found their way to the mound that formed underneath his Jean and began palming himself through the thick fabric so he’d be ready by the time you arrived, he wanted to skip everything and get right into it. He bit his lip sliding his hand into his jeans and started groping his balls over the fabric of his boxers. “Fuck (y/n) hurry.” he whined.

Once you arrived. He spared now time fumbling with his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. His already hard cock springing out and bouncing against his stomach.

You adjusted yourself to the best position you could possibly find in the awkward layout of Eddie’s van making sure you had easy access to all of him. You spat into the palm of your hand looking directly into his eyes as you slicked it all over his cock coating him with your spit. He groaned shutting his eyes, melting into your touch. “Shit (y/n).” he breathed out.

You were taking your sweet time teasing him and Eddie was getting impatient. You squeezed him gently, fisting the base of his cock and licked your lips savoring him as you watched the forskin pull back revealing his red tip.

“C’mon baby no teasing please.” He practically whined. His soft eyes met yours and he caressed your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I need your pretty little mouth around my cock sweetheart.” He cooed slipping his thumb in. With your lips wrapped around his finger you gently sucked the salty skin swirling your tongue around and releasing it with a pop. His thumb coated red with your cherry lipstick.

You slowly leaned in leaving a small lingering kiss on his neck before sinking your mouth down onto his cock. Your tongue stroked a long lick against the underside of his dick, pressing flat against the throbbing vein that ran alongside it before wrapping your lips around the angry red tip. “Fuck.” Eddie groaned as you started bobbing your head up and down taking in as much of him as you could, your spit dribbling down your chin.

Your fingers gently traced alongside his balls feeling them twitch under your well manicured nails. You savored his taste moaning as you swirled your tounge around his tip. “Shit (y/n)” he grunted “you can’t do that.” He gulped. “you’re gonna make me cum too quickly.”

Eddie gently combed your hair out of your face gathering it into a bunch in his hand. “Been thinking about you all day.” he murmured throwing his head back against the leather seat. “You and your sexy little shorts drove me crazy.” He smirked down at you followed by a loud moan when your throat contracted against him. “G-god you make me feel s-so good baby.”

You released him with a pop fisting his length. “You love when my warm mouth is on you, don’t you baby? So desperate for it huh?” You teased. Eddie nodded and small barley audible whimper escaped his parted lips. You tsk “aww already so fucked dumb for me, and you haven’t even been inside my pussy yet.“ you squeezed his shaft tightly watching his face contour into one of pleasure. “Is that what you want? To be balls deep inside me?” You purred.

Eddie nodded, his head completely dazed from thoughts. You squeezed his balls. “your words Ed’s.” you instructed.

“Fuck yes.” Eddie hissed “Fuck (y/n) shit, keep going please don’t stop.” He Panted.

You smirked at his reaction. It was rare to see Eddie so desperate, normally it’s the other way around but you didn’t mind it at all. It was nice to be reminded that Eddie craved you just as much as you craved him. you leaned down taking his balls into your mouth and lapping your tongue around the wrinkled skin. “Jesus fucking Christ baby, you’re-fuck-you’re amazing.” He praised followed by sweet murmurs of your name.

He raked his hot trembling fingers through his hair pulling away his sticky bangs from his forehead. You lazily licked all the way up from his balls to his tip parting your swollen lips around his cock. eddie bucked his hips, his dick hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Sorry baby, fuck sorry.” he panted.

You felt his dick twitch in your mouth. “fuck I’m gonna cum-I’m gonna cum.” he repeated followed by a string of curses. Eddie reached for anything he could and you took hold of his hands placing them over your head prompting him to guide you at his own pace. He threaded his fingers into your hair, holding you still as you gagged, your throat contracting around his cock.“Oh (y/n)- oh ozzy fuck-“ he growled fucking into you mercilessly. Tears spilling from your eyes as his cock hit the back of your throat. A string of curses escaped his lips followed by a loud groan. you felt him spilling his hot white ropes into your mouth coating your throat.

With Eddie hunched over he started guiding your head up and down his cock at a much more slower speed as he came down from his high. Finally he pulled you from his cock. You gasped for air wiping away the tears that formed due to all the gagging. “C’mere” he said before moving you over to his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. “You look so beautiful like this.” He murmured against your lips.

“All messy and gross?” You smiled.

“Yeah” he said before connecting your lips once again. He slapped your ass earning a small gasp from you, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue through. You moaned as he lazily sucked on your tounge groaning at the hint of his leftover seed, guiding your hips in a forward backward motion on his lap.

“Eds.” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He breathed into the kiss.

“Lunch. is almost. over.” you said in between kisses.

“So?” He murmured pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and trailing kisses down your jaw.

You moaned as he began to suck on the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck. “So I have a test later, I can’t miss it.” Eddie groaned throwing his head back against the seat. “I know baby I need it too, later okay? Come over my parents won’t be home.” You smiled cupping his cheek.

“Home? Alone? With no annoying people to distract us?” You nodded. “I like the sound of that” Eddie smiled lunging towards the crook of your neck leaving small kisses.

“Eddie that tickles!” You squealed.

╚══ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══╝

Please leave request or ideas I’m literally struggling so hard out here:(

#80s #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddiemunson x reader #stranger things #perv!eddie #smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn

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dyslexic-mess · 1 year

Text

Suits and Stars AU part 2

(Part one)

Suits where not really Dannys thing.

For one, the shoulder pads made him look much too square for his liking. The fitted waist was all to exposing and three layers? Absolutely not. As he approached the building, a shimmering skyscraper that practically screamed ‘you can’t afford to look at me’, Danny decided it wasn’t worth the hassle and took off his blazer. A vest and tie where enough, right? Besides, its not like he actually worked there. The dress code wasn’t really his problem beyond looking vaughly like he fitted in.

The stiff fabric hooked over one arm, he strutted into the building with all the zeel of a man who worked a wall street office job.

“Nicholas Halden” he said to the receptionist, putting his hands in his pockets as she clicked on her computer. “Your not on the system” she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “First day.” he countered, easily. “Inturn?” damn, what was this girl, a cop? Danny brightened his smile a little more “new P.A, actually”

She gave him one last look over her glasses, scanning him. “I don’t have any ticks or fleas. Promise.” He crossed his heart with that, leaning into his smile so it became more of a smirk. The woman finally cracked a little, huffling through her nose with an up turned lip before flipping through a folder. She handed him a lanyard “make sure you keep it that way, Mr. Halden” Danny took it and began to walk backwards in one motion, towards the security gates. “Nick” he offered. She finally smiled at him. “Nick.” she corrected in a slightly warmer tone. “Get a proper security pass before next week”

“Will do!” He responded as he turned to walk properly, shooting a finger gun over his shoulder as he did.

Receptionists. They held the keys to the castle and they knew it. Thinking about it, Danny would rather get grilled by a cop. They where easier to charm.

The office itself managed to be both claustrophobic and far to big. Rammed with people in suits of varying quality, tapping on keyboards and scribbling on paper. They chattered to each other about one thing or another and it was absolute murder on Dannys over sensitive ears. He fought the urge to cover them as he made for the office at the top, of course, that was sectioned off by a glass wall and a door twice as big as it needed to be.

He recognized his employer inside, looking more commanding in his own set of shoulder pads and dress shoes. Danny would almost believe you if you told him this guy and the tussled looking dude from last night were different people. Almost.

They were still the same in some very key ways. The tightness in his movements, the way his eyes scanned his surroundings so he noticed Danny long before he approached and, of course, that scowly tilt to his brow that darkened his features and shadowed those mottled blue eyes.

It was a shame, really, and Danny found himself, briefly, wanting to make the man smile.

He did not smile when he clocked Danny. Infact, that serious scowl seemed to deepen slightly as he waved him in, dismissing the other men in equally stuffy suits he'd been talking to.

"You got past reception?" He questioned, seeming surprised. Danny shrugged "don't panic, most people wouldn't"

Tim just hummed, positioning his laptop so it faced away from his office facing window. He pulled up a very official looking document with 'Nicks' ID and employment files. "Nicholas Halden. That's a little on the nose" Danny crossed his arms. "Does that make you Burke?"

