âË á° EVERYTHING HE ISNâT.
Synopsis: Jamie Dutton is a dysfunctional man, from a dysfunctional family. What happens when his sister warns you about him, when your relationship is already teetering on the brink of ending?
Pairing: Beth Dutton x Fem!Reader, Jamie Dutton x Fem!Reader
Warning(s): SMUT (mentions of sex, oral, fingering, dirty talk), Slight Abuse (Jamie hits reader during an argument), cheating (but itâs Jamie, so itâs okay.)
Authors Note: Beth Dutton is smexy đ This came to me out of nowhere and I decided it needed to be written bc I miss Yellowstone (me as soon as I feel a chill outside)
Youâd never known a more dysfunctional manâŚwhich is saying a lot.
Jamie Dutton plays the game. He starts off kind, charming, gentlemanly. He opens doors, kisses your temple, holds your hand, acts like a decent man should.
Then, the facade falls. Then, itâs arguments, degrading words, looks that make you feel like youâre worth nothing. Then, his work takes over, and youâre pushed to the back burner, no longer the object of his desire.
And yet, you stay. You let him push you around. You always promised yourself youâd never let this happen, never allow a man to disrespect you, but Jamie Dutton makes it hard to run.
Because then he apologizes. He cries, seems so sincere, promises to be better. He takes you on a lavish date and buys you luxurious gifts, despite your insistence that youâre not materialistic, that words and actions matter more than a disposable gift.
Thatâs the game, though. He reels you in, casts you out to be eaten alive, then pulls you right back to use you again.
Your relationship has been teetering on the edge of the end for a while. Since your first fight, youâve been rethinking it. Youâd only been with him for a few weeks when the red flags began to rear their ugly heads, and once again, your promise to yourself showed.
I will never let a man mistreat me.
Then, you met his family. Youâd been with him for a month, at the time, when a family dinner was arranged. He drove you to The Dutton Ranch, you gawked at the beauty, and he rolled his eyes.
âThis land isnât as pretty when you know who owns it,â He said to you, raining on your parade. You let it slide. Heâd opened up about his past, and you gathered that it wasnât a very peaceful uprising for him, or anyone in the family.
Which rang true when you sat down with his father, John, his sister, Beth, as well as his Brother Kayce, Kayceâs wife and son, Monica and Tate. The tension was clear, mostly directed at Jamie. You wondered what he hadnât told you, what heâd done for everyone to become tense around him.
Though, you knew Jamie was a ticking time bomb. He was always short tempered and highly emotional, and maybe that was just it; they walk on eggshells to avoid upsetting him.
During that first dinner, though, Bethâs gaze lingered on you. It started as a curious watch, turned into what felt like holes being burned into you, via her misty eyes. She drank whiskey, lipstick leaving a stain on the fancy glassware, and even then, she stayed looking at you.
You couldnât tell if she was scrutinizing you, or perhaps demanding for you to return her gaze without saying anything to you.
You shifted uncomfortably as you answered questions, talked with Jamieâs family. You had steak and salad, of which was honestly amazing. This was lavish in a new way. It wasnât a fancy restaurant, but a cozy home, a chef who clearly had good relations with those living here. It was much nicer than anything Jamie had given you, regardless of the luxurious places he took you.
When you finally submitted and looked at Beth, she smiled at you. Not a friendly smile, a condescending one, almost like she pitied you. She nodded her head towards the kitchen, and lifted her empty glass.
She needs a refillâŚand wants you to join?
You quietly dismissed yourself, and Jamie watched with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows as you followed Beth into the kitchen.
You knew Jamie didnât trust her, nor like her, and the same went for her. Jamie implied that their relationship was non existent; sheâd have disowned him, if she could, and to the extent that she was able to, she had done exactly that. He wasnât her brother, if you asked her.
Bethâs heels tapped against the hard wood floors, and your eyes flicked down to her shoes, then back up to her face.
She was hotâ in a completely respectful, woman-to-woman way, of course.
You swallowed, leaning against the island counter as Beth grabs another whiskey glass. She poured one, then another, sliding the glass towards you. The scent of whiskey drifted through your nostrils, and you grasped the glass, taking a small sip. Bethâs eyes lingered on you, and she tilted her head as your brow twitched upon tasting the potency of the drink.
You looked at her, your body tense. She hadnât said a word, she simply looked at you, and your stomach began turning with something you werenât sure - at the time - what to label. Is it fear? Is it nervousness? Arousal?
She looked like she wanted to eat you alive.
