#holiday centric fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lewmagoo · 1 month ago

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i love that man like nobody can | rhett abbott

part of the million dollar man universe. i strongly encourage you to read the two previous parts before reading this one

description: in which a silver haired cowboy is forced to face ghosts from his past, but learns he doesn’t have to face them alone

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

w/c: 17,242

warnings: 18+ only, set during christmastime but not really holiday centric, age gap (reader 20s, rhett 40s), mentions of cheating and toxic past relationships, encounters with a certain ex-wife, smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, dom/sub themes, daddy kink, overstimulation, subspace, creampie

notes: i meant to have this up before christmas, but life got in the way. i'm very proud of how this turned out, though! don't be thrown off by the description. this fic has some drama but its main focus is the first time darlin' calls rhett daddy

It was finally December, and winter had officially wrapped Wyoming’s sprawling plains in its frosty embrace.

The sky was clear for the first time since the significant snowfall that had taken place earlier that week. The moon and stars twinkled against a backdrop of black velvet up above, casting their light upon the blanket of white that covered the earth.

It looked like diamonds.

Surrounded by the sparkling earth was a spacious, yet cozy, cabin, set upon a sprawling plot of land. And inside that cabin, one silver haired cowboy stood by the window, admiring the picturesque landscape that encompassed his home.

He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. In just three short years, his life had changed so much. Now, here he was, engulfed in the warmth of his home, admiring the Currier and Ives-esque view from his window, his heart filled with joy.

That joy had been brought into his life in the form of one very special person. The one he lovingly referred to as his little darlin’.

“I’m ready!”

Speak of the angel.

Rhett turned from the bedroom window, hand idly fiddling with the small steer skull cuff links on his black dress shirt. When he saw you, his eyes seemed to sparkle like the snow he’d just been admiring.

He could hardly find the breath to speak. “Oh, darlin’. You look incredible.” He was surprised he was able to get the words out.

Shyly, you ducked your head. “Thank you.”

He crossed the room, reaching you in two long strides. “I mean it.” Then he reached for your hand and lifted it above your head. “C’mon, twirl for me. Wan’ see everythin’.”

Giggling softly, you allowed him to spin you, and he let out a hum of delight. “Just look atcha. How’d I get so lucky?”

As he slowed you to a stop, you brought your hands up to rest upon his chest. Solid, rising and falling beneath your touch. His heart was beating fast, thrumming against his rib cage. Though his expression bore no sign of it, you knew how nervous he was for tonight.

A night in which he would receive a very special honor. But Rhett loathed being the center of attention, and he felt undeserving of this honor. He’d much rather enjoy a quiet night in with you than go to an event, and certainly not one that put all eyes on him.

“Hey,” you spoke, tone gentle. “Don’t get into your head about it. You deserve this award.”

He sighed softly, lashes fluttering. “I dunno know about that.”

“You do.” Your hands cupped his freshly shaven cheeks. “It’s a testament to all the hard work you’ve put in.”

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose against yours. “At least I’ll have you there with me. Makes me feel a little better knowin’ I ain’t alone.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He pulled you back in, initiating another kiss, this one deeper. You found yourself melting into him, warm and safe and secure. He was your safe haven. He made all the noise in your head go quiet.

Mouth against yours, he spoke, “I love you, darlin’.” Breathless. Chest heaving slightly.

“I love you more.”

He leaned back slightly, bottom lip caught between his teeth,. His gaze flickered behind you momentarily before he slowly turned you, so that you were facing the full length mirror on the wall.

“Look at m’beautiful, smart gal. Always know just what to say to make me feel better.” His face bore a look of glowing adoration.

You could melt at his feet just from that look alone. “I mean every word. You’re a good man, Rhett Abbott.”

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, but I ain’t a good man.” Voice low. Rumbly. One large hand came to rest upon your clavicle, warm against your skin.

How quickly things could change at the flip of a coin. His hand dropped lower, resting upon your chest, while his other arm snaked around your waist. He ran his nose along the side of your neck, breathing you in, and you shuddered.

“Hope y’know the only thing gettin’ me through this night is knowin’ I get to take you home with me afterward and do whatever I want to ya.”

That made your knees go weak.

He kissed the juncture where your neck met your shoulder, and then turned your chin so he could kiss your mouth. Just from that alone, you were dizzy. What an effect he had on you.

“W-we should go,” you breathed, though you made no move to slip out of his embrace.

“Uh-huh.” His kisses trailed lower, down past your jaw and once again to your neck. He breathed you in, your scent intoxicating to him. God, if he could skip this event and take you to bed, he would.

Your eyes fluttered shut as goosebumps prickled along your skin. “Rhett.”

“I know.” He turned you in his arms, hooking his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head up so he could kiss once more, deeply, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Unable to resist, you parted your mouth and let him in, tasting mint on his tongue.

Finally, he pulled away, pupils blown, breath rushed. “Now we can go.”

Dizzy, you watched him cross the room to grab his best hat off of one of the pegs on the closet door. As he placed the hat on his head, his look was complete. Black dress shirt, black trousers, black cowboy boots, the ones he only wore for special occasions.

His tie was black too, but had understated gold embroidery along the edges. Complete with a tailored black suit jacket, he looked like a million dollar man. And he was all yours.

He was wildly uncomfortable in his stiff, fancy outfit. Dressing up was his least favorite thing. He would much rather wear a pair of Wranglers and a button down flannel. However, he had to admit, your reaction to him all dressed up did make the discomfort worth it.

“Look so handsome,” you gushed. “Now let’s get outta here before we end up being late.” Before I drop to my knees right here and suck your dick.

Together, you made your way out of the bedroom and down the hallway, with Rhett announcing he was going to go out and start the truck so it could warm up. He wouldn’t let you sit on a freezing leather seat if he could help it. Your comfort was always his priority, and that was something you loved so much about him. He took such good care of you in ways big and small.

“Make sure y’ bundle up, windchill’s in the single digits,” he called over his shoulder as he pulled his own coat on.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

He glanced at you as he stepped toward the door, brow raised. “Good girl.”

Oh.

Then he was stepping out of the house, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, head spinning slightly. You’d been with him for three years, married for one of those, and he still had that effect on you.

God, how were you going to survive tonight, watching him walk around dressed like that, the most important man at the event?

Rhett had been presented the honor of receiving Rancher of the Year by the Wyoming Stock Growers Association. He would be presented with a plaque and a gift from the association, and his name would be displayed in the great hall in the Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce.

You couldn’t be more proud of him. He had been through so much, and had worked so hard. This ranch had been built from the ground up by his own hands, and his blood and sweat was imbrued into its soil.

When you met him, he was already successful and well-established. But there had once been a time when he had nothing, and found himself at rock bottom. His marriage had fallen apart, his wife had betrayed him in the most heinous of ways, and he was on a destructive path that would lead to his own demise if he didn’t pick himself up off the pavement soon enough.

Over a period of several months, he had been careless, throwing himself into bull riding, and because he was so distracted, he had suffered a plethora of injuries. It almost seemed as if he had a death with. But after one too many blows to the head, dislocated shoulders, and broken ribs, it was either walk away from bull riding, or end up getting himself killed.

So he made the decision to lay his riding career to rest, and instead, turned to working with his hands, the one thing he felt that he was truly good at. He worked on a few local ranches, putting in the hours, stowing away as much money as he could.

After a while, he was able to purchase the land you both lived on now. He started from scratch, and it took him quite a few years to get established. It wasn’t without its fair share of trials and frustrations, but Rhett appreciated the distraction, because if he wasn’t working, there was nothing to take his mind off the fact that he was well and truly alone.

He tried so hard not to let it bother him. But he was deeply wounded from what he had been through, and although time soothed the ache, he was still filled with a sense of longing. He wanted to share his life with someone. This big, beautiful cabin felt so empty without someone to share it with.

After success came to him, he became one of the most well known ranchers in the state. It was certainly an adjustment after he had grown up on a ranch that his family barely scraped by on, but the financial security was a welcome change.

During this time, he considered putting himself out there and trying to find a romantic partner. There were plenty of women (and men) who were interested in him. He could take his pick of anyone he wanted, but after going on only a few dates, he realized that most of them were more interested in his money rather than him.

So he stopped looking. And the older he got, the more he grew convinced that he would never find anyone to spend the rest of his life with. And then he met you.

He had been enamored from the moment he walked into the diner you were working at. Something about you made his chest ache. Especially when he saw the way you were treated by your boss, and the patrons that came to the diner.

He was simply passing through your town. He had no intention of staying more than a few hours. Yet after he met you, he found himself unable to shake you from his mind. You were so beautiful. Not just your physicality, but your entire demeanor.

After spending that night talking to you, he couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again. So he got a motel room in the area, and proceeded to come into your diner for the next few nights. He saw how poorly you were treated by your boss and the other patrons.

And as he got to know you over the next few days, he knew in his heart of hearts that he was meant to take you away from all of it. It was the most spontaneous decision he’d ever made, and perhaps it was slightly foolish to invite a woman he’d only just met to come live with him.

But he couldn’t live with himself knowing he could have done something, and didn’t. So he offered to give you a better life. To whisk you away from all the pain and mistreatment, . And to his surprise, you agreed.

He had no idea that you would soon become the love of his life. The missing piece to his puzzle. The best thing that had ever happened to him.

Rhett changed your life. He treated you with kindness and understanding, provided anything and everything you could ever need, and made you feel safe. For the first time in your life, it seemed, your body was no longer in a constant state of fight or flight. You could finally rest.

Now, three years later, you were his wife, and you had never been more at peace.

You were overjoyed that you could be part of Rhett’s life. He felt the same about you. Gone was the feeling of all consuming loneliness, replaced with a feeling of warmth and security. He had a purpose, and that purpose was you. After all the hardship he had endured, he welcomed this more relaxed time of his life. For his suffering, he had been rewarded with a tender hearted soul who loved him deeply. He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

Now here you both were, all dressed up and ready for a night that was all about Rhett and his accomplishments.

“Y’ready, darlin’?” His voice drew you out of the reverie you hadn’t realized you’d slipped into. Thankfully you’d had the sense to shove your feet into your snow boots and tug your coat on while you were reminiscing.

“Yep!” You held your dress shoes in one hand, intending to change into them once you got to your destination. You weren’t about to trudge through ice and snow in your nicest shoes.

“C’mere.” Rhett stopped you as you came to the door. He reached out, taking the time to button your coat for you. It brought a smile to your face, and warmth to your heart.

Then he leaned in to kiss your nose. “There, that’s better.” He guided you out onto the porch, and closed the door behind you both. He’d already put ice melt down so the front steps and the walkway weren’t slippery, but just in case, he led you to the truck anyway, prepared to catch you if you slipped on a patch of ice he might’ve missed.

Once you were safely seated in the warm cab, he came around to his side and climbed into the seat, letting out a sharp breath as he shivered. “It’s s’damn cold. My old, achin’ bones ain’t made for this weather.”

“Oh yeah, because you’re so ancient,” you teased, settling back once you had your seatbelt fastened.

“Baby, I’m pushin’ fifty. I damn near feel ancient,” came his grumble as he threw the gear into drive and began the trek down the long driveway.

“You don’t look a day over forty-eight.” His actual age.

“Ha-ha.” An exaggerated fake laugh, but you could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he truly was amused.

You leaned across the console to kiss his cheek, and he smiled, reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

As comfortable silence settled between you both, you took it upon yourself to turn the radio on, fiddling with the dial until it landed on a holiday music station.

Christmas was only a few short weeks away, and you were in a very festive spirit. It was your second Christmas as a married couple, and you were so eager to spend the holiday with him, and continue the traditions you had started the year before.

You had restored Rhett’s love for the holiday season. What used to be a difficult time for him had turned into something magical, all because of you.

His favorite thing was cozying up by the fire with you after a long day, with the Christmas tree lights twinkling in the background. It was heaven on earth.

And now you were singing along softly to carols on the radio, and he couldn’t help but smile, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You brought so much wonder to his life.

Although he was anxious about receiving the award that night, he also felt a sense of calmness, brought in by your presence. You were always his saving grace.

And as he embarked on the hour-long drive into Cheyenne, you traded easy conversation, taking the time to get his mind off his nerves for a little while.

But all too soon, he was pulling into the parking lot of the Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce, and his heart quickened a little in his chest, muscles tensing.

Why was he so damn nervous? It wasn’t that big of a deal. All he had to do was go up and accept the award, and say a few words of thanks. He’d done many more stressful things than that in his lifetime.

“Hey.” Your voice drew him from his imminent spiral. He turned his head to look at you, and you offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I love you.” You kissed him sweetly.

“Luh you too,” he hummed against your mouth. Then he killed the engine and moved to climb out of the truck.

Breath puffing in clouds around his head, he quickly rounded the front of the vehicle and came to your door, which he opened and reached his hand out to guide you down to the parking lot.

Hands intertwined, you walked toward the building, shoes crunching on stray pieces of melting salt. Even through your coat, the frigid wind managed to bite at you, sending shivers down your spine and pushing you to snuggle into Rhett’s side.

