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xxsquiddkiddxx · 19 days ago

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LIFE CHANGING ONE-SHOT OVER HERE OMFG!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Worthy of You : ̗̀➛ Rhett Abbott x Reader

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Famous!Reader

Summary: Rhett Abbott has been in love with you since he knew what love was, and that love was reciprocated. You managed to make a name for yourself, though, and Rhett can't help but feel like he's not worthy of who you've become.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, SMUT (unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink), porn with a LOT of plot, angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, reader is famous, female reader but no description of specific features like hair or skin, talks of anxiety and some self-deprecation, Rhett may be slightly ooc (he's a loverboy I promise you he is), we will be ignoring cannon events/supernatural stuff for this

Word Count: 18,693 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

The Amelia County Rodeo Grounds weren’t foreign to you; they were a place you knew well, like the back of your hand.

It had stormed the night before, leaving broken branches snapped from trees along the sides of every road that led to the Rodeo Grounds. Trina, your manager, had mumbled multiple comments about how ‘they really needed to come clean up around here’ as your driver swerved around every pile of debris. They were both more than happy to leave you there at the rodeo and return to their swanky hotel in the next town over after you assured them you’d have a ride and be well protected at the grounds without their watchful eyes.

The dirt had turned to pits of mud, caking against the bottom of the old pair of cowboy boots you’d managed to slip on during the car ride over. The mud kicked up enough with every step to dirty the edges of your flared jeans, but they were yet another old pair that barely got worn anymore. The crowds were larger than you were used to, people packed along every stretch of dirt and near every vendor's booth. It was the Amelia County Championship, after all.

“Cecilia!”

The Abbot family turned the second they heard your voice. You had been a constant staple around the Abbott ranch since you were eight years old; they knew you like you were one of their own. You bounded up the bleachers, throwing out soft ‘excuse me’s’ to everyone you had to duck and weave around. You heard every single whisper that left them as you passed by.

“Is that-?”

“Holy shit, she’s back in town?”

“Oh my god, it’s really her!”

Cecilia Abbott was the first to tug you into her arms, holding you tightly to her as her hands rubbed up and down your faded t-shirt-covered back in that motherly way she had since the day you had met her. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around her, any bit of tension that was in your bones seeping out of you the second you inhaled that familiar floral scent of the perfume Rebecca had bought her so long ago.

“Oh, we’ve missed you, our little movie star!” Cecilia pulled back, cupping your cheeks with a bright smile. It was natural to melt into her touch, one that had always welcomed you from such a young age. “Well, little probably ain’t the best word for that.”

Perry Abbott popped up behind his mother, gently tugging her out of the way to pull you into a tight hug of his own.

“Damn, didn’t think we’d be seein’ ya tonight. Last I heard from Rhett, weren’t you over in London?”

“Yeah, we finished up press yesterday, so I hopped on the first flight home. Jet lag is a bit of a bitch,” you explained, pulling away with a bright smile. “I didn’t miss too much, did I? I was hoping to make it here before the final round.”

“You missed his first ride,” Royal chimed in from down the bench, giving you a short nod before gesturing toward the scoreboard. “Rhett’s sitting right about in the middle of the pack. It’s gonna take one hell of a ride for him to get the championship now.”

Your eyes followed Royal Abbott’s to the electronic scoreboard, showing Rhett’s name right around 5th place in the Amelia County Championship standings.

“So, it’s safe to assume Rhett doesn’t know you’re here?” Cecilia chimed in with a knowing smile as Amy tried to shove past her father and grandmother to get to you. You gave the older woman a knowing smile of your own as you glanced away from the scoreboard, trying to conceal your nerves.

“No, and I’d like to keep that as much of a surprise as I can-”

You were barely able to get the words out before Amy was past her family, throwing herself up into your arms with an excited shout. With a laugh, you caught her, lifting her into the air with a squeeze as she pulled back to look at you with a wide, toothy grin stretched across her face.

“Auntie! I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Amy girl,” her giggle was the sweetest, and god, had you missed hearing it while you’d been off on your much-too-long press tour.

Cheers erupted from around the stands. The arena was suddenly flooded with teams of bullfighters, and the announcer was launching into his typical spiel he always gave before the rides would commence.

Amy was quick to pull you down onto the bench beside her, tucking her smaller hand into yours. You took a glance around the stands. Many of the older couples sitting around you knew from when you were younger, as they shot you kind glances and grins. There were many you didn’t recognize, but from the giddy smiles on their faces, it was clear they recognized you. There was a whole group, maybe three or four girls somewhere around middle school age, staring at you from down the bleachers with stars practically in their eyes. They gave you excited waves that you easily reciprocated, unable to hold in your laugh as they practically jumped up and down at the simple acknowledgment from you.

A hat landed on your head, obscuring your vision for a moment, as you glanced back over toward Cecilia and Perry, the Abbott woman now missing her hat.

“If ya want to keep yourself a surprise, ya might want to stay hidden,”

There were no arguments from you as you tugged the hat so it obscured your face as best as possible before the first rider took his place on his bull across the arena. Only seven riders to watch before it would be Rhett’s turn, his last chance to secure the championship he’d been dreaming of for so long.

It felt like just yesterday when you saw Rhett Abbott ride a bull in a competition for the first time. You were twelve, a fresh seventh grader, standing right here at the Amelia County fairgrounds as he participated in his first junior bull riding competition. Back then, he was wearing the cutest helmet that barely sat properly on his head and was tightened as much as it possibly could’ve been. He’d managed to stay on for only seven seconds before his bull had finally bucked him off and sent him crashing into the ground. Naturally, Rhett was upset with himself that he hadn’t managed to stay on for eight seconds and thus didn’t receive the score he wanted, but you were still cheering louder than the entire county for him from the sidelines.

When the first seven riders came and went, you glanced at the scoreboard: not terrible scores, but manageable. Rhett could pull this off with one hell of a ride.

You could just barely see Rhett mounting his bull from the other side of the arena; it felt like that first time all over again, like you were twelve watching your best friend ride again. Cheering him on from the stands as he passionately threw himself into the one hobby he’d loved ever since he was a kid, his one escape from the disaster of a home life you knew all too well.

It had been a month since you had last seen him. Press for “For Those We Love,” the newest book-to-film adaptation that was projected to be one of the largest box office successes of the last few years, given the large fanbase it had accumulated through the years, had taken you across the world. First, on a trip to Los Angeles and New York, then to Japan, and ending with a two-week press tour in London that included an appearance on The Graham Norton Show. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but there wasn’t anything in the world that would have been able to keep you from tonight’s competition.

FaceTimes never did Rhett Abbott justice, especially on that old-ass iPhone you couldn’t convince him to upgrade. Even from across the arena, you could tell that he was freshly shaven in the last week or so, keeping that stubble you adored not too long. The worn-in, brown leather hat you had gifted him for his fourteenth birthday was still tattered and beat up, but he still refused to ride without it. He refused to wear anything BUT that hat, calling it his good luck charm since it came from you.

The familiar sound of the buzzer echoed through the arena, the gate separating Rhett and his bull slid open, and you tightened your hand around Amy’s tiny one in an effort to calm your nerves.

Those eight seconds of Rhett on a bull were always the longest seconds of your entire life. You always cheered while he rode, but it simultaneously felt as if you were always holding your breath. His hand up in the air, the clouds of dirt that were kicked up from the frantic bucking of the bull, and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that was just begging him to be okay in the end, no matter what. Amy might have been young, but she knew how you were at the rodeo. That’s why her hand never left yours, even as she stood on top of her seat to jump up and down and cheer for her uncle.

The Abbott family was cheering alongside the rest of Amelia County. You recognized so many people from Wabang standing around, neighbors and school teachers alike, all cheering him on. And that weight in your stomach didn’t leave until he was finally bucked off to the ground and hauled to his feet in one piece.

Every eye in the arena shot to the scoreboard, waiting with bated breath.

The score appeared first: the judges gave him a 80. Then, Rhett’s name shot to the top of the leaderboard, solidifying him in first place.

The entire fairgrounds erupted into cheers. You were pretty sure the men behind you spilled some of their beer down your back as they jumped up, cheering Rhett’s name as loudly as they could, but you didn’t care. Amy was back up in your arms, both of you screaming as you spun the girl around in circles in pure excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your hometown boy: Rhett Abbott, Amelia County Rodeo Champion!”

The proud smile never left your face as you watched Rhett get paraded around on shoulders before being presented with the championship belt buckle and what you could only assume was the champion’s check as well. The crowd erupted into another chant of cheers as Royal and Cecilia made their way down the bleachers toward the fencing to wait for him.

Perry took Amy from your arms with a quick kiss to her temple, everyone else around the bleachers moving past you toward the fence as well to greet their hometown champion. He threw you a glance, nodding toward the rest of the Abbott family.

“Coming down?”

You stole a glance over your shoulder, that same group of three young girls waiting patiently at the end of the row, and you couldn’t help but laugh. With almost a flick of the wrist, you plopped Cecilia’s hat on Amy’s head, taking a few steps backward.

“In a minute. Distract him for me so I can go make these girls’ days,”

Somewhere behind you, Perry made a noise of agreement, but you had already turned around to the girls. By the time you’d made it a few feet down the row to kneel in front of them, all three of them were practically squealing in anticipation.

“I’m so sorry we’re bothering you,” the little redhead spoke so quickly she hadn’t taken a single breath. “We saw somewhere online that you might be here tonight b-because your boyfriend was riding, so we convinced my mom to bring us out here, and we didn’t want to b-bother you since it, you know, is your boyfriend-”

“You girls weren’t a bother at all,” soft giggles fell from your lips at their nervousness, and they quickly followed suit with giggles of their own. You took all three of their phone cases without even having to be asked, signing them with the Sharpie they handed you as well. Little kids were the best part of your job, seeing them so giddy and happy to meet you in moments like this.

“What’s it like dating a cowboy?” the youngest of the three asked as you brought them all into your side, their mother gearing up to take a photo of you all together. You hummed, pretending to have to think hard about it.

“Well, I’m not sure if you think boys are gross or not yet, but the muscles are quite nice to look at,”

“What’s it like being in a movie with Drew Livingston? He’s so dreamy,”

You laughed at their description of your co-star, smiling for the photo before looking between the girls again.

“He’s a sweetheart, but there’s another guy I’m interested in seeing right now who doesn’t even know I’m here, so it’s time to surprise him,” all three giggled again at your comment, glancing over your shoulder in the direction you knew Rhett would be standing against the fenceline, talking to his family and all of the supporters from the crowd. “Do me a favor, girls? Make sure you get some pictures of his reaction and DM them to me later, I promise I’ll see them.”

The looks from around the crowd were expected as you walked back in the direction of the Abbott family, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach the second you saw that faded leather cowboy hat on the other side of the fence. You’d accepted your status in Amelia County now: no longer just another local, but a spectacle, someone to whisper about and take photos of that others around the world would be jealous of.

None of that mattered to you. Rhett was all that mattered, the sun that was almost down behind the horizon glinting off the fence before him and off that championship buckle that was already fastened to his belt.

“Good ride, son,” Royal commented, reaching through the fence to slap his hand down on Rhett’s shoulder. He only gave his father a short, clipped smile, their relationship still as rocky as it had always been.

“Thanks, guys,” that gruff voice you adored with all of your heart huffed out to them as you hid behind some people just next to the Abbott family. He tugged at the leather gloves on his hands with his teeth, slapping them on the fence before tossing them into the dirt. “And thanks for comin’ out.”

“Hell of a ride, Rhett!” someone else from Wabang yelled out from somewhere crowded around the fence, inciting another round of cheers from the group bunched up to welcome their champion.

Rhett’s laugh was short, his eyes flicking across the crowd. Perry laughed, leaning against the fence rail with a smirk as he pointed at his younger brother.

“He don’t care about the rest of us being here. Look at that face: he’s looking for his lady!”

There was another cheer through the crowd, and you couldn’t help your smile as you saw just a hint of red creep into Rhett’s cheeks, that tiny, clipped smile he held growing just ever so slightly.

“I miss her, got a problem with that?” Rhett shot back at Perry as he reached around his back to loosen his vest slightly. “Just…wishing she was here, that’s all.”

That was the moment you decided to duck out from behind some of the others in the crowd around you. Perry sidestepped the second he saw you out of the corner of his eye, letting you take his place. With one foot on the rail, you jumped up on the fence so that you were looking down on Rhett on the other side, who still wasn’t looking at you, even as whistles and cheers reverberated through the crowd.

“Well, your wish is my command, cowboy,”

Rhett’s head finally whipped up to look at you, and you swore you would never get over the way he looked at you–a warm glance, filled with admiration. Looking at you was like he was learning what love was for the first time.

You had traveled the world, seen every city you had ever dreamed of seeing, but every time you looked into those deep blue eyes, you knew you were home.

“You…you were supposed to be in London,” his voice was gruff, like it always was, that familiar Wyoming drawl laced through it. Astonished was the best word to describe how he sounded. It only made your smile wider.

“I got the press tour moved up. No way I was missing my cowboy become a champion,”

Your words sank in. His mouth dropped open for a moment before closing and repeating itself. The crowd around the fence laughed, some men whooping and hollering for Rhett. All you did was smile at him, never once taking your eyes off him. That’s why you could see it, the moment his eyes dilated just looking at you.

He lurched forward, stepping up on the opposite side of the rail. All you could do was laugh as his hands popped over the side, sliding across your hips until he held you in his grip, and lifted you over the rail onto the dirt of the rodeo ring.

Rhett steadied you the second you both hit the ground once again. His hand curled around, pressing into the dip of your lower back, anchoring your body against his. You watched, smile never leaving, as his hand flicked the edges of that leather Stetson up, bathing his face in the golden rays of the sunset.

The crowd around the fence cheered once more as Rhett didn’t speak a word and simply pulled you into a kiss that would never fail to steal the breath from your lungs.

Every kiss with Rhett felt like you were 16 again, kissing your best friend on the front porch of his family home in the dead of the night.

Royal had lost it on Rhett, like he typically did, but this time it stung more than it had before. He’d uttered that one word that Rhett couldn’t stand: disappointment. That’s what Royal had called his son. You had just had yet another argument with your family over your future. Your desperation to make it, to chase your wildest dreams, to make a name for yourself beyond this tiny little Wyoming town. They’d shot you down once again, swore if you did anything besides inherit the family ranch passed down through the generations, they’d never see you as their daughter again: disownment.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Rhett to find yourself on the front porch of the Abbott ranch home, especially in moments like these, for both of you. Cecilia had always welcomed you, and Rhett had often joked that she saw you as more of her kid than he was. It always broke your heart, always ended with his hand wrapped in yours.

That night wasn’t supposed to be any different. You had run to the ranch through the rain–clothes soaking you to the bone–and Rhett was already waiting. The moon was already hanging in the sky, passing between the rain clouds as they came and went. Dressed in his clothing, warm with the faint scent of him clinging to them, you had simply sat side by side on the swing bench on his front porch, watching the rain hit the ground, creating mud pits throughout the yard.

His arm sat wrapped around your shoulder, combing through pieces of your soaking wet hair, while your head lay on his shoulder. Lightning crackled across the sky, lighting up the land, as the roaring thunder followed. If someone asked either of you, neither of you could tell anyone what exactly was said or what led to the moment, but somewhere amid the storm and in your company, you had both turned to look at one another. All it took was one kiss to change everything, change the friendship you had held close and cherished since you were a little girl: soft, chaste, slightly hesitant, but perfect nonetheless.

Rhett didn’t kiss you hesitantly now. He had spent ten years kissing you in every conceivable way: chaste, long, soft, hard, passionate, loving, heated, messy. This kiss now, in the setting sun of the Amelia County Rodeo Grounds, amid the cheers of those who followed your every move and those who had known you both since you were two feet tall, it wasn’t like those kisses: it was longing.

It was a welcome home. Not to the state, or the county, or the town–to him.

You savored it and fell into his hold. So familiar, the heat of his hands and his lips, the roughness of his skin as it dipped under your shirt to splay across your lower back. A month without this, without his touch, but it had felt like forever. You missed it, missed him, more than you could ever explain.

When he finally pulled back, letting your breath finally find you, Rhett never went far. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, and the center of your forehead before he rested his own against yours, allowing himself to simply stare down at you. His smile was soft, the movement of his thumb across your lower back comforting, as the roar of your friends and neighbors continued.

“Missed you,” he muttered, just loud enough for the two of you to hear, that barely there smile making your heart melt. “You moved a whole press tour for me, darlin’?”

You glanced to the side, those young girls from before waving you down. They’d snuck into the ring, jumping up and down and pointing at their phones. All you gave them was a wink in thanks, before turning back to your favorite cowboy.

“I barely moved it, just added a few hours to our one interview day to make up for travel time,” you shrugged it off, pretending it was nothing. His laugh that came next was low as he gave you a short shake of his head.

“Think you just gave Trina ‘nother reason to hate me,”

You rolled your eyes. “She doesn’t hate you, she just…strongly dislikes you,”

“Darlin’, I hated English class, but I think that’s the definition of the word-”

“We get it, you two are in love. Quit hogging her!”

Low laughter was shared between you both as Rhett pulled back just barely. His hand never left you as he walked you back to the railing, waving to those who continued to send praise his way before they parted for their drive back into town.

The Abbott family was all that was left by the fence. Rhett, as he almost always did around you, stepped up behind you where you stood, the taut muscles of his forearms wrapping around your shoulders and your chest so he could lean his head against the side of yours, placing yet another kiss to your hair.

“That was a great ride, Uncle Rhett!” Amy piped up, sending a toothiest grin up toward you both. You could feel Rhett’s chest rumble with laughter behind you.

“Thanks, Ames,” his hand left your side for barely a moment, reaching through the slots in the rail to ruffle her hair.

“Was solid, score was a bit low,” Royal’s comment came offhandedly, his gaze staring off into the distance, not even looking at his son. “You were a little wobbly up there. Score almost wasn’t enough to win it.”

Over the years, you had witnessed this too often, this dynamic between Rhett and Royal. When Rhett didn’t ride well, on his off days, Royal would mask that stupid disappointment in a vain attempt at being comforting, but his real feelings were clear. They were even clearer when he rode well, when he won, when his father was unable to just straight up compliment him without throwing in an unwanted criticism: judging Rhett for the path he’d chosen, for his insistence to make a name for himself.

They were feelings you knew all too well. Your relationships with your parents were strained for different reasons, but the feelings it evoked were a shared experience between you both.

Rhett’s arms tensed around you, squeezing you just a little tighter to him. You placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it three little times: I love you.

It did the trick, as you could feel the slight quirk of his lips against your hairline, his own hands squeezing your shoulders four times: I love you, too.

“Well, I think there’s plenty to celebrate tonight,” Perry cut in, trying his best to cut through the tension. It sure as hell wasn’t working that well. “Why don’t I drop these guys off at home and meet you two for some celebratory drinks? Sure the whole town is flooding the bar as we speak.”

“That’s all up to the champion back here,” Rhett was already looking down on you when you turned your head just slightly to see him.

“Think drinks at the ranch are good ‘nough for me tonight,” his answer came easily, another kiss placed on your head firmly but softly at the same time. “I don’t feel like sharing my famous girl with the whole town tonight.”

“You never share her,” Amy grumbled, arms crossed as she shot her uncle a glare.

The family all laughed at that comment, Cecilia bidding her son a final congratulations for the night and promising to see you both back at the ranch. Before long, you and Rhett were left as some of the last people mingling around the grounds under the bright lights.

His calloused hand wrapped in yours like it was made to be there, fingers interlocking with your own and giving the slightest tug. Like always, you fell into step beside Rhett like it was nothing, like you had been doing it your entire life, which you had.

There were plenty of people you knew still lingering around, cleaning up stalls and closing up the concessions and booths. Rhett’s crew was still cleaning up, taking a glance at you across the dirt ring and sounding another loud ‘whoop’ through the air to you both.

“Think you have some adoring fans waitin’ for you, darlin’,”

Rhett was right. A few people lingered around the back of the ring, toward the gravel road that led to where the riders got to park their vehicles, as if they had studied where you might end up at the end of the competition in order to catch you. You sighed, giving Rhett an apologetic smile, but he only gave your hand a squeeze in return and pushed you off toward them.

Posters of past projects, one edition of Vanity Fair magazine with your face across the front, and Funko Pops of yourself that you hadn’t even seen yet. Each fan smiled and thanked you profusely for every signature. You thanked them in return for every ounce of support they showed you, but there was only one thing your heart wanted right now.

Rhett was leaning against the side of his truck, just 30 feet away, when you finally made it to him. A tired sigh escaped your throat as he chuckled at the sound, reaching forward to loop his fingers through the loops of your jeans, tugging you into him. You didn’t put up a fight, hands splaying across his chest as you looked up at him.

“I just got done ridin’ bulls, sweetheart, and you’re tired from signing some autographs?” he teased, that smug little smirk on his lips. You flicked at his hat, laughing lightly yourself as he softly smacked your hand away.

“No, I’m tired because I got on a plane at Heathrow, had to ride it into Denver, and then got on another one to get to Wyoming. Almost 11 hours in a plane to be here,”

“Sounds like a great time to get some sleep,”

The unimpressed look you shot at him drew another deep chuckle from him, his chest rumbling under your hands, and a flurry of butterflies he still knew how to give you shooting through you.

“While Trina drones on and on about the premiere and the countless more interviews that need to be done? Yeah, very soothing, I’ll make a machine and market it as ‘Trina Noise’ instead of white noise,”

Rhett buried his laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His fingers tugged on the loops of your jeans again, holding you as close as physically possible, and you leaned into him easily.

“So…how long do I get you for?”

“Two days,” you gave him a sheepish smile as he immediately groaned, throwing his head back so hard he almost lost his Stetson in the process. Dramatic, as always. You tugged him back to you with a hand on the back of his neck, that playful little smirk on his lips when you had him back to sitting up fully. “I’m sorry, Rhett. We have a day of press, including a Jimmy Fallon interview, and then the red carpet at Lincoln Square is the next day. Once this movie drops, I’ve been assured that I have two months off.”

“Before you’re whisked away from me again. Back into the heels, the diamonds, and the spotlight,”

It sucked. This whole thing sucked. You knew how much Rhett hated it, the way you were constantly gone. It had been this way since you were 19, a measly three years into your friendship turned romance, when you had gotten your big break with the biggest movie franchise of the modern era. In the seven years that had followed, you and Rhett had spent more time without one another than with each other, and it broke your heart every time you were whisked back onto a plane, back into the glittering cities and high society life without your cowboy at your side.

No one in this town understood one another the way you both understood each other. You may orbit two different worlds now, but there wasn’t a single person in Wabang that knew Rhett Abbott like you did, and there wasn’t a single hotshot celebrity that would ever understand you the way your cowboy did.

