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moon3verland · 18 days ago

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Winning You Back N.RK

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳Bad boy!Nishimura Riki x Fem!Reader ✎GENRE! Angst with happy ending ✎SYNOPSIS! 〘WC:5.5k〙『 ↳✧･ﾟ Warnings ; moderate use of profanity,Underage drinking ↳˳;; ❝ ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱʜᴇʟꜰᵕ̈೫

Riki Nishimura leaned casually against his motorcycle, the roar of the engine still reverberating in the dimly lit alleyway. The night was alive with the low rumble of laughter, the hum of conversations, and the thick smell of gasoline and burnt rubber. This was his world—the underground racing scene—a space where the rules didn’t matter and every risk was worth the reward. It was here, under the flickering streetlights and the cover of night, that he felt most alive. More Undercut

Riki’s leather jacket clung tightly to his lean frame, his tousled hair falling over his eyes with a careless elegance. His posture screamed rebellion, the way he leaned back with an easy grin, exuding a confidence that came from winning races and never looking back. The streets were his domain, his playground. Here, he didn’t have to pretend or fit into a mold. Here, he could just be.

But away from the intoxicating rush of the race tracks, his life was far from glamorous. At home, his reality was a far cry from the freedom he felt on his bike. Riki’s apartment was a tiny, cluttered mess—an explosion of takeout boxes, crumpled clothes, and motorcycle parts strewn across the floor. The walls were thin, and the hum of city life outside was a constant reminder of the life he couldn’t escape. His mother worked double shifts at a local diner, often coming home too tired to even speak, leaving Riki to fend for himself most of the time. It was a lonely existence, one that pushed him further into the arms of his motorcycle and the reckless abandon of racing.

Tonight, as he lingered in the shadows of the alley, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a message from Minho, his closest friend and fellow racer.

Message from Minho: “Tonight’s race is going to be wild. You in?”

A grin spread across Riki’s face. His fingers flew across the screen.

Riki: “Count me in. Let’s make it unforgettable.”

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he took a deep breath, relishing the familiar surge of adrenaline. This was where he belonged, not in a cramped apartment with walls that felt like they were closing in on him, but here, where the night stretched out like a canvas waiting to be painted with speed and danger.

He hopped on his motorcycle, revving the engine. The crowd parted for him as he rode toward the makeshift racetrack—an abandoned strip of road lit by neon lights and surrounded by eager spectators. The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of oil and asphalt mingling in a way that made his pulse race.

Minho was already waiting for him, leaning against a rusted car with a mischievous grin on his face. “Riki! Just in time,” he called out over the noise. “New challenger tonight. You ready to show them who’s boss?”

Riki nodded, his smirk widening. “Always ready.”

But just as he was about to mount his bike, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from an unknown number. He glanced down, his brows furrowing slightly.

Message from Unknown: “You think you’re untouchable? Prove it. Date the student council president for a month, and you win. Fail, and you’re out of the gang.”

Riki’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. He read the message again, a slow grin spreading across his face. A bet. Not just any bet, but one that involved (Name), the picture-perfect student council president. He’d seen her around—always so put together, always so in control. She was the exact opposite of everything he represented, and that made the challenge all the more intriguing.

“Who sent this?” Riki wondered, glancing around at the faces in the crowd. He had his suspicions, but it didn’t matter. A bet was a bet, and he never backed down from a challenge.

Minho’s voice cut through his thoughts. “What’s that?” he asked, noticing the flicker of curiosity in Riki’s eyes.

Riki slipped the phone back into his pocket, his expression returning to its usual confidence. “Just something interesting,” he replied vaguely. “I think I’ll have a little fun.”

The race went on, and Riki dominated the track, his bike weaving in and out with an ease that came from years of practice. But even as he crossed the finish line, his mind was elsewhere—already plotting his next move.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next morning, the school was buzzing with its usual energy. Students filled the hallways, moving in every direction, clutching books and murmuring about their assignments and social plans. At the center of it all was (Name), the school’s student council president, moving with purpose and grace. She was known for her impeccable academic record, her commitment to the school, and her kind, approachable demeanor. She was a natural leader—someone who commanded respect without demanding it.

Riki watched her from a distance, leaning against the lockers with a nonchalant posture, his leather jacket still clinging to his shoulders like a second skin. He didn’t often come to school on time—if at all—but today was different. He had a new goal in mind.

He pushed himself off the lockers and sauntered over to where she stood, talking with a group of student council members. He waited until there was a lull in the conversation before making his move.

“Hey, (Name),” he greeted, his voice smooth and confident.

She turned to him, surprise flashing in her eyes for a moment. “Riki?” she replied, eyebrows raised. “What are you doing here so early?”

Riki chuckled. “Can’t a guy come to school on time once in a while without raising suspicion?”

She smiled politely, but there was a cautious edge to her gaze. “Sure, but you don’t strike me as the type to care much about school rules.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying something new. Besides, I heard you’re pretty good at keeping people in line. Thought I’d see for myself.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I’m not here to keep anyone in line, just to help where I can.”

“Well,” he said, leaning in slightly, “I could use some help with something. How about we go out for coffee, and you can tell me all about what makes you tick?”

She hesitated, caught off guard by his directness. “I don’t know… I’m pretty busy with student council and everything.”

He flashed a charming smile. “Come on, it’s just coffee. What’s the harm?”

There was a beat of silence, and then she nodded, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “Okay, fine. But just coffee.”

Riki’s grin widened. “Deal.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The coffee shop was bustling with activity, the low hum of chatter blending with the hiss of the espresso machine. Warm light spilled from the overhead fixtures, casting a golden hue over the worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet pastries filled the air, creating a cozy atmosphere that seemed worlds away from the school halls.

Riki leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving (Name) as she sipped her drink—a caramel macchiato with extra foam, a detail he’d noticed after just a few meetings. She was smiling, but there was a hint of something beneath it, like she was constantly measuring him, trying to figure him out. He couldn’t help but feel amused by it; most people didn’t bother trying to look past his exterior.

“So, what’s it like being the student council president?” he asked, swirling his black coffee absentmindedly. He didn't usually drink it like this—he preferred something stronger, something with more kick—but today felt different. He wanted to seem… approachable.

“It’s a lot of work,” (Name) replied, her smile warm but practiced. “But I enjoy it. I like being involved and making a difference.”

Riki raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’re always this… perfect?”

(Name) laughed softly, the sound light and genuine, catching him off guard. “I wouldn’t say perfect. Just dedicated.”

He leaned in a bit closer, intrigued. “Dedicated, huh? To what, exactly?”

She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting to the window where the rain pattered softly against the glass. “To my responsibilities, to the people who trust me… to making things better, I guess.”

Riki studied her face, noting the way her brows furrowed slightly when she talked about things she cared about. He could tell she wasn’t used to talking about herself this way—she was always so composed, so… controlled.

“But what about you?” she asked, breaking his train of thought. Her eyes narrowed slightly, playful but curious. “Why do you do what you do?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You mean why do I race? Or why am I hanging out with you?”

“Both,” she shot back, surprising him with her quick retort.

He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest. “I race because it’s fun. It’s freedom, speed, adrenaline… you can’t understand unless you’ve been there. And as for why I’m hanging out with you…” He trailed off, letting the question hang in the air.

Her eyes flickered with a mixture of interest and suspicion. “Yeah, why are you hanging out with me?”

“Maybe I’m trying to figure out if you’re really as perfect as everyone thinks,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. “Or maybe you just want to get on my good side.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice softer. “Maybe I like being around you. You’re different.”

She blinked, clearly taken aback. “Different how?”

“You’re not afraid to call me out. You’re not scared of what people think, or maybe you just don’t care what I think,” he replied, his tone sincere for once. “It’s… refreshing.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the coffee shop fading into the background. Riki found himself drawn to her in a way that felt both familiar and strange, like he’d known her for years and yet was only just beginning to understand her.

“So, what’s the real reason?” she pressed, her gaze piercing.

He hesitated, considering his words carefully. “Maybe I just like being around you,” he repeated, a small smile playing at his lips.

She blushed, looking down at her coffee. “Well, I guess I don’t mind having you around either… sometimes.”

They both laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. He felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the coffee.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few weeks, they continued to meet, always at the same coffee shop, always at the same time. Their conversations flowed more easily with each passing day. They talked about everything—his racing, her responsibilities, their families, and their dreams. Riki found himself looking forward to these moments, to the way she made him feel lighter, more open.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling day at school, (Name) arrived at the coffee shop with her hair slightly disheveled and a look of fatigue on her face. Riki noticed immediately, his playful grin fading into concern.

“Tough day?” he asked, sliding her favorite drink across the table.

She nodded, letting out a deep sigh. “You could say that. The charity ball is next week, and everything seems to be going wrong. Half the decorations haven’t arrived, the caterer canceled last minute, and I’ve got two teachers breathing down my neck about late assignments.”

Riki tilted his head, watching her with a soft expression. “Sounds like you could use a break.”

She laughed humorlessly. “A break? I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe I could help with that.”

She raised an eyebrow, curious. “And how would you do that?”

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, a mysterious smile spreading across his face. “Trust me?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “Alright, Riki. Surprise me.”

He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took with a bit of reluctance but also with a hint of excitement. They left the coffee shop, the rain having stopped, leaving the air crisp and fresh. Riki led her to his motorcycle, his pride and joy. She looked at it, eyes wide with a mix of awe and trepidation.

“You’re not seriously thinking I’m getting on that, are you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

He grinned, handing her a helmet. “Scared?”

She huffed, grabbing the helmet. “No, just… cautious.”

Riki laughed, a sound that made her stomach flutter. “Come on, (Name). Live a little.”

She hesitated for a second but eventually climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. The feeling of his body against hers sent a thrill through her, something she wasn’t quite prepared for. The engine roared to life, and they sped off into the city streets.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The wind whipped around them as they drove through the city, the lights blurring into streaks of color. (Name) held on tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never done anything like this before, never felt so free and alive. There was a wildness to Riki that was both terrifying and intoxicating, and for the first time, she understood why he loved racing so much.

They eventually arrived at a secluded overlook on the outskirts of the city. The view was breathtaking, the entire skyline spread out before them, twinkling like a sea of stars. Riki stopped the bike and helped her off, watching her face as she took in the sight.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is… beautiful.”

Riki smiled softly, pleased with her reaction. “I thought you might like it.”

They sat down on the hood of his bike, the city stretching out below them. The air was cool, and the only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

(Name) turned to him, her expression thoughtful. “Why did you bring me here?”

Riki shrugged, looking out at the view. “I wanted to show you my world. A place where I feel… at peace.”

She studied his profile, the way his eyes softened as he looked at the city. “And do you feel at peace now?”

He turned to meet her gaze, his expression serious. “Yeah, I do… with you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, a warm blush creeping up her neck. She looked away, flustered but pleased. “I… I’m glad.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Riki felt something shift in him, a realization that he was falling for her in a way he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just about the bet anymore; it was about her—her kindness, her strength, her ability to see through his defenses.

As the evening wore on, they talked about everything and nothing, their words flowing like a quiet river under the stars. When they finally left, Riki felt lighter, more at ease. He knew he was in deep, but for once, he didn’t mind. He just wanted to see where this would go.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The clock struck midnight, and the world outside was quiet. Most of the town was asleep, their windows dark, curtains drawn. But (Name) lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen—something she couldn't quite put her finger on. The cool night breeze blew gently through the slightly open window, making her shiver.

Suddenly, a soft tap sounded against her window. She sat up, listening. Another tap, then another. Curiosity got the best of her, and she slipped out of bed, tiptoeing over to the window. She peeked out, and her breath caught in her throat.

Riki was standing below, a small pile of pebbles in his hand. He grinned up at her, his eyes glinting with mischief under the dim streetlights. He looked completely out of place in her neatly trimmed, suburban front yard, his leather jacket catching the moonlight.

“What are you doing?” she whispered loudly, opening the window wider.

He chuckled softly, tossing another pebble up just to tease her. “Hey, are you going to come down, or do I have to keep throwing rocks all night?”

(Name) rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a playful grin spreading across his face. “But you like it.”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing back at her bedroom door, then back down at him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Come on,” he coaxed, “let’s go for a ride. Just you and me. I promise I’ll bring you back before dawn.”

She bit her lip, her mind racing. She knew she shouldn’t—she had a test tomorrow, and she was supposed to be setting a good example as the student council president. But there was something about the way Riki looked at her, like she was the only person in the world who mattered, that made her want to throw caution to the wind.