He held you close until you got to the doors, which he stopped to open for you. You rushed inside, quick to wipe your boots on the entryway mat before you glanced around for a place to hang your coat.

To your left was a small coat hallway, where you shrugged out of your outer layers and placed your boots neatly beneath the rack, stepping into your nicer shoes.

When you turned back toward Rhett, he reached out, fingers wiggling, silently asking for physical contact. You slipped your hand into his palm, and he managed to give you a smile before you both walked out into the main lobby area.

The place was decorated quite elegantly for christmas, with a large christmas tree in the middle of the room, and lighted garland framing all the windows. Soft music played over the speakers; classical versions of well-known Christmas carols.

A good amount of people had already arrived. Other members of the Stockmen’s Association. Presidents, vice presidents, and representatives alike.

“There he is, the man of the hour!” A voice called out, and you both turned to see Leo Riesen, vice president of the Amelia county branch, approaching. He smiled widely and shook hands with Rhett, nodding his head toward you in greeting.

“Hey there, Leo. Merry Christmas,” Rhett answered.

“How you feelin’ about the award?” The man asked, mirth lighting up his sharp green eyes.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I feel undeservin’ of it.”

Leo simply shook his head, scoffing good-naturedly. “Oh, quit bein’ humble. You of all people deserve it! Ain’t that right, Mrs. Abbott?” He turned to you, and you nodded without hesitation.

“Oh yes! I might be a little biased, but if anyone deserves it, it’s him!” Came your eager reply as you reached over to squeeze Rhett’s bicep lovingly.

“See?” Leo swiveled toward your husband again, flashing another thousand watt smile. “Your wife knows what she’s talkin’ about.”

And thus began a night of socializing. Rhett was not a fan of small talk, or social situations in general. He felt very out of his element, especially with so much attention focused on him. But you being by his side made it more bearable.

Although he wasn’t the most comfortable in this environment, you certainly couldn’t tell. He was practically glowing, it seemed. Smile bright, eyes glimmering. He was approached by so many people, mostly members of the Stockmen’s Association, and he handled himself with grace and humility, though his cheeks were slightly pink from all the attention.

You marveled even at yourself, because you remembered when you’d first begun attending events with Rhett. Your relationship was still so new, and you were not yet confident in who you were.

You had faced scrutiny from some of the other ranchers’ wives. Luke Tillerson’s wife in particular has singled you out and claimed that you were merely a phase for Rhett. A way to soothe his loneliness. She insisted he was only interested in you because you were young, and he would soon grow tired of you.

Back then, you had been so hurt by her words. You hadn’t possessed the guts to stand up to her and defend yourself and the man you loved.

You’d come so far since then. Now, you were secure in yourself, and in your relationship with Rhett. After all, you were the one who made him believe in love again, after fifteen years of thinking he’d never experience it.

You had the confidence to stand up for yourself, and for him, if need be.

But you had no idea that you would, in fact, need to do so that night.

Unsuspecting, you made the rounds, staying close to Rhett’s side, and putting your two cents into each conversation when necessary. Little by little, the room began to fill with guests. Other members of the association and their spouses, friends of Rhett, but most importantly, his mother.

When he saw her, his face lit up. “Hey, Momma. You made it!”

“Well of course I made it! Wouldn’t miss seein’ my boy get his award!” She exclaimed as she lovingly squeezed his hand. Cecilia was well into her seventies, but still just as spry (and stubborn) as ever. Rhett had purposely told her not to make the trip if she felt that the weather was too cold for her to go out in, but she had insisted she would be in attendance, weather be damned.

“Hi there, honey,” she turned to you, her smile wide, as she reached out to pull you in for a hug. “It’s good to see ya.”

“You too,” came your reply, returning her embrace. You were grateful to have a mother-in-law like her. Over the time you’d known her, you’d grown quite fond of her. She had told you many times that she was so glad that her Rhett had found love again. It meant so much to her that you made him so happy.

“Well, I s’pose I’ll take my seat. Talk to you both afterward,” Cecilia continued, excusing herself to the seating area, lined neatly with folding chairs.

“I’m so glad your mom could make it,” you told Rhett, smile playing at your lips. “She’s so proud of you.”

You were met with silence when he didn’t reply, and you turned, speaking his name. However, you noticed that he’d gone tense beside you, shoulders drawn toward his ears.

His gaze was fixed on something, or someone, across the room.

It was the shock of long, dark hair that caught his attention. From where she stood, her back turned, he couldn’t see her face, but even so, he knew who it was.

After all these years.

Your voice drew him back to himself. “Rhett, honey, what’s the matter?” Gentle hand on his back. Grounding him.

He took a breath, eyes still focused across the room. “I…” Before he could even offer an explanation, she turned, confirming what he already knew.

The woman who’d betrayed him so long ago, forsaking the marriage vows she had made to him. Maria.

She hadn’t seen him yet, it appeared, as she was still in the middle of the conversation. But surely, she knew he’d be here. What was she doing here at all? He had been to many events for the Association, and had never seen her at any of them.

Beside Rhett, you followed his gaze, which landed upon a woman. Pretty, with dark hair cascading down her back. She appeared to be close to Rhett’s age. When you looked back at him, his face was stricken, as if he’d seen a ghost.

You’d never seen a picture of Maria. But judging by your husband’s reaction, you knew that this had to be her.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “that’s her, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” Rhett managed, mouth dry.

Beside her stood Jackson Riggs, first vice president of the Stockmen’s Association. He looked up, and saw Rhett. A smile crossed Jackson’s face as he pointed to Rhett, and Maria’s attention shifted to him. She had an excellent poker face, but for a split second the discomfort in her eyes was clear.

Rhett had gone rigid as a board, watching as the pair approached. His chest was tight, and an uncomfortable feeling washed over him. He hadn’t spoken to her since their divorce had been finalized. That was sixteen years ago. He should have been over it by now. Seeing her again should not have this much of an effect on him.

Yet as she approached, his heart rate quickened. Unsure of what to do, you reached for Rhett’s arm, placing your hand against his bicep. A silent show of support. You were going to follow his lead, because you didn’t trust yourself not to go off on this woman.

It was jarring to see her for the first time. After all Rhett had told you about her, you had developed a deep disdain for the woman. You didn’t like to use the word hate, but that was exactly how you felt about her.

He had given you the full story. Laid it out one night, early on in your relationship, as he sat on the living room floor with you. Told you how he’d come home after an out-of-town rodeo to find his wife in his bed with another man. And not just any man, but his own brother.

It had utterly destroyed him. Not only had that moment marked the end of his marriage, but it had irreparably damaged his relationship with his brother. You had seen the pain in his eyes when he recalled that incident. Even so many years later, it was still raw and real.

Hearing that story had filled you with an all-encompassing anger. You didn’t understand how someone could be so cruel as to go behind the back of the person they loved. And with their sibling, no less.

Seeing the cause of your husband’s pain sent pinpricks of rage through you. But you remained poised at his side, waiting to see how he’d react, and how the conversation would go.

“Rhett Abbott!” Jackson spoke out, voice carrying. “Good to see you!”

Rhett cleared his throat, trying not to appear shaken. His lashes fluttered, and he cleared his throat, trying not to stare at Maria. “J-Jack. Uh, good t’see you too,” he managed to answer. Your grip on his bicep tightened slightly, letting him know you had him.

“Mrs. Abbott,” Jackson greeted, nodding toward you. Beside him, Maria’s eyes widened, but she quickly hid her surprise. Jackson stepped back slightly, motioning to the woman. “This here’s my wife, Maria.”

It took everything in you not to react.

Rhett tried to appear calm and collected, though he tugged slightly at his collar, as if to loosen it. How the hell was he supposed to react to the information he’d just been told?

“Nice to meet you, Rhett,” Maria interjected, but the tightness in her smile showed no friendliness.

You could no longer force your own smile. In fact, you were certain you were staring daggers at the woman now. Who did she think she was, acting as if she didn’t know Rhett? It was clear her husband had no idea about her connection to him. She hadn’t told him the truth.

A bitter taste filled your mouth. You realized you were biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood.

“You…you as well,” you heard Rhett say, but his voice echoed through your head, as if he was far away.

If Jackson noticed anything amiss, he didn’t acknowledge it. He simply continued talking, congratulating Rhett on his award.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at Maria. You could not believe her audacity.

She seemed nervous under your intense gaze. As if she was afraid you’d say something. You wanted to so badly. But you also didn’t want to make a scene and add to Rhett’s stress, merely five minutes before he had to stand in front of everyone.

So you held your tongue and made nice, for his sake.

“Well, guess we’d better get to our seats. Nice seein’ ya,” Jackson finally said, ending the very brief conversation. He’d been droning on about something that you had not listened to a single word of.

Maria seemed relieved to get out of the situation.

At your side, Rhett let out an unsteady breath. For a moment, he was transported back to that night, when it all fell apart. How was it possible that it felt like it had happened only yesterday, but also like one hundred lifetimes had passed since then?

“Are you okay?” Your voice brought him from the precipice of a spiral.

“I…I’m fine,” he answered.

The ceremony was about to start. You could not discuss the situation the way you wanted to. That would come later. Instead, you reached up and gently turned his face toward you. “Hey.”

His eyes met yours, and he let out a soft breath. “I’m alright, darlin’. Promise. Just didn’t expect to see her here. I didn’t even know she was married to Riggs. I mean, what are the fuckin’ odds?” He was in disbelief, and he felt so out of sorts. Entirely unprepared to stand before everyone. At the same time, he hated that this had thrown him off so badly. He should have been able to shake it off. But he couldn’t.

There was so much more you wanted to say. But everyone was making their way to their seats, and the room was beginning to quiet down. Whatever you said would be heard, and once again, you didn’t want to cause a scene.

So, instead, you ducked forward to kiss him softly, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “She doesn’t get to ruin your night. You’ve worked too damn hard to let that happen. Go up and accept that award and show her that what she did to you didn’t stop you from becoming one of the most successful men in this state.”

He managed a grateful smile, nuzzling his nose against yours. There was no time to say anything else, as it was time to move to your seats. You intertwined your fingers with Rhett’s and the two of you made your way to the front row of chairs. Coincidentally, that placed him directly next to Maria, who was seated beside her husband.

How you were going to remain composed this entire time, you weren’t sure. You forced yourself to keep your gaze fixed forward and focused on what was happening on the small stage in front of you.

The night began with Winston Haynes, the president of the Stockmen’s Association, stepping up to the podium. He went through the preliminary introductions and recapped how the year had gone for the association.

Your interest was piqued only when he spoke your husband’s name. “As you all know, every year, we honor a local rancher who is part of the association. This rancher is someone who shows great respect to the land. Someone who has an admirable work ethic, and loves his community.”

He paused, glancing out at the modest crowd, before continuing, reading off of his prepared notes. “Rhett Abbott was born and raised in Wabang, Wyoming. He grew up as a ranch kid, but didn’t establish his own ranch until a little later in life. Since then, he has built a very lucrative business, known as Abbott Ranch. Not only is he an excellent cattleman, but he’s also very involved in giving back to the community.”

Listening to him list Rhett’s achievements helped take your mind off of the woman currently sitting in your row. Instead, you found yourself welling with pride, and you gripped his hand again, allowing yourself to revel in the joy you felt for him.

“Tonight, we want to honor Rhett with the title of Rancher of the Year.”

Applause erupted across the room, with you clapping the loudest, beaming from ear to ear. Rhett ducked his head, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention, but he stood anyway, reaching the podium in a few easy strides.

Winston turned to him, wide smile on his face. In his hands was a plaque, etched with Rhett’s name. “Congratulations, Rhett. You, of all people, most definitely deserve this award.”

Rhett graciously accepted the plaque, shaking Winston’s hand. A photographer for the local newspaper instructed them to pose, just before Rhett stepped forward to speak into the microphone.

“I can’t begin to say what an honor this is. Thank you for choosin’ me, I don’t feel worthy of it, but I’m thankful. Thanks to everyone who’s been in my corner since day one. Don’t think I would’ve started this ranchin’ business if it weren’t for everyone who came alongside me and helped make it happen.” Then his gaze shifted to you, and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Most importantly, thank you to my wife, for believin’ in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

You pressed your hand to your heart, nodding at him, tears welling in your own eyes. “I love you,” you mouthed.

Once again, the room erupted into applause, and a moment later, Rhett stepped off the stage and made his way back to you. His shoulders fell slightly as he sat down, relieved that moment was finally done. But the stress was far from over, as you would soon find out.

Winston continued on his spiel, and then Jackson, the vice president, walked up to say a few words. Following him, a few other members of the association spoke, launching into agriculture jargon that you didn’t necessarily find interesting.

The program was actually quite brief, and it wasn’t long at all before it was time to move on to the second half of the night, which was a time of socializing, along with hors d’oeuvres and various assortments of Christmas desserts.

As everyone stood from their seats, the room filled with the low murmur of voices. Snippets of conversations carried across the room as people made small talk.