The other man snorted "yeah. It dose." He handed Danny another lanyard, this one looking more official than the 'guest' card he was wearing. "I'm not dumb enough to let a known criminal walk around without keeping tabs-"

"-I'm not known" Danny butt in, a little prideful. Tim waived a hand at him.

"I know. In any case, this'll track your movements."

"Your not a convicted fellon so you can leave it at the door at the end of the day but if your on the clock, your wareing this."

The way Tim was debriefing him made Danny wonder if the nervous, flighty looking man he'd met last night had been a mask. This guy was clearly no stranger to being in authority and had no problems dolling out orders. It was, in a way, reassuring. He just hoped Tim could back up his thunder.

He directed his attention back to the computer, where Tim pulled up work schedules, fake contact details and a bit of fabricated history for nick. Just in case.

"Nick is my new P.A, employed with good recommendation, on a probationary period. That gives you clearance to do most things on the grounds I asked for it. Just don't go abusing the privilege-"

Danny rolled his eyes, Tim didn't bother acknowledging it.

"You work the job. You find my rat. When we've tied the loose ends, Nick starts underperforming and we let him go."

It was Dannys turn to hum as he looked over the startlingly good fake documents. Damn, even tucker would struggle to produce something like this! Did it make him curious? Hell yea but for now he was gonna mind his business.

"Its a good plan" he commented, flicking through the tabs a few more times as he did. "Though I don't remember you mentioning I'd have to do actual work around here when we spoke last"

Tim glanced at him "What, think you can't handle it? Or do you just have an aversion to legit work?" Danny huffed and rolled his eyes again "whatever, sure. Book you a taxi and reserve you a restaurant between actually doing what you're paying me for. Piece 'a cake"

"Better be" Tim sighed, closing his computer. "This has a time limit. The-"

"Yeah, yeah, the longer they get away with it, the more confident they'll get in what they leak. I got it." Danny finished and Tim raised an eyebrow. "Don't do that infront of the other employees. You might not answer to me but Nick does." He dead panned.

Danny just gave another one of his easy smiles, picking up his new ID, which felt more like a tracking collar, and spinning it on one finger. "You got it, pretty boy"

Tim puffed out his cheeks in the biggest expression Danny had managed to get from him, pointing a finger in his direction as Danny went to leave. "And don't call me that either!" He called after him.

Oh yea. This was gonna be a fun couple of weeks.

(Part three)

#dpxdc #bek writes #struggling for an au name on this one?#Office AU maby?#idk.#eather way Im vibing with it #who knows how far this one will go #for now Im likeing it #I decided #Suits and Stars AU

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oh-saints · 1 year

Note

Star gazing with ruben dias

stars

“pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things,” rúben likes to say to you. and he stands by it, never giving you less than all the pretty things he thinks you deserve. up until the very end of your life.

rúben dias x you

word count: 2.1k

tw: implied talks about life and death

note: hi hi hi i’m back! finally managed to battle jetlag and post-breakup heartbreak and all the jazz… anyway the summary and the tw might indicate spoiler...👀 so proceed at your own risk. but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read.

“gatinha,”

you were perched on the stool on the opposite of the kitchen island, on the other end of where he was cooking, watching him stirring the pot that was hosting his favourite dish that night, legs dangling like a kid on a swing.

it was another friday for you two. on fridays where he didn’t have to go for an away match, you held the tradition to be civil and normal by ordering in dinner or he cooked for the lives of you both. the tradition included you indulging him the pleasure of being called with an affectionate portugese pet name, and he’d laugh at how badly you butchered the pronunciation.

and he was about to do just that—chuckling at your terrible but endearing effort—when you continued, eyes were casted down like your feet were more amazing that looking at his eyes.

that was when rúben realised something was off the mark. because you’d declared openly to him that you love his brown orbs so much to the point you didn’t think you could say no if he looked at you intensely with those eyes—the claim was still proven true until now without amiss, by the way.

“can we take the dinner to the backyard?”

with your pursed lips, rúben immediately noticed the nervousness that was hiding behind the strong front.

it wasn’t his first or second rodeo actually, seeing you nervous when asking something. one of the things rúben liked about you was how you almost never asked of him about anything, unless necessary. so different to people he’d met before, asking too much when they couldn’t give anything in return. and that was solidified rúben’s justification to date you already, despite being ordinary person compared to his superstar status, because you made him want to do anything and everything you didn’t ask for.

it started small, at first. trinkets from his away matches, then it grew into sending a bouquet of flowers every week to your small coffeeshop. and still, what you appreciated the most wasn’t the stuffs he brought to your table but the little notes he left behind for you because for you, it was always the thought that mattered.

the same reason you never asked for extravagant dinners, branded clothes and bags, or all these things rúben could’ve easily gotten for you. the same reason you only accepted him entirely into your life—after he sent you a hampers of flowers and fine china mugs, with a hand-written scribbles of pretty people should always be surrounded by pretty things.

so who was he to deny when you, for once in blood moon, asked something from him?

“anything you want, meu anjo,” was always rúben’s answer whenever you had a favour to ask, and he meant it without further question asked. as long as it was within his capacity and capability, he intended to make it real for you.

“thank you,” and you would always grin widely at him every time he responded to your silly requests, so wide it turned your eyes into a pair of sickle moons, and rúben had never looked at whatever orbiting the sky the same anymore since he’d met you. you paled everything else in this terrestrial realm the way the moon outshone everything else in its own reign.

especially when you smile, the way you were doing now as rúben laid down the traditional red picnic mat he’d kept from the last time he had the idea of doing a picnic nearby hyde park. you’re always genuine when you smile, to the point you would rather stir the conversation elsewhere if it required you to fake a reaction, so rúben knew every smile coming from you is precious and he swore he’d do anything to keep them alive whenever you were with him.

but for once, rúben had to question his eyes when he noticed the glint in your eyes faltered a bit, despite the smile still attached to your face, as you asked him, “do you think the stars are alive, my love?”

you were supposed to twinkle like the object in talking, so why did you look so tense?

“i truthfully don’t know,” rúben tucked the freshly-cut short hair behind your ears, so soft against his rough skin, while you laid down on the red fabric. “you tell me, meu anjo.”

“i think they do. it’ll explain why some are bright and some aren’t,” while the smile were still intact, your eyes shut down, and rúben missed them already, for they were so clear the stars could be reflected through them as if you were an extension to the starlit sky. “some are having good days and some aren’t.”

“then do they die, minha vida?”

“yes, i think they do. it’ll explain the fallen stars,” you patted the empty spot beside yours, silently urging rúben to lie down beside you and watch the night skyline together. “what do you think?”

rúben didn’t concede to your whim this time though, because he thought he was looking at his universe already. “why do you think they can die?”

“because sadly, in life, pretty things cannot last forever, rúben.”

however, when rúben was awoken by the loud sound of you crashing down the toiletries in your shared bathroom, only to find you collapsed lifelessly on the floor, things were slowly put into its respective place by Mother Nature.

things you were supposed to hide from him, that is.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out eventually that something had gone terribly wrong with you because you had never fallen down like a paper doll like that. the sight of you lying helplessly unconscious even terrified him to the point he was praying loudly to god—or whoever that might be listening—to save you, as he’d never seen your skin so pale and your lips so blue.

and he’d noticed the nervous, shaking baritone of the ER doctors that had come to your aide when they were about to explain their deduction of your condition.

but he never expected the doctors would be dropping a nuclear bomb on his head.

out of all things he could think of, a brain tumour at the most dangerous part of your brain was definitely not something in his cards. the position was too risky for an immediate surgery, especially with the humongous size you were having, so chemotherapy was what you’d been doing behind his back—and it was only now it made sense to him why you liked to wear scarfs over your head as of late.

but you were racing against time. as an early result, you were losing your hair and eyesight at the same time. the combination of the position and the weight of the deadly mound was slowly eroding your vision, and sudden blackout was actually expected if rúben had known earlier about it.

hell, had he known about it…

good god, he should’ve seen the signs. the scarfs, the constant ponytails around him, the recently short-cut hair… so weird when you know he loves your hair dangling down your back so much.

how could he think of the ridiculous number of meds you were taking as merely vitamins?

so stupid of him.