“Alright,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Give me a minute.”

She quickly threw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans, trying to be as quiet as possible so she wouldn’t wake her parents. Her hands were shaking with excitement as she slipped on her sneakers and crept down the stairs. She made it out the front door without a sound, her heart racing as she stepped into the cool night air.

Riki’s smile widened when he saw her, and he held out a helmet. “You ready?”

She took the helmet, her fingers brushing against his. “Yeah,” she breathed, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

He mounted his motorcycle and patted the seat behind him. “Hop on.”

She hesitated for only a second before climbing on, her arms instinctively wrapping around his waist. The moment she felt his warmth, her nerves settled. The engine roared to life, and they sped off into the night.

The town blurred past them, the wind whipping through her hair. She pressed her cheek against Riki’s back, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her skin. Despite the speed, she felt oddly safe with him, like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

They rode for what felt like hours, the stars above them and the road stretching out endlessly ahead. Finally, Riki slowed down, pulling off onto a secluded road that wound up a hill. At the top, he stopped the bike and turned off the engine. The silence was almost deafening after the roar of the motorcycle.

“Where are we?” she asked, climbing off the bike and taking off her helmet.

“Just a place I like to come sometimes,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Away from everything.”

He led her to a small clearing at the top of the hill, where the town sprawled out below them, a sea of twinkling lights. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over everything.

“Wow,” she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

Riki smiled, watching her face. “Yeah, it is.”

They sat down on the grass, and for a while, neither of them said anything. The only sounds were the rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of crickets. (Name) felt a strange sense of peace wash over her, a calm she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” she replied, glancing at him.

He nodded, his expression serious. “I like you, (Name). I know I’m not exactly your type, but… I want to be with you. For real.”

She blinked, surprised. “You’re asking me out?”

“Yeah,” he said, a bit more softly. “I’m asking you out.”

A smile broke across her face, her heart swelling with emotion. “I… I’d like that, Riki.”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Then it’s a date.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next few weeks passed in a blur of laughter, stolen kisses, and late-night phone calls. Riki and (Name) were inseparable, their worlds colliding in a way neither of them had expected. He began to show up to school more, not caring that his friends teased him about spending time with the ‘goody-two-shoes’ student council president.

(Name) felt herself falling for him more with every passing day. He wasn’t what she had expected—underneath the tough exterior was a guy who was funny, thoughtful, and surprisingly sweet. He made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt before, and she started to wonder how she had ever been content without him.

They spent their days together, talking about their dreams and fears, sharing secrets they hadn’t told anyone else. (Name) found herself opening up to Riki in a way she never had with anyone before. He seemed to understand her in a way no one else did.

Riki, on the other hand, was completely smitten. He found himself doing things he never thought he’d do—like turning up to school on time just to see her in the morning, or skipping a race because he knew she had a big presentation and he wanted to be there to support her. His friends started to notice the change in him, but he didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, he felt… happy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

But secrets have a way of surfacing, especially the ones you want to keep buried.

One day, (Name) was heading to the school library when she overheard a conversation between two of Riki’s friends, Kaito and Jun. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but their voices were loud and they didn’t notice her standing around the corner.

“So, is Riki still going through with that bet?” Kaito asked, laughing.

Jun snorted. “Yeah, man. Can’t believe he’s actually dating the student council president for it. Guess he’s really desperate for that money.”

(Name)’s heart froze. She felt the ground shift beneath her feet, her mind spinning. A bet? The words echoed in her head like a cruel joke. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach, her chest tightening with hurt and anger.

“No way,” Kaito continued. “I thought he’d back out by now. He must be going soft.”

Jun laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just playing the long game. Either way, I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

(Name) didn’t wait to hear more. She turned on her heel and walked away as fast as she could, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She felt like a fool—like her whole world had just crumbled around her.

Riki had asked her out because of a bet. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. All those moments, all those words… had any of it been real?

She couldn’t stay at school any longer. She needed to get away, to think, to breathe. She rushed out of the building and started running, not caring where she was going, just needing to escape.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Riki was at his locker when he saw (Name) run past, her face pale and her eyes red. His heart dropped instantly. Something was wrong. He slammed his locker shut and took off after her, his mind racing.

“(Name)!” he called out, his voice frantic. “Wait!”

She didn’t stop. If anything, she sped up, tears streaming down her face. She felt so stupid, so betrayed. How could she have been so naive?

“(Name), please!” Riki yelled, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

She finally stopped, spinning around to face him, her expression a mix of anger and hurt. “Was it all a lie?” she demanded, her voice breaking. “Was everything between us just a joke to you?”

Riki’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No, of course not!”

“Don’t lie to me!” she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. “I heard your friends. I know about the bet!”

Riki’s face paled. He hadn’t meant for her to find out like this—he hadn’t meant for her to find out at all. “(Name), please, let me explain—”

“No!” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I can’t believe I… I actually fell for you.”

She turned and ran again, and this time, Riki didn’t chase her. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut, his chest tight with panic. He had to make this right, but he didn’t know how. He had genuinely fallen for her, and now he’d ruined everything.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

For the rest of the week, (Name) didn’t come to school. She didn’t answer his calls or texts, didn’t even leave her house. Riki felt helpless, every passing day a torture. He knew he’d messed up, and now he had to find a way to prove to her that what he felt was real.

He spent every day trying to think of ways to get through to her. He stood outside her house, hoping she’d come out, but she never did. He wrote letters, but they were returned unopened. His friends told him to let it go, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He loved her, and he was going to prove it.

Finally, he had an idea—a big one. It was risky, but he was willing to do whatever it took. He borrowed a speaker system from a friend and set it up in front of her house. It was late, almost midnight, but he didn’t care.

He picked up the microphone, his hands shaking slightly. “(Name),” he called out, his voice amplified through the speakers. “I know you’re in there. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But please, just listen to me.”

There was no response, but he continued anyway.

“When I asked you out, yeah, it started as a stupid bet. But it’s not a bet anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. I… I love you, (Name). I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

The neighbors’ lights were starting to come on, people peeking out their windows, but he didn’t care. This was for her.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make it up to you. Let me show you that what I feel is real.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, the front door creaked open, and (Name) stepped out, her face tear-streaked but determined.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “You really love me?”

Riki nodded, his heart pounding. “More than anything.”

There was a long pause, and then, finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “One chance. Don’t blow it.”

He grinned, relief flooding through him. “I won’t. I promise.”

And for the first time in weeks, he felt like everything might just be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

From that night on, everything between Riki and (Name) was different. Their relationship, once built on a shaky foundation of deceit, was now raw and real. Riki was determined to show her that what he felt was genuine, that he was willing to do whatever it took to win back her trust.

Every morning, he was there, waiting outside her house with a smile and her favorite coffee, even if she pretended not to notice him. He walked beside her to school, carrying her books even when she insisted she didn’t need his help. Every moment, he found little ways to show he cared—leaving handwritten notes in her locker, each one more heartfelt than the last, telling her things he was too afraid to say aloud.

He didn’t give up. He didn’t falter.

(Name) tried to resist, to guard her heart. But every time she looked at him, saw the sincerity in his eyes, heard the tenderness in his voice when he spoke to her… she felt herself start to soften. She couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in her chest when he smiled at her, that familiar flutter in her stomach whenever he leaned a little too close.

One afternoon, she found him standing outside her student council meeting, waiting for her with an uncertain look in his eyes. “I know you’re busy,” he said quietly, “but can we talk? Just for a minute?”

She hesitated, but something in his expression made her relent. “Okay,” she replied, nodding. “Let’s talk.”

They walked to a quiet corner of the school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the ground. He turned to her, his gaze intense but filled with vulnerability. “I’ve messed up a lot of things in my life,” he began, his voice steady, “but I don’t want to mess this up. Not with you. I’ve never felt this way before, and it scares me… but I’m not going to run from it.”

(Name) listened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had heard these kinds of confessions before, but there was something different about the way he spoke, the way his voice trembled with emotion. “Why me, Riki?” she asked softly. “Why now?”

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Because you’re the first person who made me feel like I could be better,” he confessed. “Like I could be someone worth loving. And I don’t want to lose that… I don’t want to lose you.”

There was a long pause. She searched his eyes, looking for any trace of deceit, any sign that he was playing with her heart again. But all she saw was sincerity and fear—the fear of losing something he had only just realized he couldn’t live without.

“I’m scared too,” she admitted finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m scared of getting hurt again. But I… I want to believe you, Riki. I really do.”

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with hope. “Then let me prove it,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “Give me the chance to show you how much you mean to me.”

Over the next few weeks, Riki did everything he could to prove his love. He took her on surprise dates, each one more thoughtful and creative than the last—picnics under the stars, late-night rides through the city, quiet moments on the beach where they talked about their dreams and fears. He showed her parts of himself he had never shown anyone before—the parts that were scared, the parts that were broken, and the parts that loved her more than he ever thought possible.

Slowly, (Name) began to let her guard down. She saw the way he looked at her, with a mixture of awe and adoration, like she was the most important person in his world. She felt the sincerity in his actions, the way he always put her first, even when it meant sacrificing something he loved. She realized that he was trying, really trying, to be better—for her.

One evening, after a quiet dinner at a small café, Riki walked her home, their hands brushing against each other as they strolled down the street. She stopped suddenly, turning to face him. “Riki,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “I need to know… why do you love me?”

He paused, taken aback by the question, but then he smiled. “I love you because you’re strong,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “Because you’re kind. Because you make me want to be a better person. And… because you see me. The real me. The one no one else bothers to look for.”

Her heart swelled with emotion, and she took a step closer, reaching for his hand. “I see you, Riki,” she whispered. “And… I think I’m ready to give us another chance.”

Relief and joy flooded his expression, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “I won’t let you down,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, I’ll spend every day proving that to you.”

And from that moment on, their love was real—built not on a bet or a lie, but on trust, forgiveness, and the promise of something more. They had found each other in the most unexpected way, but they knew, deep down, that they were meant to find each other.

They had come full circle, from strangers to friends to something more, and now, they were ready to face the world together. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they knew they would face them side by side, hand in hand, with the unbreakable bond they had forged through heartbreak, redemption, and love.

As they walked down the street, the city lights casting a warm glow around them, Riki leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I love you, (Name),” he whispered against her skin.

She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “I love you too, Riki,” she whispered back.

And for the first time in a long time, they both felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Taglist: @milanco @mitmit01 @llvrhee @altbonni @stormy1408

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fairlyang · 3 months ago

Text

Summer Lovin’: We Go Together 🕷️

w/c: 6.9K

pairing: greaser!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. infamous dance scene w mig proving himself (better ending), his friends are instigators, drive in, groping, exhibitionism, fingering, stroking, praise, teasing, finally fucks you, riding, missionary, sweet ending

a/n: AHHHHH after 10 months my beloved part 3 is done!!! a year ago i first thought of this au and wrote it just for fun bc i love grease, now i’m happy to close this lil chapter after putting it off so long. honestly one of my favs series i’ve written :’)

part one — part two — the dress/tl of events

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Four weeks had passed and Miguel had taken every opportunity possible to take you out and practically show everyone that you were his.

It was a different sight to see for everyone, especially his fellow T Birds with the exception of Danny, who was really happy for him.

Kenickie also didn’t really care, mostly because he found himself in a predicament just like yours but unlike Miguel, he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet.

Unfortunately the younger three T Birds couldn’t believe it and started bickering to Miguel as soon as he broke the news to all of them.

While he got wide grins and bats on the back from Kenickie, and Danny, on the other hand he just got eye rolls and scoffs from the other three who couldn’t fathom thee Miguel O’Hara was finally living down his playboy ways.

They couldn’t believe one of their leaders, who taught them how to be the way they were, was just done with fooling around with a handful of girls at a time.

The girls on the other hand were shocked, with the exception of Frenchy and Sandy who somewhat had an idea where his head was at but the other three were not expecting that from him.

They didn’t believe it at first until the first week passed and it was so obvious to anyone with eyes that he was finally done with his bullshit.

Finally having pure happiness and tranquility with him by your side was all you could really ask for.

So after a bunch of cute dates and shared kisses, it was finally the day of the dance. You ended up going shopping with Frenchy and Sandy the day after the diner date because you just couldn’t wait and were so excited. They said you had to buy a new dress, one that Miguel would love.

And you found it.

You decided on a red cocktail dress that had a black ribbon around the waist and around the neckline as well, to tie behind your neck. It had some white ruffles underneath for more volume and Frenchy said it’d work great for the dances.