You found yourself tucked against Rhett’s side, ignoring the fact that Maria was still nearby, hoping that Jackson wouldn’t try to start another conversation with Rhett and involve his wife again. If you had to watch her continue to pretend she didn’t even know Rhett, you were certain you would go off on her.

Rhett’s mother came to bid him goodbye and express how proud she was of him. Several others who were members of the association stopped to congratulate him. And for a little while, it seemed that perhaps there would not be another encounter with Maria. You would be perfectly content if you didn’t have to put on a front and pretend to be nice to her for the rest of the night.

The anger you felt was an odd sort of feeling. You were not one for overt, public displays of emotion like that. But you had come a long way from the timid girl you used to be. In the beginning, Rhett had gone to bat for you. He’d defended you when you were mistreated in your workplace, after only knowing you for a few days. He came to your aid when Luke Tillerson’s wife had upset you. He’d stood up for you through it all.

But now, you had come into your own. And while you still had a long way to go, you were nowhere near as insecure and frightened as you once had been. Rhett had built you up and helped you learn how to be sure of yourself.

It was a wonder what being in a healthy, loving relationship could do for one’s self-esteem.

Your love for him ran deep. You were so grateful for all he’d done, and how he’d changed your life. In some ways it translated into this protectiveness toward him. After learning of all the pain he had endured, you would do everything in your power to ensure he did not suffer through it again.

So when Jackson Riggs and his wife Maria approached Rhett once again that night, you raised your hackles.

“Congratulations on the award,” Jackson praised your husband. “You’ve done a lot for the community. Y’should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks,” Rhett answered. He was less jarred than he’d been when he first saw Maria, but it was still surreal.

You remained at his side, eyeing the woman, and you noticed something. She wouldn’t look at him. Her eyes kept flickering this way and that, focusing on everything else but Rhett.

Something about that sent fire through you. And it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Why won’t you look at him?”

An unfamiliar boldness washed over you. The edge to your tone surprised even yourself.

Maria startled slightly, dark eyes widening. “E-excuse me?”

“Rhett. Why won’t you look at Rhett?”

She offered a nervous smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay,” Rhett eased.

“No. It’s not okay.” You felt compelled to say your piece. “Look at him, Maria. Stop acting like you’ve never met him before.”

Beside her, Jackson looked confused as could be. “I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at here, Mrs. Abbott. My wife’s never met your husband before.”

“With all due respect, she has.”

Maria blanched. “No, I-”

“Don’t. You don’t get to do that, not after what you did.”

Rhett made no move to stop you. In fact, he was very interested in what you had to say.

“Please, let’s not do this here,” she tried to reason. She looked wildly uncomfortable. It only served to piss you off more.

“You should have thought of that before you walked in here and acted like you’ve never met this man. You have a lot of nerve, you know that? Coming here tonight, knowing he was getting this award.”

“I didn’t know,” she defended. “Really, I didn’t. Not until a few days ago. Jack and I just got married last month and this is the first time I’ve been involved in one of these events.”

Jackson turned to his wife, eyes narrowed. “Will someone explain to me what the hell’s goin’ on?”

Maria clamped her mouth shut, as if unsure of what to say.

You folded your arms across your chest. “Go ahead. Tell him how you betrayed Rhett.”

“I…” Her eyes grew tearful, and she shook her head. “That was so long ago. It shouldn’t matter.”

Shocked, you stared at her for a moment.

“No, you don’t get to do that. Rhett might’ve moved on from what you did, but I didn’t. He told me everything. How you went behind his back. How you broke your vows and cheated on him with his fucking brother. And you want to come here and act like you don’t know him? Like he just simply forgot what you did to him?! No, that’s not gonna fly with me.”

Jackson’s face was slack with shock. “Maria…is that true?”

You noticed she still refused to look at Rhett. She nodded her head, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and ruin her makeup. “It’s true,” she whispered. “I-I know I should’ve told you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t tell him you’re sorry. He’s not the one you cheated on. Tell Rhett.” You stepped forward slightly. “Look at him, Maria. Look my husband in the eye and tell him you’re sorry for cheating on him with his brother.” You were so fucking angry. You wanted her to pay penance for what she’d done. For breaking Rhett’s heart and spirit.

“I don’t—”

“You never did apologize.” Rhett spoke for the first time. Maria finally managed to look at him. “After everythin’. I never got so much as a “I’m sorry” outta your mouth. You blamed everyone else. First it was fuckin’ Perry’s fault. Then it was my fault, because, what, I wasn’t home enough? I was always off at the rodeo? As if that gave you the green light to fuck another man in our bed.”

“Jesus Christ, Mar.” Jackson was not handling the news well.

“No matter how many times I was away from you, I never looked at other women. Not once. Because I knew you were waitin’ for me at home, and I’d never go behind your back like that.”

Maria was floundering. “That was fifteen years ago, Rhett.”

“Sixteen,” you corrected, tone sharp. “Coming up on seventeen, actually. You owe him an apology for everything you did. So give it to him, Maria. Apologize.”

Bottom lip quivering, she forced herself to speak again, knowing she could not talk her way out of this situation. “Fine,” she managed, regret clear on her face, “I’m sorry, Rhett. I-I was so wrong to do what I did. I’ve regretted it every day of my life since then.”

The air between you went still. Quiet.

Rhett’s shoulders sagged.

You lifted your hand to rest it reassuringly against his back. Waiting for him to speak. To decide if he would accept her apology. It was his choice, not yours.

“Thank you,” was all he managed, voice gravelly, full of unspoken emotion. There was no I forgive you.

Jackson sighed, clearly embarrassed by the whole situation. “I should apologize, too. I promise you, I had no idea about any of this. I think I’ve been played for a fool,” It was clear he had much to discuss with his new bride.

“I’d say you have,” you agreed. Then you looked at Maria again. “But maybe I should thank you, in a way. Because if he hadn’t left you, I never would have met him. I love this man the way he deserves. And I’ll defend him ‘til the day I die.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, you wondered if she was even truly sorry at all, or if she was simply sorry she got called out. Either way, she was speechless.

“Again, I’m sorry. We’ve got a lot of things to discuss,” Jackson was the one who broke the tense silence, glancing ruefully at his wife. “I wish I would’ve known about this sooner. Could have saved us all a lot of embarrassment.”

“You didn’t know,” Rhett stated, “simple as that. But it’s over an’ done with now. If you’ll excuse us, m’ wife and I are gonna head home. Good luck figuring all your shit out. It ain’t my problem any longer.”

With that, he gently took hold of your arm, and guided you away from the dismayed couple. The small shock of adrenaline and boldness you’d felt when you went off on Maria was beginning to fade, and now you felt just a little embarrassed. But you did not regret sticking up for Rhett, not one bit.

“I-I’m sorry, maybe I-”

“We’ll talk about it outside,” Rhett told you as led you to the coatroom.

You didn’t say anything more, focusing on getting your coat on and changing into your boots. You couldn’t read your husband’s expression. Was he upset with you for confronting his ex-wife? Had you embarrassed him?

These thoughts plagued you as you sauntered out into the frigid night, and you worried that maybe you’d overstepped. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted you to say anything. Maybe he’d been content to just pretend he didn’t know Maria, as she’d done to him, and carry on as if everything was fine.

As you walked to the truck, the silence drove you to speak again, because you simply could not take it any longer.

“Rhett, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have— oh!”

In an instant, he grabbed you, swinging you around and pushing you (carefully) against the door of the truck, his hand at the back of your head to keep it from bumping the window. You gasped in shock, and barely had time to register what was happening before his mouth was on yours in a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

Heat gathered in your belly, traveling through your extremities, down to your fingers and toes. Almost instantly, you relaxed, tension melting from your body in waves.

When you parted, your breathing was labored, and your head was spinning.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Rhett breathed, chest heaving slightly. His eyes were narrowed, lips parted.

Still trying to gain your bearings, you said, “it wasn’t too much?”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, darlin’. Maria needed to hear all that comin’ from someone who wasn’t me, and you were the best person for that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was worried that maybe I overstepped. I don’t ever want to embarrass you. Least of all tonight, of all nights.”

He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Y’didn’t embarrass me one bit. I’m glad you said somethin’. I felt like a goddamn idiot, just starin’ at her. Kinda didn’t know what to say. You’d think, after all these years, I would’ve thought about what I might say to her if I saw her again. But then you took all the words right outta my mouth.”

“Well I just couldn’t get past the audacity of pretending she was meeting you for the first time. That made me so mad, I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore. After what she did, I wasn’t about to let her act like nothing even happened.”

Rhett kissed you again before he spoke. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. Watchin’ you stand up for me…” he trailed off, his face only inches from yours, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Honey, you have no idea how sexy that was. I was watchin’ you the whole time, just amazed. You’re hot when you’re pissed.” He finished his words with a grin, though there was a huskiness to his voice.

Your heart fluttered within your chest, mouth going dry suddenly. “O-oh,” was all you managed, breathless.

His expression grew desirous, and he ducked in nice and close, hands against the truck, bracketing either side of your head, caging you in. “You looked like one of them hissy, spittin’ little kittens.” Another kiss, this one deeper, more salacious.

When his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, allowing him access. Your knees went weak, and you whimpered into the kiss.

Reluctantly, he broke away, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Here’s what’s gon’ happen, darlin’,” he drawled. You had to process his words for a moment, your head fuzzy. “I’m gonna take you home. Then I’m gonna get you outta this pretty little outfit and make love to your cute body all night long. You deserve a reward for bein’ so good to me.”

You whined softly, nodding your head. It was as if your ability to speak had left you completely. That was the effect Rhett had on you. It was a wonder how you could go from angrily telling off Maria, to melting under your husband’s touch no more than ten minutes later.

“Let’s go home.” He guided you into the truck, and once you were safely inside, he came around to his own side, and within seconds, he’d started the truck. Hurriedly, he turned on the heat, letting the interior warm up a bit before he pulled out of the parking lot, relieved to be leaving this stuffy event.

As he turned onto the main road, you leaned over the console, head resting upon his shoulder. If you were being truthful, that whole altercation with Maria had zapped your energy. Funny how something like that could affect you so much.

You’d been harboring that anger toward her for a while. And when you saw her, it boiled over like a kettle left on the stove for too long.

But you did not regret the confrontation. Not one bit.

And now, you were the one that got to go home with Rhett, not her. You were going to end up naked in his bed that night. Not her. He was all yours. And always would be.

Perhaps, along with your anger, a fiery sense of possessiveness had washed over you. And maybe, just maybe, you had wanted to flaunt the fact that he was your man, and you loved him like no one else could.

And as you reflected on that, you found yourself nuzzling closer to Rhett, mouthing at his neck, breathing in his scent. Spicy and earthy and slightly sweet, from both the cologne and the aftershave he wore. But then there was that underlying scent that he naturally possessed. An almost musky, manly scent that could only be described as Rhett. You swore you could get drunk off that scent.

He pervaded all your senses. All you could see, smell, hear, taste, feel, was him. And god, it drove you wild.

“Whoa there, darlin’. Be patient now, ya hear? We’ve still got a while before we’re home,” Rhett reasoned with you. You hadn’t realized you’d started trailing your hand along the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to his cock, hidden by his well fitting trousers.

He was certainly not opposed to messing around while driving, however, he wanted to get you home so he could truly take his time with you. He didn’t want a rushed hand job in the car, he wanted to worship you.

But you whined softly, sucking on his neck, tongue soothing over the heated skin. “I wan’ you,” you mumbled, rather pitifully.

“I know. An’ you can have me. After we get home.”

But you kept suckling at his pulse point, and your hand kept traveling higher, and you made the prettiest little sounds, your neediness driving you. You were testing him. Seeing if he’d stop you.

He gasped softly when you gently grasped his dick through his pants, hips shifting slightly. But the hand that wasn’t on the wheel came to rest heavily upon your own, and in a quiet, stern voice, he said, “I told you to wait.”

There was something so commanding in the way he said it. It made you draw your hand away from him instantly. “Sorry.”

He lovingly squeezed your thigh to show you he wasn’t upset. “Just you wait ‘til I get you home, honey. Gonna lay you out and fuck you nice an’ proper, the way you deserve.”

You knew he would fulfill that promise. Your belly filled with butterflies as you pictured what was to come. As of late, you had been exploring some new things. Delving into kinks you had not tried before, yet found yourself interested in.

Rhett was very good about taking things at a slow pace. He knew what he liked, and had already experimented with a lot of things over the years. For you, however, it was different. You had been much less experienced than he was when you met him. You had been with a few people, but had never truly been satisfied.

No one had cared enough to take the time to learn every inch of your body, so they could bring you the most pleasure imaginable. No, Rhett was the only one who had done that. He was the only one who cherished your sexuality and submission. Who saw you as a person, rather than an object for his own pleasure.

And when he’d first brought you home to the ranch, his intent had not been to get you into his bed. In fact, he resisted sleeping with you at all for the first six months of living together, because he did not want to make you feel pressured, after all the negative experiences you had been through.

In fact, you were the one who had initiated sex in the beginning, because you wanted him so badly, and yearned to experience that intimate connection with him.

