Summary: Bob has a severe case of baby fever when he sees Y/N babysitting her baby niece.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem!Reader. Smut. +18. Oral (fem receiver). Lots of dirty talk. Lots of teasing. Kinda quiet sex (like, hand in mouth type of sex). P in V. Breeding kink. Very Dom!Bob.
Word count: 4.1k
Authors note: I'M BACK BABY! I'm not gonna make excuses but the last few weeks have been HORRIBLE. Anyway, now I have some free time, so I hope you guys like this, cause these days I'm going to be writing and posting like crazy -especially kinktober-
Kinktober General masterlist Requests
The morning sun crept through the thin curtains of the bedroom, painting soft streaks of gold across the floor. For the first time in weeks, there was no alarm jolting him awake before dawn, no mission briefings or checklists racing through his head. Just the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic breathing of Y/N, curled against his side.
It was strange, really, how quickly things could shift from life and death in the skies to the stillness of home. Bob had spent so long focused on surviving, on precision and instinct and trust. The Uranium mission had pushed every one of them to their limits, and somehow, miraculously, they had all made it back. He was grateful, of course, but something inside him had shifted.
He turned his head to look at Y/N, her hair spilling over the pillow, her hand resting lightly on his chest. She looked peaceful, unaware of the weight in his thoughts. He’d always known she was the center of his world, the one who grounded him when everything else was chaos. But now, after what they’d gone through, the thought of waiting, of letting life just drift by, felt unbearable.
He wanted more with her. He wanted a future.
By the time the morning rolled around, they were packing for a short trip to visit Y/N’s family. Her sister had just had a baby, and the whole clan was gathering to welcome the newest member of the family. Bob had been there before, countless times over the years. Y/N’s parents adored him, and her siblings treated him like one of their own. The jokes, the meals, the teasing, it always felt like home to him.
He couldn’t help but think about that word “home” as he folded his shirts into the duffel bag.
“You sure you’re okay with this weekend?” Y/N asked, peeking into the bedroom doorway. “It’s going to be a full house, and the baby’s schedule is all over the place.”
Bob smiled, glancing up at her. “You’re asking if I’m okay with a little chaos? I've been there thousands of times. Chaos is easy.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I love you, really.”
His eyes softened. “Yeah, I love you too.”
He froze for half a second, watching her as she turned back toward the hallway. He’d heard her say it before, of course. But somehow, it hit differently today. Maybe because he knew exactly what he wanted to say back. Not just “I love you”, but “I want forever with you”.
The drive to her parents’ house was long enough for reflection but short enough that the nerves hadn’t completely consumed him yet. Y/N was humming softly along to a playlist she’d made for road trips —Fleetwood Mac, The Lumineers, a bit of Taylor Swift— and Bob found himself smiling just watching her.
The scenery blurred past. Golden fields, a few scattered clouds drifting over the hills. Every so often, Y/N would reach over and squeeze his hand, and he’d squeeze back, comforted by the simple rhythm of it.
When they finally pulled into her parents’ driveway, the sound of laughter and conversation spilled out before they’d even opened the car doors. Her dad was outside grilling, her mom setting up a long table under the patio lights. Her older brother, Nick, waved from across the yard, a beer in hand.
And then there was the baby. Tiny, swaddled in pastel blankets, sleeping in her mother’s arms. Y/N’s sister, Maia, looked exhausted but radiant.
“Y/N! Bob!” Maia called softly, careful not to wake the baby. “Hey, look who finally made it.”
He smiled and gave her a small hug. “Hey, Mama. How are you holding up?”
“Tired. But happy,” she said, grinning. “Want to meet her?”
He glanced at Y/N, who was already leaning in close, cooing over the newborn. Her eyes shone with warmth and wonder. Bob’s heart caught in his throat as he watched her. She looked so natural, so right like that.
When Maia gently passed the baby into Y/N’s arms, Bob felt something deep and quiet stir inside him. Y/N’s fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted her hold, her voice soft and full of awe.
“She’s so tiny,” she whispered. “I can’t believe she’s real.”
Bob couldn’t tear his eyes away. The way Y/N smiled down at the baby —the tenderness, the gentleness— it was everything he didn’t know he’d been waiting to see. He could almost imagine it: her holding their child someday, the same soft expression on her face. Maybe even more.
He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat.
Someday, he thought. Maybe someday soon.
Dinner that night was a lively affair. Her family was the kind of warm, noisy household Bob had always admired from afar. Stories flying across the table, inside jokes, the occasional argument about who’d forgotten to pick up dessert. Y/N’s dad, a tall man with kind eyes, handed Bob a beer and clapped him on the back.
“Good to see you again, son,” he said. “How’s the Navy treating you these days?”
“Good, sir,” Bob replied, smiling. “It’s been busy, but… We made it through the last mission in one piece. Can’t ask for much more than that.”
Her dad nodded knowingly. “That’s good to hear. You’ve done some incredible things, Bob. We’re proud of you, you know.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. “We’re proud of you”. It wasn’t something he heard often, and hearing it from Y/N’s father felt like something deeper than simple praise. It felt like belonging.
Across the table, Y/N caught his eye and smiled. He smiled back.
Later, when the baby started to fuss, Y/N was the first to stand.
“I’ll get her,” she said, already heading toward Maia’s room.
Bob watched her go, the familiar warmth rising in his chest. Her mother leaned toward him with a knowing grin.
“She’s wonderful with babies, isn’t she?”
Bob chuckled. “Yeah. She really is.”
“Y’know,” her mother said, lowering her voice, “Maia was saying how nice it is for cousins to be close in age. You two have been together for what, five years now?”
“Almost six,” he said, smiling faintly.
“Six years,” she repeated. “That’s a good, solid foundation. Don’t ya think?”
He nearly choked on his drink. “Uh-yes, ma’am. Definitely.”
She patted his arm kindly. “You don’t have to tell me your plans, sweetheart. But just so you know, we’d be thrilled. All of us.”
Bob felt his ears go red. He mumbled something about getting more ice and excused himself, though he couldn’t stop smiling.
Later that night, the house was finally quiet. Y/N and Bob were staying in the guest room upstairs, the one with the floral quilt and the view of the backyard. Y/N had just finished helping her sister settle the baby again, and when she came in, she looked tired but content.
“You were amazing with her tonight,” Bob said softly as she slipped under the covers.