You thought it was so pretty and would impress Miguel.

And it did way more than that.

His jaw was practically on the floor when he picked you up and you had to drag him to his car before your mom forced you into taking pictures as if it was prom because he wore a matching red dress shirt with a black jacket.

Plus surely the cameras would capture good ones since the whole country was gonna see everyone dance live.

Somehow this university was picked out of all the other ones.

Some kind of miracle.

Or maybe a curse.

But the T birds claimed the principal must’ve slept with the host or something to consider Rydell.

You just gave them a side eye while Miguel scolded them for being dumbasses and always thinking in the gutter.

Both friend groups were together with the exception of Rizzo and Kenickie who split up and were nowhere to be seen.

Everyone was gossiping and judging people’s outfits or people’s dates but you just made yourself comfortable in Miguel’s arms while minding your business.

You felt so happy everything ended up working out and now you could truly be yourself with Miguel without the fear of him acting like a piece of shit.

Because if you were affectionate or doing some kind of pda, he’d just follow your lead.

It was the perfect change of pace after everything that’s happened and you owed it to yourselves to be so smitten in public.

You sighed and hugged him a little tighter when finally one of the professors tells everyone to form a circle and that the cameras will run shortly but that they wanted to do a warm up dance with the band.

Everyone ran inside the circle as soon as the tune of “Rock And Roll Is Here To Stay” started playing. All the couples were already hand in hand while the singletons sat off on the benches off to the side.

You and Miguel started just by dancing next to each other before he was in front of you, grabbing your hands, moving them side to side with his. He then gave you a quick spin before lifting you up, your legs going way up almost hitting the professor, who was keeping an eye out.

Miguel then somehow lifted you over his back and maneuvered you so you’d land straight up in front of him.

The professor was nodding his head before walking away while you continued being in sync with Miguel.

Some of the couples unfortunately couldn’t do that, one guy dropped the girl he was partnered with which resulted in her yelling at him for spoiling her chance to be on national television.

He walked around the circle observing who would still be in and who he’d have to cut short for raunchy actions which turned out to be quite the handful.

He found his way back to you guys when Miguel picked up up again, your legs were around his waist then you’re back in the air before he carefully drops you to the ground and you’re underneath him.

He turns around, grabbing your hands before he picks you back up. You do little bunny skips for a few seconds before picking you up once again, your hands holding the back of his head right. He then dipped you down while your legs cling onto his waist for dear life and he luckily didn’t drop you.

And it caught the eye of the professor who was taking some notes down. Frenchy and Doodie were watching you which had the prof assume they knew you.

Course they did.

But only would Doodie’s dumbass lie when asked about your names, claiming it’s Fred and Ginger. Frenchy scolded him but he just waved her off while the prof wrote those names down.

Meanwhile you and Miguel went to sit at the benches, just to catch your breath for a bit when something came to mind. “What if I get camera shy?” You ask making him laugh.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright. We’ll be good, right? Hm?” He says and you nod.

“We’ll be good.” You answer and he grins.

“Thatta girl. Now come on let’s go.” He says and grabs your hand, pulling you up and going back to the dance floor.

Meanwhile the next song was playing, a little slower one but on one corner of the gym was Rizzo and her new boy toy because she had a pregnancy scare with Kenickie and had no choice but to drop him.

Which only resulted in Kenickie getting Rizzo’s boy toy’s ex girl as his date.

A whole mess but it should’ve been expected with the amount of toxicity Kenickie and Rizzo have shown towards each other.

Rizzo saw them and gasped before stepping in front of her new man so he wouldn’t see but it was hard not to see with Kenickie giving this girl one of his so called “rare souvenirs”.

Jan and Putzie were also dancing. Or attempting to. Jan has only ever led while dancing which had them both in position to lead which only made them look stiff.

Frenchy was asking Doodie if he could at least spin her but he was counting his steps and trying hard to concentrate. It only looked like he was marching on the floor over trying to dance.

Danny and Sandy were off slow dancing, whispering in each others faces while they ignored everyone else around them. He’d occasionally spin her then pull her towards him to snatch a kiss from her.

You and Miguel were dancing back and forth until Miguel started just going backwards while attempting to sing like the singer of the band. “You have such a beautiful voice Miguel.” You tease making him continue at a lower octave.

You laughed and you somehow landed right where half your friend group was. He stops when he sees Kenickie’s date, and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close while your arm was around his waist, not questioning a thing.

“‘Hara meet my date, Cha Cha.” Kenickie introduces him to her but he just shrugs and leans his head against yours.

“What’s up ‘Hara baby?” She says making you scoff but Miguel pulls you even closer to him.

“Who is she?” Doodie asked making Frenchy scoff as well.

“They call me Cha Cha because I’m the best dancer around.” She replies with a cocky smirk making you roll your eyes.

Great.

“With the worst reputation.” Frenchy mumbles making you and Sandy snicker.

He ignored her completely and lets go of you to grab your hand again, leading you back to the dance floor. “Do I wanna ask?” You mutter under your breath making him sigh.

“Ex…. Not girlfriend.. or fling.. we’ll go with dancing partner.” He says, stopping in the middle of the dance floor and pulls you close.

“Past is in the past.” He whispers and places his hands on your waist while yours wrapped behind his neck.

“I only care about my future with the girl I’m going steady with.” He adds and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s good to hear.” You say relieved.

Not that you already didn’t trust his promising words to you but because you could tell she was trying to cause something. A reaction out of either of you which she didn’t get.

The song ended and the band stops until they play the next song which has everyone sprinting to make two straight lines, one for the girls and one for the boys.

The couple at the very end walk through the middle of both lines until they get to the other side by the stage and go to the front of the line meanwhile there’s another couple a few feet from them already dancing

Miguel made sure you were directly in front of him while the rest of the guys directed their girls next to you.

The first few couples you didn’t recognize but from your group was Kenickie and Cha Cha followed by Danny and Sandy. Then it was you and Miguel followed by Frenchy and Doodie.

Then it was Jan and Putzie with Sunny by himself behind them because Marty was too busy flirting it up with the host and uninterested in his flirty attempts towards her. And lastly it was Rizzo and her man.

The song ends and the assistant principal climbs up on stage and yells, “The Rydell fight song!!”

Suddenly the principal and coach make their way through the middle of the line and as they moved the lines disappeared because people were so bumped for the cameras to finally roll.

They climbed on stage and the band stops playing their music while everyone cheers. “When you are finished.” The principal says into a mic and everyone quickly quiets down.

“You will be happy to know I am not judging the dance contest.” She says and the loudest of cheers were immediately screamed from the whole gym.

The coach grins and tries to quiet everyone down, which works out because everyone loves him.

She then goes on what seems to be a lecture to be on the best behavior because national television and blah blah blah, it was going on one ear and directly out of the other, no one gave a shit.

Then finally she introduces Vince Fontaine who was a radio dj and somehow was judging this contest.

All the girls screamed and everyone’s looking around but he was nowhere to be seen until finally he heard his name and stopped flirting with Marty. He ran off from behind some float they had at the back of the gym and ran into the crowd.

Everyone bombarded him and the guys moved him forward, carrying him until he got to the front of the stage. Kenickie and Miguel lifted him up to the stage and he immediately started thrusting into the crowd.

The coach then explains the rules which included couples for some reason had to be boy-girl, if you’re tapped on the shoulder you have to leave the dance floor, and lastly no vulgar movements.

That for some reason had people looking, pointing, and laughing at Rizzo which you found weird and oddly specific they all thought of her but there was no time to question that.

Suddenly the professor from earlier runs on stage and says, “forty seconds.” then scrambled off.

Vince then took the mic and started hyping up the crowd and telling everyone to not worry about the cameras and to just be themselves.

Then the cameras are on and he puts on his professional voice when introducing the band then student body before the band starts playing Hound Dog and all hell breaks loose.

Everyone scrambled to be in a good position, dancing in sync while holding their partner by the waist or hand.

But they stopped as soon as Doodie spotted a camera and called it out making literally the entire floor to try to be at the very front of it.

Guys were carrying their girls up on their shoulders and everyone was waving or blowing kisses to the camera.

But some of the professors were demanding the guys to put the girls down and to get back to dancing again or they’d be disqualified.

Everyone went back to dancing when Miguel grabs your hand and leads you to the very front where all the cameras would be pointing towards.

You danced in front of it and you were glad your nerves didn’t come in otherwise this would’ve been a mess.

Miguel picked you up then spun you around before dancing back and forth to the music.

The camera moved along the front and captured everyone’s excited faces as the song was coming to its end.

One of the other cameras pointed to Vince and Patty and Marty that were on either side of him while they were in the back of the gym.

He hyped up the crowd once again before randomly asking, “Hey does everybody know Marty?”

The T Birds of course yelled that they did and all kinds of stupid things before she made faces at them forgetting just for a second that she was directly on frame.

The next song starts and so many couples were already out. All the couples were in sync with the little hand motions for this specific song and Vince was walking through, now able to look at every couple.

He started off with Kenickie, who was pretending he was slapping Cha Cha while she pretended she was getting hit before thrusting towards him with Kenickie behind him.

He walked away and looked at you and Miguel while you remained eye contact, not stopping from doing the hand jive like everyone else was doing.

He walked around some more before ending up with Marty but he got distracted by Doodie’s horrific dancing in front of him he had to tap his shoulder.

He then walked to the center of the floor where he found Rizzo and her man dancing, vulgarly. He was on his knees as if he was about to eat her out and she was thrusting back and forth.

Vince instantly tapped the man’s shoulder and walked away. Rizzo and her man walked off only for her man to walk past Cha Cha and thrust in front of her which only resulted in Kenickie to jump him.

He started throwing punches and they were thrown right back making the singer of the band shout, “break up, break up, what is that?!?”

Rizzo and Cha Cha tried to break it off but it was hard until Cha Cha led Kenickie back to the dance floor to stay center stage.

That was until there was a circle of the couples that were left and everyone had a chance to be in the middle to show off what they got. Some were of course vulgar because how could they not be?

Some were very impressive and others not so much.

Patty was at the very front with Tom when suddenly Kenickie runs then slides down to Patty before standing back up while lifting her dress up.

She ran away embarrassed and Kenickie dropped to the floor and started thrusting up which prompted the assistant principal to come up and yell at him. But right after someone picked her up and shook her up and down, taking her away.

Just then Miguel pulled you to the center and you started off with more synchronized dances you’d talked about during the week. Everyone cheered and by this point most of the couples were out which was a good sign.

That was until Sunny tried to be sneaky and pull you away from Miguel when you were skipping along behind him but you stepped on Sunny’s shoe and went back to Miguel quickly.

Cha Cha was about to swoop in and take Miguel but luckily you were faster and he grabbed your hand, never a doubt in your mind that he would have picked you over her.

He led you to the very middle and you started grabbing the ends of your dress, twirling it out while you both danced in sync. You used the entire circle that formed around you and ignored everyone besides each other.

Focusing on looking good and not fucking up any of the moves but it all went perfectly and smoothly.

The chemistry through the dances was intense and very clearly unmatched when the principal came down and handed you a plaque which made you cheer and grin at Miguel who had the widest smile yet.

He was so happy and if this wasn’t enough proof to show his growth and how he now didn’t give a shit about his reputation, he didn’t know what would be.

He twirled you around a couple times before giving you a big hug in front of everyone. There were loads of cheers and screams but you only focused on him and kind of just ignoring everything else.

As if you were the last two people standing and there weren’t so many eyes on you. Even the ones from the cameras in front of you.

He pulled away first and left a kiss on your forehead but then brought a hand to your chin, lifting it up before softly pecking your lips. Even louder screams erupted but you zoned them out.

Suddenly the lights turn off and everyone who was around you dispersed, while Blue Moon started to play. Someone grabbed your plaque and you didn’t even see who it was because your eyes were just locked on him.

He stuck his hand out and you grabbed it, you spun inward into him, grabbing his other hand earning some cheers because of how smooth it looked.

Miguel then led, moving you around swiftly, one hand holding yours and the other on your lower back. He spun you in a few circles before dropping you in to a dip which you knew you had to stick a leg out.

Louder cheers echoed through your ears when he picked you back up and spun you around again slowly.

Suddenly the younger trio of the T Birds jump in front of the main camera, their jackets covering their faces, they lean over and pull down their pants and boxers leaving them bare naked, showing their asses to the whole country.

Everyone laughed but you and Miguel didn’t notice, just continued with your dancing while the lighting person focused on their asses over you two, who had won the contest.