And oh, how much you had learned since then. You had been expanding your sexual escapades and trying new things. You let Rhett introduce you to the different desires and kinks he had, and you had become rather comfortable expressing your own needs and wants to him. He had worked with you on that. He knew how important communication was, and he was adamant that you were open with each other.

As of late, you had begun to delve into the realm of dominant and submissive roles. Naturally, Rhett was the dominant one when it came to sex. It was how you preferred it, and he assumed that role with ease. But you had only just begun to partake in more intense and involved scenes.

You had never known what true release could feel like until he guided you through one of those more drawn out scenes. It was the first time you had ever entered into that floaty, euphoric state known as subspace. There was something so raw and beautiful about that experience.

And tonight, he planned to bring you there again.

When he finally pulled into the long driveway that led up to the house, you were squirming in anticipation. You knew that once you crossed over the threshold into your home, that you could turn your brain off, and give him full and complete control. No more worrying about stuffy rancher’s events or conniving ex-wives.

All you had to focus on was being his obedient little girl.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” Rhett shut the truck off and then quickly climbed out into the chilly night, coming around to open your own door for you, large hand grasping your own to guide you down from the truck.

Together, you hurried up the porch steps, and Rhett swiftly unlocked the door, stepping aside for you to head into the inviting warmth of the house, with him following suit seconds later. He shut the door behind him, blindly reaching for the light switch beside the door, which soon bathed the entryway in soft light.

Normally, the first thing you did after coming inside and getting settled, was head into the living room to turn the Christmas tree lights on. But right now, you were rather distracted.

You could already feel yourself slipping into that more submissive headspace. Something that was a bit new for you, with your recent and more involved exploration of the dynamic. But you welcomed it like you might welcome a warm hug.

It was new for Rhett, too, as he was just beginning to grow accustomed to your tells. He noticed that your eyes would go a little unfocused. Your posture would change. You would become more clingy. Not that he minded, of course. He loved watching that shift in your demeanor. It filled his chest with warm, protective vibes.

You had discussed these things extensively before you even started participating in this dynamic. Rhett made sure every base was covered, because he wanted this to be a good experience for you. He wanted you to feel safe and comfortable. And you, in turn, wanted that for him.

It was all built on trust. You trusted each other implicitly. And there were safeguards in place, for both of you.

You were still learning as you went. All your likes, dislikes, things you wanted to try, so on and so forth. The possibilities were endless, it felt like. But there was one thing you were still uncertain of. And that was how to address him.

Oftentimes, you found yourself calling him Sir during these scenes. Yet it didn’t feel quite right. It didn’t roll off the tongue. Didn’t suit him. In your mind, you knew of the perfect title. The name that encapsulated everything he was. A title that was not only rooted in kink, but also in trust and reverence.

But you hadn’t spoken the name yet. Despite all you had done together up to this point. How deep into subspace he’d coaxed you. That title? Daddy.

Perhaps it was partly because there was a little part of you that was embarrassed. Shy. Despite the fact that you had no reason to be. But you had not discussed the title with him yet. You hadn’t found the right time to bring it up. And yet, it was always on the tip of your tongue when participating in kink settings. One day, you would slip up and say it, you were sure of it.

How would he react? Would he tell you not to use the name? Or would he revel in it, and encourage you to use it again and again?

You would soon find out.

“C’mere.” His voice, velvety and deep, was suddenly in your ear. You were brought back to the present as he knelt down before you, gaze earnest. “Up.” He lifted your leg, carefully tugging your boot off your foot. Then, he did the same for the other one, leaving you standing in your stocking clad feet, staring down at him.

That quiet act of dominance made your brain go a bit haywire.

Then he rose to his full height and eased your coat from your body, taking the time to hang it in the hall closet before he turned back to you. At some point, he’d already removed his own boots and coat. Huh. You must’ve been daydreaming when he did that, as you had no recollection of it happening.

Then he was crowding your space, solid and steady against you, hands moving to rest upon your hips. “Look at me.”

Your gaze flickered to him.

“I wan’ take care of you tonight. Show you how proud I am, how much I love ya.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Be a good girl and go up and get ready for me. Clothes off. Make sure you’re on your knees.”

You replied affirmatively. Or rather, you tried to, but your mouth was loose around the word, and your head felt as if it was filled with cotton. Somehow, you managed to verbalize your answer in the end. “Yes sir.”

You turned, and on unsteady legs, you made your way to the staircase. Rhett watched you ascend the steps, and while you went up to ready yourself for him, he took a moment to get into the right headspace.

He took his role very seriously. Your submission was precious to him. A sacred, priceless gift that he deeply cherished. Seeing you embrace that part of yourself was one of the most beautiful things he had ever had the privilege of witnessing.

He had to enter into the proper headspace to be able to handle that gift in the way that you deserved.

He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. He pictured you, so obediently doing what he’d instructed. Removing your clothes. Lowering yourself to your knees, ready and waiting for him. So perfect. All his.

He rolled his neck, releasing the tension in his shoulders. Letting the day’s stressors melt away. Pushing it all aside. Now, it was time to focus on you.

He let a few moments pass, giving you adequate time to prepare. Then, he climbed the stairs, passing through the hallway until he reached the end, where your shared bedroom was. As he crossed the threshold, he was pleased to find you waiting for him, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

The sight took his breath away.

You lifted your head as he walked in, eyes following his movements. Silent, waiting for him to take the lead. You watched him as he crossed the room. He took his time, shrugging out of his jacket, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves.

All the while, you remained on the floor, naked.

He stepped toward you, appraising you. His hand came down to cup your cheek, and you immediately melted into his touch, body going lax, eyes fluttering shut. Giving yourself to him.

“Look at you. M’ perfect little darlin’.”

Your heart sang at his praise.

Hand still against your cheek, his thumb traced over your bottom lip. Wordlessly, you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit, holding eye contact with him as you did so.

His eyes narrowed slightly, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Oh, how eager you were.

“What do you say if you want me to stop?” He asked.

You pulled off of his thumb to answer with your safeword. “Appaloosa.”

He hummed, satisfied with your answer, fingers lovingly stroking your cheek. Here, you were level with his crotch, and you found yourself reaching up, pawing at him through the fabric of his pants.

For a moment, he watched you, enamored. His breath caught in his chest when you leaned forward, rubbing your cheek against him.

“Can I play with it?” You so sweetly asked.

It took him a moment to find his words. “‘Course you can.” He made quick work of unbuckling his belt, followed by the button and zipper of the pants. He pushed the fabric, along with his underwear, aside, before he freed his hardening cock.

“This what you want? Hm?” Gripping the base in his large hand.

Your mouth watered at the sight. He was so deliciously thick.

Eagerly, you leaned forward, gently taking hold of him, feeling it grow harder in your palm. You offered a tentative lick to the very tip before you wrapped your lips around it, humming in delight.

Rhett gazed down at you, in awe of your reverence. Your mouth felt so good around him, and the sounds you made as you took him further, little gums of delight, made him shiver.

“Fuck, honey. Y’got no idea how good that wet li’l mouth feels on me,” he murmured as you inched your way down. You pulled back to swirl your tongue up and down his shaft, and he grunted, hips jolting slightly. “Yeah, fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you love it.”

"I love it,” you gasped, mouthing at him, hand still stroking. “So big, makes me so…” You trailed off as you drooled all over him, in a world of delight.

"I know it. Makes you soakin’ wet, don’t it? If I let y’keep this up, that cunt of yours is gonna start dribblin’ all over the damn floor, ain’t that right?” He was well aware how needy you got when sucking him off.

“Mhm.” You took him in your mouth again, inching down, down, down. He was fully hard now, and you had to widen your jaw further to accommodate him.

He placed his hand on the back of your head, not pushing, but gently guiding. You were determined to take all of him, and he wasn’t going to stop you, but he was going to monitor you to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself to take more than you were ready for.

He always liked to ease you into it, no matter how many times you’d done this, because he was hyper aware of your comfort, and would never push you further than you could handle.

But you wanted all of it, and moments later, you found yourself with your nose pressed against his pubic bone, against the gathering of coarse, neatly kept hair. You swallowed around him, and he hissed, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.

“Christ.”

You wished you could stay that way longer, just from his reaction alone. Oh, how you loved to pleasure him. But you had your limits, and you soon had to pull back to breathe.

As you did so, however, you brought your hand up to wrap around him, stroking his spit slick shaft, kissing along the side, humming at the taste of him.

“I love your cock,” you confessed, sounding entirely drunk already. What an effect he had on you.

Rhett grunted softly, reaching out to run his knuckles over your cheek. You were so good for him. So willing to please.

You took him down your throat once again, relishing in the way your mouth stretched around him, how it was almost difficult to take him, but not so much so that it was painful. You felt like such a cock drunk whore, but how could you resist him when he made the most salacious sounds as your throat constricted around him?

It filled you with pride to know you were the one who elicited those sounds from him. The heat of possessiveness bloomed in your chest, and as you pulled off him to catch your breath again, you vocalized it. “Mine,” you murmured against him, kissing along the underside of his shaft.

You heard him hum deep within his chest. “Oh, honey. You feelin’ possessive, huh?” He cooed.

“Uh-huh. Mine, all mine.”

“Y’got that right. S’all yours.” It came out as a growl, and it made you whine softly, vibrating with need.

You were so fucking turned on, shivers ran through your body. You shifted, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You could feel your own arousal, slick between your legs. Rhett watched you, and the way you were rutting your hips against the air, and he groaned lowly. He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to take you right then and there.

“C’mere.” He hauled you up, gently shushing your whine of protest. “I ain’t finishing down your throat, as much as I want to. When I come, it’s gonna be inside this pretty pussy.” His hand trailed down the front of your body until his fingers met the place where you needed him most.

His mouth curved into a delighted smile, the blue of his eyes darkening with desire. “Darlin’, you’re soaked.” He teased you with a featherlight touch, gathering your slick on his middle and ring fingers. Your knees almost buckled as he brushed over your sensitive little bundle.

Then he was lifting his hand and examining the sticky sheen of your arousal on his fingertips. “All this just from suckin’ my dick for a few minutes, huh?”

You simply nodded in agreement, unable to speak. You burned with need for him, to the point where it clouded your brain, and you could not find it in yourself to be even a little embarrassed at your desperation. He loved that you didn’t try to hold back. He had always encouraged you to be confident in your desires, and he was so pleased that you were.

“Get on the bed for me.”

You complied, turning to climb onto the plush king-size bed. As you settled, you watched him unbutton his shirt, shrugging out of it and carelessly dropping it on the floor. His pants and underwear were pulled the rest of the way down his legs, and soon, he was just as bare as you were, cock bobbing heavily as he stepped toward you.

He was breathtaking. Naked as the day he was born, body decorated with both tattoos and scars from his youth. Markings that each held a special origin story. All of which he’d told you during the countless nights you lay in bed with him, tracing the scars and ink.

You were still riddled with disbelief over the fact that he was yours. This strong, determined, loving, gentle, beautiful man had pledged himself to you, ‘til death did you part. Oh, how lucky you were.

“Look at me.” His voice, low and smooth as velvet, swirled around you like the heady smoke from the hand carved pipe he liked to puff on every evening.

Your eyes flickered up to his. A gaze so intense you feared you might disintegrate beneath it. He climbed onto the bed, maneuvering his body over your own, straddling you, cock brushing against your abdomen as he moved.

He was so big above you. You might even say imposing, if you didn’t feel so safe and protected with him. He was broad. Deceptive strength hiding within the sinew of his being, from years of intense physical labor.

God, you wanted him to consume your every sense. Wanted him inside you, surrounding you, body warm and steady against yours, scent filling your nose, moans filling your ears. You wanted it so badly that you were growing impatient.

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically, wanting to be filled. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips, trying to coax him to slip inside you. But he had other plans.

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, little darlin’. Ain’t gotta rush.”

“But I–”

“You’ll get it, I promise. But let me take my time with y’ first, wanna enjoy my baby.”

He wanted to worship you the way you deserved. So he began his descent, kissing you languidly on the mouth, tongue delving past your lips, tasting you, relishing in the whine you let out. When he pulled back, your mouth was spit slick and your eyes had gone a little unfocused.

With a delighted smile, he continued on down, kissing your chin, then trailing down the column of your throat, teeth lightly scraping at the skin, soothing over it with his tongue. God, he was addicted to the taste of you.

“Could just eat you up,” he murmured against you.

Your hands found their way to his hair as he went lower, kissing along your chest, down your abdomen, down, down, down until he reached your thighs. There, he settled, large hands gripping each of them as he kissed the delicate skin along the inside.

He peppered little love bites there, and the sound of your breathy little gasps and moans was music to his ears. He loved your body. He loved making you feel good. And he always felt a swell of pride, knowing he was the only man who had this privilege.

There had been a few others before him, but you had confessed that they had no idea how to pleasure you. They hadn’t brought you to the heights of bliss that he had. They had been poor lovers, unconcerned with your own desires. Careless.

He had shown you how good it could be. And now that you’d gotten a taste, you couldn’t get enough. Neither could he. Even though time had passed, he was still just as enamored with you, if not more so.