Y/N gave a little shrug, brushing her hair back. “I just wanted to give Maia a break. She hasn’t slept more than two hours straight in a week.”
Bob reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re going to be an incredible mom someday.”
Her eyes widened a little, searching his face. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said, voice steady. “You have this… Kindness in you. You make everyone around you feel safe. Even me.”
She smiled, eyes soft. “You make me feel that way, too.”
He leaned in and kissed her. It started softly, tenderly, a gentle reaffirmation of their love as their lips met. Bob's hand gently cupped Y/N's cheek, tilting her face to deepen the kiss, which gradually grew more passionate, more urgent.
Y/N's fingers tangled in Bob's hair as she pressed herself against him, feeling the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around her. Their tongues danced, exploring, tasting, each deepening the connection between them.
As their make-out session intensified, the room began to fill with the sounds of their escalating arousal: a breathy moan from Y/N, a low growl from Bob. The air grew thicker, heavy with anticipation and desire. Bob's hands started to wander, slowly, reverently, caressing the curves of Y/N's body through the thin fabric of her nightclothes. Each touch ignited sparks beneath her skin, stoking the flames of her want. She could feel the evidence of his own desire pressing against her, hard and insistent.
As their kiss broke, Y/N pulled back slightly, a playful smirk on her lips.
"Someone's eager tonight," she teased, her voice low and breathy.
"I love you, too," she murmured sweetly after a few seconds, her voice still somewhat shaken. "Just... God, I needed a moment to recover."
"Don't be a tease," he complained, gently bumping their foreheads together as he began to rub against her.
A low moan escaped her at the sensation. "I think someone's got baby fever."
She punctuated her words with a teasing wiggle of her hips, rubbing herself against the prominent bulge in Bob's boxers. He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest.
"Guilty as charged," he admitted, his hands slipping under her nightshirt to caress the soft skin of her waist. "Seeing you with your niece today, the way you naturally cared for her… It did things to me, Y/N. Made me imagine you like that, but with our child."
His voice took on a deeper, more dominant tone as he rolled them over so he was hovering above her.
"The thought of you, all mine, carrying my baby..." His lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point.
Bob's hands gripped Y/N's wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued his sensual assault, his lips now trailing down to her collarbone. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and the promise of love bites in his wake.
"You like that, don't you, baby?" he growled softly against her skin. "You like it when I take control, when I manhandle you like this. I know you do."
He rocked his hips into hers, the friction delicious even through their thin clothing. Y/N could feel his hard length throbbing against her core, a delicious pressure that made her squirm beneath him.
She was completely lost in the feeling of Bob around her, enclosing her in his embrace, touching her the way only he knew how. It was too much for her to handle every time.
"I'm going to worship this body of yours," he promised, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. "Every. Single. Inch."
With that, he released her wrists in favor of gripping the hem of her nightshirt. In one swift motion, he peeled the garment up and off, tossing it carelessly to the side. Y/N lay bare beneath him, her chest heaving, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.
"So fucking gorgeous,"
Bob's calloused hands began to explore Y/N's newly exposed skin, his fingers tracing the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. He took his time, savoring each curve, each valley, committing every inch of her to memory.
"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed against the shell of her ear before nipping at her earlobe. "You feel what you do to me, baby? How hard you make me? I'm going to fill this tight little pussy so full of my cum. Gonna stuff you so full, you'll be dripping for days."
He punctuated his filthy words with a roll of his hips, grinding his cloth-covered erection against her aching core. Y/N couldn't help but whimper, her back arching off the bed as she sought more of that delicious friction.
"Shhh, not so loud, love," Bob reminded her, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "Remember where we are. We don't want to wake your parents with the sounds of me fucking you senseless."
"Fuck! You’re right." she mumbled, her excitement momentarily fading as Bob reminded her where they were. But it quickly returned when she felt one of his hands slid between their bodies, his fingers finding her slick heat through her panties. Bob could feel the damp patch on Y/N's panties, a testament to her arousal.
"Shit, already so wet for me," he purred, rubbing slow, teasing circles around her clothed clit. "You're practically dripping, baby. Your pussy is begging to be filled, isn't it?"
He captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her whimpers as his fingers pushed the crotch of her panties aside. He ran a single digit through her slick folds, gathering her essence before bringing his finger to his lips.
"God, you taste divine, baby" he groaned quietly.
Bob settled between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing her legs further apart. He placed open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs. Bob was usually pretty neat, but these last few days he had forgotten to shave and his stubble was scraping beautifully against her sensitive skin.
"I'm going to eat this pretty pussy until you're shaking and silent, until you're biting your lip to keep from screaming my name," he promised darkly. Gone was the normally respectful and sweet Bob, and Y/N knew that when that happened it meant a fucking good time.
Bob leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over Y/N's most intimate area, making her shudder with anticipation. He left a tender kiss on her hip before running his tongue along her slit in a slow, savoring lick. Her taste exploded on his tongue, sweet and tangy, and he groaned in appreciation.
He dove in, lapping at her folds like a man starved, his tongue delving between them to stroke along her inner walls. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open, keeping her exposed to his hungry mouth. He focused on her clit, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips, his tongue swirling around it mercilessly.
Y/N's hands fisted in the sheets, her hips rolling desperately against Bob's face as he ate her out. Her breathing grew ragged, panting harshly through clenched teeth to keep her moans to a minimum. The obscene sound of Bob's lips and tongue working her over filled the room, punctuated by his own low groans of pleasure.
Bob's lips and tongue worked Y/N's pussy with a fervor that bordered on reverence. He lapped at her dripping folds, savoring her essence, his tongue delving deep to stroke along her clenching walls. He focused his attention on her throbbing clit, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling it between his lips, his tongue swirling around it mercilessly.
The wet sounds of his mouth working her over filled the room, mingling with Y/N's ragged breathing and muffled whimpers. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against her as she ground her hips desperately against his face, chasing her rapidly approaching orgasm. The coil in her belly wound tighter and tighter, her thighs trembling, her core clenching around nothing.
Just as Y/N teetered on the brink, her body tensing, ready to tumble into ecstasy, Bob pulled back. He sat up shaking his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with lust and a wicked glint.
"Ah, ah, ah. Not yet, baby." Bob whispered hotly, his hand delivering a sharp smack to Y/N's dripping sex, the obscene sound of the impact barely contained by her whimper of surprise and pleasure. He could see how close she was, her body trembling, her chest heaving as she struggled to remain quiet in the darkened guest room. "Not until I'm buried deep inside this needy cunt, want to fill you up, Y/N. I want to breed this tight little pussy until it takes."