The dance ended as soon as that happened. The cameras cut. The lights were turned back on and the “Mooners” were already long gone.

You only noticed because as soon as the lights turned on Miguel grabbed you and ran off to the exit along with the rest of your friend group. Him, Danny, and Kenickie began smacking the other three T birds and scolding them for being dumbasses.

There was chaos all over the place because the professors were trying to see who had the audacity to singlehandedly ruin the university’s reputation further.

Practically everyone went to the drive in after the dance considering it ended so early and no one was trying to go home to their parents at 10pm.

It wasn’t too packed with cars until everyone from Rydell was piling in and parking in whatever spot they could get.

Given you and your friend group were the first ones to get to their designated cars at the uni parking lot and quickly knew where you’d all go to hang and luckily got decent spots.

The girls parked in the lane behind you and Miguel, and the guys were next to them. Luckily there was still enough space between lanes in case Miguel wanted to leave and there’d be no chance of accidents unless one of the T birds did something stupid, which was highly likely.

Kenickie came up to Miguel’s window to which he rolled it down, (because Miguel finally decided to have the top of his convertible back on) and he asks, “do you want some snacks or somethin’?”

Miguel turns to you and you shake your head making Kenickie nod. He leaned in close to the window prompting Miguel to lean in, assuming he had something to tell him.

You tried to mind your business, twiddling at the end of your dress, listening to the hums of the acapella group on the radio, looking straight ahead at the large screen displaying a zombie movie they always play.

Anything to not seem like you were snooping but somehow you didn’t hear a thing when Miguel suddenly scoffs, then laughs before waving Kenickie off.

Kenickie gave him a wide grin before walking away, most likely off with the rest of the gang making you wonder what on earth just happened.

He didn’t say anything and only wrapped his right arm over your shoulder while he rolled his window up but left a tiny bit of space to at least hear the movie.

But that wasn’t top priority in his head.

Top priority was something he’s been thinking about for ages.

A long while since those days you had spent together at the beach.

And what better time to follow through with his dirty ideas than now?

So he brought his hand lower, inching closer and closer to just full on grope your right breast. You could almost sense a change in the air and that was confirmed when his hand didn’t stop it’s movements and indeed did grope you. “Miguel!” You squealed and he laughed before leaning his head down to kiss your neck.

You bit your lip as he squeezed your breast softly but left quite a mark on you. “I-It’s the way we just got here Miguel-“ you stammer as he hums against your skin, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Do you really care about the damn movie darling?” He murmurs making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Well….”

“That’s what I thought.” He teases and pulls away, now looking at you directly.

“Now.. I had something in mind for tonight.” He says softly before taking his arm off you too.

“And what would that be?” You ask and tilt your head to the side.

What was he plotting?

“Maybe going all the way?” He suggests and you widen your eyes.

“Here?” You ask, making him nod as you laughed.

“You gotta be joking right?” You say and he shakes his head.

“Do you think I’m joking?” He murmurs before going back to kissing your neck.

You breathe in and squeeze your legs together, this man cannot be serious.

“You don’t have tinted windows-” You say but interrupt yourself with a moan leaving your mouth as his right hand went back to groping your right breast.

“Don’t worry, no one’s watching.” He murmurs nonchalantly but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“You have perverted friends Mig, be serious!!” You laugh making him snort.

“Do you want me to remind you how we met-“ he teases, making you groan.

“Fuck-“ you curse and realize it’s practically the same thing.

“This is sort of different- there’s actually people around.” You mumble.

“Kenickie will put ‘em in check and look around this is a hot spot.” He mutters and you could only hum.

It was true.

People wouldn’t exactly be peeking because they were most likely busy themselves.

And you’ve been needing him to fuck you…

So why not after he proved himself to you?

You lightly nod and he grins, “was an offer you couldn’t refuse huh?”

His teasing only made you roll your eyes but he was right. After practically dreaming of it for so long, how could you not?

And after such an overall amazing night, why not?

“You’re such a horn dog you know that?” you tease and he shrugs.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” he murmurs and pecks your lips.

he slowly brought his hand down, just placing it on your thigh and inching lower so he can bring his hand under your dress. “you looked so beautiful tonight.” he murmurs making you sigh.

“you don’t look too bad either.” you teased as you pulled your dress up for him and his hand started squeezing your thigh.

“gonna have to only use my hands because the car’s a bit small..” he murmured and you just nodded, “it’s fine.”

you spread your legs apart, putting your left leg on top of his right and his hand makes it way down, reaching your inner thigh, “y’know i had a whole plan for this, after a nice date, maybe some rose petals and candles…”

“changed your mind?” you asked and he shook his head.

his hand went up until it touched the waistband of your panties and whispered, “you just look too fucking good, i got impatient.”

you felt your face grow warm and you looked at him, a sparkle in your eyes and a sweet smile on your face, “so romantic.”

he fought back a smile but seeing your pretty face, he couldn’t help but smile along with you. “our second time can be special.”

you chuckle and shrug, “this is more like us.”

he grins, leaning in and letting his head rest against yours while his hand went down, now over your clothed pussy. he lightly rubs your clit with two fingers, feeling you relax as you lay your head on his shoulder. “it’s felt like ages since the last time.” he whispered and you let out a sigh.

“a whole month.” you whined, making him groan, “a month and three days.”

“someone’s keeping track.” you tease then let out a moan when he starts to rub your clit faster.

“that’s it.. let me hear you doll, i’ve missed you.” he purrs and you hold onto his arm, bucking your hips up to grind against his fingers.

“missed your touch baby.” you whisper earning yourself a moan from him.

“let’s never go this long again.” he mumbles and you quickly nod.

“it’s been torture.. but maybe worth it.” you say and he hums, “whys that?”

you tilt your head up to look at him and he looks down at you, “because it’s gonna feel so good when you’re finally inside me…”

he takes a deep breath and you move your left hand, putting it on his thigh then slowly trailing it up, “you’re actually going to kill me.”

“and you are too with how slow you’re movin’” you whine, making him scoff.

“sorry for trying to set the mood.” he says fake defensively and gives you a pout.

“mood is set, c’mon we’re doing this.” you say, moving your panties to the side with your right hand.

“yes ma’am.” he says and brings his right hand to his mouth.

he sucks on two fingers just for your viewing pleasure then gathers his saliva onto them to ensure you’re nice and wet whether you already are or not. he then pulls them away and a string of saliva connects his finger and his tongue making your brain turn to mush.

he looked so fucking good. he had no business looking so hot doing something so dirty.

he then brought his hand down between your legs again and let his fingers rub gently against your folds. your pool of slick and his wet fingers combined together, perfect for the idea in his head.

his fingers go to tease your entrance for a solid two seconds before actually slipping them inside. your walls immediately clenched against them and you moved your hand higher until you felt his bulge. he opened his mouth to complain when you suddenly started to stroke him through his pants — you both moaned, unable to hide how good it feels.

you’d only just begun but felt like you’d be able to come fast just because it was finally him touching you. you weren’t relying on your own fingers after a month and it was surreal.

it was like his touch ignited something in you that only he was able to do. you usually felt it when he held your hand or waist but this time it was stronger.

you stroked him faster as he pumped his fingers deeper, still keeping a slow pace. he was paying close attention to the wet noises, it was like music to his ears. you were slightly distracting him but he was luckily good at multitasking.

you attempted to undo his pants with one hand but struggling miserably so he helped you with his left hand. he stood up the tiniest bit just to pull his pants down over his ass and kept them by his thighs.

he went back to focusing on the pace he set but as your stroking was starting off fast, he matched your pace instead. your eyes fluttered and you laid your head against his shoulder again to be more comfortable.

you let out some deep breaths, already on the verge of asking him for more but knowing he’d make you wait. he on the other hand thought you’d need this and didn’t want to be too pushy or accidentally be too greedy so he figured he’d stretch you out with his fingers.

you let out quiet moans as you slipped your hand inside his boxers and take it out. his cock springs up and you quickly take hold of it, leaning over to spit on it then stroke it. he groans as you went back to your previous position and pumps his fingers faster, “fuck baby-“

“feels too good-“ you murmured, making him grunt, “yeah? feel good doll?”

you nod and grind your hips up, “need more.”

“you sure?” he asks and you eagerly nod.

“please.” you murmur, and he practically melts.

he slips his fingers out of you and you quickly let him go as he motions for you to get on top, “c’mere, c’mere.”

cock already out and ready for you, you nod and sit up, swinging your right leg over until you’re straddling his lap. you grab the ends of your dress and bring it up to your stomach, “hey, we’re gonna take this slow okay?” he says as you hover over him.

you pout and he just brings a hand to your face, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb, “don’t worry, i won’t keep you waiting too long.”

“better not, been waiting three months.” you whine and he pouts, “you have been so patient huh, baby?”

you bit your lip and nod, “slip it in and take your time.” he murmurs as you lift yourself up and line his cock up to your entrance.

just the tip teasing it alone was insane. after all you’re both finally getting what you’ve been craving the most.

“fuck please.” you whine as his tip slips to the side because you were extremely drenched.

he then helps you and you slowly feel it going in. you gasp and cover your hand over your mouth, “oh fuck-!”

“shhh, you have to be quiet baby, I don’t want these perverts to hear how good my girl sounds for me.” he says, making you whimper. you’ll never get tired of hearing that.

you then grip onto to his shoulders as his hands are on your waist, patiently. you slide down and more whimpers erupt from your mouth.

he was so thick.

maybe it was a good thing he fingered you first otherwise you would not have been anywhere near prepared.

“take your time baby.” he whispers and you nod.

you straighten yourself up and just stay like that, only having the tip inside, to get use to it. after a few seconds you feel fine and slide down some more slowly. you both moan and his grip on your waist tightens.

“miguel please just fuck me.” you whine and he shakes his head.

“I need you to get use to it before I do.” he says, making you groan.

“need you.” you whine and he shakes his head again.

“you’re doing so good already baby, just keep going until you can fit it all.” he murmurs and you sigh.

you know he desperately wants to fuck you, and you want the same but he also didn’t want to hurt you. he wanted it to be completely enjoyable for you so he thought having you take it in cowgirl was a good start because you had full control.

“c’mon baby, you can do it.” he murmurs as you pull yourself up then right back down.

you were able to take a tiny bit more but it was still a lot. you already felt so full and you were probably about halfway. this was a problem you never thought you’d have but apparently anything can happen.

“just like that angel, doing so good for me.” he purrs and look down at your pussy slowly taking him in.

it was quite the sight. he wasn’t so sure how he had been able to control himself around you because you were both horny people but somehow kept your hands off each other. mostly just to not rely on sexual things for your relationship.

it helped. your relationship had been thriving but now it was finally time to go all the way.

“i didn’t think i’d need to fucking practice.” you whined, earning yourself a laugh from him.

“baby you’ve got eyes, you already knew.” he murmurs and you shrug.

you lower yourself down, now feeling pleasure over slight pain so you full on sat on his lap, his length fully inside you now. you both moaned and his fingers dug into your skin, “so perfect baby-“

“so big..” you murmured and leaned your head forward towards his.

he moans and that’s when you decide to start moving. you pulled yourself up then bounced your ass down until you could feel him all inside you. “fucking shit- fuck baby.. gonna make me come so quick, just so tight.”

your eyes lit up with his words and your gummy walls clenched against him, making him twitch. he took a breather and pulled your hips up then helped you go down. he helped you for a few more minutes until you got the hang of it and began doing it yourself.

he watched you in absolute awe. he never thought he’d gain feelings for someone, let alone such strong ones that filled his every waking thought. and those feeling always seemed to keep him up at night as well.

he didn’t realize how badly he needed you like this until he looked down to watch how your pussy took his cock in. it’s exactly what he’s been desperately needing.

and it was like he fit perfectly inside you, like a missing puzzle piece. like you belonged together.

he thought it was enough teasing for the night so he quickly grabbed you tightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. he then sat up before bringing your body down so you could lay down whilst still inside you.

“you ready?” he asks and you nod.

without another word he starts to properly fuck you, pulling your legs back which had you thinking to hold on to them so you did.

his thrusts were fast and messy, already feeling he could explode because you felt incredible. he swore he’s never felt pleasure this god-like until he met you.

he could’ve sworn you amplified the feeling when you touched him. it was all he could ever ask for in life, someone who drove him crazy in more ways than one.

your eyes fluttered shut as he relentlessly thrusted into you, the sweet melody of your moans filled his ears and it was the only noises he’d ever need.