“Rhett-”

“No, that wasn’t fair of me,” he immediately cut in, shaking his head and pressing a short kiss to your forehead. Your fingers danced across his chest, drawing shapes into the fabric of his t-shirt, clinging to him under his flannel. “I’m being a bitch about it.”

“If you weren’t being a bitch about something, I’d actually be more concerned,”

That playful smile was back in seconds, Rhett’s hand leaving the loop of your jeans. It found its way to your ass, leaving a quick pinch there that had a laugh bubbling out of you, leaving a small whack on his chest for him to knock it off.

Your phone chose to buzz incessantly in your back pocket at that moment, right under Rhett’s hand. It wasn’t shocking, there was barely ever enough service to get text messages when you were out here watching Rhett ride, but every time you got to this back parking lot, your service kicked back in.

Rhett slipped your phone out of your pocket with a practiced ease. Lord knows you’d been in many similar and more compromising positions against this truck over the years. The phone screen illuminated his face, well enough that you could see the instant frown on his lips before he flicked the phone in your direction.

At least 15 texts in the last hour from Drew Livingston.

“Ignore him,” you sighed, taking your phone back and clearing the notifications from your co-star without reading a single one. Rhett just hummed, but that frown didn’t go away. “Come on, I know you want to run your mouth right now. Get it off your chest.”

It took Rhett a minute to talk, but you could already hear in your head what it was he wanted to say. You could see it in the clench of his jaw, in the tightening of his grip around your hip.

“He’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Which is saying something, since we grew up with the Tillersons,” not even a hand over your mouth could keep in the sharp laugh that escaped you, but Rhett pressed on. “Thinks he’s hot shit–what do they call it, a nepo baby–all because his daddy was famous, too…”

Rhett’s words trailed off, one hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch instinctively, the touch you had known your whole life, and you could see the corners of his lips finally twitch up just slightly at the action.

“I hate that he gets to see you every day,” Rhett’s thumb trailed back and forth over your cheek, before making its way to your lips, drawing a line down the middle of them and dragging your bottom lip down just slightly. “That I’m gonna have to watch a movie where he holds you, where he looks at you, where he kisses you-”

His words were swallowed by your kiss, lips slanted across his with a dizzying pressure. Rhett’s groan is swallowed in the kiss, in the parting of his mouth and yours, with the flick of your tongue just barely against the edge of his lips. That hand on your ass snuck its way into your pocket, ignoring your phone to grip the jeans-covered flesh of your ass and mold your body to his.

Rhett flipped the two of you easily, pressing your back against the driver’s side door as the handle dug just barely into your lower back. He didn’t let it dig in for long, that hand still gripping you, bringing you back in, his leg slotted between your legs now, pressing right where you needed him. Right where you’d dreamt about him being for the last month.

“Drew Livingston might kiss me on the big screen,” your words came out in a whisper against his lips, feeling the flex of his fingers against where he held tight to your body, your own Wyoming drawl more prevalent than ever in your voice. “But not against a dirty truck on the rodeo grounds. Never in the back of that truck, in the dead of night. Or lying somewhere on a sprawling ranch under the stars. And he sure as hell doesn’t get to fuck me at the end of the night…no, that’s all reserved for you, Rhett.”

“Don’t mention his name,” Rhett huffed out, hand trailing up your side. It ghosted over your collarbone beneath the edge of your t-shirt, playing with the dainty chain that hung around your neck. “Not when I’m in the middle of thinking ‘bout fucking you.”

You smiled softly, just watching him. His fingers played with that dainty gold chain, one from an old necklace you used to always wear. He tugged slightly, bringing it to lie on top of your shirt now, tips of his fingers just barely tracing over the edges of the little flower hanging from the end.

Rhett had made it. It was just days after you had kissed that night at 16, the two of you still tentatively exploring the romantic parts of your relationship together. He’d been helping Royal on the ranch when an old piece of the wire fence on the West edge snapped. They replaced it with a new coil of wire, but Rhett saved that small, broken piece of it. He shaped it himself, painstakingly, for hours, until it somewhat resembled the flowers that grew outside your bedroom window. Your old necklace you had forgotten one day when it broke, was sitting on his dresser, and he used it to turn it into a necklace for you, using an old rusty pair of pliers to fix the clasp of the necklace.

You remembered when he gave it to you: tentative, like he was scared you would run away.

I know I don’t offer a lot, but…I’ll love you. I’ll love you more than anything. I already do.

“Celebratory drinks first,” you cut in, bringing his gaze back up to your eyes, digging yourself out of that memory you cherished more than he’d ever know. Rhett groaned, leaning forward to leave a kiss to the pulse point beating within your neck that had you ready to give in right here and there.

“Darlin’,”

“You, my handsome cowboy, are a champion bull rider now. We celebrate that, first, then you can have me as your prize after,”

What could you say: Rhett always followed your lead.

It was verging on midnight by the time Cecelia had come outside to the porch, dragging a drunken Perry back through the doors and bidding you both a soft goodnight. You didn’t mind, instead letting yourself enjoy the quiet of the night on that same porch swing from a decade ago that held a special place in your heart.

Rhett’s head lay in your lap, Stetson discarded beside you on a rickety side table. All you could find yourself doing was watching him, ignoring the stars in the sky that you loved to watch from this very spot.

That dopey, slightly tipsy smile on his face as he couldn’t look away from you, those dilated ocean-blue eyes looking up at you. The flush to his cheeks from the alcohol running through his system. You ran your hand through his hair–slightly greasy as he had yet to shower off the competition, not that you minded–twirling strands between your fingers and scraping your nails just barely over his scalp.

“Championship bullrider,” you drew out the words a bit, a smirk on your face as the swing rocked back and forth just barely. “I like the sound of that. My boy, finally a champion like he deserves to be.”

“Wish that check they handed over screamed ‘champion,’”

“How much was it for?”

“Just a thousand,”

“We've got to get you into a real, professional circuit so you can make the good money for what you put your body through,”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t push. It was always a delicate subject–professional circuits–because that meant leaving Wabang behind. Instead, you fell into a comfortable silence together.

Your phone buzzed, and you checked it for just a second. Another text from Drew, something related to the interviews that were lined up before your late-night talk show appearance together. It was late, that was a text you could deal with tomorrow. Swiping the notification away, you popped open Instagram, smiling at your latest post, courtesy of those darling little girls from earlier.

“How’d it go over there in London?” Rhett eventually asked quietly.

You hummed, placing your phone back down by his hat to return your hand to his hair. Dragging your nails over his scalp again as you looked out toward the night sky, the quiet chirping of crickets in the air around you both. He was deflecting, but you decided to let him.

The lights inside the home had been turned off, the Abbott family all retreating to bed, leaving you both under just the light of the moon and the fireflies that flitted about.

“Wasn’t terrible, just long. A lot of 10 to 12-hour days. Wasn’t always interviews, though, there were photoshoots and then, of course, the premieres thrown into it,”

“Deputy Joy was over the other day, ‘nother fight with the Tillersons,” Rhett mentioned off-handedly, one of his hands coming up to run down the length of your arm and back up, before repeating itself. “She said you assured her that you would get the town a personal screening of the movie in that rundown theater by the post office.”

“I’ve done that with all my movies, Rhett,”

“I know, that’s why there’s a shrine to you in The Handsome Gambler,” he joked right back at your comment.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, and you knew it, too. There was an entire wall dedicated to the last four movies you had the pleasure of being part of, all personally signed by you as well, before they were fitted into frames and hung up. It didn’t help that the owner, Aiden Martin, had hung up old photos of you from your childhood around them, too. Yearbook photos, old photos that you weren’t sure how someone had wrangled from your parents’ home, and ones from old friends you no longer spoke to.

You didn’t entirely mind, Mr. Martin said it was good for business whenever tourists came through, diehard fans you had amassed, wanting to walk down the memory lane of your life.

“The shrine is a bit much, I’ll admit. Mr. Martin could’ve kept out the yearbook photos,”

“I like it,” Rhett muttered, taking your hand that had been resting across his abdomen in his and bringing it up to his lips, leaving a feather-soft kiss across your palm. “Just makes me proud.”

Sometimes, you wished that the people of Wabang got to see the Rhett Abbott that you did. They only ever saw him as what Royal constantly made him out to be: the fuck-up, the reject, the rebel, the disappointment of the Abbott family. He could be reckless, but quiet, unless you pissed him off. Lord knows he’d use his hands at the first chance he got; you had seen it many times throughout the years.

The Rhett you saw, the side only reserved for you, was so different. He was a fuck-up simply because he didn’t want to be what his father wanted him to be. He was a rebel only because he wanted a different life for himself so badly. With you, he was never any of those. He was still quiet sometimes, but so charismatic when he wanted to be. Charming, sweet, and an utter hopeless romantic. Hard not to get called a hopeless romantic when you fashion a flower necklace out of old fence wire for your sort-of girlfriend at the time.

There was a time when you had talked about it: running away. Starting over, making a new life for yourselves somewhere else. It didn’t matter where, as long as you were together. Rhett liked the idea of Texas, finding a ranch somewhere for just the two of you. You loved that idea, too…then Hollywood finally came calling, and finally saw in you what Rhett always saw. It bulldozed those wishful thinking plans you had crafted, and set you on the path you were walking now: you were living your dream, while Rhett was still stuck where he had always been.

“I meant to ask,” your voice was soft after a moment, fingers dancing around his as they interlaced with yours, your other hand still carding through the long strands of his hair. “Would you…like to come to the premiere with me?”

Rhett paused, just staring at your intertwined hands. You didn’t have to look at him to know the look that was written across his face, or to hear the little sigh he let out.

“Darlin’-”

“I know, I know, you hate New York,” you responded quickly before Rhett could properly speak, throwing your head back against the edge of the swing with a sigh of your own. “It’s stuffy, the people suck, it’s dirty, it’s so loud, you can’t see the stars because of the light pollution…you hate it, I know. You reminded me the entire week you were there for my very first premiere and haven’t been back since.”

It was quiet again for a moment.

“That’s your world, angel,” Rhett finally spoke, pressing another kiss to your hand before resting it back across his abdomen. Still intertwined with him. “Your world doesn’t have space for people like me.”

You couldn’t help it, the clench of your jaw at the way he said that.

“You forget that Rhett Abbott has been part of my world since I was a little girl…I don’t want to exist in a world that doesn’t have him as part of it,”

Getting worked up over this moment was stupid. Truly, genuinely, so stupid. But it was hard when Rhett talked about himself like that, when he still saw himself as some disappointment that wasn’t good enough for you, to exist in the world you had been welcomed into.

He shifted, head rising from your lap, and a hand cupped the back of your neck, bringing you back up so that you could look at him. Rhett was seated on the swing beside you now, looking down at you with so much love and care as he wiped the stray tear that managed to trickle down your cheek.

“No crying, sweetheart,”

“Hard not to,” you whispered back, trying to smile. “I just…I love you so much. You’re all I have left, you’re everything to me, and sometimes it feels like you don’t understand that.”

Rhett looked at you, and that’s all he really did. He just looked. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as he tried to find the words.

Your phone buzzed again, both of your gazes flickering toward it. Collectively, you both tried to ignore it until it buzzed again. With a defeated sigh, you grabbed the device again, flicking the screen open.

Yet again, even more texts from Drew, and given that you knew he was in New York, you didn’t even want to know how drunk he was or what party he was attending and doing god knows what at. The texts were at least coherent, though, just a bunch of messages discussing the upcoming interviews again and how his manager thought it would be a good idea to play up your characters’ connection during the interviews to really sell the romance aspect of it.

“Who is it?” Rhett muttered after a moment, his hand still cupping the back of your neck, fingers drawing shapes into the skin. You huffed, leaning into his touch as you typed back a simple ‘We’ll talk about it when I get back to New York’ text.

“Just Drew not understanding personal space. I get he wants to talk about work and how we plan to tackle certain aspects of the interviews, particularly the character romance, but it’s fucking two in the morning over there. Like…go to bed?”

With your phone tossed aside, you looked back at Rhett. He was still just looking, watching you, but it was different this time. Something in his eyes was darker, his jaw was clenched just slightly, and you could practically see the tension in his shoulders.

“What–?”

He didn’t let you speak, just pulled you into a searing kiss. You didn’t complain, having just kissed him not even an hour ago, when Perry was still awake and drinking with you both, and still missing the taste of his lips.

That tension, that darkness in his eyes, translated into his kiss. It was bruising, his lips practically devouring you. His hand still gripped onto your neck, locking you to him, his tongue sliding across your lower lip and dipping just barely into your mouth, swallowing the breathless moan that escaped your throat in that second. Your nails dug into his bicep, surely leaving little crescent-shaped marks, and that’s when Rhett pulled back just slightly, nipping just barely at your bottom lip.

“I’ll come with you…to New York,”

He was so sure in the way he said it, but you still couldn’t process the words being said to you. Leaning back as far as his hand would let you, looking up at him with furrowed brows and your head cocked to the side.

“Rhett, don’t feel like you have to just because I started crying-”

“I want to,” he said again, definitively. You watched him, trying to decipher what it was that had changed his demeanor and mind so quickly, but you couldn’t pinpoint it anywhere in his face. “You’re everything to me too, darlin’. So, if I have to suffer in that city to show it to you, I will.”

Whatever that look was in his eyes, whatever had changed his mind, you dropped it in that moment. Instead, you laughed, leaning back in and letting him steal yet another heated kiss from your lips.

“I’ll text Trina so she can get everything sorted out-”

“Tomorrow,” Rhett’s voice had dropped again, huskier, as he nipped at your lip once more, before trailing his lips down to your jawline. “I believe I was promised you, my pretty little angel, as a prize after some celebratory drinks tonight…and I’ve had enough with drinking for the night.”

❤︎

Rhett hated your townhouse in New York.

He’d been in your childhood home many times growing up, and had seen the traces of you scattered throughout. Your stacks of CDs, the pile of clothing in the corner of your room overflowing your laundry basket. Wall-to-wall bookshelves, an entire shelf dedicated to every special edition of “For Those We Love” that existed, with money you’d scraped together from odd jobs throughout town. You collected posters from magazines of all the movies you had ever loved, the actors and actresses you admired. A photo wall, dedicated to photos throughout your childhood until you were a teen, sat right below your shelf of equestrian competition trophies. Rhett had been in most of those photos and at every one of those competitions.

This townhouse was nothing like your room. Pristine, clean, white walls and white furniture with minimal pops of colors here and there. Chandeliers that probably cost more than the entire Abbott family ranch. Photos were hung, but not like your childhood bedroom. Magazine covers with you on them, press tour photos, movie posts, all hung around the shelf in the living room, housing the multiple awards you had won through the years.

An entire house curated and designed by Trina and her team, lacking everything that made you the woman he’d fallen in love with the second he understood what love was.

Rhett tried to ignore those thoughts in his head as he glanced around the bedroom he’d been in multiple times, taking in those same features of the room that he despised, the ones that made him feel out of place. Instead, he shifted it to you.

Still asleep, breath ghosting over his bare chest where your head lay right over the tattoo etched into his pectoral. Fingers curled across his abdomen, flexing every few moments in the quiet of the morning. Rhett couldn’t help but smile at the sight, just barely brushing his fingertips through your hair, curling stray pieces away from your face.

“It’s rude to stare,” he could just faintly hear you mumble, feeling your smile curl against his skin. A low laugh grumbled through him as he leaned down, leaving a lasting kiss against your hairline.

“Have to admire the work of art lying beside me naked,”

He watched as you turned just barely, moving up his body. Your arms rested against his chest, head hovering just above his, and Rhett let his arms settle around your bare waist and hug you closer to him.

“Morning, cowboy,”

“Mornin’, sunshine,”

His smile grew at the little hum in your throat, before you leaned down to kiss him. Rhett couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he eagerly brought you closer to him in the midst of the kiss, curling a hand around the back of your head to cradle you to him.

“Wish we could stay here all day,” you mumbled against his lips as Rhett left peck after peck upon them. “But we have quite a long day today.”

“Five more minutes, darlin’, just five more…”

Five became ten before Rhett finally relented, defending himself from the attack you launched on him, claiming his lips were “too addictive” and you needed to get up.

Clad in nothing but the lounge pants he’d managed to pull on in haste, Rhett’s eyes never left you as you descended the stairs down to the kitchen. Wearing his t-shirt, the hem dropping right at your mid thigh, barely covering you and the tiny pair of panties you had slipped on in the morning.

He had half a mind to drag you right back up to that bed and never let you leave it, not until his name was the only one you could ever remember.

“You’re late,”

Your body jumped back into Rhett’s, who quickly grabbed you and dragged you just behind him at the voice that called out as you both stepped into the kitchen. Tension rolled off of both of you the second you both could see who it was speaking.

“Trina, what have I told you about coming in here without texting me?” you scolded your manager, crossing the kitchen to open the fridge. Rhett stayed in his place, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, eyes darting between both of you.

“When it’s 11:30 in the morning, and I told you we’d be here at 11 to get you ready for the press, I’m going to let myself in. I chose not to walk upstairs to protect my damn eyes from what I might see,” it was then that Trina finally looked in Rhett’s direction, her mouth dropping into a flat line and her tone bordering on almost boredom as she spoke. “Hello, Rhett.”

Rhett gave her the most cordial nod that he could, joining you at your side as you slid a glass of orange juice into his hand.

He didn’t hate Trina, not in the slightest. She’d helped you secure your dream, he’d always thank her for that, but that didn’t mean he liked the woman. She reminded him too much of your own mother, the one who had disowned you, in a way. Headstrong, didn’t like taking no for an answer, and always had to have things done her way. He didn’t like letting his mind wander, to think if you were being forced into any situations just because Trina found them to be best.

“I assume that the team is all set up in the living room,” you questioned your manager. With a nod in response from her, you turned back to Rhett, leaving another kiss on his lips that really had him struggling not to kick everyone out and just keep you all to himself. “Half an hour tops, I promise.”

Rhett hummed in response, letting you make your way over to Trina at the table. He couldn’t argue with it, really, he knew how long your team took to get you ready at times.

“Got the paperwork back for that…side thing we talked about. They accepted, you just have to sign. Just remember that I really don’t agree with it,” Trina rolled her eyes as she said it, passing you a manila folder. Rhett could almost see the way your eyes lit up as you took the folder from her quickly, flipping through the contents as you moved into your living room. Rhett didn’t get to dwell on it, though; instead, his attention was brought back to Trina as she snapped in his direction. “Half an hour, cowboy. I want you to look Hollywood-level presentable.”

What the entertainment industry considered “presentable” wasn’t something that Rhett Abbott could fathom, or recreate, so he got as close as he could. His nicest pair of jeans with his nicest button-down shirt that he kept specifically here in New York with the love of his life, so there was no chance it ever got dirty. The dirty cowboy boots on his feet, tucked beneath his jeans, were the only dead giveaway that he didn’t belong, besides the look on his face. Rhett had even forgone the Stetson for the day, leaving it back in the living room in your townhome.

Everyone around Rhett knew he didn’t belong, though, that he stood out no matter what, and he knew it too.

Teams of reporters and interviewers moved through the room, talking with assistant after assistant to confirm their spot in the lineup of interviews. Rhett stood as out of the way as he could, shifting back and forth on his feet. His eyes never left you, though.

Black slacks that hugged you just perfectly, matching black heels, and a deep purple blouse tucked into the waistband of your slacks. You spoke across the room with Trina, already seated in your chair, as an assistant fixed the lip gloss across your lips and ensured that your hair was in place.

You met his eyes from across the room, lips stretching into a smile even as the assistant scolding you to hold still, and sent him a wink. He caught sight as you moved of that stupid wire flower hanging around your neck, and couldn’t help but smile.

Rhett never talked about his feelings often, just with you. So, he had no one to really talk to growing up about the butterflies your smile always gave him, or the flutter in his chest you were still capable of giving him all this time later.

“Well, well, well! Rhett, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Rhett didn’t want to say that he hated Drew Livingston; he’d never met him until now, but…he hated him. At least, he hated what the man exuded. A fake air of confidence, fueled by the knowledge of how famous his father had been, dressed in only the finest designers, that totaled up to more money than Rhett had ever seen in his life.

Now, the actor stood before him, and Rhett still disliked him. Smug smirk, dressed from head to toe in a deep purple Valentino suit that–as much as Rhett hated it–matched your shirt perfectly. His Rolex glinted off the overhead lights, but Rhett found solace at least seeing that the man was just a few inches shorter than him.

Besides, if he could deal with the Tillerson family his entire life, he could deal with one more entitled prick.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Rhett huffed out, faking a smile with no teeth as he held his hand out. It didn’t go unnoticed to him the way Drew glanced at it, almost grimacing, before shaking Rhett’s hand.

“Our darling girl has told me so much about you,” Rhett’s fingers flexed at just the simple use of that nickname. No one should be calling you that but him. Drew’s eyes flicked down Rhett’s outfit, studying him, judging him, before their gazes met again. “Nice to see that you…clean up so well. Or, as well as a ranch hand can.”

If Rhett didn’t know any better, Drew Livingston could be a distant cousin of the Tillersons. Though that was a little far: even Rhett wouldn’t force the Tillersons to associate with the likes of this prick.

His grip on Drew’s hand tightened just slightly, but not enough to be noticeable.

“Bull rider, actually,” Rhett shot back slowly, staring down the man before him, wishing he could just take a swing and wipe that smirk off his face. “Championship one now.”

“I saw in her latest post, how…cute,” Drew laughed, tightening his own grip back on Rhett’s hand, but the Abbott boy didn’t flinch. “Can’t imagine that pays much, especially since there’s no ring on her finger. Ten years together, damn. You should really find a way to lock her down, Abbott, before someone…worthy of her comes along.”

That’s what did it. Rhett’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together, and the semblance of a fake smile wiped off his face in an instant with just a few words.

He tightened his grip on Drew’s hand, as if he were gripping onto his bull for dear life, and there it was: a wince in Drew Livingston’s face. That was enough to bring a smirk to Rhett’s face, now.

His voice stayed low, but it bordered on something else, something more dangerous, as he spoke. “There’s not a single man on this earth worthy of her, pretty boy, and if you can’t see that…then you sure as hell don’t come close to it.”

Someone–maybe Trina–called out for places, announcing that the interviews would begin soon. Neither Rhett nor Drew let go right away, gazes locked as if still in a battle with one another. All Rhett did was give the movie star’s hand one last tight squeeze before conceding, allowing the man to take his place across the room in the chair next to yours.

His eyes met yours, and he could see the question written across your face in the raise of your eyebrow: you good?

Rhett gave a simple nod, crossing his arms with his jaw still tight with tension, as the first interviewer entered the room.

If that simple conversation solidified anything for Rhett, it was that he did hate Drew Livingston.