“i’ll convince her to take the surgery,” was all his response at the end of the doctors’ explanation. how could she think of delaying the inevitable, when her eyesight was what was at risk? when she was at risk?

but of course, he was met by a ferocious response from you. so fierce it actually scared the life of rúben, for you had never been so violent and abrasive around him. you were always calm and collected, the two of you made a rather cold couple from the outside.

“it’s a decision where my life’s at stake, rúben!” you cried out, desperation lingered in the air—rúben from wanting to have you back in pristine condition; yours from the freight of what you could lose entirely, should the surgery go south. “you can’t decide that for me!”

but who was he to deny when you asked something from him, when you’d asked nothing from him?

so rúben conceded to your whims of undergoing chemo. he’d made sure your monthly schedule was right up in his alley, on days where he didn’t have to travel for an away match, so he could be by your side without fail. he wasn’t about to let you go through endless post-procedure vomits alone without help, he would be the one holding your hand before and after the long-hours procedure had ended.

he wasn’t about to leave you behind when the waves were rough, when the most devilish demon in the form of insecurity came knocking on your door. he would be the one swiping your tears away and kissing you breathlessly to tell you that you were still beautiful in his eyes because you gave the meaning of the word entirely different since he’d come to know you.

only pep knew the reason behind his monthly absence, though, for rúben had promised you absolute secrecy from the world about your condition. albeit, still with a sworn commitment that rúben shall deliver every match he was starting.

despite your resilience throughout the whole procedure and diligence in participating every pre and post procedural events, your condition was beyond the chemo’s saving. it had taken rúben numerous days to hold you in his arms while you cried for your life, endless hours to say all the reasons to fight your firm belief you were on the losing ends rather than reaping the possible benefits that might come after the procedure, and abundance of word strings that was equivalent to how much rúben loves you, even if you couldn’t see him anymore.

the last one held the biggest contribution to your final decision to undergo the surgery, as suggested. rúben’s countless declaration of his love, regardless of your detoriating condition, pushed you to take the life-altering procedure because deep down, you wanted to become better—for yourself, for both of you, and mostly for him.

for rúben, who’d been nothing less than a perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for since day 1.

“come here.”

rúben kneeled forward without further ado, bringing himself closer to your arm’s length. your hands immediately reached for his stubbles, stroked the sharp edges along his jaw and cheekbones ever so slowly. your eyes traced where your hands went, and he knew you were back trying to memorise your favourite features of him.

he hated it, the depressing thought you were having—that this surgery might fail and this was your last chance to see him, feel him before complete blackness became your friend. you were one of the brightest, most positive person he’d come across and he hated that this disease were slowly taking the light away from you too.

“i love you,” and rúben didn’t stutter his words. his eyes zeroed down on you, unwavering like his words, and you smiled widely at that because you knew he knew the demonic thoughts you weren’t supposed to be having. had you had the energy, you would certainly laugh at your boyfriend for catching you red.

“i know.”

“good, because i’m going to wait right here, okay?”

you nodded with a rather meek smile this time, and rúben’s heart constricted at the sight because he knew you were mustering every energy left inside of you, yet you still looked so ethereally beautiful as if the disease weren’t eating your life away. “okay.”

“so you must come back to me, you hear me?” rúben brought your flimsy hand to kiss the back of your hand, your knuckles. “promise me that.”

“i will,” your hand slipped away from his, only to reach up to his face and pulled his lips towards yours to seal the deal. “i love you.”

the gentle breeze whispered against his lips were enough of an assurance at that time, for you said it with a tone as resolute as someone of your condition could do. so he let you go after one last kiss—a short one this time as he watched the stars in your eyes were slowly fleeting away, thanks to the meds kicking in—wheeled by the medics into the operating theatre, and already looking forward to see you again in the next couple of hours.

but rúben should’ve known that will was never a stronger word than going to when promising something.

for you never came back to him.

and the stars shone the brightest he’d ever seen that night since coming in town.

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escape-from-reality-reads · 5 months

Text

Armored

The start of a fic set in regards to a conversation that happened between my partner and me in regards to Tieflings using their tails for various things.

M9 x Reader

slight mollymauk x reader

slightly suggestive but that's up to interpretation

Find it on AO3

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

You were staring. You knew it. Molly knew it. Everyone knew it and it was starting to get weird.

It wasn’t the first time Molly had been stared at, being part of a carnival for a while, but the Nein were a bit more cautious about where they looked so as to not garner unwanted attention. Yet here you were; deep in thought, unmoving, and staring at his tail. At first he thought you were just staring into space so he started moving the appendage back and forth to be sure, only to have your eyes follow its every move.

Glancing towards the rest of the crew with a smirk he lifts his tail to eye height, your eyes faithfully following.

“Glad you were able to find my eyes darling.”

“Why don’t you use your tail as a whip?”

He freezes at the random sentence. “I — What?”

You finally focus on his face. “Your tail. Why don’t you use it as a whip? I’ve seen both you and Jester lash your tails fairly quickly and it's about the width of my whip.” You place your bullwhip on the table, unwrapping part of it.

Jester was the first to recover “That would hurt tho.”

You look over. “Not if you wrap or braid it with leather or something. You’d essentially be making a new piece of armor that protects your tail. Plus you could probably find a blacksmith and get a piece of metal that you could place over the end that would be sharper to help deal damage.”

“Almost like a stinger on a wasp.” Yasha responds, entering the conversation. “You could grapple with your arms and wrap around with your tail.”

“Even without wrapping I feel like it wouldn’t be too different from clotheslining someone with an arm.” Beau leans forward, now entrenched in the idea.

You nod. “It would probably hurt more than that, considering that the amount of contact would be smaller.”

“We could even get different things to attach to the end!” Jester states, pulling out her sketchbook and scribbling down some ideas while muttering to herself.

Molly, finally snapping out of it, leans forward onto the table. “Your brain never ceases to amaze darling. Where did this come from?”

You stare at him in confusion, slowly raising the bullwhip from the table. “You have something attached to your ass that looks like a shorter version of my main weapon of choice. I have seen you actively move it however you want. Why are you so surprised I asked this question?”

Beau laughs. “Molly they say the most out of pocket shit that I have ever heard. You can’t be surprised by this. Between the threats of shaving people bald, wanting to make mimics their pet, and responding to things with random noises that make no sense, I'm just happy there’s some logic in this one.”

Fjord, Caleb, and Nott sit down with new drinks, Nott speaking up first. “We making fun of Y/N and their mannerisms?” Jester jumps in, quickly explaining the small conversation that had happened while they were away, leaving you able to lean over to Molly.

“You know, I could just braid a fabric around your tail for fun.”

Molly looks back to you. “Oh?”

“Wrap it up, put some charms on the fabric. Could even do so as to match the rest of your attire. Doesn’t have to be a defensive thing.”

Molly smirks. “Was this just a long con to be able to play with my tail darling? You know all you need to do is ask.”

You shrug with a smile, a glint in your eye that Molly quite enjoys. “But now Jester has an option to use to get alone time with a certain green someone.”

Molly barks a laugh “Oh you clever little thing you.” All you respond with is an eyebrow wiggle as you drink your ale.

#story #mighty nein #mollymauk tealeaf #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #fjord stone #caleb widogast #nott the brave #mighty nein x reader #mollymauk x reader

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ldhluvr · 1 year

Text

☆ close to you

pairing: academic rival!keeho x fem!reader

summary: yoon keeho is a menace to society. especially if the definition of society is you (and maybe your math teacher).

other info: this was written for a friend, so the texting style is specifically to fit her texting style. also i think i made it a fem reader? no proper proofreading / editing soz. also ur math teacher is nosy as hell but also i would love having him as my math teacher

Being the first person in a column of students had its perks, because you were the one who got to see every students’ test scores before you passed their papers back. Usually, you were not the type of person to invade someone’s privacy and potentially embarrass them like that, but with Keeho, it was very different.