“fuck miguel- god- filling me up so good.” you moaned and he swore he could feel himself twitch already.

“gonna fill you up alright..” he murmurs and holds onto the back of your thighs to help stable himself.

you moaned his name and watch how he fucked you to perfection. the way your pussy took his cock in was mesmerizing and if was such a pretty view. it was all you had been wanting and you finally got it, and it was better than anything you could’ve imagined.

he lowered himself down until he got right in front of your face and he starts going harder while he leaned down to kiss you. you instantly kissed back, moaning in his mouth with nearly every thrust.

he slid his tongue into your mouth and explored every crevice as you brought your hands up to his hair. you run your fingers through it, messing up his style just because you needed something to play with.

you tugged on them, making him moan into your mouth which just had you grinning ear to ear. you pulled away and he went down to your neck, kissing and licking every inch he could before he sucked a love bite into your skin, “fuck mig- p-please don’t stop-“ you whimpered out and he took your words to heart.

his thrusts were now the perfect combination of fast and hard, making sure you’d let out any and all the noises your heart desired. the car was moving back and forth and you could only pray that everyone around you was doing the same.

“too fucking perfect doll- god you’re amazing-“ he murmurs against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

he pulled away from your neck and looks into your eyes as he feels himself already getting closer to the edge. you could feel him twitch inside you again but this time it was enough for you to clench against him. he swore under his breath then watched your face perfectly.

your eyes were fighting hard to stay open and he was having a hard time keeping it together. but with each passing thrust he felt you getting close to the edge along with him. your face contorted and he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie so he fucked his hips into your repeatedly, desperate to cum.

he felt his orgasm building and he looked at you with pure joy in his eyes, well it was more of something else that he had never felt before, and there was no better time to admit it than now, “I love you.”

you snapped out of your hazy world and blinked, wondering if you really just heard that. his eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed into a pretty red color while you remained speechless. his thrusts were going deeper and you were glad he didn’t stop, otherwise you were going to assume this was all a dream.

you brought a hand up to his cheek, slight tears welling in your eyes as you smiled, “I love you.”

he grinned, tears threatening to fall out of his as well because he was just filled with so much love. so much love that he didn’t think was possible to feel.

you single-handedly changed him and had gotten him wrapped around your finger. the best part was he didn’t mind one bit.

right at that moment you both reached your orgasms and sealed the magic words with a loving kiss that you didn’t want to pull away from. he spilled his load as deep as he could go as you shook beneath him, holding onto him for dear life as he kissed you softly.

he slowed down and let you ride out your highs as you continued your sweet, sloppy kiss with tears running down both your cheeks. he pulled away, bringing a hand up to wipe them away while you did the same to his.

you let out a choked laugh, feeling so happy like you were on top of the world. he smiled and gave you a peck before pulling out of you then getting off you.

you fixed your panties then pulled your dress down as miguel helped you sit up then pulled you into his arms. you embraced him and cling onto him tightly to ensure he’s real. once you heard him let out an exaggerated cough, you knew he was.

and now there was no doubt in your mind that you made the right decision. that you were right to forgive him. and that you were truly, madly, hopelessly in love with miguel o’hara.

#across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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goldfades · 4 days ago

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okay idk if you’re still writing for the manager series but if you are i think it would be really cute to write one about a team christmas party or christmas diner!! tysm ily bye bye

(there's a fic coming soon dont worry)

oh my god, a team christmas party would be absolutely chaotic and adorable at the same time. let me set the scene:

manager’s office has turned into the north pole in the week leading up to the party because she’s in charge of organizing everything. she’s got lists on lists—decorations, secret santa assignments, food orders—and every five minutes someone’s popping in like, “hey, can we add gingerbread houses to the itinerary?” (it’s kk, always kk).

on the day of the party, the locker room is decked out in twinkling lights, fake snow, and stockings with each player’s name on them (manager’s handiwork, obviously). caroline and azzi are her right-hand women, helping set everything up while paige “supervises” with a santa hat tilted sideways on her head.

the secret santa exchange is pure chaos. paige gifts manager a hoodie with “world’s best coach manager” on it, and she’s smirking like, “it’s true, isn’t it?” manager rolls her eyes but is secretly touched. kk’s gift to azzi is a handmade ornament that says “sniper,” and jana somehow ends up with a stuffed animal that sarah insists looks just like her.

dinner is chef’s kiss. manager made a bunch of the food herself because she doesn’t trust the team not to set the kitchen on fire. everyone’s whining like, “manager, can you just cook for us forever?” paige is already scheming to take leftovers back to her dorm.

after dinner, it’s game time—charades, pictionary, and the most competitive ugly sweater contest of all time. kk shows up in a sweater that literally lights up, and paige’s sweater has a picture of her face photoshopped onto santa’s body. manager tries to stay impartial as a judge but ultimately gives the win to azzi, whose sweater is simple yet iconic. (she bribed manager with a cup of hot cocoa beforehand, obviously).

the night ends with everyone gathered around the tv watching Home Alone while sipping hot chocolate. paige keeps trying to steal marshmallows from manager’s cup, and manager’s like, “i swear to god, paige, if you don’t stop—” but she’s too cozy and happy to actually care.

the girls are sprawled out on couches, blankets piled everywhere, and manager can’t help but smile because even though this job drives her insane sometimes, these moments make it all worth it 💕

#uconn wbb manager thoughts 💭#uconn wbb #wcbb #ncaa wbb #uconn huskies #uconnwbb #uconn wcbb #paige bueckers

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lewmagoo · 2 years ago

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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stagefoureddiediaz · 9 months ago

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Ok so Buck is getting a meta before I write my 7x03 meta and it’s all because of this still we just got!

We haven’t seen Buck in blue jeans (he’s worn jeans they’ve just always been super black) since season 2x01 - you know when Eddie rocked up at the station and put his shirt on - yeah you’re all thinking what I’m thinking aren’t you!!! The parallels of that jealous Buck and upcoming jealous Buck keep on paralleling. Putting him back in this style of jeans now is so very deliberate and interesting - if you ask me it’s playing not only into jealous Buck, but also into Buck and his hamster wheel - it’s playing on the whole buck 1.0 upgrade to 2.0 etc - there’s something about the fact that Buck essentially stops wearing jeans when he bonds with Eddie - something in the idea that that was the moment he was being both more true to himself, but also hiding a part of himself as well - it’s almost as if the intention is to parallel and revisit some of earlier Buck and explore him opening up the part he hid. Now with the context of Buck in s2 being in a (intense for him) relationship that’s shifted and ended without him knowing/ accepting it and a new guy coming on the scene sparking jealousy before creating a strong bond, and the parallel/juxtaposition of what we’re about to see - new guy sparking jealousy and presenting a threat to his status quo whilst he shares an intense bond with Eddie is a pretty interesting concept - the idea that they may be playing into the beginning of Buck recognising that his relationship with Eddie is changing and different in the same way he slowly figured out Abby had left him - only this time it’s changing in the opposite direction - stronger more unbreakable and allows him to be his true self - well that would be an amazing piece of storytelling in my opinion.

Now obviously alayna and the wardrobe team wouldn’t have known way back in the beginning of s2 that the story was going to head in this direction, but a great designer can make choices that they made in previous seasons work for them in future ones. So to me it feels like this sudden switch back to jeans is deliberate and about tying into the past to move and change things in the present/future. Alayna knows the full arc Buck is on and the fact she’s chosen now to do this when she could’ve done it at any point or not done it at all tells me all I need to know!

Would you like some other things we’ve got going on with this outfit?? I thought you would and I’m here to serve!

We’ve seen Buck in a spotty shirt like this one exactly twice before - 2x14 when he’s at a diner with Maddie talking about Buck finding his own apartment and Maddie going back to hers and going on her second first date with Chim.

Side bar - This is the episode we ‘hear’ of Tommy in the present tense - funnily enough to save Eddie - which in light of Eddie Tommy bestism were about to get is making me chuckle (it’s clever writing and retcon) in technical terms it’s the only reference we have of him as still working for LAFD - all his other appearances are in begins episodes so ‘historical’ rather than in the present!

And then we see a different spotty shirt when he goes to see Chase Mackey in 3x04

There’s also the other dark short sleeved button ups we see him in - not spotty, but striped - the one in 4x14 when Taylor comes back,

The most awkward I love you in the history of television in 5x09 has Buck in dark navy blue with vertical stripes (I don’t have the ref picture handy as I’m on my phone but I’ll come back and add it later 😎🤓)

Then we have 6x10 and the buckley-Han family get together where everyone finds out buck has donated his sperm to Connor and Kameron

All of these scenes are pretty key moments in Bucks arcs and what I find interesting (with the exception of the first one - 2x14 which kind of fits but also doesn’t) is that they are all moments that lead to developmental regression by Buck - under the guise of growth - moments when he thinks he’s moving forward but is in fact either side stepping or going backwards. Suing Bobby and the fire department is obviously the loudest of these moments, but they all fall into this category.

2x14 is perhaps the most interesting and relevant (what with the pattern being almost the same) in reality it’s a scene about Maddie moving forward and getting on with her life - that happens to also include buck getting his own apartment rather than camping out in her dining room. Thing is Maddie talks about going to therapy and putting in the work to feel and find normal in the aftermath of a major traumatic event. In some ways the chase Mackey spotted shirt kind of also falls into this same category - the aftermath of a major (or two) traumatic event for Buck and him trying to get back to his normal (he’s just going about it all wrong)

And here in season 7 we have Buck back in a dark short sleeved spotty shirt in the aftermath of a major traumatic event (Bobby and Athenas Cruise disaster - he couldve lost his dad) trying to get back to normal (something we’ve seen him trying to do for the back half of s6 obviously) and I can’t help but wonder - with Oliver talking about Buck getting off the hamster wheel he’s been stuck on - whatever happens whilst Buck is in this shirt is going to be a major catalyst for him. its going to set him off on his arc for this season and we'll to put in the work his sister did post killing Doug and actually move forward and learn about himself in the process. What that looks like I don’t know but the scene this is from is going to be key to his escape from repeating his past mistakes and actually growing towards his happiness.

The costume department haven’t let me down yet so I’m feeling pretty excited for that scene!

#I’m telling you this scene is the catalyst!!!#mini meta #buck costume meta #kym costume meta #911 stills #911 spoilers #911 abc #evan 'buck' buckley #7x04

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shoujo-wizard · 4 months ago

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@lexirosewrites here's the ask i told you i've been putting too much detail into, i call it Haunting of Harrington House it's more details on the ask i sent quite awhile ago of a/b/o steddie haunted house AU this is very long so it is under the cut

it involves slightly better harrington parents, but they still aren't the best the emotional neglect is very present, it isn't very steddie or buckingham coded yet so i didn't tag it as either these r just broad initial details

O!Steve A!Robin

Steve grew up in a relatively cosmopolitan town in Washington near Seattle. His father and mother were big shot lawyers with little time for him. He was mostly a check on the to-do list for a "picture perfect" marriage, his designation as a male omega wasn't unexpected or shunned as the Harrington family apparently had a long history of male omegas. But they were still much too busy so every school break they'd dump him at his maternal grandparents house a few towns away. When there wasn't a school break he was primarily in the care of a nanny till his 15th birthday when it was deemed he knew how to take care of himself & be safe abt it.

He grew up learning next to nothing about his paternal grandparents aside from what was essential to a family tree project here & there. Steve knew his middle name, Oliver, came from his great-grandfather & tht said great-grandfather was a male omega as well. Richard Harrington never divulged more than the necessary information that Steve needed for school: his grandfather's name was Elijah Harrington, his grandmother's name was Amelia Smith before she married Elijah, his ancestors were some of the first settlers of the area that would grow into Hawkins, that his grandparents lived there their entire lives

Well time passed as it's wont to do, Steve graduated high school & decided to study Library Sciences as a long-term goal. Despite their estranged relationship his parents were supportive of this choice, but his father drew the line at looking at schools in Indiana. Richard told Steve he'd left Indiana & specifically Hawkins for a reason. He never told his son what tht reason was.

Steve thrived in college, getting a Bachelor in Information Science eventually getting into a Masters program that would earn him a Masters in Library Science thus allowing him to begin working as a librarian. In his Masters program he met A!Robin & they instantly bonded after a disaster of a Socratic seminar where they ended up on the same side of a heated debate abt the legacy of the Library of Congress. When Steve graduates his parents r nowhere to be found even tho they'd promised & even shared w him their travel plans tht would get them there on time. So he goes thru the motions of celebration till he gets a call from an unknown number. It's the police, his parents had been involved in a serious car accident after swerving to avoid a drunk driver. They'd both been pronounced dead at the scene. His parents were dead.