“This movie has been a long time coming, an adaptation of one of the greatest books of the twenty-first century,” the young reporter, a woman just barely in her twenties, asked animatedly somewhere in the middle of her interview. “I have to know, what was it like for you two to take on such iconic roles such as Trace and Millie?”

“It’s been the role of a lifetime, but incredibly daunting at the same time,” your response came quickly, and Rhett’s grin returned, just watching your response and seeing that little smile on your face. Your eyes met across the room for a split second as you gestured off camera in his direction. “I mean, you can ask my boyfriend, this book became my whole personality growing up, I had an entire self dedicated to every special edition there was. I remember when my agent said they wanted me to audition for Millie–I don’t think there was anyone in New York who didn’t hear me scream. But these characters are so beloved, I know a lot was riding on me to embody her and everything she stands for with grace.”

“For me, any nerves I had about this role went right out the window the second I was in a room with this girl,” Drew cut in, flashing a dazzling smile in your direction as he casually threw his arm around the back of your chair. “I mean, she’s played a literal superhero on the big screen, but she’s a real-life superhero too. So poised, so incredibly talented–I couldn’t imagine having done this movie with anyone else, truly. I’m so blessed I got to go on this journey with her at my side.”

If Rhett’s jaw could clench any harder, if his teeth could grind together more, surely he’d be sanding a few inches off of his enamel. Just that slimy man’s arm around the back of your chair, that smug smirk he subtly shot off camera in Rhett’s direction, made him want to stalk over there and haul him into a back alley by the collar of his shirt.

The interviews continued, 5-10 minutes per interviewer, all asking questions that bordered on being the same exact questions.

What was it like taking on the characters? Was there anything changed from the books to the movie? Can we expect an adaptation of the book’s equally as critically acclaimed sequel?

You handled yourself with a practiced poise and grace and humility with every question, laughing when appropriate and taking a more serious approach to integral questions, too. Every so often, your gaze would flick over to Rhett, and any tension he felt toward your co-star melted at just seeing you so happy, so in love with what it was you got to call your job. Your dream.

“Alright, they’re waving me off that it’s almost time to go, so just one last question for you both,” it was the final interviewer of the day before you’d be whisked off for your big late-night appearance recording. The man was older, somewhere around Royal Abbott’s age, with a press tag that read the name of some magazine that Rhett had never heard of. “Looking back on the filming of this movie, what would you each say was your favorite moment throughout filming?”

“Playing Millie as a whole,” you answered easily, that happy smile back on your face at just talking about the character. “She’s so strong and passionate, while also able to show her most vulnerable aspects, and growing up, she had always been this perfect representation of what I wanted to be. I have to say that getting to run from zombies in this was fantastic, but getting to do it as a character that I have always adored meant more than anything. I just hope that I’ve played her to the best of my ability, and that a new generation can watch this movie and look up to her in the way that I did when reading the books.”

The interviewer said something in response to you, but Rhett’s gaze had been caught by Drew once more. There was a hint of a smirk on the man’s face again, as he dared to shoot him a sly wink, before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“By far, the best moments for me were any moments that I got to share with this wonderful woman,” he played up his response, hand leaving his lap to come to rest over your knee with a playful squeeze. “Every scene with her is like magic, the chemistry is so mindblowing that it’s so easy to forget that we’re acting. And the kiss scene, oh boy, that was on another level-”

He was touching you, and Rhett was seeing red.

It didn’t matter what the stuck-up bastard was saying right now, even if the simple mention of that damn kiss scene spread across every trailer had Rhett biting his tongue, the fact that he had the nerve to touch you. No one touched you like that, no one except for Rhett himself.

What pissed him off more was the look on your face, that grimace as you awkwardly laughed and shifted your leg out of his hold: you were uncomfortable, and that pissed him off a hundred times more.

Rhett’s glare never left Drew, who still wore a cocky smirk on his face, as the interview room was cleaned up. Not even when you were back in his arms, cradling his jaw in your hands and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had heat vision and were trying to burn a hole into the side of Drew’s face from across the room,”

Rhett huffed out a clipped laugh, gaze trailing down to you, and finally softening. His arms found their place around your hips, holding you to him as tightly as he could.

“You were uncomfortable-”

“Yes, and I had it handled,” you reminded him gently, stealing a quick kiss from his lips that Rhett was desperate for more of. “You can’t just go punching anyone who makes me uncomfortable.”

“I did to Luke Tillerson when he tried to hit on you a few years ago-”

“Yeah, then I had to bail you out of jail the next morning: point proven,”

“Let’s go, people!” Trina called out, directing the group of people littering around the room toward the doors with a wave of her hand. “Show recording starts in an hour and a half, studio is expecting us in the next 20 minutes!”

Rhett’s hand didn’t leave your knee, right where it belonged, the entire limo ride across Midtown to the studio lot, and his glare never left Drew Livingston. Drew’s smirk never faltered either, and he held Rhett’s gaze like it was a game: like you were a game to him. It had the Abbott boy almost seeing red once again.

Anxiety crawled through Rhett’s system the second they were parked in front of the studio lots, and he could already hear the cheers of the crowd around the front doors before he stepped out of the limo. Once he did, it was blinding–more so, overwhelming-the amount of people crowded around for a simple glimpse at the movie star love of his life.

For a moment, he felt like he couldn’t see through the flashes of the paparazzi cameras, reaching back into the limo to take your hand and help you out onto the sidewalk. As the crowd cheers grew, and you smiled and waved to them all, Rhett made sure to “accidentally” shut the door of the limo in Drew’s face, before tugging you toward the doors of the studio.

He felt your hands squeeze his three little times: I love you.

Rhett didn’t hesitate to return it four times: I love you, too.

You were whisked away from him again, just as this world always demanded, off into a dressing room of your own to change for the recording of your late-night talk show appearance. Rhett was left to his own devices in the studio’s green room.

Some stupid song, probably something from the charts he never listened to, was playing softly off a radio in the corner. The television across from the couch Rhett sat on, the one he would be able to watch the coming show on, just had that familiar logo of the show spinning around on it. With a heavy sigh, he poured himself a glass of whiskey from the platter sitting on the table in front of him, resigning himself to a drink as his boot-covered foot tapped incessantly against the rug beneath him.

“Feel out of place?”

Lost in his own thoughts, Rhett hadn’t heard or seen Drew enter the room, clad in a brand new black suit this time. He flashed Rhett a smile before stalking across the room, pouring himself a glass of his own vodka from the tray sitting on top of the piano. Rhett’s hand around his glass flexed involuntarily.

“A bit,” he let himself answer, taking another swig of his drink, voice still gruff with indifference toward the man. “Nothing like Wyoming.”

“I bet, much cleaner here,” Drew paused, laughing to himself as he leaned against the piano, gesturing vaguely in Rhett’s direction. “Nothing personal, didn’t mean that as a slight against you, pal. Just…trying to understand.”

Rhett hummed, just watching the spinning logo on the screen.

“Understand what?”

“What the hell she sees in you,”

Rhett’s jaw locked up again, teeth grinding together, as his fingers white-knuckled the glass in his hand. Drew only laughed again from across the room, continuing his tirade before Rhett could interject.

“One of the most sought-after actresses of our generation, the world treats her like a princess everywhere she goes, and yet she stays with you,” Drew crossed the room, plopping into a seat directly below the television, forcing himself into Rhett’s line of sight. “From what I’ve heard: a 26-year-old bum with, basically, no job–unless you count bull riding, which again, I’m sure pays so much–who still lives on his family ranch. No dreams, no aspirations, besides getting bucked off bulls into the dirt and going drinking at some rundown bar afterward.”

It took everything in Rhett to keep his cool, even though he was sure, with enough pressure, he could crack the glass in his hand into a thousand pieces. His steeled gaze shot down to finally look at the actor across from him, practically dripping in money, the exact opposite of Rhett.

“Yeah, I don’t offer much, never said I did,” were the words he settled on, bringing his glass up to his lips for another sip. “There a point to this conversation?”

“Yeah, there is. You talk about how no one is worthy of her, but what you fail to realize is that you, Abbott…are the least worthy of that woman of the whole bunch,”

That was enough to give Rhett pause, his glass settling just barely against his lips. Drew continued before he could speak once more.

“I know for a fact that you haven’t been to a single premiere of hers since the very first one, until now, even though she invites you to every single one. I know that, because she told me that,” he casually swirled his vodka in his glass, just watching the liquid slosh around. “Should I mention again that you’ve been with her for ten years and haven’t put a ring on her finger, haven’t given her a definitive answer on your future together? Oh, right, you can’t because you can’t afford her. The most famous woman on the planet right now, adored by thousands if not millions, and you can’t leave the comforts of Wyoming to support her. I’ve been there, making sure on the days she’s sad that her tears don’t fall, or buying her congratulations gifts when she wins another award or has another glowing article written about her. You want to talk about worth, Abbott?”

Drew leaned forward just slightly, taking a sip of his drink with a smirk still on his lips.

“You have nothing to offer her, Abbott: no money, no support, no future. You’re hanging onto high school dreams and fantasies while she’s made a name for herself. You’re holding her back, and it’s only a matter of time until she comes to her senses and realizes what a disappointment her high school cowboy really is,” he leaned back again, casually, as if his words hadn’t cut like a knife. “I’m just looking out for you, Rhett, man-to-man. If you love her, you’d realize she’s in much better hands with me than your own.”

Disappointment.

Rhett could almost hear Royal’s voice in his head saying it.

Drew only sat silently, that smirk still on his face, still swirling his drink around the glass.

“Been meaning to ask, it’s an…interesting necklace she always wears. That messy wire design, it’s a flower, right? Or, supposed to be…”

Disappointment. Rhett couldn’t get that word out of his head, even as he found himself nodding.

“It’s, uh, it's Fireweed. They-”

“Native to Wyoming, grew outside her bedroom window,” Drew finished off, chugging the last of his drink. “I know. She told me.”

There was a knock at the door then, Trina poking her head in to announce it was go time.

You stepped in after, and Rhett looked over. Makeup and hair done to perfection, sparkly heels that still barely had you reaching his own height, and a gorgeous off-the-shoulder black dress that fit you like a glove.

Rhett couldn’t even appreciate it to its fullest extent, too lost in his own head.

Drew greeted you, some over-the-top comment about how gorgeous you looked. You were beside Rhett moments later, leaning down just slightly to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched as you watched him, saw that flicker of concern in your eyes, as you mumbled a quick “you okay?” to him. All he could do was nod, never even shutting his eyes as you stole a kiss from his lips, before you were whisked out to the stage.

Even as the show began, Rhett couldn’t watch. He couldn’t get Drew’s words out of his head.

Did Drew have a point? Rhett didn’t want to think so, but nothing he said was a lie. He had no job; he’d won only one championship now in bull-riding and wasn’t going to be winning much money in the Wyoming circuits.

He’d looked at rings, of course, he had. Rhett knew he wanted to marry you from the moment you had first kissed that night on his porch. But no ring was ever good enough, and even the measly thousand this championship had afforded him wasn’t going to get him a ring that you deserved.

Rhett lived at home, on his family ranch, with the family that treated him like the rebellious, disappointing son, but he didn’t try to leave. He wanted to leave with you once, but those dreams died the moment you achieved your lifelong dream, when you got sucked into the world of glitz and glamour. Dreams of a Texas ranch, far away from both of your families, just the two of you and acres of land to yourself, were a faraway dream now.

You were a household name. People adored you in every city you went to. You were dressed day to day in the finest clothing money could buy and lavished in the finest gifts. Maybe Drew had a point: Rhett couldn’t afford to love you, not the way you deserved.

“You two just have so much chemistry,” the host, Jimmy, spoke as the crowd cheered in agreement with him. Rhett finally looked up at the television, feeling as if hours had passed, watching the end of the interview play out on the screen. “You have to just love working together.”

“I mean, I won’t lie, of course I love working with this talented woman,” Drew laughed, reaching over and laying a hand on your arm as you laughed it off. “She made every moment on set so amazing that I had to find the perfect way to thank her. It took me a while to think of it, but I thought now would be the perfect time!”

Rhett watched you on the screen, that adorably confused look on your face, as Drew reached into a bag behind his chair. The crowd cheered loudly once again as he pulled out a long velvet box. He popped it open, and the camera zoomed in on it as the crowd gasped in awe.

A necklace. Decorated with more diamonds than Rhett had ever seen in his life. Hanging from it? A glittering, diamond-encrusted Fireweed flower.

“Oh-! Oh Drew, it’s…it’s gorgeous!” he watched as you laughed, taking the box from his hands to look at the necklace closer, before shooting your co-star a small, sheepish smile. “T-Thank you, truly. Working with you was a privilege, too.”

Drew took your hand in his, bringing you both to your feet as the crowd cheered once more. Then, he brought your hand to his lips, laying a kiss on your knuckles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your stars of 'For Those We Love,' in theaters this Friday, so check it out! Goodnight!”

Whatever Rhett was feeling before, it didn’t matter. No, if he had been seeing red earlier on in the day, he wasn’t sure how to describe the pure rage flowing through him right now.

His empty whisky glass slammed down onto the table before him, and he was sure somewhere in the back of his head he heard the glass crack. Rhett practically threw his body into the greenroom door, slamming it open so hard that a group of interns walking past jumped in their place. He paid them no mind, though, already stalking through the hallways toward the stage.

It didn’t matter who he shoved into in order to get there; Rhett bodied his shoulder into every person in his way, following the signs along the wall that led backstage. And when he got there, his eyes zoned right in on his target.

You were off to the side, speaking in hushed whispers behind the curtain to the stage with Trina, waving your hands animatedly. Rhett wasn’t looking at you, though; his eyes were on Drew. Unalarmed, back to him, conversing with his own manager.

Rhett Abbott didn’t give the movie star a second to react, clamping his hand down onto his shoulder hard and throwing him backwards. Drew stumbled as a few people in the area let out gasps of shock. The second Drew laid eyes on him, all he could do was laugh, stumbling to regain his balance.

“Cowboy, how nice of you to join us-”

Rhett took him by the collar of the shirt, throwing him back hard against the pillar just behind him. More gasps rang through the room, someone shouting for security, but Rhett didn’t care. He bared his teeth, grinding them together, as he almost snarled just inches from Drew’s face.

“What makes you think you have the right to fucking touch her?”

“Rhett!” he could almost hear your voice call out from across the room, but was too occupied with Drew’s laughter.

“Come on, cowboy, I’m just playing the game for her heart. Think I won over the fans with that move,”

“My girl isn’t a fucking prize to be won, you piece of shit,”

“Isn’t she?” Drew cocked an eyebrow.

Rhett’s hands tightened on the man’s collar as he let go with one hand, balling it into a fist, before a hand grabbed at his fist, tugging it back. He turned, seeing you now standing beside him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Do you want to be on the cover of every tabloid by the end of the night for starting a fight right now?” you hissed out, and he could see Trina rocking back and forth nervously behind you. “Rhett…let him go, now. Please.”

He watched you for just a moment, seeing the pleading in your eyes, before he glanced back at Drew. He was still smirking, watching this all like he enjoyed it.

It took every ounce of Rhett’s strength to let go of the man, taking a step away from him, but his hand was still balled into a fist.

Security arrived, but Trina waved them off, promising that she was handling it and that you were all leaving immediately.

Your hand stayed on Rhett’s arm the entire way back into the limo, past the paparazzi who had no idea what had just occurred upstairs, and even as the vehicle pulled away.

You squeezed at it three times, but Rhett couldn’t bring himself to answer.

❤︎

The limo had been dead silent the entire ride back home, and not the comfortable kind of silence.

The second you were parked, you handed Rhett the keys to the front door, and he was gone in seconds, tearing up the steps and into the house without ever looking back.

It was then that Trina gave you an earful. She spewed every word in the book toward you about Rhett, calling him “reckless” and a “liability,” talking about how dangerous that stunt he pulled at the studio was.

“Drew’s manager assured me that he’s having every single person that witnessed what happened sign an NDA right now, we don’t need this kind of press before the premiere tomorrow,” Trina sighed, running a hand down her face as she shook her head. “Look, I know I’ve never been Rhett’s biggest fan, but…that was so out of line, honey. I expected more from him; his actions were, frankly, very disappointing-”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that, Trina,” you snapped immediately, shooting a glare her way as your hand rested on the handle of the door, seconds from slamming it open and stalking away from her. “I don’t know what happened, but I know for Rhett to act that way, then Drew had to do some pretty nasty shit. So don’t fucking act all high and mighty and call him disappointing when you and I both know that Drew isn’t the saint you like to paint him to be.”

Trina was silent for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes, before she simply nodded her head.

“Well…I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to get you both for the premiere, then. Please, don’t be late,”

You didn’t say anything back to her, simply slammed the limo door on your way out, and slammed your front door and locked it behind you, too.

The house was quiet, and you hated it. Slipping your shoes off by the front door, you took the steps up to the main floor, tossing your clutch and phone onto the dining room table, right next to that manila folder from the morning. You passed by the kitchen windows, shutting both the blinds and the curtains as you went.

Rhett sat in the living room. His boots were already discarded across the room, his button-down half unbuttoned, as he leaned back against the couch, simply staring up at the ceiling. You moved past him without a word, shutting the living room blinds and curtains as well.

You turned back to Rhett, rocking on the balls of your feet for a moment, just watching him in silence.

“Anything you want to say?”

Rhett huffed out a laugh, running a hand down his face.

“Not sure what you want me to say,”

“You can start by simply explaining whatever the fuck that all was,” you threw back. “You shoved him into a pole and almost punched him, Rhett. Backstage, where an entire crew of people could see and could’ve recorded!”

“Yeah, well,” Rhett muttered, still not looking at you. “He had it coming.”

It was your turn to laugh, shaking your head incredulously.

“Rhett Abbott, you’re going to have to do better than that-”

“What do you want me to say?” Rhett sat up fully this time, looking at you finally. You couldn’t quite decipher what emotion it was swimming in his eyes. “He’s a prick, I’d rather deal with the Tillersons any day of the week. He’s self-centered, arrogant, and he makes me want to shove his head through a wall. That good enough for you, darlin’?”

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” you shot back, pointing in his direction. “I’m not the one you’re pissed at right now.”

“No, I’m pissed at him!” Rhett threw his hands outward before tugging at the collar of his shirt. “He’s so fucking in love with you, and it pisses me off.”

You scoffed, taking a few steps toward the couch.

“Drew Livingston isn’t in love with me-”

“Yes, he is-”

“No, Drew Livingston has a track record of going after his co-stars, especially the ones that are taken,” you shook your head as you took another step toward the couch. “He likes the chase of it all.”

“That’s why you confide in him?” Rhett shot back, turning to look at you again. “Let him wipe your tears when you’re sad on set? Buy you gifts, like that necklace?”

“What, he told you all this so you just decided to believe him?” your eyes shot wide, and when Rhett didn’t respond, you knew the answer. You couldn’t help but laugh again. “He is a prick, Rhett, I have always thought so. When I am sad on set, or sad anytime, really, I call you and only you. That man has never once comforted me; he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Everything he’s ever bought me? Given straight to Trina to donate to charity. That necklace stunt he fucking pulled tonight? I shoved it straight into Trina’s hands and warned her that if he doesn’t fuck off, then I don’t care how much I love these books, I’ll break my contract and refuse the sequel.”

Rhett got quiet then, eyes cast to the floor. You watched the way his hands wrung together in his lap, the incessant tapping of his foot against the floor, and your heart broke all at once, every ounce of anger in your body dissipating in a second when you noticed those nervous tics of his.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out after a moment, taking a deep breath, your voice light as you spoke. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

His head shot up then, a confused look written across his features, mixed with his anxiety.

“Darlin’, why are you sorry?”

You threw your hands out, gesturing to the entire house you stood in. “Because I did this to us. I chose this life, I thrust you into this world that’s so messy and so complicated, so that I could chase my dream. I…I made it so hard to love me, and I’m so sorry for it.”

It must have been something in what you said, but you could almost see any of the anger left in Rhett disappear at that moment, too.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a deep breath, hands still wringing together, as he shook his head.

“Loving you…it’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, darlin’. Always has been, always will be. It’s being worthy of you…that’s the hard part,”

Quiet settled over the room again before you walked forward, sitting on the coffee table directly before Rhett. His legs parted on instinct, letting you sit directly between them.

You laid a hand on his knee, and his eyes met yours.

“Baby, where’s this coming from?”

Rhett got quiet. It wasn’t unusual for him to get quiet, especially when talks such as this were on the table. Rhett hated discussing his feelings, always afraid to say the wrong thing and fuck up, no matter how much you promised him he could never fuck up with you.

Your gaze trailed over his hands as they cupped yours, lifting it from his knees, cradling it against his lips as he left a gentle kiss against each knuckle of your hand. He sighed, his breath ghosting over the spots he kissed, before his eyes locked with yours again.

“It’s coming from that asshole,” another kiss to your hand, and your fingers flexed, just barely brushing over and caressing his jawline and the stubble that lined it. “He…he called me a disappointment. Said you were going to wake up one day and see me for what I was. I…I have nothing to offer you, sweetheart, yet you stay with me.”

Quiet settled over the room again. You wiggled your hand free of his hold, sliding it up so you could fully cup his jawline, that stubble scratching into your palm. Rhett still held your wrist now, turning to kiss your palm gently, and your heart broke at the sight.

“No money, no support, no future,” he continued before you could speak again. “Can’t provide for you, can’t be there to support you. I…can’t even buy you the ring I’ve always wanted. Couldn’t even run away with you like we planned, can’t do anythin’ right. You deserve…so much more than this.”

Something in his words sparked something in you. You sat up straighter, tugging your hand from his hold, before disappearing into the kitchen.

When you returned just a moment later, that manila folder sat in your hands. Rhett’s eyes followed you every step of the way as you stepped over his leg, fully standing between his open legs now as you slid the folder into his hands without a word.

He didn’t say anything, just looked down and flipped it open. You could only watch him as he flipped through the various pages, the ones that held your signature, the photos, the glaringly obvious price shown on the first page.

“What…what is this?”

“This is a ranch. In Texas,” you flipped one of the papers back around, pointing down to the photos on it. “Over 800 acres of land, even a private lake. Large home, huge barn, horse stables, the whole works…I signed for it this morning. Sold this place two weeks ago, and I bought this ranch.”

Rhett glanced up again, astonishment written in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated it again as he tried to find the words.

“You bought this?” you gave him a small nod. “Why?”

“Because this was our dream,”

He didn’t fight you as you took the folder from his grasp, tossing it aside to the floor. Rhett leaned into your touch as your hands cradled his cheeks, thumbs ghosting over his skin, while his hands settled on the backs of your bare thighs, just barely under the hem of your dress.