He was the biggest smartass you knew, and you were quite smart yourself. You just weren’t a dick about it.

But your seating chart gave you the upper hand here — you get to make fun of any idiotic mistakes he makes on his test, and he can’t do the same for you.

You flip through the papers until you find yours, and then his, and you take a long look at his. You hear him groan behind you.

“Just pass back the damn paper. If you’re so curious, I could tell you my grade. You’re holding everyone else up.”

“You’d lie,” you mutter, as you continue reading his test. “Oh, wow, how’d you get number eight wrong?” You reach back and hold out the stack of papers for him to grab.

“If you’d let me see my paper earlier, I might’ve been able to give you an answer.”

“‘Might’ve,’” you mock. You take a look at your own test paper and see you also got number eight wrong. You feel a presence near your shoulder and you realize Keeho’s reading your test from behind you. You flip the paper over as fast as you can before turning around to glare at him.

“What’re you looking at?”

“Just checking if you have the right answer for number eight. Guess you don't.”

“Shut up. At least I know how to solve it now.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

Of course he’s smirking.

You roll your eyes at him and turn back around.

The next day, he taps on your shoulder. You quickly turn around to glare at him but notice he’s rubbing his nose. You look down at your braid that rests on your shoulder. You fight the urge to laugh.

“Did I just hit you with my hair?”

“Most people would say sorry.”

“Clearly, I’m not most people. What do you want?”

He stops rubbing his nose and looks at you, clearly annoyed.

“Can you pass me the notes for 9.3? I couldn’t really get what he was saying.”

“Why would I help you? Ask one of your friends,” you snap.

“I am.”

You freeze. We’re friends now? Since when?

He’s making a (really ugly) pouty face and you feel like throwing up or something.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” you say, handing him your notebook. “Wait, how the hell am I supposed to take notes now?”

Keeho doesn’t respond, and stares a little above your head instead.

You cringe, having a feeling that you know what’s behind you. You turn around and are met with your math teacher’s grimacing face. You feel like you’re trapped in a Disney Channel movie.

“Hope you had a nice little chat. If you continue it, I’ll give you your very own detention slip!” he exclaims, a fake smile adorning his face. Normally, you loved your teacher’s sarcasm, but this situation has made you realize you don’t love it as much when it’s directed at you.

Both you and Keeho mutter quick apologies to your teacher, and you quickly snatch your notebook back from him.

“As I was saying, with integrals, you have to keep in mind…”

Turns out, Keeho’s stupider than you thought. Even though your teacher essentially said “shut up or you’ll both get detention,” the idiot decides to open his big mouth.

He asks you for the notebook again and your teacher stops in the middle of his lesson, staring at the two of you with his same pained smile. He looks down at his podium and starts scribbling. You groan quietly and try your hardest not to smack Keeho in front of your entire class.

“Since you two love flirting in my class so much, here’s a ticket to a room just for the two of you. And me, of course. Today, after school.”

You open your mouth to object, but you know that’s going to make it worse. Wait, what the hell did he just say?

Whatever. Your mom’s going to kill you.

A couple hours later and it’s finally time for your first detention. If only he’d given you detention tomorrow so you could’ve explained that you didn’t interact with him that second time.

Whatever, it’s probably already on your record already.

Fuck Keeho.

Speaking of the boy, he’s seated in your usual class seat.

You give him a weird look and sit at the desk closest to the door. He gets up from his (read: your) seat and sits at the desk closest to yours.

You roll your eyes. “Just stay away from me. Because your idiotic self couldn’t pay attention in class, I’m stuck in detention. This is on my record because you didn’t take notes like you should’ve.” You pull out your computer from your backpack and decide to do homework.

Your math teacher still hasn’t arrived.

You take a quick glance at Keeho’s face and he looks kind of… hurt. When he realizes you saw him, he hides whatever the expression was with a smirk. “Ouch, that really hurt,” he says in the most sarcastic tone you’ve heard. He moves closer to you. “You know—“

Your teacher walks into the room and raises an eyebrow at the two of you. Keeho immediately moves positions and sits like a normal smartass.

Your teacher starts working at his desk. At the same time, you’re handed a post-it note.

“Excuse me? Also I know the post-it note’s from you dumbass, you don’t need to write your name on it. You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” You’ve already spoken before you remember where you are, and at this point, you don’t care.

“Actually, I’m not. From our grades, we’re relatively the same intelligence-wise, so if you’re calling me stupid, you’re calling yourself stupid too.”

“Math grades aren’t everything, dipshit. Also, did you just try to use the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback without using the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Hey, guys, I was joking when I said you can flirt in here, you’re supposed to be quiet. So please be. And do work — please do not just text each other or something,” your teacher sighs, running his hand through his hair.

You could’ve sworn he muttered something about “not being paid enough for this.”

Your phone lights up and you’re once again reminded that Yoon Keeho is actually the biggest idiot you know.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ ok so back to what i was saying

YOU how dumb are you

YOU he literally just said “don’t just text each other” and you’re literally texting me

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re texting back

YOU oh my God how are you in eleventh grade right now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ same way you are, sweetheart

You almost shriek and then (luckily) remember where you are. You turn to look at Keeho, and he’s already looking at you. Sometimes, it feels like his smirk is glued to his face.

YOU I don’t think we’re close enough for you to call me sweetheart

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d disagree with you there

YOU oh?

YOU okay, then tell me. how close are we?

YOU in your opinion, of course

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say about a foot

You roll your eyes and turn off your phone, going back to your work. A couple of minutes later and your phone (finally) lights up with another text.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine sorry

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you my friend today

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say we’re that close

YOU and friends call each other sweetheart?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i mean why not?

YOU ugh why are you so difficult all the time

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine fine

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ hey, wait i never said i called you sweetheart because we’re friends YOU okay so then why'd you call me sweetheart

YOU and please be quick with your answer

YOU I could have gotten the math homework done by now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you sweetheart because i wanted to be closer

YOU closer than a foot?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re the one being difficult now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i wanted to be closer than friends

You set your phone down with a thud. You half-expected his text, but the other half of you feels giddy with surprise seeing the message. This time, when you look at him, he’s not looking at you. In fact, his eyes are trained on his phone screen, and you can see a faint redness in his cheeks.

You tap his shoulder to get his attention. He doesn’t respond. You tap him again. He still doesn’t move an inch. You look back down at the conversation. You squint your eyes at the screen. Wait a second.

YOU wanted?

You look back at him. He finally looks back up at you. The second your eyes meet, he looks back at his phone. The text bubble appears, then disappears.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ *want

You try to fight it, but you can’t help but grinning. You pinch him and he yelps, attracting the attention of your teacher. You put on your best goody-two-shoes smile and he looks away.

“You like me?” you whisper. “Hey, Keeho, you in there?” You tap him again. He remains still.

You sit back in your seat.

YOU never thought I’d see the day where Yoon Keeho was rendered speechless

YOU especially by little old me

YOU also Keeho if you’re not gonna let me speak to you, why’d you tell me?

He doesn’t text his response. He, instead, decides to finally look you in the eye.

You look at your teacher and look back at Keeho.

You can’t say it, because it’d be horribly embarrassing for your teacher to hear, so you instead mouth the words.

“I like you too,” a voice rings out, and it’s not your own.

You look at the direction it came from and notice your math teacher grimacing.

“Guys, come on. You’re not subtle; you text kind of loudly. But it’s nice that you guys have sorted out whatever your feelings are. I hope this means you’ll stop interrupting my class with your… conversations.”

You feel like dissolving right then and there. You look at Keeho, and he looks as mortified as you are.

“You know what? You guys are my best students anyway, get out of here and have your teenage fun, I don’t know. I won’t put the detention on your transcripts. I didn’t have the best day today and you kids having your conversation in the middle of one of the harder concepts in the class was kind of the icing on the cake. Sorry for taking it out on you. I’ll give you free As on the next pop quiz. Not like you wouldn’t get them anyway.”

He smiles at you both — a genuine one this time — and waves.

You immediately start packing and head out.