Just as you opened your mouth to say something, anything, to break the tension, she spoke.
âWhy are you willingly dating my dipshit brother?â She asked you, raising a brow.
You blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. Jamie had warned you, and perhaps thatâs why you were so nervous. He made her seem like the devil himself came to life, yet you canât help but think if youâd seen her in any other circumstance, youâd probably have thought about her for days after. Not because she was scary, no, but because she was sexy.
Her eyes were like daggers, her lips plush, like theyâd feel so amazing on your skin. You had never really thought about being with a woman in a serious sense, but for the briefest of moments, the idea flicked through your mind.
âHello?â Bethâs voice brought you back to reality, as she waited for your answer. You swallowed, took another sip of whiskey.
Why are you with Jamie? Heâd shown that he wasnât reliable, wasnât trustworthy. Yet, you stayed. Why?
You didnât know what to say, unable to scrounge up a sincere answer. You could tell, without even knowing Beth, that she wouldnât take bullshit. So, honesty it would be.
You shrugged, setting your glass down. âHeâs decent,â you said, albeit through gritted teeth. He hadnât been so decent the last few weeks.
In fact, you argued with him on the way to this dinner. Thatâs ironic, isnât it?
âDecent?â Beth would laugh, the sound low and mocking. Sheâd look at you with eyes that made you feel like falling to your knees, like she pitied you so deeply that sheâd let her cold exterior up just enough to let you in.
She didnât , though, because thatâs not Beth Dutton. Not so fast, at least.
âHeâs anything but decent, dollface.â Sheâd say, stepping closer to you. She smelled of cigarettes and lingering perfume, smelled like a bad decision but a hell of a good time.
âMy brother is scum of the earth,â she told you, looking into your eyes. âAnd from one woman to another, he doesnât know what to do with you.â She said, looking you up and down.
This time, though, her gaze didnât make you feel so small. She looked at you like you should know better, like she wished you saw the same woman she did.
It made you feel empowered, in that moment.
And as quickly as she was in your space, she was gone. Sheâd walk back into the dining room, call for you a second later.
Youâd down your drink, walk back into the dining room, and sit down next to Jamie. Heâd raise a brow at you, rest a hand on your thigh.
Leaning closer, heâd whisper, âWhat did she say?â He asked, but you shook your head simply. âDonât worry about it.â
You couldnât stop thinking about it. About her.
Her eyes, her voice, the way she spoke to you. She made you feel scared and safe all at once, like maybe she could hurt you, but no one else would.
It was ridiculous, in a way. Youâd laugh at yourself, because how had she had such an effect on you?
Sheâd laugh at you, probably give you that look again, like she pitied youâŚand youâd want to crumble to your kneesâŚagain.
Jamie had noticed a difference in you. You werenât so reactive to him anymore. When he said something that would usually start a fight, you dismissed it and moved on. When he tried to kiss you, youâd return it weakly, a mere press of lips against one anotherâs.
He didnât immediately dumb it down to Beth â he wasnât sure what it was. Had he done something? Heâs always doing something wrong, isnât he?
He felt like you always made him the problem. He could never do anything right with you.
âGifts donât account for apologies, Jamie.â
âAre you even sorry, Jamie?â
In time, he felt himself growing resentful. When is he not? His whole life, heâs resented people, because they always turn on him.
Then, another family dinner would come. This time, youâd be seeking Beth out, and Jamie wouldnât like it.
You found her on the porch, smoking a cigarette.
She was wearing a black dress, white flowers on it, black boots. She wore a black shawl, wrapped around her shoulders, shielding her from the cool Montana air.
Sheâd look over her shoulder, raising a brow. âDollface,â sheâd greet, grinning at you. Youâd manage to smile back, a small smile.
You were relieved to see her. She was like a breath of fresh air, within her bluntness. She wouldnât lie, wouldnât manipulate. Jamie always did those things.
Everything he isnât, everything he lacks, she is the human embodiment of, and god, sheâs gorgeous.
You walked towards her, and as you rested your hands on the porch railing, she offered a cigarette.
âI donât smoke,â you shook your head. She just smiled, tucking the cigarette in her bra. Your eyes followed her hand instinctively, and youâd avert your gaze when she looked at you.
âYou swing both ways or what?â She questioned, a laugh laced in her words, one that made your head spin a little bit.
You didnât respond. Instead, you sighed.
âWhy did you warn me about Jamie?â You asked, wanting to get some sort of answer to the million questions youâd thought of in the last few weeks.
It was her turn to sigh. You donât even know the half of it, do you?