“It’s a few years later than we wanted it to be, but I never forgot about our dream, Rhett. I’m doing what I love, but none of it’s worth a damn without the only man I have ever loved,” his lips quirked up, just barely, but you caught it. “Your worth is not, and never will be, determined by what anyone else says or thinks. Not Royal, not the entire town of Wabang, and certainly not Drew. I don’t want someone who thinks they’re worthy of the movie star persona that the world sees. I want the cowboy who used to pick me up when I fell off my horse, who would run across town in the middle of the night to see me, who used to pick me flowers off the side of the road just to see me smile. You’re worthy of me because I say that you are. You’re worthy of me because you’re the man who gave me a sense of home, even when I lost mine, and no one can ever take that away from you.”

You paused, thinking over your words for a moment.

“I don’t want a man who can give me the finest jewelry, or wear the most expensive suit. I want the man who confessed to me that he couldn’t offer me much…except to love me more than anything. That’s all I want.”

There were very few times that you had ever seen Rhett Abbott cry in your life together. The first time he’d ever lost a bull-riding competition, he’d cried in frustration, torn up by the comments from his father about how this ‘maybe wasn’t for him.’ The first time you both ever had a fight, when you were 15 and didn’t speak to him for three days, he cried when he finally apologized to you. You had cried too, as he stumbled through his speech about how you were his best friend, and if he lost you, he wouldn’t know what to do.

This was only the third time you had ever seen Rhett cry.

You didn’t hesitate to wipe away the tears, leaning in to kiss at the little streaks left behind on the apples of his cheeks.

The grip his hands held on your thighs tightened, and then, he squeezed them three simple times: I love you.

Your lips stretched into a smile against his cheek, before you left four little pecks to the corner of his mouth: I love you, too.

Rhett didn’t give you a second to think before he captured your lips in a kiss within moments.

It was the most natural thing in the world, kissing Rhett Abbott. And still, even now, it felt like the first time all over again. Your head tilted just slightly, lips rolling over his as his fingers left indents into the flesh of your thighs, teeth clattering against yours as he kissed you with every ounce of passion in his body. In that kiss, you could almost smell the air of the Abbott ranch, could picture the fireflies that floated around the air that night, and your gut twisted in memory of the feeling of his lips for the first time.

Whatever might have started innocently, loving, and passionate, went downhill very quickly.

Rhett tugged, and your body listened. Hands gripping the back of the couch behind him as you leaned in, you parted your legs easily, sliding them to bracket his hips and settle onto his lap. Your dress bunched up around your waist, leaving just the thing lingerie you had chosen for the night between your core and the bulge that was heaving against Rhett’s jeans.

His hands slid up, fully cupping your ass in each calloused palm, as he forced your hips to roll against him. A moan tumbled from your lips in moments, swallowed by his mouth as his tongue darted past your open lips, spit slick between your lips.

Just one of your hands found its place in his hair, tugging on those long strands until a groan of his own tumbled from his lips. Rhett’s teeth caught your bottom lip, latching on just enough to leave a pleasurable sting in the feeling, before letting go with a slight pop. Your other hand found the buttons of his shirt, popping open the last few in order to slip your hand inside, letting yourself drag your nails over every inch of his skin you could get your hands on.

“Night before your premiere, darlin’,” Rhett muttered out against your lips, bucking his hips up into you as you continued to roll yourself against him languidly, eliciting another deep groan from him. “I had this whole plan before that prick ruined my day. Wanted to take my time with you. Make you fall apart. All about you…a reward for my perfect girl.”

“Save it for after the premiere, cowboy,” you breathed out, grinding yourself down as hard as you could, feeling that slight twitch from beneath his jeans. “You want the truth?”

“Always,”

“I have been embarrassingly soaked since the moment you threw Drew up against that pole,” Rhett’s laugh, his true and hearty laugh, not the one he huffed out under his breath, was your favorite sound to hear, and you never heard it often. It brought a smile to your face, a brighter one than you had worn all day. “No, seriously. It’s kind of insane how hot I found it. Last time I was that soaked without you even touching me was when you punched Luke Tillerson.”

“The time you bailed me out of jail?”

“What can I say?” it was your turn, nipping just barely at his bottom lip now, catching the slight catch in his breathing. “I guess I like a bad boy.”

Rhett kissed you again, harder, more passionately than he had before. The heat was prominent, burning in the pit of your stomach with every touch, with every pass of his lips against yours, with every taste of his tongue dancing just over yours.

Like a well-oiled machine, your bodies understanding one another in a way they’d never understand anyone else, Rhett had you back on your feet before him. His eyes never left you, his fingers gently taking the zipper of your dress and languidly tugging it down your spine, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver up your exposed skin.

You let the dress fall to a heap on the floor, no care in the world for the wrinkles or dirt that could cover it. Rhett’s eyes watched, pupils dilated, raking over every inch of your skin as if he was seeing it for the first time. You tugged the soaked, useless pair of panties from your body, tossing them to the ground with your dress before your bra joined it moments later.

Stepping back up to Rhett, he let his fingers ghost down your sides. Over the edges of your thighs, up the curve of your hips, to the swell of your breasts. He ignored them, though, even as your breath hitched at the contact. Instead, he tugged you down, pressing a kiss straight to the wire flower that still hung right in the middle of your chest.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but somehow, your heart burst with more love for your best friend, the love of your life, than you had ever felt before.

His shirt came off easily next, buttons already done as you helped him slide it off his arms. It joined your dress on the floor, now kicked somewhere under the coffee table. You heard the hitch in his breath again as you dropped to your knees between his open legs, hands expertly unlatching his belt buckle like you had done a thousand times before.

Rhett watched every movement you made. The ease with which you popped open the button of his jeans, slid the zipper down, and then tugged the fabric over his hips. He obliged with the movements, letting you tug them down his legs and discard them elsewhere in the living room. His cock twitched as you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the length with just the thin fabric of his black boxers separating you, before you tugged those off too.

You didn’t linger long, every inch and bone in your body aching and begging for him. Your body missed him, his touch, the feel of him, as if he were a drug and you were an addict.

Rhett’s hands found your hips once more as you crawled back into his lap, straddling him once again. He peppered every inch of your collarbone with kisses, nipping here and there before he’d blow on the spot, the cool air a stark contrast to the sting he left behind. With one hand back in his hair, nails stretching at his scalp, you slotted your lips back to his, before taking every inch of his throbbing length in your hand.

Every inch of his skin was heated, throbbing, and twitching in your hand, and you sighed into the kiss at just the feel of him in your palm. You already knew what came next, the familiar stretch of your walls as they took him in, and you craved every second of it. You needed it.

Without wasting another second, you lined him up against your already soaked core, sliding down every inch of his shaft with a practiced ease.

The stretch was beautiful: welcomed, desired by you. Your walls fluttered with every inch of him that seated itself inside of you, conforming to him like he was the missing piece to your puzzle, because he was. Rhett’s head found itself in the crook of your neck, kiss after kiss placed in the crevice, trailing up over the pulse point in the side of your neck.

Neither of you moved for a moment when he was seated fully inside of you. The only sound within the apartment was the shared heavy breathing between the two of you, and the small whimpers that fell from your lips with every twitch of him inside of you.

“I love you,” his words were whispered into your skin, hands digging into your hips, fingers surely leaving marks upon your skin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back against his temple, cradling him to your body with your hands wound around his shoulders, hands buried within his hair.

Then, you lifted your hips, just enough to leave an inch or so still within you, before you sank back down.

Whatever softness that was left in the room by your whispered declarations of love was gone in seconds.

With a steady rhythm, your hips rose and fell over and over again, hips meeting with a slap of skin that echoed through the quiet of the house. Whimpers fell from your lips with every drag of his cock against your walls, against that spot curled within you that had you clutching to him like a lifeline every time.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel like heaven,” Rhett moaned out, hands finding their way back to your ass as he helped you keep your rhythm. A moan slipped out of your mouth and into his as you brought him into another heated kiss, that coil of heat and euphoria already building in your stomach. That Wyoming drawl had always been heavy during sex, and God, did it do things to you that you couldn’t explain properly. “So perfect, riding me like the cowgirl you are. That prick doesn’t get to see you like this, doesn’t get to feel you like this.”

“No, Rhett, o-only you,” you choked out, almost crying into his mouth as he snapped his hips up into you. Your moan was swallowed by his lips once more as you tugged on his hair, grinding yourself down onto him as you dropped your hips to sit flush with him. “Only you get to–Jesus Christ–only you get to t-touch me. Get to fuck me. Just y-you.”

Your head felt dizzy, every ounce of your body flooded with lust as Rhett’s grip tightened on your hips, his hips now thrusting up in time to meet with yours. The pace of it all increased, every slap of skin sounding off faster and faster throughout the room as Rhett’s name rolled off your tongue like a prayer over and over again, the only thing you could think of.

“That’s right, darlin’, only me. All mine, you’re all–shit–all mine. Going to let me cum in you, huh? Let me fill you up?” the moan that tumbled from your lips was sinful, and Rhett’s laugh ghosted over your mouth, hips still snapping up into yours as every inch of his cock disappeared inside of you with every thrust. “What, you like that? Like the thought of carrying my baby, sweet thing? Want a little one running around our new ranch, our home?”

God, it didn’t matter what that man said, not when his accent was that thick and his voice was dripping with need like that. You’d do absolutely anything he asked of you.

“Oh my god, Rhett, please,” you fully kissed him now, mumbling that simple word–please–over and over into his mouth. “Please, baby, please. Fuck a baby right into me. P-Parade me down that carpet tomorrow with you still in me. Show that stupid asshole that I-I’m yours. Fuck me, fill me up, p-please Rhett.”

You didn’t need to beg a second more.

One of Rhett’s hands found your lower back, pushing you down flush with his chest. His hips shifted, just slightly changing the angle, before he held your hips in place and bucked up into you.

Every wanton cry of his name that tumbled from your lips was uncontrolled, your head clouded with lust and pure need as that coil in your stomach twisted over and over again. Rhett pummelled himself into you, rhythm be damned, hips slamming into yours with a passion that was sure to leave bruises along your skin, was sure to have you stumbling in your heels come morning.

“C-Come with me, darlin’. Let go, I got you,”

That was all it took, another few whispered words from Rhett’s lips into your air for that coil to snap. Your orgasm washed over you in a wave of pleasure, legs shaking from the pure euphoria that coursed through your system. Desperately, your hands clung to Rhett, head buried in his shoulder as you cried his name out over and over again, his hips still snapping into you with that same tenacious speed as before.

Your pleasure never seemed to stop, your body almost sagging against Rhett’s. The wave of pleasure peaked, dipped low, and peaked again with every snap of his hips, the corners of your vision fading to black as every second of pure pleasure gripped your body.

Finally, his rhythm faltered, and with just another slow, deep thrust, Rhett buried himself in you, his own moans washing through the air. His grip never let up, holding your body flush against him.

You felt it–the twitch of his cock within your walls–followed by that swirl of heat that formed within you with every gush of his cum that pooled inside your walls.

The air was heated, bodies slick with sweat, but neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment to want to remove yourselves from each other. The house was plunged back into quiet, leaving just the heavy breathing that labored from both of your chests as you tried to regain yourselves.

Rhett’s fingers danced over your spine, gently up and down, as you managed to dig your head out of his neck. Those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen in love with so many years ago looked up at you with so much love you thought your heart would burst, as you placed the gentlest and shakiest of kisses against his lips. He happily accepted it.

“You didn’t sell this couch with the house, right?” Rhett mumbled against your lips, and you could feel the way they quirked up into a smile. “I don’t think the new owners would appreciate it after…that.”

You laughed, breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath as you dragged the tip of your nose just barely against his.

“No, this one can come with us. Can live in the game room…a fun story for our future child about how they might have been conceived on it,”

“Don’t say shit like that, honey,” Rhett groaned, and you automatically felt his cock twitch inside you once again. “Not while I’m still in you, not unless you plan on making sure you go to bed pregnant tonight.”

All you could do was laugh, stealing another breathless kiss from the lips of the man you adored more than anything.

He broke away, peppering kisses to your jawline, down your neck, before reaching your chest. There, he placed yet another kiss right to the center of that wire flower.

You watched silently, thoughtfully. He pressed one, two, and then three small kisses right to the little design, before he pulled away. But his eyes never left that flower, and as your hand came up to touch it delicately, a thought crossed your head.

“You know, this little piece of wire kind of marks the start of our relationship,”

“Yeah, I guess it does,”

“Well…what if we repurpose it? Maybe, it can mark the next step instead,”

❤︎

The premiere for “For Those We Love” was in full swing. A whole plethora of celebrities were in attendance, walking the red carpet. Those who were simply invited, and so many that you had made friends with over your years in the industry, just here to support you.

Drew Livingston was thriving in the spotlight, waving to reporters and photographers who cheered his name, posing in place on the carpet right in front of the oversized posters of the movie right behind him as the backdrop.

The attention turned from him, though, and he heard your name called out by multiple reporters and photographers. An uproar from the fans, desperate to get a glimpse of you. Drew smirked, glancing down the carpet, waiting for your entrance.

There you were, just stepping out of your limo with Trina just off to the side. A dazzling image in a sky-blue, sparkling gown, the train dragging just barely on the carpet behind you. The neckline plunged down the valley of your breasts, and Drew found himself smiling as he followed the line of that plunge, taking in every inch of skin he could see. He even found himself smirking, noticing the absence of that little wire flower hanging from your neck like it usually was.

That smile dropped when you reached your hand back into the limo.

Rhett Abbott stepped out, clearly misplaced on the red carpet among the sea of Hollywood stars. There was no suit, not even a button-down shirt. No, he was in those same jeans, those same scuffed-up cowboy boots, and a flannel that Drew was sure he could see the dirt stains on from here. Worst of all, that worn leather Stetson sat on top of his head, further cementing himself as the outlier.

It was clear you didn’t care, though, and even more clear that Rhett didn’t seem to care. You smiled at one another, ignoring every single call of the reporters and photographers, too wrapped up in one another to care.

And when you turned, finally catching Drew’s eye, you didn’t hesitate to pluck the cowboy hat from Rhett’s head and place it on your own. Trina fussed in the background, something about your hair, and all Rhett could do was laugh boldly, locking eyes with Drew himself.

All he had to give was a cocky wink, winding his arm around your waist.

It wasn’t fair to say that Drew lost the game, because there hadn’t been one to begin with. No one in your eyes would ever compete with your cowboy, your bull-rider.

It was your eagle-eyed fans, days later, that noted the absence of your necklace from your neck.

It was another few days before one of them finally zoomed in, pointing out the wire wrapped around your ring finger, and the matching wire wrapped around Rhett’s.

#i'm screaming omfg #this was so good tf?#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 20 days ago

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“bob is five apples tall”

He did meth.

#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 25 days ago

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ROBERT REYNOLDS COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU

you know it’s bad when you start missing a fictional character. like please come home, the kids miss you..

#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 1 month ago

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"Boblena" this, "SentryAgent" that, Okay well what about Bob x Me huh? Lil SentrySquid, dare I say?

Anyways

#squidkid reblog #sentrysquid

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 1 month ago

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POV: you got the "I'm gonna draw me and my comfort character" together autism and not the smart autism

Ugh I wanna be his silly lil emo gf so bad you dont understand </3

(Tho its kinda cute... SENTRYSQUID WHEN?????)

#hyperfixation #thunderbolts #is self shipping cool again?#self ship #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 3 months ago

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I can't draw men... BUT HYPERFIXATION BE DAMNED (Marvel hyperfixation has returned in the form of Thunderbolts*)

#squidkid art #hyperfixation #marvel #thunderbolts #bob reynolds #sentry #the void #my shaylaaaa #hes so wife material

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 3 months ago

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Me getting ready to hit refresh on the thunderbolts x reader tag

#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 3 months ago

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Loving You Is Easy

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

“What are these for?” you ask, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You. I, um… figured they’d help you feel better,” Bob says, his voice dipping awkwardly near the end like he already regrets how earnest it sounds. You blink at him, eyes flicking between his face and the pancakes. Then a smile spreads across your face. Cute, and he makes pancakes? You’d struck gold. “Thanks… man!” you say, then pause, realisation dawning mid-sentence. You don’t even know the name of the very attractive guy standing in front of you. You laugh a little, embarrassed. “What’s your name?” “Bob.” “Bob,” You repeat, the smile on your face growing just that little bit more if that was even possible, “I like Bob.” Or You and Bob are indifferent to each other, never seeming to mesh. But when you lose your memory, something new blooms between the two of you.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, no smut, amnesia/memory loss, abandonment issues, pancakes may as well be a main character, hurt and some comfort?, acquaintances to lovers?

A/N: Title from Easy by Mac Ayers. Also, the response to my last Bob fic was absolutely insane, thank you! Hope you enjoy this one, might write a part 2 later

***

Bob doesn’t particularly like you.

It’s not like he hated you or anything; the two of you just didn’t connect.

Conversations were always awkward and stilted, full of long silences and forced small talk. You’d crack a joke, and he’d give you a tight smile. He’d ask a question, and you’d give a clipped answer, unsure of his tone or where you stood.

It wasn’t animosity. It was worse: indifference with a touch of tension. Or maybe it was just that sometimes people don’t mesh, no matter how hard they try. So both of you stopped trying. You’d walk into the gym and see him already there, towel slung over his shoulder, sweat dampening his shirt.

He’d glance up. “No, no, you can stay. I was just leaving.” Even if he wasn’t actually done with his workout.

“Okay…” you’d reply, pretending not to feel the sting.

Or one time, you both ended up in the kitchen at 2 a.m., bleary-eyed and looking for snacks.

You froze. So did he.

“I’ll just—”

“No, it’s fine. I just needed water,” You interrupted.

You both moved around each other like magnets flipped the wrong way, close but never touching, repelling, retreating.

It was easier this way.

One day, you're on a mission and get injured after a strange encounter with an absurdly eccentric villain. He hit you with some mysterious ray that blasted you through a wall and left you unconscious. The whole team was worried about you… including Bob.

Sure, the two of you were awkward, distant, neither of you quite knowing how to be around the other anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that he still cared.

So they brought you back to the Tower and did everything they could. Monitors, scans, and even a few calls to some old contacts who specialised in the weird and unexplainable.

As you lay still, unmoving, they waited. They took shifts, refusing to let you wake up alone, just in case.

Bob stayed longer than anyone. Even when it wasn’t his shift, he lingered outside your room. Because no matter how weird or strained things had become, he wanted you to wake up.

It takes a few days, but you wake up, your eyes blinking rapidly as you adjust to the light. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingers faintly in the air, and your body feels achy, like you’ve been asleep for a century.

And then you see him.

A random, handsome man is slumped over in the chair next to your bed. His head is tilted forward slightly, chin tucked, a book loose in one hand as he dozes.

His lips part slightly in sleep, brows twitching like he’s dreaming. Something about the sight is comforting.

You don’t recognise him.

But something in you wants to.

“Hello?”

You slip out of bed, groaning as you do so. You step close to the man until you’re but a few feet away, studying him with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper stirring inside.

You’re right next to him now, and suddenly your heart races uncontrollably. He’s beautiful — if there’s such a thing as love at first sight, this had to be it. You can’t think about anything else except his sharp jawline and that messy, adorable hair that looks like he just rolled out of bed.

Then, out of nowhere, his eyes snap open. A piercing blue that somehow feels like a shock and a spark all at once. He screams. You scream back, startled, your breath catching in your throat.

You stumble backwards, about to fall, when suddenly he reaches out and grabs your hand. Firm but gentle, steadying you.

“Thanks, guy.”

“You’re welcome,” Bob replies quietly.

“Where am I? What happened? Who are you?” you ask, panic threading through your voice.

Suddenly, a fog rolls over your mind, and you try your hardest to think, but everything’s blank except for your name.

“You don’t… remember me?” Bob asks hesitantly.

“No, are you…”You search for the right words, trying to piece things together. He was in your hospital room, probably stayed overnight, worrying about you. You’re not sure what your type used to be, but if you had one, this had to be it. Then the question slips out, “Are you my boyfriend?”

Bob’s eyes widen as if they might pop out of his head. He stammers, “Oh, no, we’re not… that’s not…” His words trip over themselves, betraying the panic and confusion inside him.

“We’re teammates,” he finally manages to say, and you take a step back, giving him space to breathe.

“We’re on a team? Like what? A swim team?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“No, like a superhero team.”

You blink, confused. “I’m a superhero?”

“An Avenger, to be exact.”

“What the hell is that?”

***

Bob was pale and quiet, still reeling from what had happened to you. The medics were running tests, whispering terms he didn’t fully understand, frowns etched deep into their brows.

Bucky came out of the room a few minutes later, expression unreadable as he approached Bob, pulling him aside.

“What did they say?” Bob asked, his voice hoarse, almost afraid of the answer.

From the look on Bucky’s face, it wasn’t good. “She has amnesia,” he said softly. “Doesn’t remember much of anything right now.”

Bob felt the air leave his lungs. He looked toward the room, the edge of the hospital bed just visible through the cracked door. You, in there, not knowing him.

“Can you take care of her?” Bucky asked gently. “We won’t all be around all the time, and she’s going to need someone who won’t push. Someone who’ll be patient.”

Bob didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

All day, he deliberates on how he can help you out. They were going to let you out of the medbay the next morning, so he wanted to make sure you’d have something comforting waiting for you. After some thought, he lands on pancakes.

Good food had always been his go-to to shake off a bad mood, maybe it would work the same for amnesia.

After helping you into the kitchen, he serves you the pancakes he prepared, sliding the plate toward you a little sheepishly.

“What are these for?” you ask, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“You. I, um… figured they’d help you feel better,” Bob says, his voice dipping awkwardly near the end like he already regrets how earnest it sounds.

You blink at him, eyes flicking between his face and the pancakes. Then a smile spreads across your face. Cute, and he makes pancakes? You’d struck gold.

“Thanks… man!” you say, then pause, realisation dawning mid-sentence. You don’t even know the name of the very attractive guy standing in front of you. You laugh a little, embarrassed. “What’s your name?”

“Bob.”

“Bob,” You repeat, the smile on your face growing just that little bit more if that was even possible, “I like Bob.”

You start digging into the pancakes and let out a squeal of happiness. “This thing is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, well technically one of the only things I remember tasting, but still.”

Bob feels a small rush of happiness that he was able to do something for you, no matter how simple.

“So, Bob, you and I are superheroes, correct?” you say between mouthfuls of delicious pancakes.

Bob hesitates; he didn’t quite have full control over his powers yet, but he was sure he’d get there one day.

“Well, yes…”

“Do you have powers?”

“I can fly, and I’m kinda invincible, and a couple of other things,” he says, looking away sheepishly. He didn’t want to sound like he was bragging.

But then he looks back and sees you beaming at him, the same way you had been since he gave you those pancakes.

“That’s awesome, can you show me?”

He hesitates, “It’s complicated. I can be…dangerous.”

“Oh, I get it, no pressure.”

He's surprised at how quickly you drop it, but appreciates it nonetheless. You take another bite of the pancakes before asking with a little smile, “Do I have powers?”