“Gonna make you feel so good, honey,” he lulled, as his fingers carefully parted your glistening folds. “S’what you deserve.”

He gazed up at you through hooded eyes, gauging your reaction as he offered a tentative lick, tasting you, teasing you. You were breathtaking above him, body undulating in anticipation of what was to come, chest heaving. Even as you hands remained in his hair, fingers threaded through the silver locks, you showed no instinct to steer him, to force him to hurry, despite the fact that you did want instant gratification. He’d told you not to rush, and you would obey, just as you always did.

Murmuring soft praises, he lowered his eager mouth slowly into the honeyed warmth between your thighs. And oh, how messy you were, dripping down his chin as he licked into you, savoring in the heady taste. His hands held fast at your thighs, forcing them wider apart.

Let me in, pretty thing. My sweet baby.

Jus’ relax, yeah? Lemme eat this pussy for a while.

You obeyed his commands, which were muffled against your cunt, letting him devour you as he saw fit. You let out the sweetest little squeak of delight, and he couldn’t help but smile against you, wanting to draw more of those sounds out of you. So unashamed of your pleasure, wanting him to know how good he was making you feel.

He buried his face even further between your legs, mouth lapping at your wet folds, intoxicated with the taste of you, uncaring if he came away with his mouth soaked. That was what he wanted, after all. The messier, the better.

You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut as you lost yourself to the feeling of his mouth against you. He noisily slurped at you, humming in satisfaction. As always, he got just as much pleasure out of this as you did.

When you lifted your head to gaze down at him, he locked eyes with you, and finally wrapped his lips around your neglected bud, sucking firmly, listening to you cry out his name, growling when your fingers tugged at his hair.

Your back arched off the bed, body engulfed in the throes of warm bliss, fizzing through your bloodstream.

Eager to hear you call his name again, he flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes fixed on the way your head rolled back, chest jutting out, heaving in time with your labored breaths.

Yes, right there, don’t stop.

He sucked on your clit until your legs began to tremble around his head, muscles involuntarily twitching as you lost control of some of your motor functions, brain clouded with desire, experiencing a sensation that was out of body, not of this world.

If he kept going, you knew you’d quickly fall apart. But as you began to grind against his face, he pulled back away, burying his nose against the apex of your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, a sharp contrast to the pleasure you had just been feeling.

The way you sobbed into the open air made him shiver, driving him to continue, determined to draw that beautiful sound from you again.

He soon brought his fingers into the mix, teasing you with them, dipping them inside you, groaning softly at the feeling of your velvety walls, which would soon be clasped around his cock.

But first, he had a different idea.

You deserved as many orgasms as you could handle, after what you’d done tonight. And he was determined to give them to you. Starting with one on his tongue.

So he dove back in, fingers still inside you as he began to swirl his pink tongue around you. You kept one hand in his hair, but the other flew out to the side, gripping at the quilt beneath you.

You were losing yourself, he could tell. Gone was your restraint, replaced with unabashed moans and whimpers, growing all the more desperate for release as time went on. He loved when your reservations went out the window. When you let yourself succumb to that sexual energy thrumming through your body.

As you trembled above him, he hastened his ministrations, free hand pressing against your lower abdomen, anchoring you, palm warm and familiar against your skin.

“Give it to me, honey,” he pleaded against you, curling his fingers within you, coming in contact with that spongy little surface deep inside you that made you see stars. “C’mon, wan’ this pussy to squirt all over my face.”

You knew it would happen, too. Before Rhett, you had been convinced that you couldn’t experience such a thing. But he had quickly proved you wrong. Now, neither of you could get enough. He loved drawing it out of you. Watching your release soak the sheets.

“Sh-shou–should g-get a towel,” you managed to stammer, barely able to find your voice, searching for the words in your brain, as if you’d suddenly gone dumb. But you were still aware that you were going to make a mess.

Rhett didn’t care. “I’ll clean it up,” he promised, gasping against your dripping cunt, so eager to taste you, to be soaked by you, molten gold, shimmering against his skin, the evidence of the affect he had on you.

Your tight little hole fluttered with the need to be filled, swallowing his fingers in, yet in need of something more, something bigger, to be joined as one with his body and his soul.

So he upped the intensity, tongue lapping at you, mouth sucking on your poor, thrumming clit, urging you on, silently begging you to let go. Come for me, fuckin’ soak me.

And you were there, cresting that peak, climbing higher, higher, higher, until, “Oh! I-I’m–” But the words died in your throat as your body went taut, moments before deep tremors wracked you, overwhelming you as you unraveled like a spool of thread in his skilled hands.

Instinctively, he buried his face deeper, lapping your release from you, his rounded nose pressed against your oversensitive little bundle. Addicted to your taste. Pleading for more, encouraging you to give it all to him.

“There ya go. Taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

God, he was still going. Fingers and tongue keeping speed, not giving you any reprieve. Even as you came down from the intensity, vibrating, shaking, gasping. You had to push his head away as the pleasure became too much, like a fire left unattended, consuming its surroundings.

He relented, pressing a delicate kiss to your still twitching clit before lifting himself, biceps flexing as he brought his body to hover over you, dragging his wet mouth up your belly, over your heaving breast.

When he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his tongue. And when he parted from you, he smiled at your fucked out gaze, big hand coming up to brush over your forehead, stroking your warm cheek, as he cooed at you.

“Such a good girl f’me. Think you can give me another one?”

You nodded.

“Uh-uh. Words, baby. Talk t’me.”

“Y-yes.” God, you could barely speak. Why did your head feel as if it was filled with cotton, your brain as useless as a stuffed Build-A-Bear’s? All you knew was that you wanted more of Rhett. More of his touch. More of bliss he could provide you with. More, more, more.

He smiled. “Yeah?” His hand skimmed down your tummy, fingers exploring, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I wanna make y’feel good. Make this pussy come as many times as she can handle. How’s that sound?” His voice caressed you like black silk.

Could you truly handle such a thing? You were no stranger to overstimulation, but somehow, something felt different about tonight. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But you felt much more…vulnerable, in a way. And now, as your husband lingered over you, so broad and solid and strong, you felt so small, so…what? Fragile? Perhaps.

Yet you found yourself saying, “o-okay.”

He hummed, thumb brushing over your cheek, then your parted lips. “That’s m’girl. You tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

Then he was pulling away, and suddenly, the lack of contact had you whining in protest as you were robbed of his warmth, of his contact.

“Hold your horses, darlin’. I’m just gettin’ situated.” He moved so that his back was against the headboard, and then he patted the space beside him, which you eagerly occupied. He tugged you close, so that you were pressed against his side, once again consumed with his warmth. It brought you such comfort.

He arranged you exactly how he wanted you, with your head resting on his shoulder, your thighs parted, offering him a clear view of your glistening apex, swollen from your previous orgasm.

As he brought his hand down to rest there, you realized he intended to use his fingers to bring you to your end a second time. Yet you glanced over to find his cock achingly hard, resting against his hip, and you made a forlorn sound of longing.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry,” he assured you, “remember, I wanna take my time with you.”

You thought you might die if you didn’t get him inside you soon, but at the same time, you wanted to be in the moment and thoroughly enjoy the reverence he wished to bestow upon you.

So you let your head loll against him, watching through hooded eyes as his thick, yet somehow still elegant, fingers began to swirl over you. Teasing, running along the outer edges of your pussy before delving in further, smearing your arousal over the delicate skin there.

He was delighted at how wet you were. All for him. All because of him. “Who made y’this wet?”

“You.” A whisper. Barely audible.

“Louder.”

“Y-you.” Your voice cracked.

His fingers brushed over that bundle again, and you hissed softly. “Still can’t hear you.” Teasing. Knowing full well what you had said, but wanting you to repeat it nonetheless.

“You did!” A cry that echoed throughout the bedroom.

He turned your face with his free hand and kissed you languidly, just as his fingers dipped inside you again. The broken moan that was ripped from your throat was swallowed by his eager mouth.

He wasn’t rough, because he knew you were still sensitive after coming on his tongue. But he was deliberate, knowing also that you needed a little more to bring you over the edge a second time. This one didn’t come as easily. He would have to work for it. But that was the beauty of it, because after this one, your body would let its guard down, and your sensitivity would allow him to draw orgasmic bliss from you much more easily.

His fingers worked you over, having mapped out your body long ago. Sometimes it felt as if he’d memorized you down to the marrow of your bones. As if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

It was why he knew you could handle this. Why he soothed you as you cried out against his mouth, assuring you that you could give him more, that you were his good girl and good girls always do what they’re told.

Yes, you could be good for him. You wanted to be. You were desperate to be. “I can be good! I-I-I promise!” You heard yourself gasping into the air, but your voice sounded so far away, so disembodied, as if you were speaking from somewhere far away and not from Rhett’s king-size bed.

“I know you can, I know it,” he assured you, his heart rate quickening in his chest as he watched you. Your eyes were unfocused again. You were practically drooling. And the way you were clenching around his fingers had his cock twitching.

“Please, please, please.” You had no idea what you were pleading for. He was already giving it all to you. But you were suddenly so overwhelmed, body hot all over, tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you convulsed in his arms, breath coming out in short bursts.

You were clutching his arm, fingers digging into his flesh, sure to leave indents, though you were hardly aware of it. Too focused on that building flicker of pleasure, so much more intense than the first, almost unbearable. Too much and just right and not enough, all at once. How was that even possible?

Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop. Right there.

You weren’t sure if you were saying the words, or merely thinking them. But then his voice was in your ear. “I can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. You’re close, ain’t ya baby?” But you couldn’t utter a vocal confirmation. You could barely even nod your head.

“Give it to me.”

Almost there.

“That’s it, just let go.”

So close. You could reach out and grasp it if you tried, like a delectable fruit ready to be plucked from a tree. Yet it wouldn’t descend upon you. Not yet. And with each passing moment, as his fingers carried you toward the crest and your body became a live wire, you were beginning to spiral.

The tears that had been gathering in your eyes poured down your cheeks. Hot against your skin. It wasn’t merely a state of pleasure he was bringing you to. This was ethereal. Otherworldly.

And then he was there, in your line of sight, mouth curled in determination, eyes hard-set. “Come.”

And you did. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, gaze locked with his, you tensed, as if your body was preparing for the onslaught it was about to experience. And then you were free-falling, tumbling down, down, down, ears ringing, heart hammering, crying out incoherent half-sentences as you were consumed.

You had no recollection of blacking out, but when you opened your eyes, you were cradled in Rhett’s arms as he gently rocked you back and forth. “I’m here. I’ve got ya. Did so good for me. Fuck, honey, you’re perfect. My best girl. My perfect darlin’.”

God, you were crying. Tears continuously streaming down your cheeks. And oh, how you shivered as you curled into him, burying your face against his chest, seeking out his warmth, his solace.

His fingers skimmed along your spine. Grounding you. Bringing you back to him. Back to your Rhett. He was not shocked at your tears. He was used to them, as they fell during most intense scenes.

But now, it felt different. You clung to him more desperately, body melting into his, as if you wished to become one with his flesh. One body, one spirit. And in your hazy state, you did not want to part from him. The thought of doing so was devastating. Unfathomable.

“I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Had you pleaded with him to stay? Maybe you had, in your delicate state. Don’t leave me. I’ll be good.

He’d never leave you. And certainly not when you were like this, bottom lip quivering, wide eyes looking up at him as if he’d hung the very sun, moon, and stars in the sky.

He held you close, lips against your forehead, fingers drawing patterns against your skin. You had no idea how long you remained that way. It could have been five minutes. It could have been fifty minutes. All you knew was that when you looked at him, he was gazing down at you with eyes so full of love.

“Hey there. Y’alright?”

“Uh-huh.” Your tongue felt like lead.

He smoothed his knuckles along your cheek. “That was a lot. I dunno if you’re ready for more,” he admitted, unwilling to push you too far. It was never, ever his goal to push you to the point of safewording.

But your eyes suddenly grew wide with alarm, and you gripped his arm. “N-no! Still need to make you feel good.”

“I’m alright,” he assured you. He could take care of it himself, if need be.

But your face crumpled, and you shook your head. “No, please, I can take it, I want…I need…” You couldn’t form the words. All you knew was that you were desperate to be filled by him, and the thought of going to bed empty was more than you could bear in your fragile state.

“Hey now,” he spoke, low and slow, as if speaking to a skittish horse. “Don’t cry, sweet thing. If you want more, I’ll give it to you. But we’re gonna take it slow, alright?” He kissed your nose.

“A-alright.”

This time, he kissed your lips. And then, gently, he guided you until your head was resting against the soft pillows. He made sure to provide constant physical contact, knowing you needed it.

As he laid you out, he looked down at you with sparkling eyes, admiring you, and your willingness to do whatever he asked of you.

Eagerly, you parted your legs, pulling at his shoulders, urging him toward you. But his movements were not hurried. “Easy,” he gently warned. His hands glided down your thighs, squeezing lightly.

Wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, he leaned over, haphazardly reaching into the nightstand drawer to retrieve a small bottle of lube. As overstimulated as you were, he had no desire to bring any discomfort into the mix. He would use the whole damn bottle of lubricant if he needed.

He warmed it against his palm before he slicked it over his shaft, and you whimpered pathetically as you watched him, yearning for it to be inside you.

How were you so desperate? As if you hadn’t just experienced two earth shattering orgasms. Yet here you were, near tears, pushing your hips up, seeking him out. Why wouldn’t he give it to you? Couldn’t he see you were aching for it?

You were losing yourself. “Please. Why won’t you…why can’t I have it?” Still tearful. If you hadn’t been in such a delicate headspace, you would have responded much differently to his hesitance. But here and now, you took it as denial. That he didn’t want you. That he was going to withhold it from you because he thought you couldn’t take it.

And the thought of that made you crumble.

You heard him, the low rumble of his voice, soothing you. And you felt him. Cock heavy against you. Sliding over you, aided by the extra lubricant. But it was not inside you. You still remained empty. And you simply couldn’t stand it.

You didn’t mean to say it. If you’d been more lucid, if you’d had more decorum about you, you would have been so embarrassed. But it tumbled off your lips so naturally, you didn’t register it until it was too late. And even then, you were vaguely aware of what you were saying.

“P-please, Daddy. Wan’…wan’ your cock.”

Rhett stilled above you, breath hitching in his throat. You were pawing at his chest, seemingly unaware that you’d even said the word. You’d never called him that before. Though, admittedly, he was fairly certain he’d heard the beginnings of it times before, when you were in the throes of pleasure. D-da— sir!

This was not something you had discussed. However, hearing you say it felt like the most natural thing in the world. The name settled into him, and it did not feel foreign. In fact, it felt familiar. Comfortable. A role he was always meant to take on.

So he did not balk when you whined it into his mouth, asking so sweetly to be filled by him. He knew reacting would be very jarring for you, and would take you out of the moment. So he simply went with it, trying the name out, testing how it felt rolling off his own tongue.

“Yeah? Poor baby. Need it so bad. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna give it to you.” It felt natural. As if he’d spoken his own given name.

He continued to use it for the rest of the scene.

As he began to inch his hips forward, he kissed you sweetly, humming into your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

And then you could feel the pressure of the blunt head of his cock pressing into you, and you squeaked softly, eyes fluttering shut. Finally. Your fluttering cunt gave no resistance as he inched into you, but the stretch was still there, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

Rhett watched your anatomy accommodate him, never one to grow tired of the sight. “Poor little pussy can barely take me,” he murmured in mock concern.

“Y-yes I can. Don’t take it away. Please, Daddy.” There it was again. That sacred title.

Oh, you sounded so pitiful, it made his heart clench in his chest. He ducked forward, mouth brushing over yours. “Hey now, I’m not gonna take it away, I promise.” Then his hand was resting against your clavicle. “Deep breath for me.”

You obeyed, taking in a slow breath before releasing it. He was bringing you back to yourself. Back to him. Keeping you from spiraling.

“What’s your color, baby?” He asked. During moments like this, he preferred to use a color system, so he could gauge where your headspace was at.

You had to search for the word in your head. It almost felt as if you were sifting through a dream, trying to return to consciousness. You heard yourself reply with, “g-green.”

He smiled, lovingly trailing the pad of his index finger over the slope of your nose. “Good girl.” Then he was kissing you again, tongue delving into your mouth, swallowing your sweet little moan as he continued to nudge his hips forward.

It was always the initial stretch that got you. Almost too much, yet somehow just enough. He was always careful. Always calculated. Never intending to hurt you by going too fast before you were ready.

But it was not always easy to hold back. Especially now, when your body was so responsive to him, so ready to take every last inch as deep as you could.

The warm, wet slide of your cunt along the length of his hard cock sent him forward, face buried against the side of your neck, mouthing at the delicate skin over your pulse point.

“Oh, Daddy.”

Good lord, you would be the death of him if you kept addressing him like that. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d like it. Hadn’t even thought about it until now. But you said it so sweetly, so reverently, and he knew it was going to stick from here on out.

“There y’go,” he spoke lowly as his body became flush with yours, every inch of him seated within you, still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

And the way you looked up at him? He swore, he’d die. Wide eyes, furrowed brow, quivering mouth. “I-I did it. I took all of it. I’m good. I’m good for you.”

His heart clenched in his chest. “Yes you are, sweet thing. So good for Daddy. M’best girl.” With the shock of pleasure that was already creeping along the expanse of his spine, he knew he wouldn’t last long. Not when you were so sweet and good and perfect for him. A precious gift bestowed upon him from heaven above.

He bent low over you, arms braced against the bed, as he began to move. Drawing back slowly, carefully. Easy there, little gal, easy.

As he thrust forward, a sob tore from your throat, but he drank it down eagerly, mouth over yours, swallowing you up. As he built a rhythm, your hands began to wander, eager to feel him, muscles rippling beneath your touch.

Rhett hissed sharply as fingernails scraped down his spine, over his broad shoulders, sure to leave the evidence of your tryst in the form of pink stripes. Markings he would wear proudly once he was finished with you.

But your hands soon climbed higher, fingers raking through graying locks. If you hadn’t been in such a hazy state, you might have marveled at how it looked like a silver halo around the crown of his head.

Instead, you were distracted by the fact that you were close once again, warmth blossoming in your lower abdomen as your cunt pulsed around your husband’s cock. He moaned deep within his chest, driving forward again, deeper still. Knocking the breath from your very lungs with how full he had you feeling.

“You’re already close, ain’t ya baby?” He spoke, voice strained, barely contained.

You nodded, eyes wide and glimmering with tears once again. You looked so innocent beneath him, and he should have been ashamed to admit what that did to him. Instead, he fed into it. “Don’t worry. Daddy’ll get you there.”

He knew you wouldn’t need a lot to get you there. He was quite certain you wouldn’t even be able to handle his fingers against your sensitive little pearl, so instead, he opted to grind deeply against you, the course gathering of hair at the base of his dick offering just enough stimulation to send you reeling.

You swore you saw stars, and your eyes rolled back in your head, body shuddering beneath him as if you were electrified.

“Daddy, I-I’m g-gonna–!” You couldn’t get the words out. They were stolen from your mouth, fizzling out, dissolving into thin air.

Your belly tensed, muscles trembling, perspiration beginning to shimmer across your skin as the beginnings of your third orgasm spread through your body. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, nails leaving crescent shapes. You cried out, head thrown back, mouth open, sobbing, begging, pleading.

“That’s it, darlin’. Be a good girl and let go for me. I’m right behind ya.”

It wasn’t like the first two crescendos of bliss you had experienced. This one washed over you slowly, sneakily, like a thief in the night, one that you didn’t realize was there until it was already upon you. And then you were engulfed in comforting heat. Not fiery flames, but a warm embrace.

Rhett’s mouth found your own again, kissing you, swallowing the pitchy sounds drawn out of you by your orgasm. Sweet little whimpers of “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”

God, it felt endless. Ebbing through you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Flowing in tandem with your life force. Bringing you to new heights of bliss. “That’s my good little darlin’. Comin’ so much for me. Little pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.” He was mere seconds from meeting his own end, so intense he could feel it vibrating through his jaw.

In the midst of your own frenzy, you could hear yourself begging him. “Daddy, please. Please come inside me.”

And then he was burying his face against your neck, teeth biting into tender flesh, hands grasping your hips tightly in his large palms. He was spiraling, unable to stave off the inevitable as you pulsed around him, milking him for all he had to give, letting him make a mess of your already sticky cunt.

A sleepy, delighted smile spread across your face at the feeling of his seed flooding you, claiming you, marking you as his.

He braced himself above you as he came down, arms trembling, trying not to rest his full weight against you. Aftershocks sparkled along his spine, pulling shudders from him as he took a moment to catch his breath, mouth hot and open against your collarbone.

As he came back to himself, he lifted his head, his first instinct to check on you, to take care of you. “Hey there, sweet thing. Y’still with me?” Fingers caressing your cheek.

Your eyes were still unfocused. “Uh-huh,” you managed.

Slipping right back into that dominant role, he leaned back a bit, fully examining your face. Sweat dampened your forehead, and more tears shone in your eyes. “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.” soothing his palm over your forehead.

Ever so gently, he eased his softening cock from you, and you whimpered, not wanting to be apart from him. But he pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you, cradling you against his chest.

You clung to him tightly, as if you were afraid he’d float away from you if you didn’t hold on. All the while, he talked to you in a steady, even tone. Coaxing you down, as if you were a kite he was guiding out of the sky. He’d never let you fall to the ground, for his hands would be there to catch you before you did.

“Did so good f’me. Beautiful baby. Did so good for your daddy.”

Daddy. That seemed to draw you back to the present, and your eyes widened as clarity dawned on you. “I…I’m sorry. Know we didn’t talk about it, but I…” You couldn’t get the words out. Could barely form a coherent thought. Yet embarrassment had begun to seep through the cracks, despite the fact that you had nothing to be embarrassed over.

“Shh, don’t you start spiralin’ on me, honey.” His hand rested at the base of your jaw, keeping your gaze fixed upon him. “You listen here. If callin’ me daddy is somethin’ you wanna start doin’, I’m more than okay with it. Honestly, hearin’ you call me that…it really did somethin’ to me. If…if that’s what you need me to be for you, then that’s what I’ll be.”

Relief flooded you. “Really?”

“Really.” He kissed you softly, lovingly. “You’re my darlin’, I love you more than words can express, and I want to be everythin’ you need.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Oh, I love you. I love you so much.”

He held you even closer, closing his eyes as he relished in your body against his. “My perfect girl. Always gonna be whatever you need.”

Looking back, you would feel a little silly for being afraid to give him the title of Daddy. But for now, you were laden with endorphins, an almost dopey smile on your face as you basked in the afterglow, and in the realization that you no longer had to hold back the address. You could utilize the title whenever you wished.

And he would assume that role with ease, wearing it like a well-fitting glove. Natural. Familiar. Right. Just like he’d so easily assumed the role of dominant. And oh, how skilled he was at it.

It didn’t end after your tryst in the sheets was over. No, it continued as he carefully laid you out against the bed, with whispered promises of cleaning you up, of taking care of you. And as you faded in and out of a blissful, floaty state of mind, he handled your body with tenderness, wiping you clean, fingers massaging taut muscles, rendering you boneless.

He praised you continuously, assuring you that he was proud of you, that you were always so good for him. Beautiful, perfect, angelic.

And oh, how grateful he was to have you to look after. Someone he could bestow his tenderness upon. Someone who loved him so wholly and completely. Although he had endured much pain to get to this point, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. It had all shaped him into the man he needed to be. The man you needed him to be.

He had a lot of regrets in life, but you were not one of them. He was reminded of that when he witnessed you stand up for him that night, unleashing your contained fury on the woman who had broken him. And he was able to stand there and watch in awe as you did so, his heart no longer in pieces, but tenderly put back together by your gentle hands.

And as he tucked you into bed that night, after making sure a clean quilt was in place, he was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Whoever had decided to bless him with your presence, whether that be God, or the universe, or some other greater being, he was forever indebted to.

You often liked to say that he’d saved you, but that wasn’t true. In reality, you had saved him. You had given him a purpose. A reason to go on. And he would cherish you for the rest of his life.

“I love you, little darlin’.”

“Luh you, Rhett,” you sleepily murmured as you curled into him. He smiled, his eyes blurring as a wave of tears washed over him.

He was yours forever. His soul was knit with yours for all eternity. In the next life, and the next, and every life in between, he would always be yours. Your protector. Your provider. Your million dollar man.

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

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duraante · 1 month ago

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petty treason

dmc secret santa for @hopeworth !!!!!!! happy holidays !!!!!!!!!! (notes under cut)

@dmc-secret-santas

HI i was super excited to make this piece, you had a very short wishlist so i tried to integrate everything on there into this!! the idea was yamato 4dante mutual hurt comfort (more hurt than comfort but there is comfort nonetheless) and i consider this twin-centric as well because vergil is implied (his favourite past time must be haunting the narrative). i was on the fence about this idea until i found your yamato dante fic. it is gorgeous thank you so much. but i thought this must be fate!!!!!! so i went with it in the end.

if you look really hard there is blood, it has actually been quite a long time since i started this piece so i lowkey forgot what it was for. something along the lines of some mutual blame between these two, which ultimately stems from self-blame. i think yamato n dante are quite alike in that regard, they both believe they have on their hands the blood of the one they love the most. but anyway. the comfort is from the fact that they have each other to share that one-of-a-kind pain with.

petty treason involves murder of a master by a servant, the punishment for which was typically drowning for women (sorry no citation here, i did this research a while ago and can no longer find it. in fact i am now finding information that directly contradicts this. oSORRY iam a bad essayist i am far from an arts major). thats why yamato is in the sea here i guess. punishment for men included hanging, i wanted to extend this idea of treason to dante as well, so i tried to have the water splash up to form a noose around his neck. it failed evidently LMAO but. anhyway. take it from me guys. sketch drafts that actually make sense.

i rambled a bit HAHA sorry havent been online in like a month (dura touch grass era) i promise im not dead i wil come back soon. merry xmas, may your boxing day sales be plenty

#dmcsecretsanta2024 #dmc #duradraws #devil may cry #dmc dante

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sugary-daydreams3 · 1 month ago

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Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.