You start walking to the front of the school when a hand tugs you back. You bump into Keeho, who looks down at you with his signature smirk. You turn around to properly face him.

“So…. you like me? At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” He shrugs, a playful look in his eyes.

“This coming from the one who… what was it? Wanted to be close enough to me to call me sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, stepping towards you. “You got it right.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes. “I’d say you’re pretty close. Much closer than a foot.”

He throws his head back and laughs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re so annoying,” he sighs. He leans in, and suddenly, he’s as close as he can possibly be, lips on yours.

#keeho x reader #yoon keeho x reader #yoon keeho #keeho #keeho imagines #keeho fluff #keeho scenarios #p1harmony #p1harmony fics #p1harmony blurb #keeho blurb #p1h #gonna be so fr w/ u rn idek keeho that well #my friend just rlly wanted a fic for him

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amhrosina · 1 year

Text

I Heard Love is Blind (Matt Murdock x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: Soooo sorry this took so long. I’ve taken the last week off from writing to travel for the holidays. As for this fic, I’m well aware that this isn’t how visual impairment typically works but being that I’m writing in a universe where superheroes exist, I’m asking y’all to suspend your beliefs for a few minutes. The end of this fic was just a little fun idea that I had as I was writing it. It's short and sweet (around 1.3k words). I hope y’all enjoy!

Request: Hello! So, the reader is becomes blind because of a disease or something... whatever... and she in hospital room with matt with her, then doctor comes and tells them she cannot be able to see ever again. She doesn't want to cry while matt is there because she thinks he can be offended or something, but she cannot help herself and matt tries to comfort her? What do you say?

Summary: Matt helps you sort through your feelings after you have an accident and lose your sight. You struggle with opening up to him fully because you don’t want to hurt him.

(Warnings: female!reader, references to (but no detail of) an accident, newly visually impaired reader, angst, soft!matty, protective!matty, references to a possible female daredevil towards the end)

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was an accident, really, but the overwhelming feeling of dread hadn’t left your system since you’d been hoisted into the ambulance that brought you to the hospital. Matt was right behind you, of course, arriving at the E.R. entrance at the same time you did, lurking in the corner of the hospital room as doctor after doctor examined you.

You couldn’t help but jump when a new set of hands began to poke and prod around your eyes. You couldn’t see them, hadn’t been able to see anything since the accident, and they didn’t announce themselves. Or maybe they did, and you weren’t listening. You didn’t know. The world around you had become a blur of noises, an overwhelming rush of sensory overload that you were too exhausted to try and figure out.

Your name had been murmured by countless doctors, but your ability to respond was muted by the pounding of your heart in your ears. A firm, warm hand rested on your shoulder, and Matt’s cologne wafted into your nose. The outside world once again became background noise as Matt lightly squeezed your shoulder. You had the sudden urge to giggle at how backwards this predicament was. Normally, it was you grounding him when the noise became too much to bear. Now, he was fulfilling your position – providing a distraction to focus on until everything – the world, it’s chaos – settled.

“No pupillary response.” One doctor muttered in a melancholy, but professional tone. The scribble of a pen on paper sent goosebumps down your spine.

When the words “possible permanent blindness” passed through hushed whispers around the room, you didn’t flinch, all too aware of the blind man you’d fallen in love with sensing your every move. Your lack of reaction was cause for concern from everyone in the room, most of all Matt, who hadn’t uttered a word since the accident.

“Can she have a second?” He murmured softly, ushering the nurses and doctors out of the room faster than should’ve been possible. He always did have a way of making people do what he wanted them to do, though you didn’t think he was aware of the effect he had on people. Not completely, at least.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in your ears, and you got the sense that every bad feeling you’d been ignoring since this began was about to force its way out of you. Matt’s sigh as he sat down next to you snapped you out of it, and you blinked away the tears that had begun forming.

It wasn’t fair to cry over this in front of him. You shouldn’t be mourning the loss of something he had lived without since he was a kid. Not in front of him, at least.

“You’re handling all this remarkably well. Better than I did.”

Matt didn’t say this with malice or malcontent. Rather, an astute observation on his part. Almost entirely lawyerly if you had to pinpoint his tone.

“You were nine, Matt, and we don’t know that it’s permanent.” You muttered, the first words you’d spoken since you’d lost the ability to see.

“Still.” You felt him shrug. You reached out your hand, feeling around the sheets until your fingers met the skin of his wrist. He didn’t miss a beat, intertwining his fingers with yours as soon as your skin met his. He lifted your hand, planting a small kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re allowed to be upset about this.” He mumbled against your hand. “I can feel the energy in you. Let it out, sweetheart.”

“Matty, I can’t just– It’s not fair to you that I– It wouldn’t be right.” You groaned, blinking back the fresh wave of tears trying to force their way out of your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Even if it’s not permanent, this is still a big change for you. You’re allowed to mourn this.”

A few tears escaped as he spoke, and the only thing keeping you from furiously wiping them away was Matt’s hand, already there, softly stroking your cheek as you tried your hardest not to fall apart in his hands.

“What if it is?” You mumbled, sniffling.

“What if it’s what?” He asked, ghosting over your eyelids with his thumb.

“What if it’s permanent, Matty?” You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Furious tears cascaded down your face, and you let out an ugly sob as you revealed the horrible thoughts you’d been trying so hard to hide.

Matt allowed you to sob into his chest, cradling you against him as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. His dress shirt, the one you loved so much, the one he wore to work today because you wanted to see him in it, was soaked with tears before he finally spoke.

“It’s not fair that you’re going through this, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could change it. But I know you can handle it, okay? You’re strong enough to do this, and you’ll have help. We’ll figure it out, baby.”

You nodded into his chest, unable to form a coherent sentence in response.

“Sweet girl,” Matt cooed, kissing your hair, “You don’t have to hide how you’re feeling from me, ever, okay? I know it’s frustrating – trust me, I know better than anyone what you’re going through right now – but it does get easier. I promise.”

You wiped the tears from your face, careful to avoid your eyes. Goosebumps bristled on the back of your neck when the sound of a car horn loudly echoed in your ears. You couldn’t keep your hands from clamping over the sides of your head in response.

“The world is so loud, Matt. I don’t know how you handle it all the time.”

Matt lifted your hand to his face so you could feel the indents of his cheek as he smiled.

“You get used to the noises after a while. They become a sort of…white noise, I guess you could call it. Is the beeping of the heart monitor bothering you?”

“No, it’s the cars. This city is so loud.”

Matt stiffened, tightening his grip on your hand.

“What do you mean?” He asked, breathing into your palm.

Another loud honk blared in your head, and you couldn’t stop your body from cringing into a ball.

“Don’t tell me you can’t hear that.” You mumbled, shaking your head to try and rid the echo of the horns from your ears.

“No, I can hear it. How are you hearing it? We’re on the 18th floor.”

“What?”

It was your turn to stiffen. You didn’t quite understand the curiosity in Matt’s tone. You weren’t entirely sure you believed what he might be implying. You cocked your head to the side, mimicking the thing you’d seen Matt do a million times when he was trying to follow a specific noise, and focused your attention on Matt.

He was at least a foot away from you now, pacing across the floor. You couldn’t figure out how you knew he was pacing. You focused on the way his shoes tapped on the linoleum floor, the way his hands fiddled with his cane, tightening and untightening in a rhythmic dance, the way his heart was pounding in his chest, even though there was no possible way you could actually be hearing his heartbeat from this far away.

“Matty…” You murmured, lifting your hand from its place in your lap and reaching towards him.

“Yes, dove?” He asked, clearing his throat. He was closer to you now, and for the first time since your vision had gone, you weren’t surprised when his hand grasped yours. It was eerie, knowing where he was even though you couldn’t physically see him in front of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, tightening your grip on his hand. He reached his other hand towards you, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone in a soothing motion.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but we’re going to figure it out, okay?” You nodded, leaning your head into his hand. “Okay, Matty.”