With deliberate slowness, Bob peeled off his boxers, his hard, thick cock springing free. He stroked himself once, twice, smearing the bead of pre-cum at the tip with his thumb. Y/N's eyes were riveted to the sight, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“Bob, c'mon, don’t be like that…” She whimpered as she tried to get closer to him.
Bob smirked, a wicked, knowing grin. He knew she was desperate to be filled, to be stretched and claimed and bred.
And he was going to make her work for it.
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Bob brought his fingers to his mouth, the ones he'd used to tease her entrance. He sucked them clean, making a show of it, his tongue swirling around each digit.
“You taste fucking amazing, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rasp.
Bob teased Y/N mercilessly, his fingers circling her entrance, dipping shallowly inside, but never giving her the deep penetration she craved. His cock throbbed, rock hard and leaking, as he watched her squirm and whimper with need. But he held back, determined to make her fall apart with desperation first.
"Please," Y/N mouthed silently, her expression a mix of frustration and raw desire. She reached for him, but Bob caught her wrists, pinning them above her head once more. He claimed her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth, swallowing her needy whines.
Only when Y/N's body was trembling, her eyes glazed with lust, did Bob finally relent. He notched the broad head of his cock against her entrance, the heat of her searing him. Y/N's eyes widened, her breath catching, as she felt him start to push forward.
And then, in one smooth, deep thrust, Bob sheathed himself fully inside her. They both froze, a moment of pure sensation, as her walls fluttered and clenched around him, drawing him in. Her nails dug hard into his shoulders, biting her lips to swallow the moan that wanted to escape her throat at the feeling of Bob buried deep inside her.
But then, overcome with the feeling, Bob began to move.
He savored every inch of Y/N's tight heat as he slowly sheathed himself inside her, a low groan building in his chest. Her walls stretched deliciously around his thick length, welcoming him, hugging him like a velvet glove. He paused for a moment, buried to the hilt, reveling in the exquisite sensation of being one with her.
Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, her back arching slightly as she adjusted to the fullness. She could feel every ridge and vein of Bob's cock as it pulsed inside her, a delicious pressure that made her ache with need. Her nails dug into his lower back, urging him closer, silently begging him to move.
With a deep, shuddering breath, Bob began to withdraw, his hips rolling back in a slow, deliberate motion. He watched, transfixed, as his cock emerged from her glistening folds, only to push back in, deeper this time, stretching her further. He set a steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, grinding against her cervix before pulling back, only to plunge in again.
Bob's eyes were locked onto Y/N's face, watching every play of emotion, every micro-expression.
As Bob continued his deep, deliberate thrusts, Y/N could feel the tension coiling tighter in her core with each pass of his thick cock against her sensitive walls. Her breathing grew more ragged, soft moans and whimpers escaping her lips despite her best efforts to stay quiet. Bob felt her start to tighten around him, her body tensing, and he knew she was close.
With a quick, almost rough motion, he covered Y/N's mouth with his hand, muffling her cries as he picked up his pace. His hips snapped forward, driving into her with short, sharp thrusts, the wet squelch of their coupling filling the room.
"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible," he grunted quietly, his eyes dark and intense as they bored into hers. "So fucking tight, like you were made for my cock. I'm going to fill this cunt so full, you'll be dripping for days."
His dirty talk spurred Y/N on, her body writhing beneath him as she climbed closer to her peak. Her teeth sank into the flesh of his palm as she struggled to keep her moans at bay, her eyes squeezing shut in bliss.
As Y/N's climax approached, Bob's thrusts became more urgent, more demanding. He could feel her walls fluttering around him, gripping his cock like a vice. Sweat dampened his brow from the exertion and the intensity of their fucking.
"That's it, baby," he grunted, his voice a low, passionate rasp. "Fucking take my cock. You’re mine, all mine. I'm going to pump you so full of my cum, breed this hungry little cunt until is full of my babies."
With a sudden, almost feral growl, Bob flipped Y/N onto her hands and knees. He gripped her hips, lifting her ass high, exposing her dripping sex to him. The new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper inside her, the head of his cock kissing her cervix with each powerful thrust.
"Oh god, fuck yes," Y/N whimpered into the pillow, her fingers fisting in the fabric as Bob pounded into her. She could feel every thick inch of him stretching her, filling her so completely. She bit down hard on the pillow, stifling her scream of pleasure as her climax crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Y/N's walls clamped down around Bob's pistoning cock, rippling and fluttering as her orgasm overwhelmed her. Her body convulsed, back arched, as waves of intense pleasure radiated through her. Bob never faltered, driving into her spasming heat with relentless, powerful thrusts, chasing his own release.
"Fuck, just like that," he growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise. "Milk my fucking cock. Take every last drop."
He could feel his own end approaching, his balls tightening, his thrusts growing erratic. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, Bob buried himself to the hilt inside Y/N's quivering core. His cock throbbed, pulsing as it unleashed a torrent of hot, thick seed deep into her womb. He ground against her, stirring his essence inside her as he rode out his climax, ensuring her fertile womb was flooded with his potent sperm.
"Ah, fuck, Y/N," he groaned, low and ragged, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Take it. Fucking take it all."
As the final waves of their shared climax washed over them, Bob gently collapsed forward, covering Y/N's back with his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they both struggled to catch their breath in the aftermath of their passion..
Slowly, tenderly, Bob rolled them onto their sides, spooning Y/N from behind. He brushed her sweat-dampened hair away from her neck, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder and the side of her neck. His hands roamed her body, caressing her skin with a gentler touch now, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips.
"I love you," he whispered, the words heartfelt and sincere.
He helped Y/N lower her hips, both of them shuddering at the sensation of his softening cock slipping free, followed by a gush of their combined fluids. Bob carefully turned Y/N over onto her back, brushing sweat-dampened hair from her face. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, loving kiss, pouring all his passion and affection into the embrace.
They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding each other, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. The room was filled with the intimate sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional soft, sated moan.
"I love you, too," she murmured sweetly after a few seconds, her voice still somewhat shaken. "Just... God, I needed a moment to recover."