“That’s not the same.”

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.

“Well?” You ask impatiently.

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”

“Yet?”

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.

6 weeks later

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.

“I appreciate it.”

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.

“Babydoll.”

“Yeah?”

“Turn around for me.”

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”

“Yeah, you should.”

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“How about you taste this then.”

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”

“Better than fine dining?”

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”

“It’s silly?”

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.

“Thank you for sticking with me.”

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

#sukuna x reader #no use of y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #a little spicy #quiet time #reading #jin itadori mentioned #sukuna learns that being quiet and cozy ain't so bad

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star-spacer · 1 month ago

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And Tonight, We’ll Be Warm

It is technically still the 25th where I am so have a holiday-related fic! This is just an excuse to write that obligatory Christmas fic that nobody asked for

Whitebeard Pirates x Reader (no particular pairing but very Ace-centric)

The Whitebeard Pirates never needed an excuse to party, but surprisingly, they always celebrated one specific holiday.

The sight of white flecks on the deck heralded the arrival of the Moby Dick to its destination, the cheery winter island in front of you a familiar sight. You couldn’t see it at this distance, but you had no doubt that if you asked Marco, he’d say that it was decked out in its annual holiday decoration already.

Around you, the hustle and bustle of docking preparations were in full swing, excitement filling the chilly air more than usual. Every year, on the same day and if time was willing, Pops liked to return to this specific island, deep in the heart of his territory, known for its celebration this time of year. It was done often enough that the locals left a special place for the Whitebeards and the crew always brought in supplies when they came. What would commence would be a two-day, island-wide celebration where the Whitebeards and even other friendly crews would toss aside their worries to rejoice. Though Pops’s family may have been a wide assortment of characters from all over the Blues, it was a unanimous agreement that all of you would indulge in this holiday because of how much joy it brought the old man. Though as pirates, there was never a reason needed to party.

You’d been with the crew long enough to have attended a few, the first few times never something you’d never forget. Overwhelming in the best of days, there would be lots of work done once you docked to unload the supplies and crates, but then the locals would whisk it all away and the crew would be able to release themselves upon the festivities. There would be stalls upon stalls of vendors selling indulgent foods, gifts, and knickknacks for the holidays. And—of course—the booze. It was a pirate island, after all.

A relieved cheer broke out as the Moby coasted gently to a stop, a few of those who could handle the jump vaulting over the side onto the dock, while those who remained up top tossed down the mooring line for them. You double-checked the ropes on the winches responsible for lowering the cargo and leaned over to ensure that nobody was in the way.

“Lowering the crates!” You yelled down to the people milling down below. The worn wooden crank was familiar in your work-calloused hands as you cranked it, lowering the creaking platforms of foods and ingredients down. A ‘thump’ and the lines slackening signaled the contact with the dock below you, and you left the unpacking to the ground crew.

Beelining for the rope ladder, you scaled down it to join the others, an eager grin pulling at your cheeks. Wagons waited for their loads, but you left that to those like Fossa and Blenheim, the likes of them able to move much more efficiently when they had no smaller crewmates running underfoot. Your eyes darted across the space, seeking one specific person. For once, a majority of the crew had a shirt and jacket on, only the hardiest of them forgoing it, so it was easy for you to find that tattoo stretched across a tanned back.

“Ace!”

The young man spun around, seeking the call of his name. You started toward him, waving to attract his attention. He returned your grin easily as the two of you met up. Close to him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Despite your layers, it was still bitingly cold with the snow fluttering down. But with Ace nearby, his heater tendencies, courtesy of his Fruit, were a warm balm against the low temperatures.

“You were right, this does look fun!” Ace said, hands on his hips as he regarded the festivities beyond the dock. I’m glad I’ll have someone to lead me around.”

“Hm.” You rubbed your hands, fingertips red. “I’ll show you all the good places to hit up. Ignore what Commander Marco says. He’s a geezer who’s got outdated tastes.”

“Does he now, yoi?”

You stiffened, spine prickling with unease as footsteps came close. The warmth of the other flame-related Devil Fruit user on your back betrayed his approach. You shot Ace a nervous smile, grabbing his shoulders and swinging behind him to escape the fingers that skimmed the collar of your jacket. Grabbing the black-haired man’s hand, you readied to bolt but flailed when he didn’t move.

“C’mon! We gotta run!”

Ace glanced back at you, shrugging helplessly, still gripping your hand.

“You should know better,” Marco tsked as he stopped in front of Ace (and you, who ensured you were soundly on the opposite side of Ace from him). He crossed his arms, a lazy smile twitching into something mischievous. “We have to wait for Pops, yoi.”

As if that mention summoned him, the ground trembled with the impact of your captain landing down from his leap off the ship. He did a sweeping glance over his nakama, still milling about the dock as they waited for his arrival, and unleashed his booming laughter. “What are you all waiting for? Go have fun, my children!”

Noise erupted over the dock, and you suddenly found Ace very agreeable as you ran away from Marco. The two of you darted into the crowd, away from the blonde.

“Go! Go! GO!” You yelled as Ace swept you onto his back, laughing as he bolted. You wrapped an arm around his neck to keep balance, while the other one pointed in front of him to where you wanted him to go. Rakuyo jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being plowed over, and Atmos bellowed in laughter when Ace ducked under his arm, revealing you clinging to his back.

Despite you acting as a backpack for him, Ace was barely winded when you finally told him to stop. He regarded the street around you with wide eyes as you slid off him, dusting your clothes. “Where to know?”

You pointed to a little stall that had a small metal stove by its side. “First order of business: Drinks!”

The little old lady there waved as you approached, a smile of familiarity greeting you. “Welcome back, dearie. I see you’ve brought a friend!”

Nodding, you stepped aside to showcase the now-shy ravenette to her. “Hi again Miss Rose. This is Ace! He joined us a little while ago.”

“Showing him around, I see…” Miss Rose said

“Yep,” you said. “I gotta do it since I don’t want to put him through the history lesson that Commander Marco might’ve exposed him to. And I thought it’d be good to start everything off with drinks from your stall!”

Miss Rose tilted her head, an apologetic expression falling onto her face. “I’m sorry, dearie, but my stove just went out, you see. I sent my son off to fetch flint, but it’s going to be a while before I can get anything warm for you.”

“I can help!” Ace said, straightening up as he lifted a hand, small flames flickering to life. He, however, quickly extinguished it, and added on nervously, “I-If you want.”

The woman didn’t flinch at the small display of Ace’s powers, long-familiar with Devil Fruit displays on an island such as this, and toddled over to the stove, pulling open the door, and stepped aside for Ace. “Oh, if you could, that would be delightful.”

Caught off guard by the open friendliness, Ace glanced at you in a silent question. You bumped him forward with your shoulder. “Yeah. Miss Rose has the best cider all around, and you can’t start the festivities without getting a cup.”

Ace exhaled with a smile, sticking his hand into the open maw of the stove. With a flash of orange, the lumber within it lit up. The door was closed, and Miss Rose quickly put a pot over the top. Within moments, the warm smell of spices suffused the air and the pot’s content bubbled merrily away. Miss Rose moved with a speed that belied her age as she quickly set up two steaming cups of liquid. You barely just finished fishing out the appropriate payment before they were shoved into your grasp. Passing one to Ace, you slid the coins over to her quicker than she could react. Grabbing Ace, you led him away despite the woman’s protests refusing your payment and called back, “Thanks, Miss Rose!”

Your action prompted a curious look from him as the two of you hurried from her stand. “What was that about?”

“She’s too kind for her own good, and if I didn’t do that, she would’ve tossed my coin back at my face,” you explained. Taking a long sip, you let out a satisfied sigh at the warmth spreading through your guts and prompted Ace, “Try it.”

He took a tentative sip. Your catlike grin widened as his eyes lit up, and he went in for seconds. “Woah, this is good…”

“Mhm,” you hummed, turning to look at the busy street in front of you. You pulled the cup closer to your face to allow the steam to warm up your cold nose. “It’s good that we got here before the crew. Otherwise, we’d be fighting Kingdew for a spot in line.”

Ace didn’t reply, and you glanced over to see him staring at the colorfully lit lanterns above you that cast festive colors onto the street. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was nice seeing the awe on his face, and you realized this must’ve been why Marco was chuckling at you when it was your first time on the island.

The growl emitting from him broke you out of your reverie, and you chuckled, hefting a bag of Berry in your hands.

“Alright Ace, since it’s your first time here, you can get any food you want, my treat. But��” You held up a finger when he brightened, “Only as much as this pouch can pay, and don’t spoil your appetite for later.”

“What’s for later?” Ace asked as he began walking to the nearest food stall, something to do with skewers.

“Five, please,” you said pleasantly to the vendor. Glancing back at Ace, you said. “There’s always a big feast and bonfire set up. It’s great. You’ll love it.”

The food was given to you, and you exchanged it with the correct amount of bills, passing four of the roasted chestnut and meat sticks to Ace while you kept one to yourself. Silence stretched between you two for a few minutes as the food was savored. As you were crunching through a chunk of chestnut, you heard Ace murmur, “Lu’ would’ve liked this.”

You swallowed your bite. Aside from his explosive (literally) introduction to the crew, there were a few other things about him that he never kept quiet about, one of them being his very cherished brother. “Oh yeah? I mean, this island is known for good chestnuts year-round, so food like this is common anytime. You can bring him here when you meet him again.”

Ace polished off his second skewer, expression wistful as he murmured, “Yeah…”

“Oi, you two!”

Like twin dogs, the two of you turned to the call. Thatch waved at you, Izou by his side. The former looked a little silly, with a sprinkling of snow piling up atop his pompadour, while the latter looked immaculate in his dark-blue kimono, its woven threats gleaming when it caught the lights. Amusement lit up the two Commanders’ faces when they saw the food in Ace’s hold.

“Putting another person’s wallet to work already, I see,” Izou said with a small smirk on his painted lips.

“Well, better than the alternative,” Thatch quipped, hands on his hips. “The locals may like us, but that can change if someone decides to dine and dash.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you pipped up. “I’m treating Ace today since it’s his first time.”

“How thoughtful,” Izou said. “You would have had the same result tossing your wallet in the sea.”

“I know better! I only brought a set amount.”

“Hey!” Ace protested. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

You, Thatch, and Izou exchanged glances. A beat of silence passed.

Thatch was the first to crack, folding in half as mirth shook his body, and you had to make efforts not to spill your drink in your laughter. Even Izou cracked, one fist coming up to cover his mouth as he snorted. Ace leveled a betrayed look at you all.

“By the way,” Thatch began, once he finally reigned his laughter back in control. “Where are the two of ya headed?”

Shrugging, you motioned down the street you two were on. “Just roaming for the most part, but the goal is to the town center to show Ace the stage before going to the bonfire.

“Hm. Mind if we join y’all?”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. Ace?”

Silence greeted you, and you whirled around to find him face down in the snow, breathing deeply. Somehow, he still held his drink and food aloft. Sighing, you sent the other men a helpless look.

“We can wait until he wakes up to see what he wants,” Izou amended. “Let’s move him to the bench over there.”

Thatch smiled, lifting a hand. “If ya can grab the food and cup, I’ll carry our resident flamethrower out of the street.”

Chugging the rest of your cider, you crouched down and carefully wormed the sticks and cup out of Ace’s hands. There was no food left, so you tossed those, but Ace’s cup was still three-quarters full and steaming, so you decided to keep that for yourself. At your go-ahead, Thatch effortlessly lifted Ace’s snoozing form, while Izou cut ahead to dust off the coating of snow from the seat. Thatch set Ace down first before sitting down, and you immediately claimed the other empty spot of the sleeping Logia-user, sighing in happiness at the warmth that bled off him.

“I’m surprised that you’re not with Commander Marco, sirs,” you admitted, moving to sip from the cider cup.

You squawked as Thatch took it from you, using his long reach to lean over Ace. He took a sip from it and hummed. “Ah, that’s good. From Miss Rose?”

Sulkily side-eyeing him, you nodded.

“And stop with the ‘Commander’ stuff. We’re off-duty, and we’re all friends anyway.”

“Well, as my friend, you should give me back my drink.”

“Is it really yours in the first place, if you took it from Ace?” Izou asked. He waved the cup away when Thatch offered it to him.

As the brown-haired man was leaning back, Ace suddenly shot forward, knocking into him. The cup flew out of Thatch’s grasp, spilling its contents onto the snow in front of you all. Izou hissed, jerked the hem of his kimono away, and shot the others a poisonous look.

“Haahhhhh? Since when did we sit down?”

“Since you decided the snow would be a good cushion for your face,” Izou replied.

“Ah dang, was I out for long?”

“No,” you said. “Thatch and Izou were wondering if they could tag along with us.”

Ace stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “I don’t see why not! As long as your offer still holds up.”