The next two weeks r filled with meetings with his parents lawyer, finding appropriate coffins, alerting business partners & friends alike to the deaths, & then getting acquainted with their will. The will stated that if Steve was 20+ upon their death their house would go up for sale. They'd left certain things to business partners, certain things to friends, and the rest was Steve's to do w as he pleased. he sells much of it, keeps some of it. Among what was left to Steve is the deed & blueprints & keys to a house in Hawkins Indiana.

Well, he'd always been curious & there was no more childhood home waiting for him so he gets Robin to agree to come with him to the town he'd never been to before. They get in his car & go on a road trip. They arrive in Hawkins days later & stop at a diner they happen to find on Google maps before making the final trek to the mystery Harrington house.

They come upon a historic mansion from the Gilded Age. It's unmistakably in need of work. The windows r dark & the key gets stuck before working. The electricity buzzes & blinks before coming on reliably. There's furniture covered in white sheets in nearly every room. The kitchen hadn't been updated since the 1950s. The drawing room has covered paintings, covered furniture, a large fireplace clearly meant to impress, & nearly empty bookcases built into one wall. There is no television but an antique radio as well as a 70s record player in the sitting room. There's a second fireplace in the sitting room tht is just as gorgeous but clearly meant for the personal use of the family. There's an entire personal library past the sitting room & the platonic pair r apprehensive of the state of the books on the shelves. The library is two stories with a spiral staircase leading up. Another staircase directly opposite the foyer leads up to the second floor of the mansion. The blueprints show a total of five bedrooms & three bathrooms on the second floor with the third bathroom being an ensuite to the master bedroom. There's a staircase w a door at the top leading to the attic/servants quarters. They test the faucets in the kitchen & after some noise & undeniably stale water it works. The fridge clearly needs to b replaced & the oven & stove top r dubious at best. They find the master bedroom has a gorgeous antique nesting frame tht Robin thinks might date to the 1910s. Neither wants to chance the old mattress so they roll out their sleeping bags next to eachother & settle as comfortably as they can on the hardwood floor.

That night Steve dreams.

He stands in the garden behind the mansion. The lights r all on, & he can see shadows moving within as if a party is taking place. He's in the pajamas he wore to sleep & his feet r getting cold. But every effort he makes to get to the house makes him sink into the dirt. Just as his head is abt to b submerged beneath the soil he wakes up.

They eventually end up committing to using Steve’s inheritance to restoring/renovating the mansion. The dreams do not stop. In fact when he begins sleeping in the master bedroom alone the dreams get worse. More vivid and more confusing.

It all hits the fan not long after Steve has his first heat in the mansion. He comes out of his heat a little worse for wear bc he kept dreaming in between waves of horniness & moments of care from Robin. The dreams were not the pleasant wet dreams he’d always had during his heats. He could not remember any of them, but he always awoke with a rabbiting heartbeat searching the room for eyes he knew wouldn’t be there.

So he’s a little anxious but has to get over it quickly because they had carpenters coming in to reinforce various areas tht needed the help tht week, the electricity and wiring was already renovated and up to code. Context: they’d been working with local companies through this entire process, and the workers always smelled a little nervous whenever they were around. Neither of them asked because they got the feeling they wouldn’t get a straight answer. So these workers come in to do their job. The last area they needed to work on is the attic/servants quarters. These are big people, strong people, most of them alphas, but they all stood at the bottom of the stairs to the attic psyching each other up to go up there. Eventually they go up, begin working, all is quiet for half an hour, then suddenly every single one of the workers in the attic are charging down the stairs and stampeding out of the mansion.

i haven't exactly finished this thought but im now cooking up an entire fic

#shoujo says #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #platonic stobin #alpha robin buckley #stranger things

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nowimjustastranger · 2 months ago

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We'll Be Better Tomorrow Lore

Alright guys, here's the official lore for the AU, which I'll be adding to my pinned post! And as always, my inbox is open to asks about this AU so feel free to ask me stuff!

Wesley Kash Pines & Wilford Lawson Pines are 3 year olds from Dimension Theta-44Y

The twins won't need glasses until they're in their sixties, their eyesight is exceptional.

The 20 year old Stanley Filbrick Pines that adopts them is from Dimension 90V’1

Stan kept in contact with Shermie and Ma after getting kicked out, and he starts calling them more often after the twins come into his life. It's easier to talk to them when he doesn't have to lie to them about how he's doing, and lying to them about the kids being his is leagues easier than pretending that he wasn't living in his car.

Stan's nicknames for the boys are “Jellybean” or “Bean” for Wilford and “Peanut” for Wesley.

In Dimension Theta-44Y, Filbrick was killed via bat to the head when some delinquent teens started trashing the pawn shop, one of the teens leaving their lit cigarette behind when they fled the scene, which caused a fire that ultimately took Caryn’s life (smoke inhalation/suffocation).

Ford 419”3 saved the orphaned toddler twins and brought them to Stan 90V’1 to raise as his own, offering him a house, money, and a stable job if he took them in. Stan got a day to think it over, ultimately agreeing to Ford's terms.

Stan settles down with the twins in Gravity Falls, living in a modest one-story house in town that's fully paid off and even has a portion of the utility bill automatically paid each month. Stan had a job opportunity set up for him at Greasy’s diner by Ford 419”3, working with Susan as a waiter. Stan makes good tips with how charming and charismatic he is.

The 13 year old Boyish Dan watches the toddlers for Stan after he gets out of school so Stan can work the closing shift at Greasy's Diner.

Stan gets three years to adjust to the domestic life before Ford comes back into the picture, fresh out of college.

Wesley takes up drawing (using the anomalies around him as inspiration) and becomes a famous artist and author at seventeen due to the graphic novel that Stan had Toby publish for Wesley's birthday, which seems to blow up overnight and thus becomes a series. Stan gets a scholarship for a fancy art school after graduating, visiting home every major holiday.

Will gets invested in reading books about killers and listening to true crime tapes, using his intellect to figure out who the culprit is. And, when Will graduates, he takes a leap year to work in town to look after Stan as well as save up for his own endeavor before attending an academy to become a renowned detective with the highest closing rate ever seen.

#gravity falls #mini series #we'll be better tomorrow au #lore #stan pines #ford pines #stan and ford #stan twins #dad stan pines #toddler stan and ford

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year ago

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Rose Thorn Blues | p. 1

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: The other Daily Bugle intern has been a thorn in your side all summer. But if you wanted the job, you'd have to work with him. And you'd do anything to get it.

Word count: ~7k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Banter. Criminal activity. Swearing. A bit of angst but not really. J. Jonah Jameson lol.

A/n: I think this'll end up being around 3 parts, but we'll see. This has been tumblin' through my mind since last year, so I'm glad to finally let it out lol. Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading <3

You used to enjoy the clear sky on a sunny day, the vibrating blue that stretched until it curved around the horizon. Used to love the way the lapping waves of the Atlantic shimmered for miles, its ripples echoing the sky’s image. The blue of the world before the sun came up, or the indigo quiet of a rainy day.

You even used to love how red the rusted bricks outlining your apartment building looked, tracing the tips of your fingers along them as you walked by, scarlet pebbles breaking off into your palm. The cherry glow of a late-night diner’s “Open” sign made the beats of your heart stutter, its lights reflecting off the glass and illuminating puddles littering the sidewalk. Even with the occasional rose you passed on your way to work, the red petals surrounded by thorns and overgrown weeds, you still leaned your nose in to smell its sweet crimson scent.

But that was before your internship at The Daily Bugle, before you had to write countless stories on Spider-Man all the time, and before you knew Peter, the other intern. Now, every cloudless day or trip to the ocean, hell, even the plump blueberries in the grocery store or a swirling glass of Merlot, an obnoxious red stoplight, or the tiniest cut exposing a drop of blood turned your stomach. You knew people could change you, but you’d never expected to hate the shades of red and blue — until you stared at it every day while standing in Parker’s shadow.

You’d shake your head, shove your fingernails into your palm, blink so hard your vision turned bright just to erase those colors from your mind and him from your thoughts. But you would have no such luck as you weaved your way through New York’s sidewalks under the summer sun, a barely-there breeze passing alongside the traffic. Your hand clutched your phone tight in its grasp.

On it held a photo of Spider-Man you’d just taken earlier that morning. He stopped a robbery, and you captured the moment he’d ripped off a car door to use as cover — a story that J. Jonah Jameson would love to spin into something ridiculous. You had nothing against the superhero, but it was what your boss wanted. The boss that would decide which intern would receive a full-time position at the end of the summer, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight against Parker.

He always had clearer photos and more information on Spider-Man — always seemed to get on the scene before you. You wouldn’t have been that upset if Parker actually was a better reporter than you, but that smug, chronically late asshole certainly wasn’t better than you. Not when you worked twice as hard just to watch him successfully stumble his way through this internship.

And that stupid shrug he gave you when Jameson chose his story over yours! He’d mutter, “Better luck next time,” as if you weren’t covering for his ass half the time. You weren’t sure why you did it anymore. Maybe you didn’t want to watch him get fired since this wasn’t an easy opportunity to get, but you definitely wouldn’t mind sitting back and enjoying him get chewed out by Jameson.

But that was unimportant now as you made your way into The Daily Bugle’s building, savoring the air conditioning as your breath tumbled from your mouth. This picture and the eyewitness statements you took would create a story Jameson wouldn’t think twice about choosing, especially when Parker always came in late in the mornings.

Walking through your floor’s doors, photo pulled up on your phone, you quickly dropped your bag at your desk before making your way to pitch the idea to Jameson. You’d mentally written the first half of it on your walk here already.

Your steps faltered though as you neared the office, hearing your boss’s voice echoing through the office.

“Good work, Parker. Finish it by noon, and we’ll publish it today.”

He was already here? Silently, you gritted your teeth, peering into the room. And of course, out walked Parker, one hand holding papers and the other shoved in his pocket.

“The one day you’re on time… I can’t believe this,” you quietly muttered, feeling a weight sink into your stomach. His shoulders hung casually while yours raised up and down with your breaths. His half-smile made you stare daggers into him.

He just raised an eyebrow at you. “Good morning to you too, sunshine. Most people happen to love my presence.”

You silently ignored his nickname for you as you said, “Then most people must be lying to you. What story did you give him?” You pointed your head toward the office, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“So you can go in and try to one-up me?” He scoffed, his eyes annoyingly bright and warm. “No thanks.”

As he made to walk away, you grabbed his arm despite your aversion to being near him. Even the heat of his skin made you too warm, just another reason to stay away from Parker. “I lied to Jameson last week while you were off doing who-knows-what when you should’ve been working. Now what was the goddamn story?”

The sound of other employees talking and making coffee filled the background. If you could just beat him, you’d be part of them one day. So you didn’t let up, waiting for him to answer as he looked between your hand and your eyes. He shook off your touch after a moment.

You watched his jaw tick, his eyes roll to the back of his empty head. “Fine. And because I don’t think I could handle the second-hand embarrassment. I’ll tell you that if your story’s about whatever Spider-Man was up to this morning, you might want to skip telling Jameson.”

The grip on your phone loosened a bit, along with the hope you’d put into this — into trying to prove that you were a good reporter too. But, of course, you were always stuck finding stories on Spider-Man, and too late with them anyway. Anything else wasn’t important news, not at this company.

You tried, and failed, to keep your frustration from your voice as you asked, “And how did you get here before me with that story? You’re literally never here on time and just always have some bullshit idea that’s barely a story.”

Parker just gave a short laugh, smirking at you. “And yet… I still beat you. Kinda stings, huh?”

You gave a grumbled “Piss off” before letting him walk past you this time. You filled up your water bottle, headed to the bathroom, made small talk with some woman you’d immediately forgotten the name of — all distractions so you didn’t have to go back to the desk that sat much too close to Parker, especially while he worked on the story that should’ve been yours.

When you finally returned, you refused to look at a particular person across from you — the two intern desks only separated by a half wall. You just fished out your headphones at the cheap desk with no air conditioning under the city’s hot summer.

A much-needed break from Spider-Man you gave to yourself, you continued working on a story you started researching last week. You’d gathered some statements and data about new unsafe water conditions in certain parts of the city. The story wouldn’t star on the front page of the website, or even the second. Third, if you were lucky.