Sated and spent, Bob and Y/N clung to each other. The adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins slowly ebbed, replaced by a warm, contented lethargy. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, her body going limp and pliant against Bob's as sleep began to claim her. Bob, too, felt the pull of exhaustion, his limbs heavy and his thoughts slowing. He tightened his embrace around Y/N, spooning her close, his warmth enveloping her. He pressed one last soft kiss to her temple before surrendering to the inevitable, his breathing evening out into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep.
Their naked bodies remained entwined, a tangle of limbs and curves, as they drifted off together in the dimly lit room. The only sounds were the soft, even breaths of their slumber and the distant hum of the house at rest around them. In the quiet of the night, they slept, safe and warm and utterly content in each other's arms.
Hi!! First of, love your writing💕 I can't get enough of your Bob Reynolds series🤭 I saw your requests are open and thought I'd ask you for one about Bob Floyd. Something really simple and corny, the idea is that Bob's under anesthesia or had a concussion, his girlfriend comes to see him, and he's all goofy and blushing for her. Again, I really love your work, and if you don't want to write about it, that's fine!!
Loopy Confessions
Summary: Request above.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem!Reader. Mentions of head injuries/contusion and painkillers. Bob has no filter.
Word count: 2.3k
Authors note: Request done! Hope you really really like it! I had the best time doing this btw, so disgustingly silly. Also, remember guys that the requests are still open.
General masterlist Requests
The fluorescent lights hummed above the curtained-off recovery bay, casting a soft glow over the white sheets and the pale face resting against them. Lieutenant Robert "Bob" Floyd wasn’t used to being the one lying flat on his back, certainly not under the watchful care of medical staff. But the world had a funny way of humbling even the steadiest hands in the sky.
The mission had gone smoothly—at least, until clumsiness and bad luck collided. One moment he’d been climbing out of the cockpit, helmet tucked under his arm, the adrenaline of flight still rushing through him. The next, a slip, a bang, and the kind of pain that sent stars dancing across his vision before everything went black. A concussion, they’d said. Nothing life-threatening, thank God. But he’d been out cold for long enough to worry more than a few people.
Now, blinking awake under the haze of the lingering taste of a cocktail of painkillers, Bob was fighting a losing battle with coherence. The edges of the room blurred when he tried to focus too hard.
The steady beep of a heart monitor, the faint whoosh of the air-conditioning unit, the fluorescent lights above. A nurse quietly checked IV lines and monitors, making notes on her chart. On the bed, Bob blinked his eyes open, disoriented and trying to process his surroundings.
He wasn’t in the cockpit. He wasn’t even in the ready room. The ceiling tiles were all wrong.
"Wha…?" His voice came out gravelly. He tried to sit up, but the dull, heavy ache in his skull reminded him not to. Bob hissed and let himself sink back against the pillows.
"Easy there," the nurse said kindly. "Concussion, remember? You’ve been out for a while. Just rest."
Bob frowned, confusion thick in his brain. "Con…cussion?"
The nurse nodded. "Yeah. You got a pretty good knock. Doctors also had to put you under for some scans and stitches. But you’re fine. You just need time."
Time. He nodded weakly, but already his mind was drifting. Not to jets. Not to numbers or safety procedures. To her.
His girlfriend. His anchor. His favorite person in the whole damn world.
Where was she?
"‘S she coming?" he asked, words slurring together. His pale blue eyes —normally so shy and careful— were wide, frantic, and unfiltered. "Did someone call her? She’s gotta be here. She always comes. She- she likes me, y’know. Loves me."
The nurse bit back a smile. She’d seen this before: painkillers this strong could do funny things to people. "Yes, Lieutenant. She’s on her way."
"Good." Bob grinned, doped up and dreamy. "She’s so pretty. Prettiest girl in the world. Bet you don’t even believe me. But wait ‘til you see her. You’ll be like, ‘Wow, that quiet little guy pulled her?’"
Words slipped from his tongue without permission, and his own laugh sounded strange in his ears—too giddy, too loose. It wasn’t like him at all.
He chuckled, his voice louder than usual. "And I’ll say, ‘Yup. That’s my girl.’"
The nurse shook her head fondly and turned to leave. "You should rest your voice, Lieutenant."
But Bob didn’t rest. He had too much to say.
The door creaked open a little later, and in stepped a woman in a flight suit. She was carrying her helmet tucked under one arm. Her boots clicked softly against the linoleum. Her gaze darted immediately to the bed.
"Bobby."
His head lolled toward the sound of her voice, and instantly, his whole face lit up. The goofy, uninhibited grin that spread across his face was unlike anything the usually bashful Bob would dare in public.
"There she is!" he announced loudly, throwing one hand into the air like he was introducing royalty. "That’s Y/N! My girl! Look at her-look at that! Isn’t she the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen?"
The nurse chuckled as she slipped out, leaving the couple alone. Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his uncharacteristic volume, but then she smiled warmly.
"Hey, babe," she said, setting her helmet down and moving closer. "Heard you scared everyone half to death while I was in the sky."
Her voice was loaded with the warmth of a safe landing after a storm. His girlfriend. Whether or not she was in uniform beside him in the skies, she was a constant in the hangars and the quiet spaces in between. In this moment, though, all Bob could process was that she was here. She was real. And she was beautiful.
"You-oh wow," he murmured, voice dreamy. "You’re… ’re so pretty. Did I do something good? ‘Cause you’re, like, my prize, right?"
She bit her lip to keep from laughing, stepping closer to the bed. "No prizes, Lieutenant. Just came to see how you’re doing."
Bob turned his head slightly on the pillow, squinting at her as though she might vanish if he looked away too fast. His cheeks flushed crimson, the tips of his ears burning hot beneath his messy hair.
"I think… I think I might be in heaven," he whispered, his words slurred with both sincerity and the fog of drugs. "’Cause you’re an angel. My angel."
Her heart twisted, tender and amused all at once. She reached for his hand, carefully threading her fingers through his. He sighed contentedly at the contact, thumb brushing lazily over her knuckles like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She laughed, brushing hair out of his face gently. "You’re loopy."
"I’m being honest!" Bob declared, pointing at her like he’d just won an argument. "I usually get all… Quiet ‘n awkward. But not right now. Nope. Right now? I wanna say what I really think. Which is: you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And also…"
He trailed off dramatically, staring up at her with wide, worshipful eyes. He blinked at her, his usually sharp blue eyes hazy and unfocused, though a grin tugged at his lips.
"I wanna marry you someday."