âJamie being Jamie isnât enough for you?â She asked, tilting her head at you. You looked her in the eye, shrugging, unsure.
âI mean, I get that heâs aâŚdouche, sometimes, but why would you go out of your way to tell me? Especially the first time we met?â You asked, brows furrowing slightly.
Her expression became solemn, serious. Her eyes dimmed, and she took a long drag off of the cigarette. Blowing the smoke out, it would dissipate into the night.
âI was 15, pregnant,â sheâd start, looking out at the ranch, rather than at you. Her lips pressed together, and she swallowed, like she was suppressing emotions. âI told Jamie, I thought I could trust him,â she shook her head, laughing bitterly.
âHe took me to a free clinic. Didnât want word to get out that Beth Dutton was pregnant,â She explained. You watched with sincere concern, eyes softening, a sense of dread building in your stomach. Oh, what had he done?
She explained what had happened. He was young, yes, but he didnât even think to tell her? To give her the choice?
It made your heart hurt for her, but the look she gave you warned you not to pity her, She didnât want, nor need it. She was fine in her silent, brewing rage. In fact, she preferred it that way.
âI canât have children, now, and itâs his fault,â She shook her head. âThat aside,â she paused, taking a hit off of her cigarette, which was comedically timed, but you only smiled slightly, âJamieâs a dick. In every sense of the word, heâs an asshole, and I can tell youâre not happy with him. Donât stay just because heâs nice sometimes.â She concluded.
You nodded slowly, looking down. Is the right thing to do, to leave him? Would you be happier?
She grinned as she watched you suddenly spiral into thought, and her hand on your lower back startled you.
âYou donât have enough brain to worry so hard, dollface,â sheâd tease. Sheâd lift a hand to your hair, gently caressing it, an affectionate, soothing gesture. Your heart would skip a beat, and you knew then, that if you werenât leaving him because of the red flags, itâd be because youâre thinking about his sister in ways a taken woman shouldnât beâ
You needed space. Space to think.
So, you gently took her hand and squeezed it, before releasing it. You turned on your heel, to walk back inside.
Before you could, though, sheâd stop you.
âDollface?â sheâd call, and meet your gaze when you turned around.
âDonât go crying to anyone when he does what he always does.â
What were you supposed to do with that?
The ride home with Jamie was nothing short of silent and awkward. He looked at you like he knew what youâd been thinking.
Like he knew you wanted her.
You felt guilty, angry. Angry at yourself for being disloyal, for letting it get to this point. Angry at Jamie for how heâd treated you, shamelessly, and how heâd clearly treated Beth the same. Her dismay towards him was fair, you knew that much.
âWhat is it with you lately?â Jamie suddenly speaks, breaking the silence within the moving car.
âWhat do you mean?â You retort, looking at him with furrowed brows. You know what he means. Why had you been distant? Why were you no longer acting like yourself? Why didnât you want him the way you used to?
Why couldnât you look him in the eye?
Jamie grips the steering wheel, shaking his head. His anger is already rising, and his nostrils flare, showing that.
âYou know what I mean. Shutting me out. Getting all buddy-buddy with the rest of my family who hates me?â He says, looking at you, eyes burning into you, a way thatâs similar yet entirely different to how Beth looked at you the first night you sat with the Duttons for family dinner.
You sigh, lifting a hand to rub your eyes exasperatedly.
âWhy didnât you tell me what you did?â You ask, looking at him, mirroring his angered expression.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âWith Beth. When you were youngâ when you didnât tell her you were having her sterilized?â
His eyes darken, and his knuckles become white, with how hard heâs gripping the wheel. Heâs so quick to anger, so fragile, like a bomb, not a flower.
âSo this is what you were talking about, with her? Shitting on me behind my back? I did what was right.â He responds, making you laugh flatly.
That wasnât right. He may have been young and dumb, but how could he have not known better?
The silence gets to Jamie. It eats away at him until he canât stand it anymore.
âYou wanna fuck my sister,â He suddenly accuses, making your eyes widen, before your expression hardens.
âAre you fucking serious? Thatâs your concern? Instead of taking accountabilityââ
âI apologized!,â He says, almost yells. âJesus fucking christ, youâre always on my goddamn ass about something,â he growls, shaking his head incredulously.
You shake your head, at the same time he does, nostrils flaring.
âLet me out.â You say, reaching for the door handle. He slows down, but doesnât stop. Not yet.
âFor what? You gonna run to her like a little bitch?â He says, and you scowl at him.
âYouâre such a fucking pussy, Jamieââ
His hand comes out of nowhere. He backhands you, and like never before.