You were already thinking of the possibilities, maybe you could fly too, or teleport or even turn into a giant frog. The sky’s the limit.

“No…” he says, and the wind is taken right out of your sails. So much for being a frog woman. But seeing the disappointed look on your face, he quickly adds, “You’re a really talented fighter, though, great shot too.”

“Really?”

Bob nods, giving you an encouraging smile. You twiddle your fingers, trying to ask more questions.

“Where are you from?”

“Florida.”

“What’s Florida like?”

He strains to think of what to tell you. Flashes of sticky summer air, thunderstorms rolling in over flat suburban streets, and the hum of cicadas come into his mind.

“It’s… hot.”

You giggle softly, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “Good to know.”

“So let me summarise. You are Bob, Florida is hot, I can shoot stuff.”

“That’s about right.”

He watches you devour the whole plate of pancakes, and he's still having a hard time reconciling the you he knows and the you sitting in front of him. For one, you were actually talking to him and talking to everyone a lot more. Your dynamic with the rest of the team wasn't nearly as bad as yours with Bob's, but now you seemed a lot more open.

It’s a trend that continues as you ask him and the rest of the Avengers questions incessantly the rest of the day, your curiosity never seeming to run out. Every new answer only sparks ten more questions, and somehow, they never seem to mind your enthusiasm.

“You can go through walls?!” You gasp, eyes wide with amazement, and you nearly pass out when you see Ava do it, your hand reaching out as if trying to touch the air she just phased through.

Or when you sat cross-legged on the floor, chin resting on your hands, listening to one of Alexei’s stories with such intent. It was nice seeing you so bubbly, laughing at his exaggerated tales and rolling your eyes when he insisted every mission ended with him saving the day. “There’s no way you took them all down yourself!”

“The Red Guardian defeated them all single-handedly, I tell you,” Alexei says, enjoying your reactions, insisting no one listens the way you do.

But there was a little downside. Now you were more eager to do things, and since you were also restricted to the tower, all that restless energy had to go somewhere.

This morning, it was the kitchen.

The truth is, if he knew that his making pancakes would cause the mess that you unleashed, maybe he would’ve chosen something easier to make.

He walks into the kitchen to see you surrounded by chaos, flour on the counter, batter on the ceiling, and a pan smoking in the sink. It looks like a warzone.

“What is all of this?” he asks, blinking at the sight.

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed, hair a little wild, looking like you’d just gone ten rounds with your own breakfast.

“Pancakes,” you say with exaggerated confidence, like it was obvious.

“If you wanted pancakes, you could’ve asked,” he says, stepping closer with a shake of his head.

He would’ve made them in a heartbeat. He didn’t always know how to fix things, but it made him happy to be useful, even if it was hard to get the energy sometimes.

Bob says, rolling up his sleeves, “I happen to make pretty good pancakes.”

“I know. The ones you made for me the other day were really good.”

“One of the few things I can do,” he mutters, the self-deprecation slipping out like muscle memory, automatic, unfiltered. He's been working on it, but old habits die hard.

You nudge him gently with your elbow. “I’m sure you’re good at a lot of stuff. And if not, at least you’re good-looking.”

Bob blinks at you, looking at you incredulously, like you’d just said the sky was green. His mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to argue, but then doesn’t.

A beat passes, and he gives a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “You really are different,” he says, eyes full of something like wonder.

“But… in a good way.”

“Thanks…” You say. “So, about these pancakes, how about we make them together?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He’s about to start making more batter when he notices you didn’t even bother to put on an apron. He grabs one off the hook and makes his way back over to you.

“But I’m already messy,” you say, looking down at your shirt, now covered in flour.

“Better late than never?” he says with a grin.

Agreeing with him, you duck your head down as he slips the apron over you. Accidentally ruffling your hair in the process, and you let out a small noise of protest.

Then, gently, almost instinctively, he smooths your hair down with both hands, his fingers brushing along your scalp.

It makes you shiver and shake a little against your will. Your body apparently hasn’t gotten the memo on playing it cool around hot men who are weirdly good at domestic affection.

Great. Just great.

He steps closer and delicately wraps the apron ties behind you, moving with such care. You can only imagine what his hands must feel like, strong but soft, you thought.

All you can focus on is the little sensations you do get. The brief, accidental caresses against your back as he tries to tie the apron. His fingers brush your spine, light as a whisper, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Let me do yours,” you say, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart’s trying to break out of your chest.

He turns, and you tie the apron behind him. You can't help but notice how solid he feels, how broad his shoulders are. You feel that same flutter in your stomach you had when you first saw him in the med bay, those damn butterflies that show up uninvited whenever he’s near.

You step back and smooth out the fabric on his chest, trying to act casual.

“How do I look?” he asks playfully.

“Very chefy,” you reply with a grin.

You step aside, and he turns to see what you’ve done.

“First of all, what did you put in here?” He asks, looking at the strange concoction you had made up. It looked like a science experiment gone wrong, the way it was bubbling like it was about to come to life.

“Pancake stuff.”

“Why is it blue?”

“To complement your eyes.”

He blinks, fully expecting to see you grinning or laughing, but you’re dead serious.

As he chuckles and starts remaking the pancake batter, shaking his head with the tiniest smile, he says, “Why didn’t you just ask me to make them for you?”

“I, uh… was trying to return the favour.” You mumble, scratching the back of your head. “You made them for me when I needed them. Thought it’d be nice to do the same.”

He pauses mid-stir, glancing over at you. “That’s really sweet.”

Bob is about to go back to stirring when he sees something.

“Oh, wait a second, you have a…” He says before trailing off, his expression shifting slightly. He reaches out without hesitation, fingers gentle as they brush your cheek. Your breath catches, heart thudding like it’s trying to escape your ribcage, as he plucks an eyelash off your face.

“Make a wish,” he says softly, holding it out to you.

You close your eyes for a moment, your mind blank except for the thought of him. You blow it away, your breath catching just a little as the lash flutters and disappears.

And a tiny part of you wonders if wishes like that ever come true.

“What did you wish for?”

Your eyes scan his, you know exactly what you want, what you need.

“It’s a secret.”

***

“You need to eat more than just pancakes,” John says with a sigh, arms crossed like a disapproving dad.

You shrug from your spot on the couch, hugging your knees and avoiding eye contact. “They’re comforting. And Bob makes them really well.”

“That’s not the point,” he replies, “You need nutrients. Vegetables. Something green.”

You’re finally saved when you see Bob come into the room.

“Bob!”

You scramble out of your seat the moment you spot him, excitement bubbling up as you point at the TV screen. An ad for a local pizza place flashes by, and it somehow sends you into a state of near awe.

“I know what pizza is, but I don’t remember what it tastes like.”

“Can we…?” you begin, unsure how to phrase it without sounding too eager—if you asked, would he eat it with you?

“I’ll order,” he says without hesitation.

“Pizza isn’t good for you either,” John points out, and you roll your eyes at him before throwing your arms around Bob, hugging him tightly.

You throw your arms around him in an instant, hugging him tightly. He stiffens for a second, caught off guard, he still wasn’t used to how openly affectionate you'd become since the memory loss.

“Sorry, got a little excited,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.

Bob just smiles.

“We can eat it on the roof if you want,” he offers. “It’s a really nice view.”

“I’d like that,” you say softly, already picturing it.

When the pizza arrives, the two of you head up to the roof, scarfing it down like you hadn’t eaten in days. Bob watches you in quiet amusement, the city of New York sprawling beneath and around you. Lives moving, horns blaring, people rushing through the streets, but up here, it feels peaceful. Safe.

“This is so good, I could die right now and be happy,” you declare dramatically, a slice still in hand.

You flop back into Bob’s lap without warning, gazing up at him with a lazy, contented smile. He freezes slightly, his leg twitching with nerves. You’re too busy chewing to notice the way his eyes widen, or how he swallows hard and looks away for a second.

He’s glad you can’t hear how loud his heart is pounding.

“Hey,” you say after swallowing a particularly big bite of cheesy goodness.

“Yeah?” Bob answers, turning to you.

You don’t respond right away, just stare at him again, like you’re trying to memorise every detail. There’s something about being near him that makes everything else fade out. Being in love with him, even without remembering it, feels like breathing.

“I wish I could take a picture.”

“Of… the pizza?” Bob asks, confused.

“No. Of you. You just… have one of those faces.”

He blinks. “What does that mean?” There’s a note of genuine concern. Was this your weird, roundabout way of calling him ugly?

“You have a face I wanna… immortalise. Is that super dramatic?” you ask, gesticulating with your slice of pizza. Cheese flopping to the side with every word.

Bob lets out a stunned laugh. He honestly can’t believe half the things you’ve said since the memory loss, but this might be the most unexpected yet. His ears turn a little pink.

You’re both quiet for a beat before you break the silence with a chuckle. “What is it? Have I grown another head?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I just… you’re so different.”

But he doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing.

“How so?” you ask, muffled slightly by the mouthful of pizza you just shoved in. Even that, being messy and unfiltered, was a pretty big shift. Before the accident, you would’ve never let Bob see you like this. You were all sharp edges, always composed around him. Never vulnerable. Never soft.

“You didn’t… we didn’t really get along before you lost your memories,” Bob says carefully, like he’s stepping over landmines.

“Did we hate each other?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It was just… awkward,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Huh…” You glance past him, up at the stars overhead. The sky looks endless. “I know I don’t remember anything, but something in me tells me I liked you more than I let on.”

You turn your gaze back to him, sincere now. “It’s just a feeling,” you say, lightly tapping your chest. “In here.”

There’s a loud bang in the distance that interrupts the two of you, and it jolts you upright from your place on his lap.

You and Bob are instantly alert, eyes scanning the skyline.

“Fireworks?” you ask, squinting toward the horizon as bursts of colour light up the sky.

The distant booms echo softly through the air, and for a second, the world seems to pause. The sky is painted in shimmering golds, purples, and reds. You shuffle closer to the edge, your mouth slightly open in awe, your eyes reflecting the vibrant display.

“This is so beautiful,” you whisper.

“Yeah…” Bob’s voice is quiet as he looks over at you. His eyes don’t linger on the fireworks, instead, they find you. The glow of the explosions dances across your face, illuminating your smile. “It is,” he says, but he’s not talking about the sky.

You don’t notice his stare, too entranced by the spectacle. “I mean, I don’t remember what pretty things I’ve seen before,” you say with a soft laugh, “but there’s no way anything beats this.”

The two of you stay there for a long while, sitting shoulder to shoulder as the last of the fireworks fade. You forgot about the pizza. It goes cold beside you, untouched. But neither of you cares.

You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed despite the crackling fireworks and the hum of New York City below. Somehow, in the middle of all that noise and chaos, you find peace. A kind of quiet you didn’t know you needed. And before long, you’re completely asleep, your breathing soft and even, your body relaxed against his.

Bob glances down at you, frozen for a second, not from discomfort, but from something more tender. He doesn't want to move, not really. But the night is getting cold, and you shouldn't sleep on a rooftop. Gently, he shifts, slipping one arm under your legs and the other around your back. You barely stir as he lifts you.

He walks quietly down the stairs, careful with each step, your head nestled into his chest.

Then—

“What’s this?” comes a voice that makes him jump nearly out of his skin.

Yelena is standing in the hallway outside her room, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, clearly in the middle of getting ready for bed.

“She fell asleep,” Bob says, adjusting his grip on you slightly, trying to look casual. “So I thought I’d help her to bed…”

Yelena arches a brow. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, Bob.”

“She’s had a long day,” he mumbles, eyes avoiding hers as he starts to move past.

“Mm-hm,” she hums, still grinning.

He walks into your room, carefully sidestepping anything that might creak or clatter. The last thing he wants is to wake you. But when he leans down to gently lay you onto the bed, your fingers curl tighter into his shirt like talons.

He freezes. “Seriously?” he mutters under his breath, glancing down at your sleeping form. You’re completely out cold, but your grip says otherwise.

He tries again, delicately prying your fingers away one by one, but you’re like a koala in REM sleep. “Yelena?” he whisper-shouts, trying not to jostle you too much.

After a few seconds, Yelena pokes her head around the corner, toothbrush in hand, completely unbothered. “What?”

“She won’t let go,” he says, exasperated.

Yelena steps into the room, takes one look at the situation, and her face breaks into a slow grin. “Of course she won’t.”

“What do I do?” Bob hisses.

Yelena shrugs. “Get comfortable?”

Eventually, after a few more whispered pleas and another failed attempt to detach you, she sighs and calls for backup. “Ava, we need a second pair of hands.”

It takes a combination of Bob and Yelena pulling while Ava gently works your grip free one finger at a time, to finally get you into bed without dragging Bob in after you.

By the time they’re done, Bob is sweating, slightly rumpled, and staring at you with a look that’s somewhere between exasperation and complete emotional defeat.

“She’s gonna be the end of me,” he sighs.

Ava pats his shoulder. “Not a bad way to go.”

***

Weekend rolls around, Bob had offered to help you go through your stuff, maybe handling familiar items, seeing old things, would help jog something loose in your memory.

You had found an old teddy bear, a digital camera with very few pictures, and throwing knives. You think it’s nice to know you’re very versatile.

You’re in your room, standing on your tiptoes trying to reach another box on the highest shelf. You stretch a little too far, fingers just grazing the edge of it, when suddenly, Bob's reaching for it too.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can—”

Your hands slip under Bob’s, and in a sudden pulse of light and warmth, the room falls away. You’re no longer in the safety of your space. It’s a hazy afternoon, the golden sunlight casting long, sleepy shadows across cracked pavement. The distant sound of a train horn echoes through the air, and there’s a soft breeze drifting in from somewhere, maybe the coast, maybe the open countryside. It smells faintly of dust and old paper.

You’re in a memory.

A small train station. Quiet. Still. You see a little child, no older than four, and a woman beside them. The child is you.

The woman bends down, brushing your hair back with tender fingers. She’s beautiful in the way only memories can be, edges blurred, features softened by time and pain. Her lips move, whispering something you can’t hear. Words drowned out by the roaring silence in your ears.

She kisses your forehead.

Then she straightens, turns, and walks away. Her hand slips from yours like sand, and you’re left standing alone.

“Mom?”

You call out for her, a small voice barely rising above the bustling noise of the trains, but no one comes. Watching the little kid, watching yourself, sit there and cry until your voice is hoarse, tears streaking down chubby cheeks. People pass. Some glance, others don’t. Looks are given, but no one stops to help.

You come to with a sharp gasp, the memory still clutching at your chest like cold fingers. Bob is in front of you, eyes wide, his hand gently on your shoulder as he steadies you.

“Was that my memory?” you ask, your voice faint. You’re still there, in that memory, like part of your mind is dragging its feet back to the present.

“I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t mean to do that,” Bob says, his expression crumpling with guilt.

You blink at him, really seeing the way his hands are trembling slightly, his face pale. He looks visibly shaken. Like he’s taken away your clean slate. And now the only memory that’s surfaced from your past is that of being left behind.

“That’s the first thing I remember,” you whisper. “That’s the only thing.”

Bob’s throat bobs, and he steps back slightly, like he’s not sure if you want him near anymore.

“I—” he tries, but the words falter.

There’s a thick tension in the air as you try to come to terms with what just happened. You’re uncertain, scared, and hurting in a way you don’t fully understand. But through it all, the only anchor you have is Bob.

You reach for him instinctively, like your heart knows the way before your mind catches up, but he flinches. It’s a small movement, but it cuts deep. Not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s terrified for you. Of what he might do, what you might see again, what memories might bleed through just from a touch.

“Please?” you whisper, voice trembling. “I just… I need you.”

You hold your hand out, palm open and steady despite the way your insides shake. Like you’re telling him: It’s okay. I trust you. I’m not afraid of you.

He hesitates for a beat, long enough that you can see the storm behind his eyes. Then slowly, cautiously, he reaches out. His fingers curl around yours, and the moment they connect, you don’t wait. You step into him, into his arms, burying your face against his chest. His arms come around you like instinct, and you finally feel like you belong again. Like his arms are exactly where you’re meant to be.

He thought you wouldn’t want him anymore. Thought whatever pain you’d seen in that memory would make you run.

“I feel safe with you,” you murmur, your breath warm against his neck. It was like you could read his mind.

You sit there until you feel normal again, breathing in sync with Bob as you toy with his shirt and he pets your hair.

“Why were you so scared?” You ask suddenly.

“The last time I used my powers, things got out of control.” Flashes of what happened appear in his mind— the darkness, the destruction.

“I read about it. What happened that day…”

Bob looks down, jaw tight, the guilt still weighing on him.

“Where’d you hear it from?” he asks quietly.

“I’ve been trying to get my memories back,” you say. “So I’ve been reading my diary.”

Bob’s eyebrows lift, surprised. You didn’t seem like the type to keep a diary.

“I write about you quite a bit,” you add, offering a small smile.

His breath catches slightly. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I don’t seem to understand you. Every other entry is me trying to figure you out, analysing the interactions we have. One minute I think you hate me, the next I think you’re just… scared.”

He doesn't answer right away, just looks at you like he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start.

“I think I was scared too,” you admit.

“The way I write about our relationship in my diary seems sad. Like there’s so much I wanted to say to you, but couldn’t for some reason.”

You twiddle with your fingers for a moment before finally saying what's on your mind.

“I think you should read it.”

“Your diary? That's crossing a boundary. When you get your memories back, I don’t think you’ll appreciate it.”

The tone of his voice told you he was resolute in his decision, but you wanted to leave the door open. “If you want to read it, it’s in the top drawer by my bed, in the very back. I think it’d clear a lot of things up between you and her, or I guess me. I don’t know how to address myself.”

He looks at the drawer and thinks of what might be inside your diary, which you wanted him to read so badly. A few moments later, you get up off the floor and offer him your hand again, “Let’s go, I think Yelena’s making dinner.”

***

Waking up to you was disorientating as fuck.

Since you lost your memory, you’d been clinging onto him like a lifeline. Sure, you followed the rest of the Avengers around like a lost duck, trailing behind their conversations and mimicking routines, but with him… with Bob, it was different.

You didn’t just follow him, you stuck to him like glue. Something about him made you feel safe.

“Sorry! I wasn’t watching you while you slept,” you blurt suddenly, catching yourself as he looks over at you from his bed. “I mean—well, technically yes, I was, but not for a long time... just like a minute because I didn’t want to wake you, but—”

Bob doesn’t respond, just blinking at you.

“I really didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just—I came in to see if you wanted to make breakfast together, and you were asleep and you looked so…”

You stop yourself as the words threaten to spill out. If you didn’t stop, there was a solid 90% chance you’d end up professing your undying love for him, and maybe even proposing marriage right there.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he says gently, cutting in before you can spiral any further with embarrassment. “Let’s just go make breakfast.”

You exhale a laugh, relieved, your nerves settling just a bit.

You both go to make breakfast and settle on grilled cheese sandwiches. You watch as he takes a bite and melts, visibly softening. He looks so cute, and all he was doing was chewing. You loved all the little mannerisms no one would notice unless they looked closely. The way his nose would scrunch up when he laughs, how he'd caress his hands to soothe himself, or how he makes eye contact when people are talking so intently to make sure that they know he was listening. You take out your digital camera that you had found in the box in your room, angling it just right.

Click.

When he realises you’re taking a picture, he freezes mid-bite, eyes wide.

“I’m making memories,” you say simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m just eating a sandwich,” he replies, baffled.

You shrug, grinning. “Exactly.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright…”

He tries to look unaffected, but you can see it. His shoulders relax, and his cheeks flush ever so slightly. All of a sudden, you have this unexplainable power over him. He wasn’t used to someone looking at him like that, like they wanted to remember him.

“I’m sure you could find more interesting things to shoot,” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head, smiling softly. “There’s something special about you. You look so real when you think no one is watching. I can’t help but want to capture that.”

“You mean that?” Bob says, traces of doubt leaking in.

“From the bottom of my heart.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and a little surprised. “Still… I think you should explore other things if you want new memories. Let’s go somewhere today.”

You grab his hand gently, excitement bubbling up inside you.

He takes you to a park, but all you can seem to focus on is him, how he moves, how he laughs. So you keep sneaking pictures (not so sneakily), desperate not to forget a single moment.

“There’s a whole park to take pictures of, you know?” he says, grinning as he lowers the camera.

You glance around, finally noticing the trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, the vibrant colours all around. But you quickly look back at him, your smile soft.

“Yeah, but you’re the best part of the view,” you admit quietly, making him blush just a little.

Bob clears his throat, cheeks warming as he tries to shift the attention away from himself.

“Okay, okay…but you should let me turn the favour. Give me your camera, I’ll take some pictures of you,” Bob states, holding out his hand with an easy smile.

“Oh no, that’s fine. I doubt I’m that photogenic,” you say, laughing nervously. “You don’t really want pictures of me.”

Then with a sudden surge of confidence, he says, “I don’t think you realise how beautiful you are.”

Bob doesn't know where it comes from; he wasn’t one to say something so bold like that, but he couldn't stand hearing you downplay yourself.

He says it so softly and genuinely, you swear you heard your heart skip a beat. Your eyes meet in the silent pause, but it isn’t uncomfortable like awkward silences tend to be. It’s warm and cosy like one of Bob’s many sweaters.

Feeling like he was staring for too long, he clears his throat before adding, “Plus, all your memories can’t be pictures of me.”

“R-right,” you stutter as you hand over the camera, your fingers brushing his. The touch is brief, but it leaves a spark, a lingering warmth that settles somewhere deep inside.

“Say cheese.”

“Cheese!” you grin, striking a playful pose.

The rest of the day is spent taking pictures as you wander around New York, basking in the warm sun, laughing at everything you see, carefree and lighthearted.

“We should get ice cream!” you declare suddenly.

He buys it for you without hesitation and snaps a candid photo as you dig into it with delight.

“This is heaven,” you sigh dramatically. “Second only to your pancakes.”

He takes another picture, catching you mid-bite, and you catch him smiling to himself.

You notice and nudge him, “How do I look?”

He looks at the screen. Your eyes are closed in pure bliss, a little smear of vanilla ice cream on your lip, with the brightest smile on your face.

“Perfect,” he says, and for a second, you’re not sure he’s talking about the photo at all.

Eventually, after your long day of wandering around, the two of you get on the subway to head back home. It's packed, shoulder to shoulder, a blur of strangers and noise. You manage to find two seats side by side, squeezed tight among the crowd.

Sitting next to each other, you're pushed up close, legs touching, shoulders brushing with every lurch of the train. The warmth of him seeps through your clothes, and you’re suddenly all too aware of how close you are.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Bob says, leaning in so you can hear him over the rattle of the subway.

“So did I,” you reply, smiling. “You know how to show a girl a good time, Bob Reynolds.”