Her eyes widened. She froze, her hand still cupping his jaw.
"Bob…"
He blinked, then grinned dopily. "Guess I ruined the surprise, huh?"
"What? You already have a ring?" She joked, but he just shrugged. She let out a shaky laugh, her heart fluttering. "You’re really something else right now."
Bob just leaned toward her, gaze locked like she was the only person in the universe.
"Something else? I’ll tell you what you are. You’re-" He stared at her, trying to decide which of the many words of love he had to define her would be the best. "everything."
Y/N ran a hand through her hair again, caressing it gently, as if that way she could take away all the pain. Oh, how she wished she wasn't in that position right now. But she wasn't going to complain about Bob telling her he wanted to marry her either.
With a sigh, Y/N lowered her hand, intertwining it with Bob's, still a little lost.
"You gave us a scare, Bob," she said gently, her thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. "Banged your head pretty good."
"Mm. Yeah. Felt it." He chuckled softly, though his laugh wavered. "But it’s okay now. You’re here. And when you’re here, everything’s okay."
His words spilled out like honey, thick and sweet and entirely unfiltered. Normally, Bob was careful, measured in his words, shy in his affections unless they were behind closed doors. But right now, his inhibitions were stripped bare by the lingering drugs, leaving nothing but raw adoration on display.
She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her palm lingering against his warm skin.
"You’re kind of out of it," she teased softly. "You’re going to regret all this sweet talking when you wake up properly."
Bob shook his head weakly, his lips quirking.
"Nope. Not regret. Never regret you." He tightened his hold on her hand as though she might slip away. "I should… I should tell you more. All the time. That I’m lucky. So lucky. Do you know that?"
Her chest ached, and she bent down to press a kiss to his temple. "I know, Bob. But it’s still nice to hear."
His eyes fluttered shut briefly, and he smiled like a man utterly at peace.
"You're better than flying," he whispered, his words barely audible. "And I love flying."
She laughed softly, her forehead resting against his. "You’re going to make me cry."
Bob’s eyes opened again, blue and dazed, but locked on hers like she was his only fixed point. "Don’t cry. Smile. Please? I like it when you smile. Makes me feel… like I’m not so invisible."
"You’re not invisible, Bob," she said firmly, her throat tightening. "Not to me."
But he shook his head slightly, stubborn even in his haze.
"You see me. Really see me. Even when I don’t say much. Even when I… hide in the back. You still see me. That’s why I…" He trailed off, lips trembling between a grin and a confession. "That’s why I love you."
The words hung in the air, heavy and light all at once. He hadn’t said them before, not quite like this. There had been hints, unspoken in the way he looked at her, the way he lingered when they kissed. But hearing it, raw and unguarded, was something else entirely.
She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes burning as she searched his.
"I love you too, Bob. More than you know."
His smile widened, boyish and dazzling despite the IV in his arm and the bandage against his temple. "Really? You do? Oh man… Best day ever."
She couldn’t help but laugh, kissing him softly before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes again.
"Best day ever," she agreed. "Although it would be even better without the blow to the head."
Outside the room, a few of the Daggers had gathered. Phoenix, Coyote and Hangman had gone there to check in on Bob. They lingered near the cracked-open door, listening.
Phoenix raised her brows. "Since when does Bob talk like that?"
"Since he got concussed, apparently," Coyote said with a grin.
Hangman smirked. "Well, well, looks like Baby on board has a romantic side. Loud one, too."
Inside, Bob continued without any awareness that his teammates were eavesdropping.
"Y’know," he said, voice dropping into an exaggerated whisper that still carried, "I love you... But I love your butt. Best butt in the Navy. Don’t tell anyone, though. Secret."
"Oh God! Bob!" Y/N scolded him, looking around to check that no one was there, even if they were the only people there.
He tapped his finger to his lips, utterly serious, before breaking into giggles.
Outside, Phoenix covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Coyote nearly choked trying not to burst out.
Hangman leaned against the wall, smirking wickedly. "Oh, this is gold man."
But if Bob noticed the laughter at the door, he gave no sign. His focus was entirely on his girl, his expression open and unguarded in a way it rarely was when he was fully lucid.
"You’re my favorite person in the world." he murmured, softer now, almost childlike. "like I love my momma and my whole family, but you're... You're my favorite."
Her throat tightened. She smoothed his hair back gently. "I love you too, Bob."
"So pretty." He beamed so hard it was almost comical. "And all mine."
Then his eyes fluttered, the exhaustion finally winning. His hand found hers, clinging loosely, even as sleep pulled him under again.
A couple minutes later, after the nurses had shooed her out to let him rest, she found herself in the hallway— only to discover Phoenix, Coyote, and Hangman lounging there, smirks plastered on their faces.
"So, he's good?" Phoenix started carefully. "Was pretty talkative for we can say."
Y/N's cheeks heated. "You heard all that?"
"Every word." Coyote chuckled.
Hangman grinned like a devil. "Congratulations. You’ve apparently got the best butt in the Navy"
"Don’t you dare give him a hard time about it." She threatened the three of them, but her smile almost betrayed her.
"Oh, don’t worry," Hangman said, clearly planning to do just that. "Would never do that."
Phoenix elbowed him. "Lay off. He deserves a break."
But as they walked away, her heart swelled with warmth. Bob might have been loopy and unfiltered, but everything he’d said had come from somewhere deep and true.
And she wouldn’t trade that glimpse into his heart for anything.
Bob had stayed overnight for a check-up, and when he finally woke the next morning, the haze was gone. His head still throbbed, but his thoughts were clearer. He blinked groggily and found Y/N sitting in the chair beside him, reading some files, her hair tied back in a tight bun.
"Hey," he rasped.
She looked up, smiling softly. "Hey, sleepyhead."
Memories flickered at the edge of his brain, hazy and incomplete. "Did I… Say anything…Weird last night?"
She shut the file in her hand, her expression amused and tender all at once. "Oh, nothing too weird. Just… A lot of truths that you, I suppose, usually keep to yourself."
Bob’s ears turned red instantly.
"Oh yeah." she teased. "But don’t worry. I loved every second of it."
He groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Please tell me I didn’t embarrass you."
"You didn’t." She leaned forward, prying his hand away gently. "You made me fall in love with you even more."
Bob’s blush deepened, but his shy smile crept through. "Really?"