Then, he slows to a stop. He knows heâs made a big mistake. The biggest one heâs ever made with you.
You grab his phone, then get out of the car.
âWhat are you doing? My fucking phoneââ
You slam the door before he can say anything else, and you open his contacts, finding Bethâs. When you call, it takes a few rings, before she picks up.
âWhat do you want, dipshit?â Comes her pretty, raspy voice through the phone, and your voice is shaky, in response.
âDollface?â She asks, laughing. âWhat are you calling me for? I thought I told you not to go crying toââ
The phone is snatched out of your hands, and the last thing Beth hears before the call is ended, is yours and Jamieâs voice. Arguing, yelling.
She knows the way to Jamieâs house. So, she drove, headlights on, until she saw you, walking down the road, high heels in hand.
Jesus christ, could you be any more pathetic?
It makes her smile, though. She pulls up, honking. It makes you jump, and when you turn around, you sigh gratefully.
You speed walk to the car, pulling open the passenger door.
Beth sighs as you get in and buckle your seatbelt, turning the car around, to begin the drive back to the ranch.
âThought I told you not to go crying to anyone?â Beth speaks, glancing at you.
âIâm not crying,â You clarify, looking at her. Your eyes are misty, but you arenât crying.
Beth looks at you, then at the road, grinning slowly. âThatâs my girl.â
She reaches over, then, and opens her glovebox, pulling out a napkin. She pushes it to your nose, having you takeover holding it.
âDonât bleed on my seats,â She says, playfully scolding you.
âIâm bleeding?â You ask, and she laughs, shaking her head.
âNo, iâm just fucking with you,â she says, sighing amusedly. She glances at you, seeing the fear in your eyes.
âHe hit you?â She asks, her expression shifting. âDid he fucking hit you?â she repeats, when you donât answer.
You nod your head slowly, lowering the napkin. Her lips purse, and she adjusts the way sheâs seating, seething internally.
âDid you hit back?â She asks, and you shake your head.
âYou should have.â She says simply, glancing at you, seeing the way you look guilty, like youâre about to apologize.
She stops the car, the breaks squealing as she reaches over to grab your jaw. âDonât look so fucking sorry. He hit you. You took it like a woman, and youâre stronger than most for not hitting backâŚIf he ever lays a finger on you, or any man, again, you better beat the shit out of them though, yeah?â
You nod, looking into her eyes. She nods back, then releases your chin.
You sit back, slowly scanning her car.
Itâs clean, safe from the occasional cigarette ashes. You smile at the thought, just because itâs so her.
Then, you see it. A glimpse of silver tucked into the drivers side door. A gun.
âDo you always have that on you?â You ask, and Beth hums, as she starts driving again.
âI usually have Rip with me, when I leave, but thatâŚâ she smiles slightly. âIâd have done what I had to do.â She says simply, glancing at you.
Why is it so hot to think of her murdering someone just because they hit you? Much less your ex boyfriend? Her brother?
As it turns out, you could get more pathetic.
She took you to the ranch, brought you inside.
Now youâre in her bedroom, sipping on whiskey.
She sits on her bed, and you stand awkwardly in her room, like a virgin waiting to get laid. Itâs amusing and endearing all at once, the sight, making her snicker into her glass.
She crosses her legs, resting the cup on her knee, her fingers curled around it.
âYou never answered me,â she says, eyes sparkling with something dark, mischievous. They always seem to be, though.
âWhat?â You ask, brows furrowing, as you try to understand what she might be referring to.
âWhen I asked if you swing both ways. You didnât say,â She tilts her head curiously, gesturing for you to talk, to answer her now.
She smiles, because there you go again, working that pretty head of yours too hard.
âDollface, itâs not that serious of a question. Either you do or donât.â She says, standing suddenly. She gulps down the rest of the whiskey in her glass, then sets it down.
She steps towards you, grabs your wrist. She guides your glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink the rest of your whiskey, too.
âEither you want to fuck me, or you donât,â She whispers to you, as she lowers the glass, setting it down alongside her own.
Her hands come to your waist, and she grips you gently, but firmly, pulling you closer. âSo tell me, dollface. Are we fucking or not?â
Your breath hitches, your skin tingling. You donât think the whiskey would have gotten to you so fast, but you donât want to admit that sheâs got you this messed up.
âI hope so,â you finally spit out. She grins, lifting a hand to gently thread her fingers through your hair, gripping it.
âYeah?â She asks, tilting her head. âTell me, did he ever satisfy you?â She prompts, and you donât have to ask who, to know who sheâs referring to.