The train jerks to a stop as it pulls into the next station. The doors slide open with a hiss, and a few people step off, thinning the crowd a little. You glance up and notice an older couple standing nearby, gently swaying with the movement of the train.

You and Bob exchange a look, then both rise at the same time.

“Please, take our seats,” you offer warmly.

They smile gratefully as they settle down, and you both step back to stand nearby, holding the pole for balance. It’s quiet for a moment, and you watch as the elderly man gently brushes something off his wife’s shoulder, then takes her hand in his. The tenderness in his gesture makes your chest ache. It was simple and sweet, watching him dote on her like she was still the only girl in the room.

“You two make such a cute couple,” the old lady says suddenly, looking up at you both with a knowing smile.

You both blink, completely caught off guard.

“Oh, we’re not…” You start to say, but your voice trails off when Bob nudges your arm gently.

“Thank you,” he says to her, still smiling, then glances at you.

“How long have you been together?” The two of you weren’t anticipating any follow-up questions, so you had to think on your feet. It was time to put your non-existent acting skills to the test.

“A yea–” You start, but seeing the look on Bob’s face, you morph it until you say, “Month. A month.”

They both smile, clearly loving young love because old people do that.

“And how did you two meet?” She asks, and you’re starting to see why the Avengers get annoyed with you.

“We met at…” You start looking for Bob to save you, and he does. “Hospital.”

That wasn't where you were heading, but technically it was true. “Yes, I was hit by a… bike.”

Their eyes go wide with shock. “Yes, it was an awful affair. Bike messenger gone rogue.”

“When I heard what happened, I rushed over to see her and I slept by her side,” Bob adds, which was very close to what happened when you got hit with the ray.

“When I woke up and saw him there waiting for me to wake up, I fell in love with him on the spot.”

They both swoon at your story, and when it was said like that, it did sound quite romantic, Bob realised.

“You take care of her,” the old man interjects, his voice gravelly but kind. “Girls like that, with that light in their eyes… they don’t come around often, trust me, I’d know.”

Bob swallows hard, his gaze softening as he looks at you. You had a light—a spark about you—that he’d be crazy to deny. But the two of you were just becoming friends, finally finding solid ground; how could he risk messing that up?

Still, for the old man’s sake and maybe a little for himself, he says quietly but with conviction, “I will.”

Even if he didn’t mean it in the way the old man intended, he would take care of you.

“And keep her away from bikes. They’re trouble,” the man added, and Bob gave him an affirmative, “Of course.”

He’d protect you from bikes too.

You both watch as the couple get off at the next stop, but what they said sticks with you for much longer.

As you walk away, you whisper, “That was… something.”

Bob glances sideways at you, amused. “You didn’t correct them.”

“You didn’t either,” you shoot back, cheeks flushing.

“I didn’t want to.”

The train buckles a little, making you lose balance and stumble, but he catches you instantly, his hand wrapping securely around your waist.

“Trying to sweep me off my feet?” you joke, but if you’re being honest, you’re just trying to hide how breathless you feel. His strong arms are around you, keeping you upright without effort. It’s enough to make your pulse stutter.

He smirks faintly, eyes flicking down to meet yours. “If I were, would it be working?”

You look away, flustered but smiling. “Shut up.”

But you don’t pull away. And neither does he.

“The next stop is ours.”

The two of you break away almost reluctantly. By the time you get back to the tower, you feel like your heart has been racing nonstop.

Once inside, you both go your separate ways, he finds his comfy spot by the window while you wander around, looking for an Avenger to follow around and maybe learn from.

A few hours later, he hears you come back into the room. You’re following behind Bucky, asking questions, and he wonders how, in the two or so weeks you’ve been like this, you hadn’t run out of questions.

“Is it wrong of me to want to know how many pushups you can do?”

Bucky sighs, running out of words to give you. Fortunately, he’s let off the hook when you catch Bob’s eye and bound over to him.

“Meet me on the roof in 10?” you ask, leaning in close.

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, smiling.

You stand looking out at the sunset, waiting for Bob to show up.

A moment later, he appears, turning toward you and noticing you’re still holding the camera.

“I just realised we didn’t get any pictures together, so I figured…”

You stand at the edge of the roof as you sidle up next to each other, sharing the warm glow of the setting sun.

“Ready?” you ask, lifting the camera.

You snap a picture of the two of you. The flash flickers briefly.

The two of you turn toward each other, the space between you suddenly feeling electric and full of possibility.

You glance down, checking the picture on the camera. A small smile tugs at your lips, and Bob watches you with quiet intensity.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend, and he was. He was your friend now. But being this close to you, when you looked like a daydream, it was hard to think of anything else. He liked seeing you happy. He liked being the reason you were happy. So this just felt like the natural step; he wouldn’t be afraid anymore.

“Can I kiss you?” He utters so softly that you might not have heard it if you weren’t so dialled in to him.

“Yes.”

It was the easiest question you’d ever had to answer.

The moment is instantly electric. It was love at first sight for you, like fate had placed him in that chair just for you. His hands gently cup your face, drawing you closer as he leans in to kiss you.

The moment your lips meet, you melt into it.

It’s easy, it’s natural. But it also feels like you’re walking on air.

Your lips melt together as the kiss deepens, slow and sure, like you’ve both been holding your breath for days and finally found air in each other.

Then, suddenly, you feel the ground vanish beneath your feet. It takes a few moments to realise what’s happening. You're both slowly lifting into the air, weightless, like the kiss has broken gravity’s hold.

You pull back, breathless, eyes wide. “We’re flying.”

Bob’s eyes are glowing, soft gold, like sunlight through clouds. And to make it that much more perfect, he’s staring at you like you hung the stars.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “we are.”

***

The world feels light. You feel like you could do anything. Bob kissed you, and somehow, that made everything else fall into place, like that one moment was enough to ground you and lift you all at once. You kissed him so good, he fucking flew! That was something to be proud of.

“Morning!” you greet cheerfully, practically floating into the room.

“Well, aren’t you in a good mood?” John comments, raising an eyebrow at your brightness.

“I am. Quite literally nothing could ruin my day.”

You look over at John’s plate filled with all things healthy and not a pancake in sight, and sneer, “Not even whatever is going on over there.”

“You’re going to die if you keep eating the way you do.”

“At least I’ll die happy.”

And probably in Bob’s arms, but you’d keep that to yourself. You keep flitting around the kitchen, flashes of Bob popping up like you had a gallery in your head dedicated to him.

Then, of course, that’s when Bucky and Yelena appear, both standing stiffly in the doorway. Their faces are unreadable, but it’s clear they’re not here to chat.

“Can we talk to you?” Yelena asks, her voice calm but firm.

Your smile falters. The tone in her voice doesn’t match your mood. You glance between them, a nervous flutter stirring in your chest. They lead you to another room, and your heart pounds with each step. Once you're face to face with them, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Just tell me,” you say, steeling yourself.

Bucky steps forward, voice gentle. “There’s a way you might be able to get your memories back.”

Your heart nearly stops.

“They’ve made a device,” Bucky says carefully, “to counteract the effects of the ray you were hit with.”

You swallow hard, your lungs suddenly tight, like the air has turned to cement.

“Will I remember what happened these past few weeks?” you ask, already bracing for the answer.

“They’re not sure,” Yelena replies gently. “There’s a chance you won’t.”

The rest of the day blurs. You wear that carefully constructed smile while inside, everything feels like it’s unravelling. You laugh at jokes, eat meals, and talk to the team, but every time you look at Bob, it’s like looking at a sunset you might never see again.

Because what if you disappear?

What if the version of you that exists now—the one who fell in love, who made pancakes, who learned to laugh again—vanishes?

What if all of it was just borrowed time?

You’re curled up on the couch later, trying not to let the weight of it crush you, when Yelena finds you. She pauses, studying you quietly.

“You okay?” she asks, snapping you out of your spiral.

You glance up at her with a weak smile. “Yeah,” you lie. “I’m… I’m great.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Yelena presses gently. She sits beside you, eyes focused and unwavering. She sees right through you.

You hesitate, then finally let it slip out like a confession you’d been clutching too tightly.

“What if, when I get my memories back… things are different? What if you guys don’t like me anymore?”

Your voice cracks on the last word. It’s not just about them, and you both know it. It’s about him.

Bob liked you now. The person you’d become. The version of you without all the baggage, the walls, the defence mechanisms. What if the old you came back and pushed him away again?

“We’ll like you regardless,” Yelena says, firm but kind, leaning forward, her words meant to stick. “All of us.” She emphasises that last part, not missing the real question behind your fear. You and Bob haven’t exactly been subtle, floating around the Tower like someone told you the world was ending and you decided to fall in love anyway.

“You think?” you ask quietly, hating how small your voice sounds.

“I know,” she replies without hesitation. “Bob isn’t the type to run. He’s not just here for this version of you. He’s here for you, full stop.”

The thought of him leaving still prickles, sharp and cold. But there’s something warm in her certainty that you cling to. You want to believe her.

“Thank you,” You whisper with a small smile. But there’s still that little piece of doubt lingering in the back of your head.

***

You spend all night worrying, your mind running in circles while your body stays perfectly still, tucked into Bob’s arms. His breath tickles the back of your neck in soft, steady waves. You can feel the quiet thud of his heartbeat against your spine, a rhythm that grounds you more than anything else ever has. This feels like happiness. This feels more right than anything you’ve ever known.

And nights like this… how could you give it up, when you had just begun to have it?

The thought won’t let you go. So, when you’re sure Bob is fully asleep, you carefully slip out of his arms. You sneak out of bed, heart pounding with every silent step, padding your way barefoot down the hall to the lab.

The room is dim and still. On the central table sits the device. The thing that could give you everything back and take everything away.

You stare at it. Your reflection glints back at you in its smooth surface. What would you really be giving up? The person you were before. Aloof, guarded, and apparently barely connected to anyone. No warmth, no laughter, no Bob.

Your fingers close around it. Maybe this was the price of keeping what mattered. Maybe this version of you was the better one. Maybe memories weren’t worth more than love.

You raise the device in the air, prepared to end it all before it can change you back—

Then the door creaks open behind you.

“Hey,” Bob’s voice is low, thick with sleep but steady. He stands in the doorway, his eyes not on the device, but on you. “What are you doing?”

His eyes widen in alarm. “You need to put that down. Without it, you can’t get your memories back.”

You stare at the small device in your hand, the one meant to unlock everything you've forgotten. Everything that’s been haunting your dreams and slipping through your fingers like mist.

You’re so close to throwing it on the ground, your grip tightening as your voice shakes. “Maybe I don’t want them back.”

He goes still. You can see the panic in his face, but it’s laced with something else too. Pain.

You’re biting back the heat behind your eyes, the pressure building in your chest, like red-hot guilt piercing through you. Because it’s not just about your memories, it’s about him. The fear that if you remember everything…you might lose this. Lose him.

“I don’t want to remember a world where you’re not in it,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “What if I get it all back and I’m not me anymore? What if I’m someone who doesn't love you?”

Bob takes a careful step closer, like you’re on the edge of something fragile. “Then I’ll help you fall in love with me all over again,” he says quietly. “No matter how many times it takes.”

What if you don’t love me anymore? What if getting these memories back means you lose me…?” Your voice is shaking now. “What if who I am is just… broken? I mean, my own mother didn’t—”

You stop yourself, the words dying in your throat.

Bob takes a step closer. He feels that pang again, deep and aching, like something in his chest is being pulled taut. Not just because of what you said, but because he’s watching you unravel in front of him, and he never wants you to feel like this, like love is conditional.

“The person I am now… I want to be that person. I don’t want to be the girl you think of as a stranger. I want to be the girl you love.”

Bob’s eyes are soft, full of a sadness he tries to hide, and a depth of affection he doesn’t bother to. “I’m telling this to you because I love you. If you don't get your memories back, you'll always be left wondering who you were.”

Your hands are trembling when you finally set the device down on the table. You throw your arms around him and hug him so tightly he thinks he might break apart, and he doesn't mind it especially if it meant being held like this by you.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, burying his face in your shoulder.

You both freeze for half a second, the realisation hitting you at the same time, how easy it was. How natural.

You pull back just enough to look at him, wide-eyed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“You said it.”

“So did you.”

And then you’re laughing softly into each other, that weight between you gone, just you, him, and the now. “I love you. No matter what version of you I get.”

He kisses you lightly, your lips moving in sync with one another. It’s more than a kiss, it’s a promise that no matter what, you’d fall in love over and over again, no matter how long it took.

You pull him flush against you, the feeling of his shirt beneath your fingers keeping you in the moment. Like you were scared it would slip right through your fingers. You pull back and look at him; his eyes are full of desire, and so are yours.

You jump and he catches you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your lips reconnect as if they were magnets. The kiss is more fast paced, filled with passion as you who each other just how much you need one another. He places you on a counter, his hands roaming your body as the need to explore every part of you becomes too much to bear.

Both of you stop suddenly, your foreheads against each other as you breathe heavily. Your chests rise and fall in sync, hearts thudding loudly in your ears. You wanted to go further, God, you both did, but you knew you had to stop.

“When you get your memory back,” he whispers.

You nod. As much as you both wanted this…you couldn't yet. Not while you weren't whole.

“When I get my memory back.”

***

“So this is it?” you whisper, voice barely steady.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, the sterile smell of the room thick in the air. You can feel your heart pounding harder than it should.

Bob is standing beside you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours, thumb running slow, comforting circles over your knuckles.

You glance up at him, eyes searching. “What if everything changes?”

Bob is the first thing you see when you wake up. You’re sleepy and groggy, and he’s sitting there, book in hand.

“You’re awake,” he says softly. You nod, your eyes slowly adjusting as you take in your surroundings. “Maybe I could make you some pancakes,” Bob says, trying to see if you remembered.

“Why would you do that?” you ask, letting out a confused laugh.

His face falls, hands tightening around the book. “You don’t… remember?”

“No, sorry. Did I miss something?” you say, blinking at him, genuinely puzzled.

“I’m sorry, I… I was just—” He stammers, trying to backtrack. “It’s nothing.”

“I should let you rest,” he adds, sensing your discomfort.

Bob gets up and walks to the door, and he’s about to leave when you stop him, your voice softer now.

“Thanks for being here when I woke up. It’s very kind of you.”

He musters a small, genuine smile and replies, “Anytime.”

In the days that passed, it was hard mourning someone who’s still alive and technically shouldn’t have existed. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be the end. The person he fell in love with was gone, but maybe he could fall in love again, with the person you are now.

One morning, you’re sitting by the table, scrolling through your phone, when Bob quietly walks in and slides a plate of pancakes to you.

“What are these for?” you ask.

“Just felt like it,” he replies, watching your eyes light up when you bite into them despite your best efforts to hide it.

You’ll fall for each other again; it’s only a matter of time.

Masterlist

#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 3 months ago

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#squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 3 months ago

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Autism is so weird bcuz tell me why I haven't been able to write for MONTHS cuz I've been too hyperfixated on Saw to literally do anything??

ALSO HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!! I'M BACK! I had a few things happen(I got a new job, mental health crashed, just silly things).BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS CUZ I'M BACK (kinda)

I'm (not quite ready) to write again, but I'm ready to yap!!! (Feel free to yap w me in the requests box thingie [I'm more likely to awnser if you ask something Saw related XD])

WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

~☆SquidKid☆

(Peep the Saw DVD collection)

#hyperfixation #fanfic #fanfiction #saw #sawtism #saw franchise #horror #sawposting #squidkid reblog #adam stanheight x reader #viktor x reader #dwahia #john bender x reader #leo valdez x reader

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 6 months ago

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Aaaaa I love this sm 😭🫶 tyyyyyy!

❤️

1. I have the entire Finding Nemo script memorized.

2. I listen to over 4000 songs, 100 genres, and almost 80 decades in music.

3. I one time got semi-viral on TikTok for a Mr. Mackey impression from South Park

(I didn't know what to put 😭😭😭 Hopefully, this works)

join my valentines event!

Hm okay I would ship you with dofp Logan with the gray streak.

This Logan is more aged and seasoned and also more relaxed. His world is saved and everyone he loves is back and things aren't fucking dying lmao.

I think you meet at the mansion. You're a new face that Logan doesn't recognize. I'm thinking art teacher or maybe music. It's wild to him that things aren't falling apart and that the students are able to enjoy classes like art and music. He struggles with the memories of his past and the new life he's living and you notice it quickly.

You and Logan were bordering friends and something more before his mind caught up with the new timeline. Now you see he's acting different. He remembers bits and pieces but a part of him has to learn who you are again. It hurts a little bit but at the same time you get to watch Logan fall in love with you.

He hears the wide variety of music that comes from your classroom and is surprised every time. I mean he's pretty much lived through it all each new song brings him back to a different time in his life and he'd tell you about it. What it was like, what he even remembers.

Showing him finding nemo though, and telling him that he's like Dory which he does NOT appreciate but then its more of a, you are missing a chunk of your life but its okay because you have me and the mansion and its a little sweeter. He does not enjoy being compared to an, in his words, annoying fish.

Also imagine introducing him to tik tok akljdf;. Do you know how funny that would be??? Forcing him into tik tok trends and seeing him just appear in the background of Rogue and Jubilee's tiktoks and the comments going wild about how hot he is LOL

#logan howlett #valentines day event #squidkid reblog

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 6 months ago

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This isn't a fic post... but I just watched No Way Home for the first time [I had to buy it]

....

...

This movie fucked me up so bad omfg

#hyperfixation #spiderman #im sobbing so hard #no way home #spiderman no way home #marvel #peter parker #still rated it 10/10 tho

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 6 months ago

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make you mine

dbf!cowboy!sevika x fem!reader

- summary: you've always had a longing for your dad's best friend ever since she moved into the ranch next door. however, you've had to keep your feelings to yourself out of fear of rejection and for the sake of their friendship. that is...until one night changes everything.

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, wild west au, forbidden love trope, age gap (reader is 21, sevika is 40), old town/ranch setting, sevika has her prosthetic arm, sevika only has a soft spot for reader, drinking & gambling, some harassment & violence (bar fight), gentledom!sev, lots of eye contact, sevika becomes very possessive, reader is shy at first but gets bold later on, use of pet names (sweetheart, darlin' etc), fingering & oral (both giving/receiving bc reader and sevika are a pair of munches), heavy scissoring, a little bit of sub!sev if you squint, and a little bit of aftercare in the end if you squint too

so i wrote this fic to try to cure the massive sevika brainrot that i’ve been having lately but it didn’t work…i still need her

You didn’t mean that much to her…or at least that’s what you had thought.

The feelings were innocent at first. It would begin through a small bit of contact, whether she’d accidentally brush her hand over yours or place her hand on the small of your back when mounting you on one of her horses, you’d end up getting chills down your spine and a small spark would start igniting in your chest. As time passed, it became more prominent. Every time she was near you, that same spark only grew more and more, followed by a tension that lingered between the two of you. You weren’t sure if it was just in your head, and you couldn’t tell if she felt the same way…until now.

It was the night before, and the three of you sat at the dining table having a steak dinner that you cooked up. Earlier that day, Sevika had accompanied you to the meat market to get those steaks. She insisted on paying for them and had already handed the cash to the butcher before you could even pull out your wallet. So to return the favor, you decided to invite her over for dinner.

You’re seated at the table, and before you start eating, you first watch as Sevika and your father take the first bites of their plate, hoping that the steaks turned out okay. “How is it?” you ask them. “I tried out a new seasoning this time.”

“It’s delicious, kiddo,” your dad had said, digging into his plate for another bite. “You always know how to make a mean ribeye.”

Sevika sat across from you, reaching out for her utensils. When she had finally taken a bite, a soft groan came from her as she savored the flavor of it. “Damn, this is good,” she added to your dad’s comment. “I might have to start coming over for dinner more often if you’re gonna be cookin’.”

You giggle at Sevika’s comment and look up at her, watching her go in for the next bite. “M’glad you like it, Sev.” Once you’re satisfied knowing that the food turned out well, you adjust yourself in your chair to start eating. As you do so, your boot ends up lightly brushing over Sevika’s leg, and, in an instant, you bring your feet back to yourself. You hope she didn’t notice your accidental contact, but it was clear that she did.

Sevika froze for a moment when she felt your boot brush up against her leg, and she couldn’t help but blush when you had done so. You hadn’t known just yet, but Sevika would also get that same spark inside her every time you were in her presence. She had never felt this way with anyone to begin with, especially with his best friend’s daughter out of all people. On the contrary, she’s mostly seen you like any other girl in her 20s, too young and naive to take seriously. Sure, you were headstrong, but in her eyes, it only added to your recklessness. That was until one particular night last year, when her feelings took a turn she never expected.

It was the night of your 21st birthday, and for a milestone birthday like that, there was no better way to celebrate than a night of drinks and dancing at the dance hall with your friends. You were too drunk to remember most of the events that night, but Sevika sure didn’t forget.

The night had blurred into a dizzying mess of laughter and alcohol, and by the time you found yourself outside the dance hall, your head was spinning. You fumbled for your phone, dialing Sevika’s number with shaky hands.

Sevika was fast asleep when her phone rang, cutting through the peacefulness the night was bringing her. She let out a groan when she recognized your number. Groggily, she answered, her voice thick with sleep. “What now?”

“Sevika,” you slurred into the phone. ”I need you to come get me…I’m too drunk…please.”

With a sigh, Sevika got off of her bed and threw on her boots. “Fine, just…hang in there, I’ll be right out.” She wasn’t pleased to be pulled out of bed this late, but she couldn’t be one to leave you stranded out on the streets either.

When she arrived, she didn’t waste any time. With a swift motion, Sevika helped you onto the back of her horse, her grip firm as you clung to her. “Jesus, kid, you’re a mess,” she muttered, her tone laced with impatience.

You leaned against her, your head spinning. “You’re so pretty, Sev,” you mumbled, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Like my knight in shining armor.”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied dryly, but there was a faint tug at the corner of her lips as she kept you steady on her horse.

By the time she got you home, you stumbled to the ground upon entrance. Your giggles were uncontrollable, and you were barely able to get back on your feet. Sevika helped you get back up, but her patience was quickly wearing thin. “Keep it down,” she warned, her voice low. “Or else your dad’s gonna wake up.”

You continued to giggle, still not fully aware of what was going on, and she picked you up and guided you to your bedroom. With a sigh, Sevika helped you sit on the edge of the bed, but before she could leave, you suddenly grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and kissed her.

The kiss caught Sevika by surprise. She froze for a moment, then pulled back, her expression unreadable. She stared at you for a moment before gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Go to sleep,” she said, her voice quieter than usual.

You lazily kick your boots off and lie down in your bed. You snuggle into your blankets, and your eyelids start to grow heavy. “Sevika…stay with me...” you murmured, the tipsiness sinking in as you instantly drifted off to sleep right after.