"Really. Even if it was that loopy, silly version of you... Although I never want to see it again if it means you staying away from head injuries. "
For once, he didn’t hide. He let the silence settle comfortably, her hand finding his once more. This time, he was awake, aware, and fully present. And though he was quieter than his concussed self, he still whispered:
Summary: Y/N was excited to try her new bed, although that happened sooner than she thought. Now the question is whether Bob is actually good at building beds.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem! Reader. Short tempered reader. Readers body not specified, only mentioned that she is shorter than Bob. +18. Smut. Oral (fem receiver). P in V (wrap it up guys). Switch!Bob/Dom!Bob and Switch!Reader/Sub!Reader. Dirty talking.
Word count: 6.1k
Authors note: Most of this is just smut, it's just me getting ready for October *wink wink*. Also, to be a pilot in the Navy you have to be at least 5'2 feet/1.57m tall, I think, if you want to keep that in mind for reader height. Anyway, I hope you like it guys!
Series General Masterlist Requests
Y/N had joked about it the moment Bob tightened the last bolt.
“Guess we’ll see if this thing holds up when I actually sleep on it,” she had said, stretching out on the brand-new mattress with exaggerated relief.
Bob, ever the meticulous one, had nodded and said something about structural integrity, but the way his eyes flicked toward her betrayed a different thought entirely.
Not even an hour later, that thought wasn’t theoretical anymore.
The bed, however, wasn’t as trustworthy as Bob.
They hadn’t meant for it to happen, not really. One moment they were kissing on the couch, laughter bubbling between them, and the next they were in her room, the new mattress still smelling faintly of factory plastic, the bed frame gleaming under the lamp. Y/N shoved him down onto it, climbing over him with a grin.
“Hope you built this thing sturdy,” she teased, straddling in his lap. She could feel his growing arousal through their clothing, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
“Guess we’ll find out.” Bob, cheeks scarlet but smiling, leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire into the passionate embrace.
Bob’s hands gripped her hips, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to dance with hers. The kiss was electric, igniting a fire that raced through their veins, consuming them in its intensity.
Y/N’s fingers tangled in Bob’s tidy hair, tugging lightly as she ground her hips against his, seeking friction, craving more of that delicious pressure. Bob groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking to meet hers, the evidence of his desire growing more insistent with each passing second.
Breaking the kiss, Y/N trailed her lips along Bob’s jaw, down his neck, her teeth grazing his pulse point. She could feel it racing beneath her touch, matching the pounding of her own heart.
“Y/N-” Bob growled, his hands gripping her pants tightly, trying to hold on to the last shred of sanity.
Y/N’s hands slid under his shirt, her fingers splaying across his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the firmness of his muscles. She was pleasantly surprised by this, she knew that by the simple fact of being in the navy he must be fit, but she never thought that this would be the case. Mentally cursing all the times at the beach or when Mav made them do push-ups and she had to put up with seeing everyone else shirtless and not him —fuck his modesty, really– she pushed the fabric up and off, breaking the kiss just long enough to remove it, before diving back in, her lips now blazing a trail down his newly exposed torso.
Bob shuddered under her touch, his own hands roaming her back, slipping under her shirt to caress the soft skin beneath. He tugged at her shirt, a silent plea for more, for her to remove the barriers between them. Y/N obliged, reaching back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away as she shrugged off her shirt.
Naked from the waist up, she pressed herself against him, the feel of skin on skin sending a jolt of pleasure through them both. Bob's hands cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples into hardened peaks as they kissed with a fervor bordering on desperation.
The world narrowed down to the point where their bodies met, to the slide of lips and tongues, to the dance of fingers on heated flesh. The rest of their clothing began to feel like an unwelcome intrusion, an obstacle to the ultimate goal.
Y/N reached for the hem of Bob's jeans, popping the button and lowering the zipper with deliberate slowness, teasing them both. Bob's breath hitched as she slipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around his hard length, stroking him through the fabric of his boxers. He bucked into her touch, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he arched into her hand. Y/N smirked, enjoying the power she had over him, the way she could unravel him with just a touch. But she wanted more, needed to feel all of him.
"Y/N, may I... May I take control for a moment? I wanna taste you," Bob asked, his voice low and thick with desire, even as he seemed to be holding himself back, seeking her consent first.
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes dark and hazy with lust, a small smile playing on her kiss-swollen lips, and nodded. Bob's eyes darkened with lust as he flipped their positions, gently laying Y/N down on the bed and hovering over her. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her lower lip, seeking her consent.
“You sure? I need to know it's okay," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
Y/N bit her lip and nodded, a breathy "Yes, please" falling from her lips.
That was all the encouragement Bob needed. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss as his hands slid under her back, arching her towards him. His mouth trailed from her lips, down her neck, where he began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. He had to adjust their position, moving them towards the center of the bed to balance her weight. Y/N let out a surprised gasp that turned into a moan as Bob's mouth descended upon her neck.
Bob's lips felt like a brand against Y/N's skin as he lavished attention on her neck and collarbone, suckling and nipping, determined to mark her as his. He could feel her pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips, could hear the desperate little whimpers escaping her as he worked his way down her body.
His hands slid under her ass, squeezing it as he ground himself against her, letting her feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as she arched into his touch, craving more of that delicious friction.
"Oh god, Bob..." she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her as he worked her neck with his tongue and teeth. He seemed to know exactly what she needed, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, teasing bites. All while continuing to rub against her.
Bob's mouth trailed lower, his tongue swirling around one hardened nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. His hand came up to tease the other, rolling and pinching the sensitive peak, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
Impatiently, he tugged at her jeans, urging her to lift her hips so he could yank them off. Y/N complied eagerly, lifting her hips and letting him strip her lower half bare. But Bob wasn't satisfied yet, not by a long shot. His hands slid up Y/N's thighs, pushing them apart as he settled between them, her legs now draped over his shoulders as he knelt on the bed. He could smell her arousal, could see the damp patch darkening her panties.
Bob's eyes darkened with hunger as he took in the sight of Y/N splayed out beneath him, clad in nothing but a pair of damp panties. He could smell her arousal, could see the evidence of it on the thin fabric stretched across her mound. Slowly, teasingly, he ran a finger along the damp fabric, feeling the heat of her through the barrier.
"So wet for me already," he murmured, his voice a low, appreciative growl.
He leaned in, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on her clothed sex, his tongue pressing flat against her and dragging up to her clit, which he circled with the tip teasingly.