The morning passed with minimal shouting coming from Jameson’s office and just a few “friendly” follow-up emails with sources you hadn’t heard back from. In the brief moments of silence between the end of one song and the beginning of another, you listened to traffic flowing through the streets below and the droning sounds of keyboards and the printer.

Only once you finished up the first draft of your article and turned to grab your notebook from a drawer did you notice a sticky note plastered on the edge of your desk. In messy handwriting, it said, “You type like a child bangs their fists on a piano” followed by a doodle of the sun, with sunglasses.

It wasn’t difficult to tell whose horrible scribbling this was. So after writing “Eat shit <3” on the back, you crumpled it up. You tossed it right at Parker’s face as you stood up, going to a meeting with one of the full-time writers here. Instead of knowing he caught it like always, you pretended it hit him right in the eye and gave him a papercut.

You didn’t look back as you approached Alice’s desk, the lead writer of the office. Her black curls bounced as she lifted her head, smiling at you. “Ready?”

“Yes, and thank you again for meeting with me,” you said, nodding with your notebook under your arm. She stood up, motioning you toward an empty office for the informational interview — mostly just asking her about her career in hopes it could help yours.

Sitting across from one another, you took notes as she spoke about herself and answered your many questions. Your writing filled one page after another, your wrist becoming sore but ignored under the weight of knowing this information could be important. When you asked what advice she would give to someone just starting out as a reporter, the silence that followed made you finally lift your head.

Alice looked at you with a soft smile while your pen stalled. “I would tell them that it’s not an easy career. And that it’s not for those without passion. You have to want this — and show it. The stories out there you want to tell… you can’t be afraid to search out the truth. ‘Leaving well enough alone’ has never been in my vocabulary.”

Your unfocused stare stayed on her while you processed those words… and the worry that you weren’t cut out for this work. There were stories you wanted to tell, but you couldn’t find the place to tell them. A cynical part of your mind shouted that maybe Parker did deserve the job at the end of this internship more than you.

The thoughts must have been evident on your face because Alice spoke again, her voice calm but stern. “Don’t worry. I see the passion in you. The best advice is to not let Jameson or anyone else stop you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile on your face. So caught up in her words, you wrote down a condensed version of her answer: Follow your heart. Your thumb rubbed over the dried ink of the page, feeling the ridges of each letter. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll keep trying,” you said, and meant it.

She let out a light laugh, the sound loosening the tight muscles in your shoulders. “You better. I’ve been rooting for you to get the job,” she whispered, giving a wink that had you laughing too.

“Well I can’t let you down then, can I?” Letting your smile fall just a little, the curve of it no longer touching your eyes, you silently hoped that you wouldn’t disappoint her. Thanking Alice again, you made your way back to your desk with too many thoughts running through your head.

Slow moments passed as you returned to your chair, the cheap thing squeaking underneath you with each movement. Still, you closed your eyes for a second, just feeling the cushion beneath you, the armrests under your hands, the backrest keeping you from collapsing. A breath filled your lungs, chest rising inch by inch. You would not wait for anyone’s permission to change the world — even if that just meant ignoring your lying thoughts to change your own little world.

Slowly, you went back through your notes, adding bits here and there that you missed while Alice had spoken. At the bottom, you just underlined her final advice… letting the words bleed into your body as you promised to keep them at the center of your stories.

It kept you focused on your article surrounding unsafe water quality in the city. Thankfully, the hours passed quickly, and you got the article up on the site by the end of the day. All with minimal interruptions from Parker — despite another sticky note that said “Thanks for the granola bar ;)” on it. And sure enough, the granola bar you had on your desk was no longer there, but you silently tossed the note in the garbage without letting him know he got to you.

Though, with no snack, your stomach was definitely grumbling as you packed up. So you made the trek to a cafe with your backpack on, one headphone in, and a middle finger aimed toward Parker when he tried talking to you, a smirk plastered on his face that told you he had nothing important or nice to say.

The summer heat hit you as you exited the building, making you strip off your office-appropriate blazer. Still, you didn’t mind the sunlight after spending all day inside. Your music drifted into your ear, the beat of it matching your steps. You turned the volume down once making it into the bakery with the best after-work treat, the pink sign outside painted with cursive words: “Pat’s Pastries.”

Baked bread and sweet chocolate filled your nose, the smell helping you forget about work for a minute. You ordered your favorite cookie, pointing to the biggest one behind the glass. Silently, you ignored the whole tray of Spider-Man themed cookies they’d begun selling after the superhero saved the store from a robbery.

Instead, you just left the shop with a bite of the cookie already in your mouth. It practically melted on your tongue, tasting better than any granola bar Parker could steal from you. The cookie lasted you all the way home, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

In your apartment, you stood in the entryway for a moment. With slow movements, you removed your shoes, setting down all of your things. You’d only been collapsed on your couch for a few minutes before your phone vibrated. Part of you thought to ignore it and let the weight of your heavy eyelids drag you into a nap, but you knew it could be work. A groan came from your throat as you saw that it was work — a comment left on your article already.

People that commented on these pieces often had few nice things to say, so you braced yourself upon opening the site. Your thumb slid across the screen until you reached the bottom. Left by some guest user, the comment simply read: “What’s new? Beaumont fumbles again…”

Beaumont. Ellis Beaumont, the current city manager. He’d certainly faced as much backlash as any other official since he’d taken over five years ago, but you hadn’t considered him all that much when researching for this article. Did he have to do with poor water conditions in the city?

Before you could stop yourself, your hands went to your laptop. Your fingers typed across the keyboard, searching for relations between him and other issues the city faced recently. What came up most often was Beaumont’s press releases after most of them. His salt and pepper hair sat tightly cut to his head, no specks of dust visible on his expensive-looking suits. In each one, he stated how he and his team would work on fixing the problem — from unaffordable housing to upgrading technology throughout the city.

It wasn’t new to see a leader promise to do something and not follow through, but something kept sticking with you while you researched. At some point, between the sun falling behind the city skyline and ordering takeout to be delivered, you found yourself with dozens of open tabs and tired eyes.

Raking a hand down your face, you let out a long sigh. You finished reading another speech where he promised to fix something, crumbling infrastructure this time — “if only we had the funds!” And cue the part where he asked for donations to his nonprofit organization or proposed a government plan that would cost the citizens in tax money. Yet… hadn’t he raised the money? The last you’d checked, the street he’d mentioned repairing still had its potholes and unusable sidewalks.

A knocking on your door brought you to it, your eyes never leaving your computer screen. You just grabbed your food and paid the deliverer with a mumbled “thanks” before walking back to the laptop.

As quickly as you could, you yanked out your notebook from your bag and wrote down everything about Ellis Beaumont — before your food got cold. Your wrist ached again as you flipped the page, continuing to fill the lines with his career, his promises, and his letdowns.

Each of his projects toward bettering the city came with asking for money — money that didn’t show back up in the work. He’d made no updates as to how much he had raised or how he was going to use it. At the end of your notes, you wrote down in heavy ink: “Where is Ellis Beaumont’s money going??”

And even as you ate, trying to watch the comfort show you’d put on, your mind kept working in the background. Had others not also wondered this? Or if they had, did he have them in his pocket already? Sleep fought you that night, making you toss and turn in bed. But you had a story.

–

Walking into The Daily Bugle, you ‘clocked in’ (let Jameson see you in the office) and dropped off your bag. With just your notes, a pen, and a granola bar so no one would steal it, you made your way back out of the building.

Right before you made it from the office, though, a mop of dark hair appeared at the door. A small part of you wanted to somehow hide, the other part unable to resist the draw of him for whatever reason. But Parker chose for you, his eyes lighting up when they caught on your form. Your following scowl was enough to make him laugh.

“There she is, our lovely sunshine,” he said, leaning against the door frame. You ignored the sarcasm dripping through his words.

Instead, you raised your eyebrows and told him, “If Jameson asks, I’m out researching a story. Got it?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Parker pushed off the frame. His smirk was enough to set you off, but then he held out a hand to block you from passing. Behind your unyielding glare, you secretly hoped he tripped over his untied shoelaces or smashed his hand in the office printer. As he came closer to you, he asked, “Where are you off to? I haven’t seen any sightings of Spider-Man.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, uninterested. Grabbing his forearm, accidentally feeling the hard muscle underneath, you moved it out of your way. “Have fun getting him coffee!” You shouted it over your shoulder, leaving him standing there while you ignored the heat on your palm from touching his skin.

You shook your hand out, waving away the memory as you took the subway over to City Hall. It had to be as good as any place to start researching where the city’s money went after Ellis Beaumont flashed a white smile and pocketed it. He probably wouldn’t talk with you, but anything to get you closer would be worth it.

Emerging from the subway station, your eyes squinted against the brightness. Still morning, the heat hadn’t settled in yet — just leaving you with a sunny walk and a nice breeze.

The building’s intimidating size rose high toward the sky. A statue of justice, a woman holding scales and a sword, stood atop City Hall — staring down at each person as you entered the front doors. The ornate architecture and grand staircase inside didn’t help settle the daunting feeling crawling in your stomach.

Still, you walked up to the man sitting behind the front desk there, trying to look as friendly as possible. Smoothing out your outfit and putting a smile on, you said, “Hi.”

He looked up with a classic customer service grin to greet you. “Hello, how can I help you?” he asked, leaning toward you slightly.

You kept your shoulders back, mustering some sort of confidence in your investigation. How would Alice do this?

With a clear voice, you directly asked, “If I was looking for records of donations for a government-related nonprofit, would they be here? I couldn’t seem to find them online.” You gave him an unassuming look.

“Typically, but what nonprofit were you looking at?” he asked, typing something into his computer. You took out your notebook low enough that he couldn’t see past the desk.

Pretending to rack your brain for the name, you said, “I think it’s called Stronger Together. I love being able to see where my donation goes — it helps make me feel closer to the community, you know?”

Your hand ready to write fell limp when his mouth pressed tight, his eyes leaving the screen to meet yours. “Ah,” he said, “Well Mr. Beaumont is not always able to update that information, as he has many responsibilities to maintain.”

“Of course, I understand. Though, I also noticed that the recent infrastructure project has yet to be enacted. Is there an update on that?” You willed your voice to stay steady, to be unwavering under the impatient gaze of this man.

A muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw. “I don’t believe the organization has given one, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working on it. He is a very busy man.”

“Busy enough that I wouldn’t be able to speak with him directly?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem too sorry at all. “We could take your number for him to call you when he’s available, but…”

“He’s very busy,” you finished, giving a smile as you bit back a pained sigh. “That’ll be okay, I’m happy to have helped the cause.”

“Yes, and we’re very thankful for your donation.” The tight grin he gave looked like it hurt his cheeks to make.

“Well, thank you for the information,” you said. Just as you were about to leave, beginning to leave with nothing to show for the story, you turned back. “I know this is quite specific, but would you know what Mr. Beaumont’s next project is?”

Another flicker of impatience flashed across the man’s face, his hands clasping together. “No, I wouldn’t, but I’m sure it will be a great help to the city whatever it is. I think there may be a nonprofit fundraiser this weekend… but those are typically closed events — for investors and friends,” he said, his smile turning less warm by the minute. “You can donate online anytime.”

“Great, thank you,” you muttered before turning around, frantically jotting the little information you received down in your notes while walking away. You swore you could feel the man’s eyes on you until you slipped out the doors.

The entire ride back to the office, this story ate away at you. Everyone seemed to be keeping information on Beaumont’s money close to their chests, even about what his supposed nonprofit was really doing.

‘Stronger Together.’ You rolled your eyes, beginning to feel like he was the only one getting stronger. And he was having another fundraiser so soon? Probably for something like conservation this time — his team would likely make a whole show of planting a couple trees and get praised for it.

As soon as you got back to The Daily Bugle, you ignored everything as you dropped into your chair and opened your computer. Your fingers flew over the keyboard to type up the notes, both for decoding your scribbled words and ensuring you kept the information in multiple places. You tried tuning out the background chatter and the gnawing worry that this whole story would lead to a dead end, but you couldn’t ignore everything…

“Whatcha typin’ there?” Parker said as he swiveled his chair around the desks to look at you. Glancing for a moment at him, you saw the shit-eating smile pointed your way.

Your face flashed a fake grin. “Your resignation letter, Parker.” You continued typing, not responding to his quiet scoff. But then he stood up, his steps gentle against the floor. He towered over you as he came around to look at your screen.

Before he could even reach your desk, you switched tabs to a blank page. Without glancing up at him, you silently waited for him to stop watching you. It worked well enough at first, your mind happily turning blank instead of entertaining him.