Sevika hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on your sleeping state before she sighed, her usual coldness returning. “Just sleep it off, kid.” she mutters, her voice soft but firm. She left your room, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you to fall into a peaceful slumber.

As Sevika arrived back home, she couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar ache in her chest. The events of the night replayed in her mind—your drunken giggles, the kiss, the way you looked in her eyes with trust and affection. She set her stetson hat down on the table and let out a long sigh, realizing that no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions together, something had shifted. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

She was starting to catch feelings for you.

Ever since that night, that spark continued to linger inside Sevika when you were around. However, for the sake of your dad, she had to keep herself together and brush it off.

You continue to eat your meal as normal, but you could still feel Sevika’s gaze when you weren’t looking. But every time you look up to see her, she is just concentrated on her plate. But Sevika couldn’t handle keeping her eyes on her plate any longer.

Sevika called out your name, and you looked up at her, fork still in your mouth. She had her elbow propped up on the table, her human hand holding her fork, which was pointing down at her plate as she spoke. “You doin’ anything tomorrow, by any chance?”

You slowly take your fork out of her mouth and set it down on your plate as you finish chewing. “M’not doing much tomorrow, just my usual chores in the morning, why do you ask?” you reply.

“Well…” Sevika began, trailing off for a bit before continuing. “Was wonderin’ by any chance if you’d like to get drinks tomorrow night? You and me?”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off guard by the unexpected invitation. Knowing Sevika, she wasn’t usually the type to hang out with you, especially for something as casual as getting drinks together. Your gaze shifts to your dad, who sits on your right. “As long as it’s okay with my dad, I could go,” you reply.

Sevika turned to look at your dad who was on her left, patiently waiting for his reply. You couldn’t tell, but deep down, Sevika was extremely nervous, not sure of how your father would react to the idea of her asking you out like this. He didn’t think anything of it though, and let it slide. Your dad turned to the two of you. “Well, I guess it won’t be much harm in you two goin’ out for a drink…” He replies.

You smile at your dad’s approval to let you go, leaning in to hug him. “Thanks, Dad,” you tell him, sitting yourself back down. Your dad nods and looks over at Sevika. “I’ll be workin’ late tomorrow though, won’t be back home til’ the early morning. Just make sure to bring her back home safe, all right?” Sevika nods in acknowledgment. “Of course, I’ll make sure she’s back home safe.” She says, giving your dad a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

Once the three of you finished dinner, you gathered up the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, with a bit of Sevika’s help since she offered. Eventually, Sevika had to head back to her place. Even though she lived close by, it still felt like she was miles away from you.

When Sevika got home, she quickly changed and slipped herself into bed. She tried her best to conceal things, but deep down, she couldn’t get the thought of you off her mind. It frightened her just as much to know that you could end up with someone else who wouldn’t treat you and care for you the same way she did. She wanted you all to herself. She wanted to claim you.

She wanted to make you hers.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──.°˖⋆ ℧ 𓃗 .°˖⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next day passed like an eternity, but before you knew it, the late afternoon had arrived, and your evening was just about to begin.

You sat in your room by your dresser, finishing the touches on your makeup. You decided to dress in light colors for the night, wearing a lavender halter paired with a white skirt and boots, topped off with a white stetson on your head.

You hear a familiar knock at the door, instantly knowing that it was Sevika. It didn’t take her long to wait, within the first minute you were already downstairs and answering the door. You greet her with a smile, admiring the outfit she had picked out for the night. She was beautifully in contrast with you, wearing a deep purple button-up that complimented her olive skin and gray eyes, accompanied by black jeans and boots and a black stetson framing her short hair.

Sevika couldn’t help but take in how beautiful you looked in your outfit, her eyes scanning you from head to toe as she drank your figure in. “You look stunning,” she said, a small smirk growing on her face.

You blush at Sevika’s comment, shyly looking down at your boots before looking back up at her. “Thanks, Sev, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You tell her with a giggle as you exit your house and close the door shut, and Sevika can’t help but smile back at you once you tell her how good she looks. She holds out her prosthetic arm and places it on the small of your back, guiding behind you as you two walk out of the porch together. You look up ahead in your tracks to see her horse awaiting your arrival, and Sevika whistles behind you to get his attention. Her black stallion trots over to the two of you, and Sevika first assists with mounting you onto him before mounting herself. You scooch closer to her and wrap your arms around her to secure yourself. Your hands clutch her abdomen tightly, and you could’ve sworn you felt her stomach flip when you did so. Once Sevika made sure you were secured onto her, she lightly tapped her heel on the horse’s side, signaling it to move forward.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to the bar, about fifteen minutes or so. Once you arrived, you let go of Sevika so she could dismount from her horse and tie him to the nearest post, securing her spot before coming over and helping you get off of him, her hands never leaving your waist until you safely stepped onto the ground. Sevika felt her heart beat faster when she did so. Just the feeling of your waist under her hands was enough to drive her crazy. As for you, you couldn’t help but get a fuzzy feeling in your body when she grabbed your waist, leading you to gently rub your thighs under your skirt to diminish that feeling somehow.

Sevika walked through the batwing doors of the bar with you following behind her, the heavy scent of whiskey and tobacco hanging in the air once you stepped foot. The low murmurs of conversing patrons mix with the clink of glasses and the shuffling of boots on the wooden floor. The piano plays a slow and steady tune, making the atmosphere of the bar feel timeless.

Sevika skims around the bar when suddenly a voice calls her over. “Hey Sev! Care for a round?” the man says with a challenging smirk, holding a deck of cards in his hand. Sevika smirks back at him, taking up the offer. “Oh, you’re on,” she tells him. She was about to head to her poker group but stopped for a moment and turned to you. “Mind grabbing us drinks? You can put it on my tab, my treat.” She tells you with a wink.

You nod with a smile as you signal Sevika off to go to the poker table. The table of men cheered for her when she arrived, patting her heavily on her shoulders before they started the game. Once she’s sat, you head to the bar to order the drinks. The bartender hands you the beers within a few minutes, and you go to the poker table to sit down next to Sevika. She keeps you close by your side as she plays the game with her group.

The both of you go through the first round of drinks pretty fast. Once both of your glasses are empty, you tap Sevika’s shoulder to get her attention. “I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” I ask her, pointing at her empty glass. Sevika looks over at you and nods. “Yes, please,” she says, handing you her empty glass. Her eyes move over to her deck of cards and back up to her group. “In fact…” she trails off, sliding her winning cards to the middle of the table. “Get us all another round, on me!” she says as she brings her chips over to her side of the table. The men cheer for her, and a few of them groan as they have lost the game. You smile at her excitement over her win. “All right then, I’ll be back,” you say, getting up from the table and making your way back over to the bar to order the next round. Sevika’s gaze didn’t leave you once you did, and she kept herself close enough to where you were in a line of her sight the whole time.

You look over at Sevika and flash her a smile before turning back, awaiting the next round of drinks. The peace didn’t last long, though, when suddenly a man enters the bar and makes the decision to sit uncomfortably close to you. “Hey there, little lady,” he calls out to you. “You here by yourself?” An uneasy feeling washes over Sevika when she saw the man approach you, not liking the fact that he was invading your space like that. She makes sure to keep an eye on him from the table, her eyes focused on you as she continues playing her game.

You scoot away from him, signaling that you’re not interested in him. “No, I’m with someone.” You tell him, cocking your head to the side and pointing over at Sevika. The man barely glances back at her and rolls his eyes, not even seeing her as a possible threat. “Well, you’re by yourself over here, aren’t ya? Think you could use some company…” The man then places a hand on your bare knee, and it leads you to pull your knee away from him. “No, thank you, m’not interested.” you reply.

Sevika’s eyes stay glued to the man and his movements. She knew you could take care of yourself, but the thought of you being close to such a sleazy guy like him made her blood boil. It took everything within her to compose herself, keeping her cool as she remained seated at the poker table.

Things begin to heat up a bit, and your voice starts to rise. “I already told you, sir, m’not interested.” You get off the bar stool, and he does the same. He corners you against the wall, and a sick feeling starts to grow in your stomach. “C’mon, little lady, I can show you a real good time.” He continues to push through you, and before you can say no, his hand trails up your skirt and squeezes your ass, which causes you to raise your hand and slap him across the face in an instant motion. “I fucking said no, asshole!” you shout back at him.

That was the last straw for Sevika. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her entire body shook from rage and anger from what she had just seen. Instantly, she rises from her seat and slams her fist down onto the table, causing the chips and cards to shake from the force. She makes her way over to the both of you, shoving the guy onto the ground and standing right in front of him, the scene causing the bar to go silent. “Didn’t your dad ever teach you how to respect a lady, boy?” she said sternly, narrowing her eyes down at him. “She already told you, she’s not interested.”

The man glares menacingly up at Sevika as he spat on the ground. “You want something, old hag?” He said back, his tone laced with venom as he looked her up and down. Sevika huffs out of her nose and clenches her metal fist in anger, feeling her rage boil even more at his comment. She takes another step forward at him. “Leave, or I will make you.” She growled out, her stance growing into a fighting position. You stay silent as you keep yourself behind Sevika. The guy gets up from the ground and faces her. “Y’know what?” he says. “It’s fine…didn’t even care about bringing that little bitch home with me anyways.” he spits back referring to you.

Sevika couldn’t stand hearing him insulting you like this, but she needed a good enough excuse to deck him in the face, and she wasn’t gonna take up any more of the disrespect that man was giving you. Without a second thought, her fist flies into his face, knocking some of his teeth clean out as he stumbled back onto the ground. She grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and brings him up to her level. “Fucking mess with my girl again, and you might not make the next hit I give you.” she growls at him before letting him go and shoving him back to the ground.

You look at Sevika in pure shock at what she has done. Now, you weren’t in shock about what she had done to the man; he deserved it. You were more in shock about what she had called you.

“My girl.”

“My girl, my girl, my girl…” Her words repeat in your head like a broken record player. Never in your life, never in the years that you had developed these growing feelings for Sevika, had you expected those words to come out of her mouth.

You snap out of your thoughts as you see the man getting up off the ground and admitting defeat. He scurries out of the bar without a second thought, leaving Sevika standing there as she huffed and caught her breath. She kept her eyes on the doors for a moment in case he tried to come back before finally calming down. She let out a deep breath and turned back to look at you. She had this somewhat fearful look in her eyes, and you knew what it was. She feared that you might have heard the words that slipped from her mouth at that moment. You needed to tell her about it, the curiosity was starting to consume you, but now was not the time or place to talk about that.

You quickly shook your head, pretending to be unaware of it for now. You look around the bar to see that everyone is still silent, still staring at the two of you. “Show’s over!” you exclaim, and everyone goes back to their usual business. “Sevika…are you okay?” you say, approaching closer to her as you check both her human and metal fists for any bruises or dents.

Sevika could feel her heart flutter when you took her hands into yours, goosebumps erupting on her arm when your soft palms touched her calloused human hand. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she replied, her voice going soft as she looked down at your hands inspecting her own. “I’m more worried about you, though. You ain’t hurt or nothin’?” She asked, looking down at you with concern. You shake your head in response, setting her hands back down at her sides. “No, he just grabbed me, that’s all,” you tell her. She lets out a breath of relief at your response, knowing that you weren’t hurt. After making sure the guy wasn’t around anymore, the two of you decided that it was time to call it a night and head back home instead. “C’mon, let’s start heading out.” She said, putting a hand on your waist as you both exited the bar.

The ride back was oddly peaceful, to say the least. There wasn’t much to be said at the moment since Sevika had saved you, and you both enjoyed the quiet more than usual as you both took the scenery of the sun setting around you, too. Your hands stayed secure on Sevika’s waist as she rode her horse, and your head rested on her back. You felt so safe around her that your body felt the need to briefly go to rest at that moment.

The horse came to a stop once you both got back to your father’s ranch, and Sevika noticed that your arms weren’t moving and the grip you had on her waist was more relaxed. She slowly twists herself around to see that you had dozed off behind her during the ride back home. She gently shakes your shoulder to wake you back up, and her insides melt as you slowly regain consciousness. “Hey there, we’re back at your place now,” she says to you softly. “Let me help you get down, darlin’.”

Sevika moves her hands down from her horse’s reins to your waist, gently lifting you off of the horse before letting you back down onto the ground. She dismounts herself right after, and you gently rub your eyes to fully wake yourself up before looking back up at her. “Thank you again for doing that at the bar, Sev…I really appreciate it.” It made her happy to know that you appreciated her help, but in her mind, it felt like the natural thing to do. “Of course, sweetheart. I couldn’t stand seein’ you be bothered by some creep like him.” She said with a soft grin, looking down at you. “Lemme walk you inside, yeah? S’getting pretty late now.”

You follow by her side as the two of you approach the front door and unlock it, letting yourself inside before Sevika lets herself in behind you and closes the door shut. The house was the same as you had left it, meaning that your dad still wasn’t home yet. This gave you the perfect time to ask Sevika about what she said at the bar. Part of you didn’t want to bring it up, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to know what she meant. “Hey Sev,” you turn around to face her. “Can I ask you something?”

Sevika stood at the doorway for a moment before turning around to face you. “Of course, what is it?” she asked.

You shyly look down at the ground, fumbling with your hands as you try to muster up the courage to ask her this. “At the bar…after you beat up that guy, you…you said something, or, well, called me something to be exact.” You paused for a moment before continuing. “You…you called me your girl…What did you mean by that?”

As soon as you had brought up what she said at the bar, Sevika could start to feel her heart beat out of her chest. She hadn’t intended to say it in the first place; it just slipped in the moment. However, she got caught by you, and she knew she had to explain herself before any misunderstanding occurred. “I…” She started, not knowing what to say. Sevika gulped and brought her gaze to the ground, trying to compose some sort of reply.

It was clear that you had caught her in a vulnerable position by asking her this. You’ve never seen her get like this at all before, but you didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable, so you try to shake off the situation. “It’s okay, Sevika, you don’t have to talk ‘bout it if you don’t want to.” You tell her calmly. “‘Was just curious, that’s all.”

Sevika felt her heart drop for a moment when you told her this. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to say it, she just didn’t know how to tell you. She feared that this could go downhill. But she had to do it. This was her chance; this was the opportunity for her to be honest with you, and she couldn’t keep holding it off anymore. “No, no, I-I can explain,” She insists, reaching her human hand out to take one of yours. You gently grab her hand and bring her over to the couch so she can feel comfortable talking to you. “S’okay Sev, what is it?” you ask her as you sit down right next to her. She didn’t know it, but your heart was beating just as fast as hers was. You were praying to yourself that she’d feel the same way that you did.

Sevika took a deep breath as she prepared herself to share what was going through her mind. She mentally prepared herself for any reaction you had given her, whether it could be anger, disgust, or just any sign of rejection. But she was also hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d feel the same way that she did.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, sweetheart, I can’t deny it anymore…” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “Somewhere along the way, I started growin’ some feelings for you in a way I didn’t expect…I…I started falling in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at Sevika’s confession, and you could hear your heart beating faster once she let those words out. However, you give her a look of uncertainty; part of you is still finding it hard to fully believe it. “Sevika…do you really mean that?” you ask her, to which Sevika slowly nods in confirmation and gently squeezes your hand in reassurance. “I mean it, sweetheart, every single damn word.” She said, locking her eyes with yours.

There’s another pause before you gather the courage to ask. “When did you realize it?”

Sevika’s gaze softened, her thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “That night…your birthday,” she admitted quietly. “When I brought you home, and you kissed me, it was like somethin’ clicked. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you after that.” She paused, her voice growing a bit more vulnerable. “But I think, deep down, I’ve been feelin’ it for a long time before then—I just didn’t have the strength to admit it.”

Sevika’s words made your heart skip a beat, but another detail had left you flustered. “Wait…” you stammered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I kissed you?” You stared at her, trying to recollect your memory from that night.

Sevika chuckled softly, her lips curving into a small smile. “You don’t remember?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Guess you were really wasted that night. But yeah, you kissed me—caught me off guard, too.”

Your hands trembled inside hers, the weight of her confession and your embarrassment pushing down on you. You shyly lowered your gaze to the ground. “Sevika, I…I didn’t think you felt the same way,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve caught feelings for so long, but I was afraid to say anything, ‘cause I thought you’d push me away—“

Sevika didn’t want to hear the rest of it. Instead, she places her human hand behind your neck and pulls you in for a tender kiss, cutting you off mid-sentence. You let out a gasp as Sevika locks your lips with hers, and you melt into it instantly. Sevika pulls away for a moment, still keeping her lips near yours. “I could never push away a girl like you, sweetheart,” she whispers and brings you back in for another kiss, your heart fluttering with pure joy at her words. The two of you stay like this for a moment, relishing the feeling of Sevika’s soft lips against yours. However, the mere thought of your father finding out about you and Sevika—his lifelong best friend—starts to hit you like a rock, and you slowly pull away from her. “But Sev, what ‘bout my dad?” You ask her. “You know how protective he is of me…he’ll kill you if he finds out…”

It was hard for Sevika not to feel her heart sink as you brought up the topic of your father finding out. The two of you know that it’ll happen at some point, no matter how hard you both try to be discreet about it. It gave her an uneasy feeling, but it wasn’t something that she wanted to be thinking about right now, and frankly, neither did you.

“I know, sweetheart, but don’t worry about that now,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes. M’not going anywhere, okay? I’m willing to take that risk for whatever happens, as long as I get to make you mine.”

Her words eased the knot that formed in your chest, even if it was just for a little. For now, that reassurance was enough for you. You lean into her and give her another kiss. “Least for now,’ you mutter out to her. “I don’t want him knowin’ yet.” Despite that you had to get serious about keeping your dad from finding out, there was just something about keeping Sevika a secret that you found so…thrilling.

Sevika slowly deepened the kiss, her hands finding themselves on your waist as she shifted you over and straddled you onto her lap, pressing herself closer to you as she took in as much of your scent as she could. She slowly ran her tongue across your lower lip, asking for permission. Your lips part open, and her tongue enters your mouth. Her hands begin to roam up and down your body, and they make a brief stop at your hips. She gently squeezes them to bring you closer to her, causing you to gasp into her mouth. The two of you could feel each other growing needy with each passing second, and you were about to be the one who was bound to submit first.

You pull your mouth away from Sevika for a moment, just to catch a breath and look into her eyes. You brace yourself for what you’re about to ask her next. “My…my dad’s still not home yet...we can take things upstairs if you’d like…” You tell her, playing with the collar of her shirt.

There was no further explanation needed after that. Sevika wanted you, and you wanted her— there was no need to deny it or hide from it anymore. Sevika stands up from the couch, and you wrap your legs around her waist, not wanting to get yourself off of her as the both of you head upstairs to your bedroom.

Sevika enters your bedroom and slowly sets you down on your bed, looking down at you with a look of desire in her eyes as you sink into the bedsheets. Your stetson falls off your head once it hits the bed, so you toss it out of the way as Sevika gets your boots off before doing the same with hers. She’s quick to get on top of you, her broad figure towering over your frame, and the brim of her stetson brushes over your forehead. As you did with yours, you take it off of her head and toss it aside, giving you the space you need to lean into her for another kiss. Once her lips reunited with yours, Sevika gently slipped her thigh between yours while also taking your left leg into her human hand and pulling it up on her hip as she deepened the kiss. Her knee begins to push up against your clothed cunt, and you let out a soft moan, causing you to part your mouth away from hers and tilt your head back against the pillow. This gave Sevika the chance to lean in and let her lips fall onto your neck, savoring every sound that elicited from your mouth as she left a trail of wet marks on your skin.

The feeling of Sevika’s soft, warm lips pressing against your neck was a feeling that your body couldn’t resist. You begin to squirm under her, and you try to rub your thighs against each other for some relief. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sevika. She quickly realized what you were trying to do. She let her body lean against yours and brought her mouth up to your ear. “Do you need somethin’, sweetheart?” She purrs, to which you nod quickly in response.

“Words, baby.” she says sternly.

You take a deep breath as you try to get the words out of your mouth. “Yes, Sev…I need you…” You whisper back to her.

Sevika let out a soft hum of approval when you said what she needed to hear, and at that point, she wasn’t going to hold herself back anymore. “Good girl,” she mutters, pushing her thigh harder against you once more. You let out another gasp, praying that Sevika didn’t feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay?” You start to feel drunk from her touch, trying to muster up another response. “I-I need you to make me feel good, Sev…need you to make me yours…”

With that, Sevika brings her human hand down and her fingers gently trace along the outer edge of your underwear before letting them go south, smirking as she feels the thin fabric start to get wet. Her fingers gently push your panties to the side and begin to give your pussy the attention it’s been needing. “Goodness, you’re so wet, darlin’…is this all for me?” she asks, looking up at you. You nod quickly in response. “Yes, Sev…s’all for you…” You get desperate for more contact, so as Sevika’s fingertips continue to run through your folds, you reach your hand under your shirt and trail it up to your breast, gently squeezing it.

Sevika’s eyes darkened at the sight of you. It was taking everything in her to not just take you already. The soft gasps, the pretty noises, the sight of your body, the wet sensation of your needy pussy…it was all so perfect. Sevika began to slowly slide one of her thick fingers into your pussy, and you let out a groan as you grind yourself against her, feeling so content with having a part of her inside of you. However, it didn’t feel like enough just yet. You craved more of her, so you decided to pull an unthinkable move.

Instead of letting Sevika continue, you bring your other hand down to hers and pull her finger out of you. You then bring it up to her lips so she can get a taste of your arousal. You watch as her lips slowly part themselves open, and she sucks on her finger, the taste of you sending a shiver down her spine. Sevika let out a groan of satisfaction before pulling her finger out of her mouth. “Goodness, darlin’…you even taste perfect.” She whispered out to you, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You moan into Sevika’s mouth as a result, tasting your own arousal in the process. You then pull yourself away from her to look into her eyes. “It’s all for you, Sevika…only you.”

A smirk begins to grow on Sevika’s face. She liked what she was hearing. “Hm, all mine, you say? I sure like the sound of that…” she says, her tone almost teasing. Her lips make their way back to your neck, kissing it once more.

“Do you like it when you’re mine, sweetheart?” she mutters as her lips continue to leave new marks against your skin. “Do you like it when I take you apart like this and claim you as my own?”

You nod quickly in response, only to be startled by a sudden harsh squeeze of her prosthetic hand on your hip. “Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“Mmm—yes, Sevika…” you gasp out. “Wanna be yours, only yours.”

“Now that’s more like it.”

As Sevika continued to kiss down your chest, you allowed yourself to untie the neck of your top and slide it off of yourself, fully exposing your breasts to her. Sevika pulls away and lets her hungry eyes linger over your chest and torso, viewing the areas of your skin as a blank canvas for her to mark her territory with her lips. She brings her mouth down to your breast and begins to gently suck on the soft flesh, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. She smirks against your skin, then brings her lips to your nipple and takes it into her mouth, humming as she feels it quickly harden under her lips. She continues to take her time with you like this, going down your torso mark by mark until she briefly stops at the hem of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart,” she instructs you.