"Oh god, Bob," she gasped, her head thrown back, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. You’re so hot… So intoxicating." He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh, making her shudder.
Hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties, Bob slowly peeled them down Y/N's legs, his eyes never leaving her exposed center. He could see her glistening folds, hear the needy whimper that escaped her as cool air hit her heated flesh. Tossing her panties aside, discarded on the floor near the bed, he settled between her thighs again, his hands gripping her hips as he looked up at her with a wicked grin.
"I'm going to devour you until you're screaming my name," he promised darkly, before diving in, his tongue delving between her slick folds in a long, slow lick.
Bob's tongue swirled around her clit, flicking the sensitive bud as he explored her depths with a fervor that left Y/N writhing beneath him. He groaned against her flesh, the vibrations adding to her pleasure as he suckled and licked, determined to drive her to the brink of ecstasy. His hands gripped her thighs, pushing them further apart as he feasted on her, his tongue delving deep to taste her essence. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as she ground her hips against his face, chasing her rapidly building pleasure.
"Don't stop, please… " Her words ended in a moan as he sucked her clit between his lips, flicking it mercilessly with his tongue. “Don't you dare to stop!”
Bob could feel Y/N's thighs trembling around his head, hear the desperation in her voice, see the way her body tensed and coiled, ready to snap. He doubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep, swirling around her entrance, teasing her, tasting her, savoring the way her essence flooded his mouth.
Bob felt a deep sense of twisted pride and exhilaration seeing Y/N like this. The fiery, outspoken woman he knew reduced to a quivering, pleading mess beneath his touch. Her usual sharp tongue and defiant spirit were nowhere to be found, replaced by breathy moans and desperate pleas for more of his attention. It was intoxicating, knowing that he could unravel her so completely.
He took his time exploring her, savoring every inch of her slick heat. His tongue delved between her folds, stroking along her inner walls, relishing the way they fluttered and clenched around him.
He could feel her clit throbbing against his lips, could taste her arousal spiking as he pushed her closer to the edge. Releasing her sensitive nub with a final, hard suck, he plunged two fingers deep into her tight channel, curling them just right as he pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue.
"Come for me, Y/N," he growled against her flesh, his voice vibrating through her. "Please, I want to feel you, want to taste your pleasure as you let go."
He sealed his lips around her clit, suckling hard as he thrust his fingers deep inside her, curling them to hit that sensitive spot that made her see stars.
He could feel her getting closer, her thighs starting to tremble, her grip on his hair tightening.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured against her flesh, his voice rumbling through her. "Let go for me. Wanna feel you come apart on my tongue."
Those words, the vibration of his voice on her clit, his breath hitting her flesh, was all it took for her to fall over the cliff. Y/N's back arched off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashed over her, his name falling from her lips like a mantra.
The sight of Y/N coming undone, her body writhing with pleasure, back arched beautifully, was seared into Bob's mind. He continued his assault slowly, fingers pumping in and out with laziness, tongue flicking and swirling calmly, drawing out her climax until she collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting.
Bob crawled up her body, peppering kisses along the way, in her thighs, in her belly, pausing to lavish attention on her breasts, kissing the hickeys that were starting to take on a more burgundy color than a reddish one. He could feel her heart pounding, her skin flushed and dewy with sweat. She was utterly gorgeous, lost in the aftermath of her intense orgasm.
Reaching her lips, he kissed her deep but softly, letting her taste herself on his tongue. His knee nudged her thighs apart, and he positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging her slick folds. He broke the kiss to look into her eyes, his own dark with desire and something softer, more tender.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion and need, wrapped in deep concern for her. "You wanna keep going? You feeling okay?"
Bob gazed down at Y/N, his expression soft and tender, even as desire darkened his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a gentle touch. His voice was low and concerned, always prioritizing her comfort and consent.
Y/N, still basking in the afterglow, looked up at him with hazy, content eyes. A small, satisfied smile played on her lips. She nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek.
"Please, Bob. I want you, all of you." She whispered, her thumb brushing over his lower lip. "I need to feel you inside me, filling me up."
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, aligning their bodies intimately. Bob's heart swelled at her words, at the trust and desire he saw in her eyes.
"I'll take care of you, sweetheart. I promise," he murmured, before slowly, carefully, he began to push inside her, inch by inch, allowing her to adjust to his size.
Bob entered Y/N with deliberate slowness, savoring every tight, wet inch of her as he filled her up. He could feel her stretching around him, her inner muscles fluttering and clenching, trying to draw him deeper. It was exquisite, the feeling of being enveloped in her heat, surrounded by her softness.
"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his forehead coming to rest against hers as he bottomed out, fully sheathed inside her. "You feel incredible, so perfect around me."
He stayed still for a moment, just basking in the sensation, letting her get used to his size before he started to move.
Y/N let out a soft gasp as Bob filled her completely, her eyes widening in surprise. She had expected him to be well-endowed, despite the way he carried himself, he just had that big dick energy. But the reality was even more impressive than she had imagined. She could feel every thick inch of him stretching her, reaching depths she hadn't known she had.
"Gosh, Bob," She breathed, a hint of awe in her voice. She tightened her legs around him, tilting her hips slightly to take him even deeper. "You're... Fuck... It feels amazing."
Bob chuckled softly, a smug but affectionate sound, as he felt Y/N adjust to his size. Slowly, he began to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in, setting a steady, gentle rhythm.
"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart. I want to fill you up so good, make you feel so full and stretched and satisfied," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. His hands slid under her ass, tilting her hips to change the angle of his thrusts, letting him hit that special spot inside her with each deep stroke. "You take me so well, sweetheart. Like you were made for my cock."
He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, grinding against her clit.
Bob continued his steady, gentle thrusts, savoring the feeling of Y/N's tight heat surrounding him. He could feel her getting more comfortable, her hips starting to rock in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust. His hands roamed her body, caressing every curve, every dip, every mark, mapping out her soft skin.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N." he praised softly, his eyes locked with hers. "Love seeing you like this, taking everything I give you."
He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, tangling with hers. As he kissed her, he picked up the pace of his thrusts, slowly but surely building in intensity, his hips snapping against hers with a delicious, rhythmic sound. The room filled with their shared moans and the creaking of the bed, a symphony of their lovemaking.
Y/N was a moaning, writhing mess beneath Bob, her nails raking down his back as he filled her over and over.