But he put his hand on the edge of your desk, his body now much too close to yours. The warm scent of him washing over you had your skin prickling, your fingernails pressing into your palm.

Barely heard above the blood rushing past your ears, his voice came out quieter than you’d expected. “So secretive. You won’t even share with me?”

Ignoring the glint of smugness on his face, you turned to look up at him. “So you can try to one-up me? No thanks,” you repeated, using his words from yesterday.

“But given my track record for front-page stories, I’m sure you could definitely use my help.” Parker shoved a hand in his pocket, winking at you with those stupid dark eyes. In that moment, you wondered whether you could somehow frame him for helping Spider-Man and get Jameson to tackle him.

So caught up in that happy fantasy, you didn’t catch Parker’s other hand creeping across the desk until he’d already snatched your notebook. And before you could even stand to grab it back, his leg came up and pushed on one of your desk chair’s armrests, sending it spinning.

While your legs tried stopping the chair, you heard him say, “How are you even able to read this? Okay, I won’t tell Jameson, but you’ve gotta be honest with me: do you know how to write? Or read, for that matter.”

“I was walking while taking notes– whatever, Parker. I don’t need to explain myself to your dumbass,” you whisper yelled at him, stalking over to his side of the desks. But he moved the notebook away, cocking his head to the side.

With a grin that told you just how much fun he was having, he said, “Huh, I didn’t know your pretty little head knew how to multi-task.”

You opened your mouth for a second, processing that he called you pretty, before rolling your eyes. “Must be hard to imagine anything with your smooth brain. Now give me my notebook back.”

In the background, you heard Jameson screaming to some poor soul on the phone. You hoped it at least covered up your bickering with Parker. But it wouldn’t be able to drown out the sound of you strangling him, which you were now seriously considering as he held up a finger to you.

In a calmer voice, he asked, “Are you really doing a piece on Ellis Beaumont?”

Scoffing, you reached over and grabbed your notebook from his grasp. He didn’t seem to put up much of a fight, hopefully mentally perceiving the threats running through your mind. As you returned to your desk, you glanced once more at him — and got caught on something in the look he gave you.

“Yes,” you told him before sitting down, leaving Parker and any distractions on that side of the half-wall. The last thing you heard was a sigh before you put your headphones in.

For the rest of the day, you finished writing up your notes and your other assigned work. In between projects, you secretly continued researching everything you could about Beaumont and where those donations went. Site after site returned empty, most of them just filled with propaganda for his non-profit.

With weary eyes and a fuzzy mind, you finally found something as everyone in the office began to finish up. You wiped a hand down your face, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you discovered an address.

Searching through countless websites, some of which you probably shouldn’t have been using your work computer for, you combed through records of donations to Stronger Together. Most listed City Hall or Beaumont’s address in their donation. But one other address continued popping up more than a few times — somewhere in upper Manhattan, far from where the organization would operate from.

If you were listening to Alice’s advice to follow your heart, you would’ve stayed home. Your pounding pulse yelled at you that going to check out this address after sunset was the worst idea you’d ever had.

On your walk home and all through dinner, you pushed back against the trickling fear down your spine — caused by the ice-cold voice in the corners of your mind filled with every worst-case scenario. It only grew louder as you neared the address.

You hadn’t done much field work before, or any that hadn’t just involved taking blurry pictures of Spider-Man and making New Yorkers talk to you. As you walked along the sidewalk with your shoes tapping against the cracked concrete, following the directions on your phone, you wondered whether you were cut out for this. You kept your head on a swivel and senses alert, but did you have any clue what you were going to do once you reached the building? No, not really.

You had come after dark, so breaking in certainly didn’t seem out of the question. And as much as you disliked thinking about him, knowing that Parker wouldn’t back away from this if he were here kept your legs moving.

Before long, with a warm breeze at your back, you came up to a large warehouse. It sat in a pretty empty area — one with few people around that you could see. A few street lamps illuminated the space around it, the light stretching down a small alleyway next to the building. Craning your neck, you began walking down it, seeing whether you could peer in anywhere.

Your fingers brushed along the building’s side as you passed by several dark windows. Unable to spot anything through them, you crept toward the back. No workers, or anyone really, seemed to be there. Nothing except for a metal fire escape. It seemed to lead up to a door with more windows lining either side. Fluorescent lighting shone from inside.

Swallowing hard, you forced your body to walk toward it. Each step you took up went slowly, trying to keep your feet silent as you climbed the stairs. Under the weight of the stars and night sky, even with the sounds of traffic passing by, each breath felt too loud.

Silently wishing to anyone that’d listen, you hoped no one stood on the other side as you slowly looked in. But you only found boxes — not all that surprising, but disappointment mingled with the relief coursing through your muscles.

Hundreds of boxes sat throughout the warehouse, lining countless shelves. You made a guess that they probably weren’t storing any tools for fixing the infrastructure like Beaumont promised. But you wouldn’t be able to find out what they held without breaking in, something you didn’t think your nerves could take.

Though… someone else could show you what’s inside.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a brief movement along the floor of the building. Someone moved into view, dressed in a black uniform and holding a clipboard in their hands. They walked to a shelf you could just barely see and opened up one of the boxes. They set the clipboard aside to pull out something… long and metal. At the end appeared to be a claw of some sort–

Internally, you winced, instantly able to recognize it from all your articles. It was one of Doc Ock’s arms. The other side was full of fraying wires, no doubt ripped apart from a fight with Spider-Man. God, why did everything always have to come back to Spider-Man?

And, in that moment, you must’ve pissed off some god of fate to deserve this irony. As you were about to pull out your phone to capture the evidence, your thought alone summoned the man. A web attached to the worker, the other end coming from the red and blue superhero crouched on a support beam. Within a second, he pulled them up to the ceiling and cocooned them in webbing to dangle there — the scene forcing an involuntary gasp escape your lips.

Spider-Man had jumped down with supernatural grace and looked like he was going to investigate the box further, but whipped his head toward you at your gasp. Your heart crawled into your throat, your hand snapping up to cover your mouth.

Racing down the fire escape, your scrambled thoughts tumbling around your head, you hurried back to the street away from what you’d witnessed. But before you could leave the alleyway, a flash of those dreaded shades of red and blue dropped down in front of you — your feet stumbling backward as you barely kept a startled scream from coming out.

“Hey, hey. Not here to hurt you. I do the opposite actually,” Spider-Man said, his hands up to show you he meant no harm. His voice sounded unnaturally deep, but blood rushed past your ears, clouding your senses. You shook your head slightly, trying to focus on getting out of there.

“But uh…” he continued, cautiously taking a single step closer, “I don’t think you live at this address. Is that right?”

You absentmindedly chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him. He’d caught you sneaking around, but was that technically even a crime? Most likely. But clearly, you both were after some pretty similar things. So, while nodding your head toward the warehouse, you quietly asked, “What’s in there?”

His head tilted to the side as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Some no-no things. Which is probably why I should handle it, right?”

“Handle it how? By handing it over to the police?” you asked, a small jolt of panic rising in your chest. “What if it connects to something larger?” Your questions assumed that he didn’t exactly know where this warehouse came from and how it connected to Beaumont, but maybe not. Still, you couldn’t risk cutting this whole thing off early and breaking the investigation apart… and the story.

“Does it connect to something larger?” he asked, his gaze never seeming to leave you. You couldn’t tell much behind his mask, but the weight of those white eyes stayed focused on your face. They watched every microexpression crossing your face, despite the urge to hide from them.

Knowing you needed him on your side, or at least to not cover you in webs, you gave him a little more. Nodding, you said “Yeah, I think it does. I’m not sure how it all fits, but…”

“But?”

Pursing your lips, you let a breath pass before answering him. Jameson would kill you if he knew you were having this whole conversation without taking ‘photographic evidence’ and helping out Spider-Man. But that man was a prick anyway.

Letting out a long sigh, you said, “Check out Ellis Beaumont’s non-profit. I don’t think the donations are going where he says they are.”

He just cocked his head, but you moved around him, ready to leave this place and those watchful eyes. Your gaze avoided his as he let you pass toward the street, though he yelled out, “Do you need me to walk you home?” You just waved him off, your pace picking up. Still, he shouted a “Thank you!” for the information as you made the journey back to your apartment.

Unable to calm your body back to normal just yet, you found yourself jumping at every noise around you until your apartment door locked behind you. What you’d seen ran through your head again and again.

What did Beaumont want with Spider-Man? Or was he working with the villains to get rid of Spider-Man? His money couldn’t just be going toward costume dress-up storage, but breaking into that warehouse alone was out of the question for you. Leave it to the superhero rather than risk your neck.

Your brain racked itself for answers, working to figure out what interest Spider-Man had in showing up at that warehouse anyway. Even into the next morning, these thoughts plagued your mind. It left you in a haze as you entered The Daily Bugle — the noise of the coffee machine and Jameson’s muffled yelling more distracting than usual.

Even more offputting was that sat at your desks was Parker, the second time he’d ever beaten you into the office. Immediately, his eyes found yours, but you didn’t have the energy to give him a sneer or a smart-ass comment. You just started up your computer, planning to type up your notes again. Your hand rubbed down your face as you waited for it to turn on, already anticipating the inevitable interruption.

Sure enough, Parker stuck his head over the half-wall, leaning his forearms along the top of it. His chin rested on them as he said, “You look rough.”

Without raising your eyes to him, you let out a long sigh. “Wow… Thanks,” you said, letting an unimpressed look take over your face. You opened your notebook, turning to the pages where you wrote every piece of information you could remember after the events last night.

Parker raised his hands up in surrender, as if he hadn’t insulted your appearance. “Jus’ saying, you seem a bit stressed. Need any help, sunshine?”

At that, you finally raised your gaze to meet his — his ruffled hair dipping over his forehead while waiting for your response.

You squinted your eyes at him, your eyebrows furrowing at his words. “...I’m not letting you take this story from me, Parker.”

“Hey, I could merely co-author this story with you,” he offered with that smirk of his. “And I’m sick of writing about Spider-Man’s favorite restaurants to order from. C’mon.” He dragged out the word, practically begging you.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you considered him for a moment and his offer. His mouth tightened, drawing your gaze down to his lips and the sharpness of his jaw. Not the time.

“You really want to help me?” When he nodded, you still didn’t believe him. With a scoff, you asked, “Are you going soft on me?”

A sharp laugh escaped his mouth. “Don’t get used to it. This would cost you a week’s worth of granola bars.”

“Aren’t you the one asking to join?” you questioned with a smile you couldn’t hide. When he didn’t budge despite his ridiculous demand, you just muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

The long groan he gave as he sat back down told you how he felt about your answer, but it was easier to ignore now that he wasn’t staring at you. Why he was so interested in this story made no sense to you — not that you thought about it long as you finally typed up your notes.

Instead, you tried to figure out where to go next, where this warehouse might lead you. But a growing fear told you that it wouldn’t lead anywhere, your research online not giving you someone to question or even contact information for Beaumont. This politician seemed to keep things annoyingly tight under wraps.

As minutes slipped away while you ran into dead end after dead end in your searching, you internally debated whether to accept Parker’s help. Waves crashed in your stomach, the tide receding far away as if in anticipation of a tsunami — one threatening to destroy you. Letting him in meant risking your story, and risking the chance that he could get all the credit for your work.

As much as you hated the idea of sharing this with him, part of you thought you might’ve been in over your head. Especially after the run-in last night. And Parker certainly knew his stuff… sometimes. Not that you’d tell him that.

It was only once your search about Beaumont and that warehouse frustratingly turned up blank once more that you let out a sigh. It seemed it’d be a story with him or no story at all.

“Parker?” you called across the desks.

The sound of his chair shifting joined his raspy, “Yeah?” You bit back a grin as you realized you’d woken him up from one of his frequent work naps. When he swiveled into view, the red spot on his cheek from where he must’ve laid it on his arms confirmed your suspicions.

Still, you had to clear your tight throat before telling him, “You can help. But only if my name goes first, got it?” Before he could respond, you followed with, “And I take the lead on things, okay?” Your stare pierced his eyes, silently begging him to not take this from you.

The small laugh he gave loosened your tense shoulders just a bit, made your fists unclench. “Whatever you say goes…” he said, nodding with the most honest look you’d seen from him. “With some exceptions though. Cause you have a lot of bad ideas I’d like to veto.”

You wondered whether asking for Peter Parker’s help was one of those terrible, idiotic ideas. You hoped not.