âSometimes,â You mumble honestly. âOnly sometimes?â She asks, raising a brow. You nod, and she shakes her head, clicking her tongue.
âIt wasnât ever worth it, was it?â She asks, and you shake your head.
She nods, gripping your hair at the base. âBoys like Jamie donât deserve women like you, dollface,â she murmurs, kissing your cheek softly.
Her lips meet yours a moment later. You melt into the kiss, your hands finding her waist, where your fingers curl into her dress. Sheâs still in the same one from earlier, no shawl this time, and before you can find the straps, sheâs peeling your jacket off of your shoulders.
She drops your jacket, her hands sliding down your chest, groping at your boobs.
When she feels your fingers fiddle with the straps of her dress, she stops you. Pulling away, she smiles as she caresses your cheek.
âLet me handle this one, dollface.â She says softly, pushing you back towards her bed.
She reaches down and grabs your dress, gently bunching it up to your hips, then pulling it over your head.
Her fingers dance over your skin, over your bra, down your stomach, towards your panties. She trails her fingers down your crotch, the sickening smile still on her lips.
âCute.â She murmurs simply, at your wetness, before she peels your panties off, taking your heels off in the process.
She kisses down your leg, your inner thigh, lips ghosting over your pussy, as she kisses your abdomen.
âBeth,â you sigh her name, reaching down to gently card your fingers through her hair. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation racking through you.
âYes, dollface?â She looks up at you from between your legs, and notices the look on your face.
Like youâre scared. Like you want it, but the guilt is already eating you alive.
âThis isnât wrong,â she assures you, raising a brow. âYouâre not going back to him, are you?â she asks.
You shake your head slowly, and she shrugs, âThen whatâs the problem?â
âJust feels wrong,â you muse, watching as she comes up, hovering over you. She leans down, gently kissing your forehead.
âWe donât have to do anything, dollface,â she assures you, but it makes your heart sink, and you shake your head.
âI want to,â You reaffirm, looking up at her like a deer in headlights.
âThen whatâs got you so worried?â she asks, tilting her head. âYou and Jamie are broken up. Youâre your own woman. Do whatever the fuck you wantâŚor whoever you want, in this case.â
You canât help but laugh at that, the sound making her smile. She kisses your cheek again, before she slides back down between your thighs, gently propping your legs on her shoulders.
âJust relax,â she tells you, kissing your inner thigh. You take a deep breath, and she watches as your chest rises and falls.
âGood girl,â she murmurs, before one of her hands brushes against your slit, her fingers dipping into your slick.
Her fingers trail lower, down to your ass, and your eyes widen a fraction.
âWoah,â you squeak, and she looks up, fingers retracting.
âToo soon?â She asks, grinning. When you nod, she just laughs, trailing her fingers back up.
âToo soon,â you agree with a breathless laugh, gasping as she dips two fingers into your entrance, gently curling them.
Your eyes flutter shut as Beth starts working you open, her free hand rubbing your hip. She leans in, gently kissing your clit, the act making your legs tremble, and you gently cross your ankles behind her shoulders.
She suckles gently at your clit, working her fingers against your walls, the mixture of stimulation making small mewls leave your lips.
Youâre well aware that her father is likely home, probably upstairs asleep, or trying to sleep, and the last thing you want is for him to know that his daughter is fucking his sons ex girlfriend.
âBeth,â you moan her name as she continues her motions, her tongue flicking up and down, occasionally prodding at your entrance, of which her fingers slide in and out of.
Your mewls grow as she pushes you closer and closer to release, and you grip her hair, eyes screwed shut.
âFuckââ you breathe a string of curses as she speeds up her ministrations, an orgasm taunting you now.
âGonna cum for me, dollface?â She mutters against you, and your eager nod only serves to make her push you farther, moving her head up and down with her suckling, her fingers working in and out of you like itâs a paid job.
You fall apart under her touch, and she continues until youâre pushing her head away. When she comes up, her chin is wet with your release, and the smile on her lips remains.
She pulls her fingers out slowly, gently caressing your messy cunt. You jolt, gently smacking her hand with a breathless whine.
She grins, lying down next to you, where she pulls your body onto hers, guiding your head to her chest.
When you start kissing her skin, she caresses your hair with her clean hand. âDonât worry about me, dollface. Youâve had a long day.â she sighs, kissing your head.
Youâre taken aback, before a small smile takes over your lips. Jamie wouldnât have waited.
But then again, everything he isnât, she is.