You oblige to her and lift your hips, opening space for her to slide her hands under you and pull your skirt and underwear down in one fluid motion. You’re now completely exposed under her, like a deer in the headlights, and you can’t help but impulsively close your thighs shut in embarrassment once you notice how wet you were for her. Sevika chuckled over how shy you got for her, and she planted a soft kiss above your knee as she looked up at you. “C’mon, sweetheart…don’t get all shy with me now…” she mutters out quietly, gently rubbing your knees in encouragement.

Sevika gently shifts herself down on the bed and lies down on her stomach, settling herself between your closed legs. She moves closer to you, and her hands go down from your knees to your shins. “Open up for me, baby…” she pleads to you. “I promise I’ll take real good care of you, darlin’… but you have to let me in.”

You can’t help but give in to her words, and you slowly spread your legs out, exposing your soaking cunt to the older woman. Sevika could feel her mouth water at the sight, and she was desperate to get a taste of it. “Such a pretty pussy, baby…” she mutters out. “So nice ’n wet for me…gonna fuck you so so good.” She leans into you and begins to gently lap her tongue through your folds, collecting your arousal on her tastebuds. Sevika let a soft growl escape her mouth as she tasted you, her grip on your thighs tightening as she felt her own body react to the sounds you were making.

“Oh, God…” you gasp out at the sensation, your gaze peering down at Sevika, and she can’t help but chuckle again at your initial reaction as she spreads your thighs out further to get more space. “God ain’t here to help you now, baby, just me.” she says, licking another stripe up your folds. “It’s ironic, though, seein’ as how your wet little pussy is the closest thing to heaven that I could ever get a taste of.” She dives her head back into your pussy for more, but her eyes remain fixed on you as she wants to catch every one of your reactions to her memory. She didn’t want to miss a single thing.

Sevika runs her hands down the back of your thighs and fully lifts your legs up, folding your knees up to your chest so she can get a better view of your pussy. You whimper at the vulnerable position that she puts you in, and you can’t help but tilt your head to the side and cover your face with the back of your hand in an effort to shield yourself. Sevika notices this and instantly takes her mouth off. “Uh-uh, no hiding,” She muttered in between her movements. She brings her metal hand up to yours and moves it away from your face.

“No hiding that pretty face of yours. If you want me to take apart this needy little pussy, you’re gonna let me hear every sound you make, got it? I want to see and hear all of you.”

You whimper at her words, nodding quickly as you oblige to look at her. “That’s better…” she mutters, bringing her head back down to continue lapping at your cunt. More moans and whimpers continue to leave your mouth as Sevika keeps licking and sucking all of the wet and sensitive areas of your pussy. Without warning, as a sign of eagerness, she slides two of her fingers inside, and you let out a loud groan of satisfaction as she fills you. “Mm, you like that, needy girl? You like it when I fill you up like this?” she growls lowly at you, keeping her gaze focused on you. She couldn’t take her eyes off of you—not even for a second. Sevika had to watch every single expression that you would make to know that you felt satisfied with the way she was touching you.

Without a second thought, Sevika gently slides a third finger into your pussy, and the reaction she gets out of you is priceless. Your jaw drops down, and your eyes roll back in pleasure when she begins to curl her fingers inside of you at a painfully slow pace. She leans into you and wraps her lips onto your throbbing clit, giving it the attention it needs. It didn’t take long for her to increase the speed of her fingers, instantly hitting all of the right spots for you to get close. “Oh fuck, Sev! Right there!” You call out to her, your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself steady as she continues to ram her fingers inside your tight walls.

“You’re such a good girl f’me, lettin’ me hear all of you like that.” Sevika mutters from between your thighs. Her pace goes even faster this time, her hand being so strong that you could feel your whole torso shift back and forth on the bed. Your pussy begins to clench around her fingers, practically sucking them in you and taking them in all to yourself as you start to get close. “S-Sevika, please don’t stop…m’so close.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me…” Sevika’s fingers never stop moving, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of you as she is desperate to see the look on your face for when you cum undone onto her fingers. Your pussy starts to spasm around her, and the coil in your stomach begins to get tighter and tighter as you reach your peak. However, that building sensation felt a little different than usual. “S-Sevika, baby, wait,” You try to warn her. “I-I think I’m gonna—“

But it was too late. You couldn’t even finish your sentence as a loud moan of her name replaced it instead. Your jaw drops again, and your vision goes white as an obscene amount of your release squirts out of your pussy without warning, completely soaking Sevika’s face, fingers, and your bedsheets.

Sevika watched in awe as the beautiful sight of your orgasm unfolded right in front of her, never once letting her fingers slow down until you were thoroughly done with your release. Then, slowly, she eased her fingers out of you before lifting her head and licking them clean. Her eyes close for a moment as she savors the sweet and salty taste of your cum on her fingers. “My god, darlin’, you taste so damn good.” she mutters under her breath.

Her eyes blink back open and fix back on you as you recover from your high. Your eyes were fluttered shut, your head was tilted back against the pillow, and your breathing was evening itself out. After a few moments, you blink your eyes back open and bring yourself down to see Sevika still lying in between her legs. Her face and the collar of her shirt were soaked in your release, and you looked down to see the mess you created on your bedsheets. “Oh my god…” you gasp out. Your cheeks start to flush in embarrassment, and your trembling thighs close shut once again. A smirk spread across Sevika’s lips over how flustered you were getting. “Never done that before now, have you?” she asked. Your gaze shifts to the side, and you shake your head. Sevika brings her human hand up to your cheek, tilting your head back to her. “That…” she pauses, leaning in to kiss you. “Was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” She kisses you again and leans into your ear. “No one else gets to make you feel like this. No one else gets to fuck this pussy like I do. You’re all mine now, sweetheart. Mine and only mine.”

“M’all yours, Sev…” you assure her. You’d hate to admit it, but the way that Sevika got possessive towards you turned you on in a way that you couldn’t explain. However, you couldn’t help but test out if she’d really feel the same way with you. You tilt your head and lean into her. “In that case…does that mean you’re mine too?”

Oh, now Sevika was intrigued. She gently pulled her head back, looking back at you directly. “That a challenge now? You gonna be possessive over me?” she purrs at you, her eyes still locked onto yours. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart,” she warns. “And you might get yourself in trouble.”

“Trouble?” you say in mock innocence, clutching your hand over your chest as if you had been threatened by her. “No no no, m’not looking for that. I was simply just wonderin’ if now…” You pause for a moment, moving your head from Sevika’s ear to her neck to gently plant kisses of your own onto her skin. “…if now, I could return the favor.”

Sevika lets a low chuckle escape her, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment just to feel the sensation of your lips against her skin. Her smirk remains on her face, though, still keeping her tough persona on you as she refuses to submit. “Hmm”, she muttered, the tone in her voice laced with amusement. “You think just ‘cause you want it you can get it that easy? You seem to be getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

Your uncertain look shifts into a pout, and Sevika can’t help but chuckle at you. “Ahead of myself? You think just ‘cause you can claim me, I can’t do the same?”

Without thinking twice, you shift away from Sevika and sit up on the bed. You hook your fingers onto the belt loops of her jeans and switch places so she’s now lying down. You go around her and wrap your legs around her torso, keeping you under her grip. You then grab her by the collar of her shirt and pull her towards you, locking your lips with hers in a deep kiss. She lets out a low moan against your lips and wraps an arm around you, her human hand reaching down to grab your ass tightly and keeping you pressed against her. You pull away from her after a moment, and your mouth starts to travel from her lips to her jaw, beginning to mark your territory on Sevika’s tanned skin by planting wet marks of your own.

Sevika let out a low whine as she felt every mark that your lips left behind, and her hand on your ass tightened as you kept going, squeezing your soft flesh between her fingers. “I thought you were gonna be treating me right, huh?” She teases with a smirk, feeling her body start to warm up as her hand moves up to your waist. You simply smirk against her skin, not stopping your movements. “M’just getting started, Sev…” Your hands trail up to the collar of her shirt, fingers meeting together at the first button. The first button pops open under your touch, and you make your way down to the hem until Sevika briefly lifts herself up to fully slide it off her shoulders and toss it to the ground.

With your legs still wrapped around her, you sit yourself up to admire the sight of her exposed self beneath you. Your eyes trail down from her neck to her breasts, watching in awe over how large and beautiful they were. You trail your hands up and give them a gentle squeeze, watching how her soft flesh seeps through your fingers and feeling her nipples instantly harden under your palms.

A satisfied groan elicits from Sevika’s mouth as she begins melting into your touch. It was almost as if her own body was betraying her and submitting to you. But she couldn’t allow herself to give in like this so easily. “You’re mine,” she reminds you, lifting her hand and lightly running it over your thigh. “You keep touching me like this, and m’not gonna be able to hold back anymore. You sure you’re ready for that, sweetheart?”

A smirk grows on your face, and you lean back down to her level and bring her in for a kiss. “Then don’t hold back, Sevika,” you whisper to her. “You’re mine too, you know… and I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

With that, you continue to mark up the rest of Sevika’s body, your lips making the route south past her breasts and her abdomen, until they make a stop at the waistband of her jeans. Your lips part from her skin, and you begin to undo the belt buckle of her jeans, desperate to get them off of her. Sevika watched with growing desperation as you did so, and as soon as she heard the buckle come undone, she lifted up her hips and slid her jeans and boxers off of her thighs, letting you get rid of them completely.

You kneel back on the heels of your feet as Sevika opens up for you, and the sight of her was fucking glorious. Her brown, puffy folds perfectly framed her cunt which was completely shining with her arousal, and you could just visibly see the movements of her clit throbbing with desperation. Her pussy exhibited a kind of desire that only you could fix.

And so you immediately put yourself to work. You shift down on the bed and lie down on your stomach, your face now being settled in between Sevika’s thighs. With no hesitation, you dive right into her and lick a stripe up her pussy, your eyes closing in pure bliss at the addicting taste of her.

Sevika lowly moaned your name once your tongue came into contact with her pussy, already so immersed in the pleasure that she didn’t even notice that her hand had tangled its fingers into your hair, holding you tightly against her. “Oh fuck, darlin’…you’re so good at this…” she praises.

Your eyes blink themselves open, briefly falling out of your trance as you look up at Sevika with the purest and most innocent look in your eyes as you meet her heavy ones. Sevika can’t help but slightly lift your face off of her pussy for a moment just to see the full look of you with her arousal now dripping from your lips, smirking as she does so. “Don’t give me that look now, sweetheart. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Her teasing spurs you on, and you lean back into her pussy and continue to lap your tongue up her folds as she continues talking. “Wonder what your dad might think…his sweet girl submitting down to me like this…I bet he’d lose his damn mind if—oh fuck—“ She cuts herself off with a low groan as you insert a finger into her pussy, her nails digging into her scalp as she jerks her hips into your face.

“A-ah—“ you let out a groan against her pussy, and your eyes close shut again, fully immersed in the feeling of having Sevika’s hands in your hair while devouring her pussy. You quickly add in a second finger, and your lips travel up to suck her throbbing clit, causing Sevika to shut her eyes and arch herself further into your face, moaning and pleading you to keep going. “Fuck, oh god, sweetheart…k-keep going…”

Your tongue lays flat on her clit as it shifts up and down, and your fingers start to curl back and forth inside of her, instantly hitting all the right spots as you give her pussy all the attention it needs. Your movements catch Sevika completely off guard, her eyes flying open as she watches you devour her. “Oh fuck, right there! Right fuckin’ there…” she groans out, the wave of pleasure starting to rise in her as you begin to go faster.

It didn’t take long for Sevika to get close, and you could tell she was by the way her pussy began to clench and contract around your fingers. “God damn, darlin’, don’t fuckin’ stop…m’so close…” she pleads out to you. It was almost as if Sevika had no control over her pleasure anymore and became reliant on you to make her finish, and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Sevika’s body begins to convulse, and you quickly lift your mouth off of her clit and replace it with your thumb, quickly rubbing it in circular motions as your eyes stay fixed on her, impatiently waiting to see the look on her face for when she comes undone. Sevika’s moans grow louder, quickly turning into cries of pleasure until she reaches her peak and cums with a final cry of your name as her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her pussy squeezes a few more times until your fingers are met with the warmth of her release, creaming them from your fingertips down to your knuckles. It was truly the most beautiful sight you have seen and felt.

As Sevika comes down from her high, she finds herself unable to say anything or even get a full breath until your fingers slow down and withdraw from her completely. Her eyes then flutter back open to see you sucking your fingers clean and savoring the salty taste of her release on your tastebuds. “My god, sweetheart…you can’t even imagine what you just did to me…” Sevika managed to say, lifting her metal hand to hold the side of your face. You lean into the palm of her prosthetic as it cups your cheek, and you pull your fingers out of your mouth once they were clean so you could speak. “I told you I can claim you just as good.” you say with a giggle.

Sevika let out a sharp exhale as she took in the sight of you. “I sure see that now…” she then slowly sits herself up, a smirk beginning to rise on her face as she leans in to kiss you, briefly tasting her release on your lips before pulling away. “Think you got another one in you, darlin’?”

Your eyes remain on hers when she asks you that, an eyebrow raising up as curiosity begins to pique your interest. “Depends if I can handle it, baby… What do you have in mind?”

Sevika lets out a chuckle as her metal hand moves to your chin and pulls you in for a deeper kiss. “For starters, how about we trade places, yeah?” she coos out, her hand sliding down from your chin to your waist, slowly rolling you over so you’re back to lying down on your bed with her hovering over you. She then leans back on the heels of her feet to grab onto each of your legs and she spreads them as far open as possible. To no surprise, you were completely wet for her again, as if she hadn’t even touched you at all.

Sevika lets out a low groan at the sight of you, completely helpless and vulnerable under her grasp. “Mmm, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart…” she purrs out, her eyes never leaving your lower half. As she takes in the sight, Sevika lets a small smirk rise to her face as she leans down closer to your pussy, her grip remaining firm on your legs. “Such a pretty little thing…and so wet for me again already…it’s like she’s crying for more of me.” She continues, shifting her face closer.

“Mmm, Sev…again…” you whine out to her, then let out a soft moan as you feel that familiar tongue of hers lick a new stripe through your folds, followed by a hum of satisfaction coming from her. You had fully given yourself the expectation that Sevika would use her mouth and fingers on you again, but that wouldn’t be the case this time.

Sevika lifts her head back up and takes a second to admire how you looked under her; with your legs spread out under her tight grip and your soaked pussy clenching around nothing as a desperate sign to be filled up. She silently cursed herself for not wearing her strap tonight. She would’ve loved to see the beautiful sight of you being split open by her cock, thrusting into your pussy relentlessly until you’re shaking and coating her length with your release. However, she also wasn’t going to end the night abruptly and miss out on the opportunity to fuck you again, so she had to improvise.

With that, Sevika opens her own legs while keeping her grip on yours. She then hovers over you and presses her pussy right on top of yours, causing you to let out a gasp at the newfound feeling. The way that Sevika’s pussy fit perfectly against yours like that—the way her folds meshed on top of yours as if it were the missing piece of a puzzle—felt so satisfying to you.

Sevika lets out a moan once her cunt came into contact with yours, eyes fixed on the sight of it before she looks back up at you. “You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how good we fit together?” she muses out before pressing down even more and grinding up against you. “It’s like you were made for me, darlin’…Every part of you fits me right where it belongs.” As she felt how addicting it was to rub up against you, Sevika found herself closing her eyes and letting out more soft sounds of pleasure as she continued to slowly grind her pussy over yours. Your body gives the same reaction, your eyes fluttering themselves shut and your head slowly tilting back against the pillow, moaning at the sensation. “S-Sev, my God—you feel amazing…”

Without stopping her slow movements, Sevika slides her prosthetic hand under your head and gently tilts it up, leading you to open your eyes and look at her. You were so in awe of how she looked, how she sounded, and most of all, how she felt against you. It felt like you were in a fever dream. You were completely drunk on her, and she knew it. She loved it.

“S-Sev…” you gasp out, taking a second to catch your breath. “D-Don’t stop—ah!”

Sevika brushes her clit over yours, causing you to cut off your sentence with a cry of pleasure. Your head throws back against her hand, and your body arches itself further into her pussy. Sevika lets out another low groan on her end, and her hand sets your head back onto the pillow and trails downwards to press down on your lower stomach. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” she murmurs, increasing the pace of her grinding. “You just keep making those sounds for me—ah—you sound so pretty baby…”

You start to whine under her as your gaze drops down to where you and Sevika were connected, and you can’t help but weakly grind against her, desperate to chase that stimulation again. Sevika looks down on you and smirks. She could tell you were trying to ask her something. “What is it, darlin’? You wanna feel that again?”

Sevika felt no reason to ask again or to hear an answer from you. She fulfills your need as she brings her hand down to your pussy and lifts the hood with her thumb to expose your clit to her. She then adjusts herself upwards so her clit can stay directly pressed onto yours. “There you go, sweetheart…” she purrs out, moaning as your clit begins to throb against hers. “You just take that, baby…take my pussy for me like a good girl.” She begins to grind faster after that, making sure her clit rubs against yours with every move of her hips. But it still wasn’t enough.

“F-Faster, Sev, please…need to get there…” you plead out to her once more, and without a second thought—with no warning whatsoever—Sevika gives it her all and her movements start to go at a fast and relentless pace, completely catching you off guard. “Oh fuck, Sev! Right t-there, o-oh God…” Your words trail out at the end and your jaw goes slack at the intense pleasure she was hitting you with. Sevika couldn’t help but admire the sinful sight of you under her—so vulnerable and drunk in pleasure, with your mouth agape and your eyes all hooded, your hands still gripping tightly onto the sheets and your breasts bouncing uncontrollably as Sevika continued to ram her pussy against yours. It was a sight that she never wanted to stop seeing.

“Mmm…y-you look so…fuckin’ pretty like…this…” Sevika moans out to you, her words coming out in a heated tone as she watches your blissed-out expression. “Look how good you’re taking my pussy for me, my sweet girl…” Sevika presses herself harder against you, and you don’t even realize it, but she ends up taking your leg that was on top of hers and folds it to your chest to get a better angle, making sure she continues to hit the right spots for the two of you to finish. You start to cry in pleasure over the new position, and your legs start to shake under her grasp. “Sevika! O-Oh God, Sev—Right there! Right there, please!” you exclaim, practically begging her to keep her position there. The two of you were at your loudest right now. Between your cries and begs of pleasure, Sevika’s groaning, and the pornographic sound of your pussies squelching as they rub against each other, you’re honestly surprised that the two of you haven’t woken up the entire town at this point.

Sevika lets out a low, heated groan in response to your words, her movements not stopping one bit “Mmm, fuck…my God you feel so good…” she says, her breathing now coming out in heavy, uneven pants. As Sevika keeps her human hand on your thigh, her metal hand swings above your head and grabs onto the headboard to keep herself steady. The familiar coil in your stomach begins to form, and you start to get close again. “S-Sev…I…I’m so…” you pant out to her, trying your best to get the words out of your mouth. Sevika simply shushes you, trying to have you save whatever energy you had left in you for your release. “Shhh, baby, I know, I know…” she coos back, opening her eyes to look down at you. “Just let it go for me, sweetheart…let it all out.”

Sevika continues to talk you through it as you reach your peak, and with that, her clit brushes up against yours a few more times which finally pushes you both over the edge. Your cries of pleasure start to go in sync with her groaning, and both pussies begin to spasm around each other before you cum all over Sevika’s folds with a loud moan of her name. Sevika catches her release shortly after you, her hips stuttering out before finishing with a loud groan as her fluids spill out of her pussy and land onto yours. The two of you take a moment to catch each other’s breath, and Sevika slowly loosens her grip on your thigh while she lets go of the headboard. The two of you look down to where you were both connected, and Sevika pulls her cunt away from yours, causing you to whine at the loss. The strings of slick connecting the two of you breaks and Sevika slowly closes your legs before settling down next to you. “Mmm…sweetheart...You did so well for me…” she murmurs to you as she gently kisses your shoulder, her voice still filled in a deep and husky tone. Even after having sex with her, you still couldn’t help but find her voice to be intoxicating.

You simply hum at her in response and try to muster up some energy to tilt your head over and plant a quick kiss on her lips, leading the older woman to wrap her human arm around you and pull you closer to her. The warmth of Sevika’s embrace fades into the stillness of your bedroom, and the exhaustion catches up to you quickly, causing your eyes to flutter shut as slumber starts to consume you. It feels like only a moment has passed when your eyes open again, and you find yourself tucked beneath a clean set of sheets and a barrier of soft cotton hugging your figure. Your eyes slowly dart around your bedroom, and your heart sinks when you see Sevika with her boxers back on and searching for the rest of her clothes. A lump forms in your throat as you realize she’s getting ready to leave. You want to ask her to stay, just a little longer, even though you both know she has to go before your dad comes back. Before you can stop yourself, the words are quick to slip out of your mouth.

“Sevika?” you call out softly, your voice still laced with sleep. Sevika is quick to stop what she was doing to tend to you. “Hey there,” she says, giving you a soft smile once she sees that you had woken up. “You alright?”

You hesitate for a moment before continuing. The words feel heavy on your tongue, but the ache that was growing in your chest outdoes it. “Could you…could you stay…just a little longer? Please?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika pauses, and her eyes flicker to the window where the faint glow of the moonlight is still filtering through it. For a moment, you thought she’d say no—but this time, she gives in—and whatever worries about your dad's arrival in the morning seemed to fade as she turned back to you with ease. “Of course, sweetheart…I’ll stay with you.” she murmurs, her voice tender as she removes her prosthetic arm and sets it down on the ground next to the bed. The weight of the bed shifts as Sevika climbs back into bed and lies down right behind you. Her human hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to her. You instantly melt into her strong, warm embrace, but you can’t shake the possibility of your father walking in on the two of you, making you feel uneasy. Sevika is quick to take note of this and leans in to plant a couple of soft kisses on your shoulder blade, her lips brushing your ear as she leans into you. “Hey. Don’t worry about that right now, okay?” she murmurs. “Everything will be fine, I promise…I’ve got you.”

You nod, the weight of her words sinking in as her embrace wraps you in comfort and warmth. Slowly, the uneasiness disappears, soon replaced by a sense of peace only Sevika could give you. With her presence beside you, you let go of all your worries, and the gentle rhythm of her breathing brings you into a deep, restful sleep. As you drift off, a soft, reassuring thought crosses your mind—this night with Sevika felt like the start of something real, something that won’t fade.

For now, you’re unsure of what the future might hold, but with Sevika by your side, you feel ready for whatever could happen next.

god i wish she was real

#needthat #foaming at the mouth #spazzing on the floor #squidkid reblog

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