Sighing in exasperation, you stood up with a shake of your head and a smile on your face. “Fine. But if you want to explore, we gotta get going.”

Your words were a reminder of the changing sky, the days shorter in the thick of winter. The others all agreed, and once everyone gathered themselves, you all set off again. Your motley crew would’ve struck an unusual sight, with Thatch’s stature and hair, Izou’s elegant dress, and Ace completely bare-chested in the snow, but the locals of this island were long-used to it, a few folks even greeting the Commanders by name.

The festival was still as eye-catching as ever, with the soft haze of snowfall spreading a dreamy air over everything. True to his nature, Ace ended up dragging you to a few more food stalls. You four wandered with no hurry, simply basking in the peaceful, jovial air that was seldomly seen on the seas.

“I wonder how long these chestnuts can keep,” Thatch mused as he rotated a candied chestnut in his fingers. Popping it into his mouth, he passed you one from his cup. “I have plenty of recipes that’ll be nice for the colder weeks when we’re sailing.”

“I think if you can store them in the ice closet, they can last up to six months!” you chirped.

You could see his mind beginning to form ideas. “That’s plenty of time. I doubt they’ll last that long. Since it’s so cheap here, I think I’ll arrange for an order to the Moby tomorrow.”

A folded hand fan whapped Thatch on the side of the head, Izou tucking it back from wherever he summoned it from when the brown-haired man turned to him.

“What gives, you bastard?!?”

“Stop talking about work,” Izou sniffed. “We’re here to relax and enjoy the festivities, damn you.”

Thatch leaned down into Izou’s space. “Well, you didn’t need to hit me!”

While the two senior members squabbled like little kids, you turned your attention to Ace, seeing him contemplating the roasted squid in his hands like it contained the secrets of the world.

“What’s wrong?” You said, popping your head over his shoulder. “It raw?”

Ace blinked, shaking his head and taking a big bite out of it. “Nah. Just thinkin’.”

“Don’t hurt your head over it,” you said. “Now’s a time to turn it off.”

He hummed, and you linked your arm with his and marched forward.

“Well, we’re almost at the town center. You’d like it, I think. And if you don’t, it’ll be something to distract you, yeah? No worries.”

Izou and Thatch fell in line when they saw the two of you heading off. One was fixing the collar of his kimono, while the other had a red mark on his forehead. Neither said anything when you raised a teasing eyebrow in question.

You led them down the streets until it opened up into a wide space, the large, towering pine tree in the middle marking your arrival to the town center.

Ace froze as he gawked at the monster of a tree in front of you all. “Holy shit.”

Tall enough to make even Pops look small standing next to its trunk, the ancient growth was decked out in flickering candles and carved, wooden ornaments of all colors. Bands of embroidered cloth swayed gently, depicting the winter flowers that bloomed this time of year.

“This is one of the island’s pride and joy,” You told Ace, banking on the information Marco told you during your first time. Damn, if he knew, he would never let you live this down. “It was said that this tree was already massive by the time people settled onto this island, and it was decided that they would keep it and treasure it. The festivals came later, but this tree was integrated into every celebration as well. Looks like we came just in time.”

Chattering quieted as a door hidden in the tree trunk opened. A pair of men walked forward to the platform mounted there, rolling some sort of canon in between them.

“It’s safe,” you reassured Ace as you saw him shift in nervousness. “Just watch!”

With a muffled pop, a flurry of flat, petaled shapes shot up into the air. The crowd roiled, eager hands reaching up as the large charms fluttered down. This was what you came here for. This town’s yearly charms, hand-carved from a specific type of lightweight crystal only found here. When refined down into the flowers and the snowflakes fluttering down upon you now, they caught the light in a kaleidoscope of rainbows. They were beautiful.

And very desired.

“Quickly,” you hissed, pushing Ace forward. “Try and grab one! They say that whoever got one will have good luck for the upcoming year.”

Unsure, the man reached out, only to have it snatched in front of his fingertips. The old lady who took it from him gave him a sharp glare and toddled off.

A spark of competitiveness lit up in Ace’s eyes. “Oh, that does it.”

The two of you shared a look of determination, exchanging a nod before delving into the crowd.

“Over here, Ace!”

“Too far!”

“Watch out for that lady!”

Your teamwork fell in line seamlessly, the months together on the seas and all the training and fighting giving you and Ace a leg up. Though it always seemed like there were five people trying for every one charm. Eventually, there was nothing left in reach, but you spotted one still fluttering above the crowd. You were not the only one, as you locked eyes with a burly man who was bullying his way through the crowd toward it. The two of you scowled at each other, and you stuck out your tongue at him.

Looking back at it again, you saw that it was out of reach for even the tallest folks.

But not too tall for what you had in mind.

Spinning around, you pointed at the crystal and yelled out, “Ace!”

The man turned around to spot it, and you quickly took a knee, putting your cupped hands low to the ground. A move that you’d done once or twice before.

“Go for it!” You yelled, hiding a wince when an elbow dug into your back.

Ace stepped back, lining himself up before running towards you. His boot landed in your palms, and you pushed yourself upward, propelling him up with you as he jumped. You turned around to see his trajectory, a wild grin on your face. Ace had a similar expression, one hand on his hat while the other was outstretched as he approached the snowflake. With bated breath, you watched as his fingers grazed the edges of the charm, seemingly missing it before, with a burst of flames from his legs, he propelled himself up a bit and the charm landed in his grasp. With the prize secured, he brought it to his chest and pivoted in the air, landing at an empty spot with a perfectly tucked roll.

You let out a whoop, throwing your arms up in victory, before moving your way through the crowd to where Ace landed. Your cheeks ached not just from the cold, but also from the size of the grin overtaking you sported. Spotting Ace, you hauled him up and pulled him into a hug, your laughter ringing out in the air.

“You got it!”

His cheeks were flushed as well when you pulled back, a pearly smile on his face. “Yeah.”

The crowd’s excitement was dying down and a part of you dropped in dismay over the fact that you’d missed your chance to grab something, too busy making sure Ace had his moment to focus on your own. But you were at least glad that Ace managed to get one of the charms of his own, so you shoved down that bit of sadness.

“What shape did you get?” You asked. “Can I see?”

He pulled the hand holding his charm away from his chest, and your eyes widened in excitement at the sight of a flat carving of a flame lily. As he lifted it into the air, the clear crystal caught the light, throwing out fiery red and orange iridescence from within its lattice.

“A flame lily, lucky you!” You shot him a thumbs-up. “That’s the most prized one. A symbol of undying warmth in the cold. Good luck is definitely coming your way.”

“There you two are,” Thatch said, panting a bit as he got through the crowd. “You crazy little cretins, I can’t believe you two did that! And don’t deny it, I saw Ace in the air.”

You whistled, adverting your eyes. “Welllll, it was worth it. Ace got this year’s Flame Lily. How ‘bout you?”

“Right here,” Thatch sighed, reaching into the top of his pompadour and pulling out a glittering, clear hexagonal plate that had flashes of smoky black when he tilted it. “Some lady tried stealing it from my hands after I got it.”

“Looks like all that hair really is useful for something,” you chuckled.

He harrumphed, tucking it in the inner breast pocket of his coat. “Whatever. Did you get one this year?”

You shook your head, a rueful smile on your face. “Nah. Looks like my collection is not growing this year.”

You only caught a flash of guilt on Ace’s face before something was thrust into your face.

“Here,” Izou drawled, a bored look on his face.

Going cross-eyed, you took a step back to see what it was. Your eyes widened when you saw the intricate poinsettia carving in his hand, the details of the flower it was mimicking catching the light prettily.

“I found this stuck to mine,” he said, motioning to the bird-shaped crystal peeking out of the collar of his kimono before you could ask. He shook it. “Take it. I don’t need two of them.”

“Aww, you do care,” you teased as you reached for it.

Izou jerked it out of your grip, raising it out of your reach. “I am not above breaking it over your head.”

“No don’t! I’ll be good, I promise!”

He finally gave it to you, huffing out of his nose as he swept past the tree of you. “Fine. Let’s go. We need to head to the beach if we want to catch the bonfire in time.”

At this point, the sky was blue-hued with the end of sunset, the chill settling deeper into your bones. But still, the lights and candles kept the island festivities in full swing.

“So, what do we do with these things?” Ace asked, inspecting his lily carving.

“You just keep it.” You shrugged. “Put ‘em in a box or something. It’s your choice. Hell, you can even toss them into the ocean, but make sure to point out where you did it so I can go diving for it.”

Ace hummed in thought, glancing over to see your expectant gaze on him. With a smile and shrug, he shoved it into his pant pocket. “I guess I’ll keep it. So what are we doing now?”

“Bonfire should start soon,” you affirmed. “There’ll be food and drinks, the full Whitebeard Pirates shebang, yaknow?”

The growling of a stomach was the response you received from him, and you chuckled.

“We’re almost there,” Thatch reassured.

True enough, you four took the stone steps down from the edge of the town, where your shoes immediately sunk into sand. Already, you could hear the hubbub of conversation, men on their way to getting sloshed. There was a chorus of greetings that rose when those present saw you four.

“Finally,” Atmos roared, his beer sloshing over his tankard. “Was thinkin’ you guys died fighting in the town center.”

Izou scoffed, sweeping past him as he headed for where Vista and Haruta were. “Please. As if I’d be taken out by something so simple.”

“I’m going to check out to see if the Fourth Division needs any help,” Thatch called, splitting away too.

That left you and Ace again, and you steered him toward a table set up with food. You unleashed him upon the meal, picking up a few things that pulled at your interests too, and allowing yourself to mingle with everyone.

Like most other Whitebeard parties, it was easy to be swept up in the merriment. At one point, you managed to wrangle a spot beside Haruta as he lit up the main bonfire, toasts being called out into the air. Smaller bonfires went up around the beach too, like twinkling, golden stars in the dark.

And when the moon was high in the sky, just about the time when you knew the spectacle of the night would begin, you sought out Ace again.

He was warm as you slung an arm over his shoulder, warmer than even the slight bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. “Aceyyyyyyyyy. Come on closer to the bonfire.”

“Hm? Why’s that.”

You pointed to the towering back of Blenheim in front of you. “Too many tall ones over ‘ere. And you’re warm, but I wanna be warmer.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a heat hog,” he said, rising from his seat at your insistent tugging.

Fossa smirked at him when he saw the two of you pass by. “Looks like you’re the victim this time, brat. Good.”

You stuck your tongue out at the older man, aiming towards a log laid on as a seat, angled to look into the island instead of out over the sea. Plopping into it with none of the grace you normally held when somber, you sighed at the heat that suffused your back from the bonfire.

At Ace’s questioning look at you, you raised your arm and pointed over the top of the island, where the top of the pine tree could be seen peeking out. “You’ll wanna watch o’er there. It’s good. I promise.”

Following your words were the lights from the town being extinguished, plunging the inland into darkness. Soon, the only lights came from the bonfires dotting the beaches like fireflies as everyone settled. An air of excitement took over the party, those sober and not tilting their heads up to the sky.

A whistle announced the first of the launches before the sky exploded with color. Fireworks bloomed in their brilliant glory, popping and crackling hues of sparkling rainbows before fading out. It was stunning as ever, but since you’d seen it a few times before, you chanced a glance at the man next to you.

Ace’s eyes were wide, the glow of the firelight making them glitter. You smiled softly at the way it transformed his features into something softer.

Even though you haven’t known him for long, the look on his face earlier was too somber for your liking. The two of you may not be close-knit, but you were at least friendly with him on the account of you two being newer to the crews. So to see that troubled look that bellied something deeper made you worried. You may not be close enough to pry, but at the least, you hoped that this was enough to lift his spirits lightly.

You tore your gaze from the black-haired male just in time to see the second round of fireworks going up. More impressive than the last, this time the fireworks were set up into shapes. All around you, cheers rose from the crew as the doggy face of Stephan bloomed into view, followed by an impressive arrangement forming the Moby Dick.

As this round began to die down, Marco appeared at your side, handing you a steaming drink. “Here, yoi. Keep warm.”

Reaching for it, you asked, “Is it warmed rum?”

“No. I’m not letting you have that again, yoi.” He turned to Ace and jabbed a thumb at you. “No matter how much this one asks, no more of Raykuyo’s rum, alright? I promise you don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

You sulkily sipped from the cup, finding that it was hot chocolate. Sweet, yet not too heavy to upset your stomach. “Whatever, I drink it ‘cause it chases the chill away.”

“You have Ace with you, yoi.”

“I’m still cold!” you barked. Your eyes gained a calculating gleam as you shuffled closer to Ace, your free hand whipping out to latch onto Marco’s wrist. “But if you’re insisting, why don’t you come have a seat, Marco? I’m sure you’re awfully tired, and it’s an awfully good view to see the fireworks.

His half-lidded eyes were knowing as he moved to sit beside you, bracketing you on all three sides with heat. You sighed in happiness, and relaxed, returning your focus to the sky.

With the bonfire at your back, Ace and Marco by your side, and the crew all around you, your heart was warm.

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