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astrumocs · 3 months

Text

Familial Founding

Setting: Past, Odarem’s Hive (Currently Achlys’s, in the drabble) Characters: Achlys Mortis (The Deadstep) & Odarem Mortis

-- Google Docs Link --

Achlys nibbles at the end of his pen, brows pinched together in thought as he sits at his desk, running through another hour of scribbled ideas and thoughts alone in his hive. Well, apart from his lusus typically, but the creature was often left to its own devices and had already hurried off an hour ago. This naturally escaped the older man's notice entirely.

He found himself in this state for longer than he could possibly count, his mind wandering from what he’d been mulling over originally several times by now, while his tail flicked behind him in thought.

No doubts were to be had that if left to his own devices, he may have forgotten to eat that morning's dinner on top of it all. Normally, his lusus would nudge him, remind him he needed to take care of himself and that his work could wait, but the beast was still absent, and that absence went unnoticed.

That is until he felt the scaly nudge of his lusus’s muzzle against his hand, followed by a strange… chirp? Trill? Stunned out of his focus by the oddly familiar, but unusual sounds, Achlys turned his head to look down at his custodian, holding a grub gently in his mouth.

Ah, well that’s unusual, but it could wait, he thinks to himself, looking back to his journal. He suddenly blinks a few seconds later, eyes wide as saucers as he turns back to his lusus with a start, “Ohhh no- no no, what is this?? Why did you bring this here? You know how I was at the caverns, you need to go put that back-”

But then, the colors on the grub click… and so do the familiar horns, as so very little as they are, and the tail with its feathers, the white streak in the hair, and those familiar heterochromatic eyes. Achlys can’t help but soften a little, realizing that it wasn’t simply any stray grub that had found it's way into his home, but in fact, it was his very own descendant.

Still, he can’t help but give an exasperated look at his custodian, “What do you expect me to do with it, huh..?”

The lusus makes a muffled, but excited screech, and the grub in his mouth wriggles as a result of the sound, chirping again. Achlys sighs deeply, pinching the bridge between his brows, before looking back at the duo.

“You are going to have to do the heavy lifting here, you know that? And if something goes wrong, gods forbid, I don’t want you to get snappy with me. Got that?”

As if it counts for an agreement, the dinosaur lusus places the grub into his original charges’ lap, before trotting off to take a well-earned nap.

The cusp blood tenses, nervous about handling such a fragile creature- and his descendant, no less. As soon as it settles into his lap, however, the grub looks up at him for a moment as though studying him, before curling up and covering its face with its tail to sleep, just as their lusus had.

Achlys hesitated a moment, before lifting a gloved hand and gently stroking the small feathers, the grub purring gently beneath the touch. He was unable to help his little smile at the sound, feeling fond of his new family member already.

Looking down at it thoughtfully, he bit his lip in thought, “You’re going to need a name, aren’t you, little Mortis?”

The young Mortis didn’t respond, obviously, not understanding what he was saying and far too tired from the trip to make a fuss about anything. Achlys hummed, leaning back in his chair and letting his gaze find the ceiling for a few minutes before his dual-colored gaze flicked downward, “Hm… Odarem?”

The grub rustled its feathers, most likely in an adjustment and not in acknowledgment, but Achlys grinned, even as his voice remained soft, so as not to disturb the young Mortis, “Odarem it is then, hm? Maybe since I named you so quickly, you won’t get stuck in your head all the time like your old man.”

The grub- Odarem- simply purred a little louder, nestling into Achlys’s palms. The man chuckled a little, “Alright then, I guess we’ll stay like this for a while.”

And with that, he leans his head back once more, eyes closing slowly to get some rest alongside the other members of his family in the encroaching early morning hours.

#my writing #deadstep ic #odarem ic #it's not too long i dont think and it's not super polished but it was fun to write #okay i hope you guys like this drabble abt 1 guy you know and 1 you don't #crawls away #do i tag this as m y art too idk..#my art

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maple-the-awesome · 6 months

Text

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 31

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 2,745

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER THIRITY-ONE: READ THE ROOM

If you had known it would have resulted in you having to work with Bucky and Zemo, you would've never opened your door for Sam. Despite how civil you're trying your best to be, a part of you wants to slap them both for different reasons, although if thinking more rationally, Bucky's only crime against you is breaking your heart by turning his back and walking away without so much as a goodbye. Zemo, on the other hand, tried to frame Bucky for the UN Bombing, traumatized your nephew by showing him a recording of his own parents' brutal deaths, and ultimately tore the Avengers inside-out. Needless to say, you're having a really difficult time so much as glancing at Zemo's smug face without wanting to fulfill your previous promise to break his nose, and it's not like he's doing much to save himself from receiving that fate either.

"So, what's with the frosty air between you two, hmm?" He gestures between Bucky and you with the champagne glass his butler hands him, his eyes flashing with mischief as he takes a drink, "Now that I think about it, I don't believe I've seen you say a word to each other this entire time. It would be a shame if you've broken up. You were quite the 'couple' last we crossed paths."

You do your best not to give him the satisfaction of your attention, continuing to watch out the jet window instead while spinning your ring which is the only distraction you unfortunately have during this long flight. While you may hide it well, it does hurt to know Zemo's words hold truth. Bucky has barely said a damn word to you since the apartment, purposefully going out of his way to avoid even addressing your presence despite being on this whole mission together. Hell, so far he's been more willing to respond to the criminal who terrorized him than the person who used to be his fiancée...Did you really hurt him that bad to somehow be worse than Zemo?

"Where are you taking us?" Thank God for Sam who has proven himself to be the only person on this trip you can stand to be around. Reading the jet's rigid energy, he's quick to try changing the topic, yet Zemo refuses to address his question right away, taking his time setting down his drink in exchange for picking up the book that has been balancing on his lap.

"...Sorry -" He 'innocently' pretends to have only just heard Sam, "- I was just fascinated by this. A lot of it's scribbled out, although it seems to be an important letter; a heartfelt one, from what I can make out. 'Holiday Edwardine -"

By the time you zoned in to your name being mentioned, it was instantly cut off by two steps - two heavy footsteps before Zemo was suddenly pinned back against his chair, his neck trapped in Bucky's gloved hand which doesn't show much restraint with its iron grip.

"Touch that again and I kill you," Bucky's voice is a whispered threat, yet still heard throughout the dead silent jet as no one does or says anything about his unexpectedly aggressive behavior. Even Zemo only responds with a short nod and a quiet gasp for air once Bucky finally removes his hand, allowing him to breathe easy once again.

Ripping the small notebook from his hands, Bucky shares a quick glance at the shocked expressions Sam and you wear before returning to his seat wordlessly. You follow his movements, watching as he awkwardly pushes the notebook back into his coat pocket while shifting his head towards the window as if he can feel your burning stare.

Zemo clears his throat, giving off a tone that some might believe to be genuine, although it loses its effect on all of you, "I'm sorry. I understand that was the name of your late wife. As for the list of names on the other pages - people who you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."

"Don't push your luck," Bucky grumbles, again shifting in his seat as if doing so will somehow get him further away from this situation.

You want to ask - to reach your hand out for his and gently question what's wrong. You knew Bucky must still struggle with parts of his part, so you're not surprised that the Winter Soldier's victims would remain on his mind, but Hollie as well? He should realize by now that you don't blame him; you've insisted it enough times. He knows you're alive and well in this life, so he doesn't have to let any guilt about what happened weigh him down...but you keep your hands to yourself instead of saying a word of it aloud, looking down at your lap as you decide it isn't your place to press anymore, after all Bucky made himself quite clear earlier that he doesn't want you worrying about him.

"...I'veseen that book before. It was Steve's. When I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Have you listened to it? You like it?" Sam breaks the silence, once again trying to turn the conversation towards one he hopes won't start a fight. Little did he know that he'd be the one to partake in the next bickering session because of it, not convinced by Bucky's claims that he 'liked' the soundtrack. Even Zemo would agree with Sam that it's a masterpiece, yet that would be the extent of their common ground.

"You must have really looked up to Steve," Zemo takes the conversation away from movies and music, deciding to tip-toe over the line of what's acceptable to say and what will get him punched, "I realized something when I met him for myself - that the danger with people like him is the very way we put them on pedestals, idolizing them as storybook heroes and symbols of hope until we become blind to their flaws. From there, wars begin, cities fall, innocent people lose their lives...You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad 'icon'? Now, do we really want to live in a world full of people like Red Skull?"

"Steve was a pretty far cry from Red Skull, though," You point out, speaking for the first time since boarding this jet which brings Zemo's attention from Bucky to you, "Let's not forget that super soldiers aren't inherently corrupt. You can see it anywhere with shitty people being given power useful for their own benefit. It doesn't necessarily take super powers, just an escape from accountability that goes to your head. That's why Steve was so carefully chosen - Why Dr. Erskine didn't simply hand off the serum to the first fit soldier to cross his path. He picked the little guy from Brooklynn because he knew that's who would fight for what's right, not for his own interests."

"And I couldn't agree more. Steve Rogers was a unique exception, but how many people are you willingly to bet will follow in his footsteps? Certainly not those 'Flag-Smashers', I would think," He has a point you can't argue against. Steve and Bucky are good people who didn't let their superhuman abilities change that, and while you're sure there are more people like that out there, it isn't safe to just cross your fingers hoping they'll be the ones who come across any super soldier serum circling the globe unmanaged, "That's why we're going to Madripoor."

"Yeah, I have some questions about that. What's exactly the deal with Madripoor? You keep talking about it like it's Skull Island or something," Sam asks.

"It's an island in the Indonesian archipelago. In the 1800s, it was known as a pirate sanctuary," Bucky explains distantly.

"But it's kept its lawless ways since, which means we can't simply walk in as ourselves. Three people associated with the Avengers would only cause unwanted attention, perhaps a few bullets sent our way," Zemo swirls his champagne glass in hand as he eyes Sam and you, "You both will be easy enough to conceal, although I'm afraid James will have to become someone he claims to be gone."

You glance at Bucky who stiffens, only sparing a quick glare at Zemo then back out the window. You can't say the idea sits well with you either...

When Zemo said Madripoor is 'lawless', you expected something like Hell’s Kitchen or Detroit, but this is far, far worse. The streets are literally packed with crime, every corner having someone who casually stands around with a large gun in hand while every shop specializes in illegal goods. A few steps out of the car and you felt as if you had just walked straight into a GTA game on steroids except unlike a video game, none of you have extra lives to spare - Well, you might, but you're not quite willing to part with this one just yet.

To avoid looking suspicious and getting shot for doing so, you have to put full faith in Zemo's plan, something you never thought you'd have to do ever. Admittedly he seems to know what he’s doing, although you would complain that he's being a little too cheerful while doing it. Not once did he flinch when all eyes focused upon your group as you entered the Brass Monkey Saloon nor did he hesitate to introduce Sam to the bartender under his temporary identity as 'Smiling Tiger'.

You feel for Sam, especially when forced to choke down a drink made of the fresh insides of a snake, however your pity must wait until later because you have your own role to strictly stick to here. A humble and forgettable assistant, you're to remain silent yet observant while accomplishing whatever small tasks are ordered of you (not that you plan on doing any more for Zemo than required for this act). It’s annoying, but easier than drinking snake guts, so you're not about to complain.

You had noticed when entering the saloon that several patrons have taken special interest in Bucky, their whispers once again meeting your ear as you wait for Sam to gain the courage to finish his drink, however you try not to concern yourself with. In any other environment, you'd be ready to pick a fight with anyone bold enough to start gossiping about the 'infamous Winter Soldier's' presence, but here and for this mission, Bucky's past is exactly what you need people to pay attention to.

You can hear Sam gag quietly after the bartender finally walks away, hopefully to set up a meeting with this 'Selby' person Zemo says can provide you guys with information. In the meantime, you look up and manage to catch Bucky's eyes only briefly before they dart back to watch the other patrons. You roll your own eyes and find somewhere else to look since even undercover in a crowded bar, it seems he can still find time to be mad at you.

Suddenly, Bucky stands straighter and grabs your wrist, giving it a slight tug that moves you subtly in his direction. You would've wondered why if not for immediately feeling the presence of someone else walking up behind you. Turning around, you find a man has squeezed his way out of the crowd to where he now stands practically toe-to-toe with Zemo.

"Got word from higher up. You ain't welcome here," The man threatens, although despite his attempt at intimation, Zemo hardly does more than blink.

"I didn't come here for business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come to talk to me..." With a smug undertone to his voice, Zemo trails off while gesturing to Bucky who has already let go of your wrist, but only in exchange for having a hidden hand hovered over your hip to keep you close in front of him, "...Or bring Selby by for a chat."

The man seems to size Bucky up, and since you’re standing between them, it feels as if he’s also looking you over, however if he wonders who you might be or notices that the ‘Winter Soldier’ seems awfully protective over you, it goes unsaid. Sparing one last hostile look at Zemo, the man disappears back into the crowd, allowing you to let go of that breath you’ve been holding and for Bucky to remove his hand, "'Power Broker'? Really?"

"Every kingdom needs its king."

Surveyingthe crowd, you notice several men beginning to slowly surround your group. You keep your eyes trained on them, your hand cautiously lowering to your belt where you keep the taser you had stubbornly refused to part with earlier. Whether he saw the concern on your face or sensed the approaching goons for himself, Zemo pushes off the counter and locks eyes with Bucky, "Zimniy Soldat…Ataka."

Just as one of the men places a heavy hand upon Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky swiftly pushes you behind him before grabbing the man’s hand, twisting it until it snaps, but he doesn’t let go, instead forcing him to walk backwards until at the center of the room. There, Bucky goes head-to-head with him and all his little buddies who decide they might actually stand a chance against a super soldier.

If anyone hadn’t been paying attention to your group before, they’re definitely not missing the show now. The crowd watches in awe as Bucky easily beats every fool who swings a punch his way, doing so with little emotion written over his face; the complete opposite of how Sam and you observe the chaotic scene in front of you.

"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form, did it?" Zemo leans over to whisper to you, his comment being one that will boil your blood if you think back to it later, but for now, you’re too focused on Bucky.

You can hardly stand seeing him fight as the Winter Soldier like this, even if it’s just pretend. He can handle himself, you know that. He’s within control and doing this of his own volition, but that doesn't mean he should have to. You know this is hurting him inside, only serving as a cruel reminder for what he once was. It’s torture to see and recognize that hidden pain in his eyes as he slams one of the men onto the bar counter, keeping him trapped there all by the strength of a single hand crushing his throat. You might not be a mind reader, but you can guess what’s going through Bucky’s right now: how many people has he done this to without control or mercy? How many people has he actually killed using the same method?

Sam also shows his concern over how far this has suddenly gone, especially when the echo of guns’ cocking becomes impossible to dismiss. He places a hand on Bucky’s arm, however he’s called off by Zemo who’s quick to remind you both through whispered breath about the risks of losing character now.

“Molodets, soldat.”

Selby will finally see you. Your efforts of concealing your identities and that little ‘show’ Bucky put on has won you another step towards finding the super soldier serum. That should be a good thing that takes some stress off your shoulders, but it doesn’t.

Bucky’s expression is frozen in a blank stare, his movements almost automatic as he simply lets go of the man and lets him slide off the counter. Somehow his breath is louder in your ears than the mumbling of the captivated crowd - a crowd you almost completely forget about.

“...Hey, you okay -?” You whisper, reaching to touch his arm as has always been habit for you, however you instantly retract your hand when Bucky jerks away, his eyes once again only briefly meeting yours - this time with an emotion you can’t quite put a name to - before he roughly pushes by to follow Zemo.

Your hand feels stuck in the air until you awkwardly lower it and bite your frowned lip. There’s a burning in your eyes and an aching to your soul, one you fear might become too obvious if you let yourself dwell on it for too long, so you suck it up and trail after the others all while bitterly electing to ignore the way Sam watches you sympathetically in your peripheral vision. You're thankful he can’t ask with everyone else around. It’ll hurt less if you just don’t think about it.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

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whollyfree · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothing

Summary – singer!reader writes a song about jake Pairings – Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count – ~800

Warnings – literally just pure fluff idk what else to say

You and Jake’s relationship was a secret to the world.

In your own small bubble, you found the happiness you never thought you could find with him by your side. Of course, both of your friends and family knew, but the safety net of keeping things private was pertinent to you. You felt safe with this; that you didn't have to show this dear and precious side of your life to the world.

That being said, vulnerability wasn’t necessarily your strong suit, but ever since you fell in love with Jake, you found yourself taking baby steps into the path of this new journey. You felt safe with him; that you could tell him anything without judgment and he would continue to love you for exactly who you are.

Soon enough, this leap of faith took on a life of its own into your music. And as Jake found himself traveling up toward his bedroom, you assured him you would only be a few more minutes, having kept yourself busy with the new project in front of you.

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

“Now this is supposed to be the other way around,” Jake’s voice was quiet against you, a soft smile gracing his features as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You smiled, leaning against him as his head found a spot in between your neck and your left shoulder.

It was normally you pulling Jake’s hand away from his pen and paper to join you into bed, but tonight it was different. He knew you didn’t typically bring your work home with you (or at least tried not to), so this must be something special.

It had been nearly an hour since you told him you would only be a few more minutes, but you were so lost in your own work and the emotions he brought from you to pour into a song that you almost didn’t want to leave the piano.

“Do you remember when we went to Ireland over the summer?” You ask and he hums in agreement, moving your hair behind your shoulder to place a gentle kiss to the side of your throat.

You fight back a giggle. “And we went to Wicklow,” another kiss higher and a hum. “And we brought home that pebble?” He plants a kiss just below your ear and you laugh. He hums again to respond.

“Well,” you turn your head slightly. “I put it in a song.”

You feel him pull away and meet your eyes with a look of confusion. Drowsiness was evident on his features as his robe hung loosely off of him.

“Writing songs about pebbles…I’d say that’s a new creative direction for you, sweetheart.” He chuckles, his tanned chest catching the light from the piano lamp and you laugh in response.

“No,” you fight back more laughter before looking back at him. “It’s about you.”

Jake’s expression changes into a look of pure love and adoration; the look that was only reserved for you. His heart filled with butterflies as he took in the sight of you. Here you were, the one person he loved most in this world, sat at his piano in his house who wrote a song about him.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

“Well, what about me, angel?” Jake’s smile hasn’t left his lips as he looks onto the lyrics you scribbled onto the journal in front of you.

“I wrote a poem on our way home-”

“Mm, the one you never let me read.”

You smile, “that’s the one,” he grins again, his teeth gracing his lips. “It’s about how I feel when I’m with you. How you just want me for who I am, nothing else.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear form in his eye under the light as his smile faded into something much softer. His eyes stayed glued to yours, and you could see the words forming in his head before speaking. He wanted to express his gratitude in the most eloquent way he possibly could for you.

“You’re all I’ll ever want,” his voice is nearly a whisper. “I wouldn’t trade anything for this heaven of a life I have with you.”

Now it was your turn for tears to form as you smiled back. Jake leans in using his thumb and index finger to pull you into a tender kiss. You felt everything from that action alone; all of the love possible just from one gentle feeling of his lips on yours.

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

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renren-006 · 11 months

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The thought keeping my mind running at the moment is a Sierra Six x Sierra Seven blurb/quick one shot that's these two internationally known killers/spies/however we want to categorize them who can take out anyone flawlessly with no trace struggling to help Claire on some algebra homework or something. Like imagine these two trying to figure out how SAT prep works and how to use the quadratic formula, because I'm pretty sure there would be more frustration and absolutely confusion shared between the two of them than in this little teenagers mind.

Homework Problems | Sierra Seven x F! Reader

Word Count: 955 A/N: I really hope you like it! feel free to send me any request for myre Sierra Six stories id love to write them!!!

You were an international spy, not many things puzzled you. Today was when you learned that math was the one thing that would puzzle you. As you sat at the kitchen table next to Claire the numbers scribbled on the page were like a foreign language to you, and you knew many.

“This...Claire what the hell is this” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together. Claire looked up at you with the most amused look on her face.

“Seven, this is...this is math,” Claire said, giving you a questioning look, “you do know..”

“Yes, i know what math is...I just haven't done it in a very long time”

“So you don't calculate an angle before you shoot?” Claire asked.

“Claire be honest with me, do I look like I calculate things,” You asked. Claire thought for a moment before responding. “When it comes to Six, yes,” She told you, glancing outside to the x-spy patiently waiting in the yard for Claire's dog, Fitz, to go to the bathroom.

“Besides Six,” I asked her, still looking back at the puzzling numbers on the page.

“Umm I don't know, I mean when you and Six saved me it seemed like you did,” she told you, referring to the time you saved her and shot a guy just by looking into a mirror. You shook your head.

“Honestly Claire Its muscle memory now, I fight because I know how to fight, this domestic life it’s different, its a new thing ill have to learn,” You told her honestly, “But this, me you, and Six that I know how to do that, but math and homework and school its all-new”

“I know,” She told you, “Thank you for being here for me”

“oh sweetheart, of course, I'm uh your mom now so I have got to take care of my family, and don't think Six doesn't check the house three times before we go to bed, just to make sure you safe,” You told her, “Now, tell me how to do this math”

“Well it's for this test called the SAT and I have to like solve it and find the answer” Claire explained after the smile left her face.

“Textbook?” you asked. Claire nodded her head.

“I have one” She exclaimed.

"Why don't you grab it,” You told her calmly

“Right,” She said and marched off to her room to find the math textbook.

“Six?” You asked, Six strutted over to you his face lazy and he finally looked calm. "Yes," he answered, a questioning look on his face.

“Do you know algebra?” You asked.

“Not really, haven't done that in a few years,” Six said.

“Well, Claire is studying for..the SAT I think and I have no idea what math is involved with it,” You told him. Six scratched his head.

“Shit i knew this was something we would have to do” He said.

“And this just slipped your mind?” You asked, He nodded.

“I was going to mention it but she never came to us...” Six replied a hand ran over his face and an exaggerated sigh left his lips.

“Wait, you're telling me, essentially our daughter didn't come to us for homework help?” You asked, “We are failing as parents Court,” You said.

"Hey, y/n we are doing perfectly well under these....did you just say, parents?" He asked you.

"Well, I mean yea? Look at us Court? I care about Claire so much and all I want is a normal life for her and to not have to look over my shoulder anymore." you told him.

"I want that too," he said pulling you in. "Now, let's try and figure out these math homework things so that we can better help her," he said laughing and pulling away. Claire re-entered the room, with a knowing and happy look as she sat between the two of you.

"Now I have to solve this thing called the quadratic formula," Clair said flipping to the page with the unknown language you still wouldn't decipher.

"what the....Claire do you want my head to explode?" you asked her.

"haha I don't think Seven can comprehend math," Court said, laughing with Claire.

"And you can?" you ased your counter part.

"...no," he said, the silence before his answer made Clair bust out even more in laughter having tears spill from her eyes.

"Omg if I had known asking my parents to help with math would lead to none of us knowing I would have just gone to get tutoring," she said in between bursts of laughter.

"I'm sorry kiddo, I mean really I don't remember much math from that far back," you said, thinking back to the years when you were her age. You had been convicted of arson before graduating and math was the last thing on your mind in prison. You had met Court not too long afterward being around 20 or so, and math was the last thing on your mind at the academy.

"y and b.....wait why the hell are there letters I thought math was all numbers and shit?" Court asked Claire breaking you from your thoughts.

"oh...yea I guess they have letters as substitutes for numbers"

"that is not logical," Court said, he pushed the book away with a grumble, "You said you could go to tutoring?"

"Yea they have a tutoring center at school," she said.

"I think they will be better helped than us with this...quadrophonic equation shit"

"It's quadratic," she said snarkily.

"Whatever, it's bullshit," Court said with a grumble.

"Okay why don't we stop with math and move on to something else," you said directing the conversation away from the frustrations of math.

#sierra six x you #sierra six x reader #sierra six #claire #The Grey Man #the grey man fan fiction #I love Ryan Gosling #ryan gosling #court gentry #court gentry x reader

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