"Fuck!" She panted, her voice high and breathy with pleasure. "So good..."
She arched her back, pushing her breasts towards him in an unconscious silent plea for attention. Bob obliged, ducking his head to capture one hardened nipple in his mouth, suckling and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.
His hands gripped her hips, pulling her harder against him with each powerful thrust. The new angle had him hitting that perfect spot inside her with every stroke, making Y/N see stars.
"Yes, right there!" She cried out, her head thrashing on the pillow, her hair a wild halo around her face. "Don't stop, please!"
Bob growled against her skin, the sound vibrating through her. He could feel her getting tighter, her inner muscles starting to flutter around him. He knew she was close.
"C'mon, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice a low, rough rumble.
Y/N suddenly placed her hands on Bob's chest, stopping his movements. Bob's eyes widened in concern, a flicker of worry crossing his face. He immediately stilled, his hips freezing mid-thrust.
"Y/N? 's everything alright? Did I do something?" he asked, his voice laced with worry, the urge to continue his deep strokes inside her was completely ignored.
Y/N snorted slightly at his concern, her heart warming at how sweet he was, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief and desire.
"No, Bob, you're doing amazing. I just want to change things up a bit." She purred, before gently pushing on his chest, encouraging him to lie back.
Bob complied, a intrigued smirk playing on his lips as he watched her maneuver on top of him. She slowly lifted herself off him, only to realign and sink back down, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. A low moan escaped her at the new position, the feeling of him so deep inside her.
She gasped, bracing her hands on his chest as she began to move. She started slow, savoring the sensation, rolling her hips in a testing grind, trying to find the perfect way to move as she adjusted to how deep Bob was going inside her in that position.
Soon she found a rhythm, lifting up until just the tip remained inside her, before slamming back down, taking him into the base. Her breasts bounced with each movement, drawing Bob's hungry gaze.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements.
Y/N rode him with wild abandon, her hips undulating in a sensual dance as she took her pleasure from him. Bob's hands roamed her body, squeezing her ass, caressing her sides, cupping her breasts, encouraging her movements. He could feel her getting tighter, her moans growing louder and more desperate as she chased her release.
"That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice strained with his own rapidly building pleasure. "Take what you need. Use me, fuck yourself on my cock. You feel so fucking good."
Y/N leaned forward, changing the angle of her thrusts. She cried out as Bob hit that perfect spot inside her with every drive of her hips.
"Yes, right there! God, I'm so close," she panted, her nails digging into his chest.
Bob could feel his own climax approaching, but he was determined to make her come first. He reached down, finding her clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub with his thumb.
"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. "I want to feel you come apart on my cock, sweetheart. Please."
Y/N's body tensed, her inner muscles clamping down on Bob as his words and touch pushed her over the edge. She threw her head back, a scream of ecstasy tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her.
"Bob!" she cried out, her hips jerking and stuttering as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure.
The feeling of her coming undone, her pussy fluttering and milking his cock, was too much for Bob. With a final, hard thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and let go, his own climax overtaking him.
"Fuck! Y/N!" He roared, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside her, filling her with his hot, thick seed.
They clung to each other, lost in the throes of their shared passion, their bodies moving in tandem as they rode out the aftershocks of their intense encounter. Finally, spent and satiated, Y/N collapsed on top of him, her head resting on his chest. Bob wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, stroking her hair as their breathing gradually slowed.
"That was-"
Bob could not continue because a sudden, sharp crack filled the room. The newly purchased bed, unable to withstand the intensity of their activities, gave way on one side. The frame splintered, one of the wooden support slats snapped under the strain, causing the bed to tilt dramatically.
"Whoa!" Y/N yelped, as the bed tilted abruptly, sending them both sliding towards the broken side.
As the bed tilted and cracked, Bob reacted swiftly, his protective instincts kicking in. He rolled to take the brunt of the impact, shielding Y/N from the broken furniture. They landed in a tangle of limbs on the slanted mattress, gasping in shock.
"Y/N, are you alright?" He asked, his voice filled with concern as he quickly assessed her for any signs of injury. He knew the bed was a lost cause, his only thought was for her safety and well-being.
Y/N, on the other hand, was seeing red. Her short temper, always simmering just beneath the surface, flared to life at the sight of her new, broken bed.
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" She snapped, wriggling out of Bob's arms and storming over to the ruined furniture. She kicked at a broken beam, cursing under her breath. "I just bought this fucking bed! It was supposed to last, not break in half the first time someone uses it properly!"
She whirled around to face Bob, her eyes flashing with anger and frustration.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now? Sleep on the floor again? Damnit!"
Bob held up his hands in a placating gesture, taking a step back from Y/N's wrath. He knew that look, that tone. He'd seen it before, usually directed at inanimate objects or Jake. It was best to let her vent, to get it all out, before trying to reason with her.
"I know you're upset, Y/N. This is frustrating as hell," he said, his voice calm and even. "But getting angry at the broken bed isn't going to fix it. We need to figure out a solution, not place blame."
He got out of bed and took a tentative step towards her, his hands outstretched in a peace offering, as if he were approaching a scared little animal... Actually a very, very angry one.
"I'm sorry about your bed, really. But I'm more concerned about you. Are you hurt?"
Y/N's anger seemed to deflate a bit at Bob's calm and concerned demeanor. She sighed heavily, running a hand through her disheveled hair.
"No, I'm not hurt. Just... Really fuckin' pissed," she muttered, staring at a broken piece of the bed frame. "And now I'm going to have to sleep on the floor or the couch, because apparently my new stupid bed can't handle a little action."
He took a deep breath, considering their options. She looked up at him, her eyes still flashing but her voice softening.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know it's not your fault. I'm just... Pent up energy and no place to sleep it off." A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"Look, you're more than welcome to stay in my place tonight, sleep on something stable."
Y/N considered Bob's offer, but hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, biting her lower lip as she thought.
"Bob, I... I appreciate the offer, really. But what do I say to Nat?" She trailed off, glancing away, a light blush coloring her cheeks.
They both knew what she meant. They had just slept together for the first time and didn't want it to become everyone's problem. Because they knew that even if Nat kept it a secret, one way or another the others would find out.
The situation was already sensitive enough without Y/N spending the night at Bob's and the rest of the team finding out.
"She would ask questions. Questions I'm not really equipped to answer right now," Y/N continued, her voice soft but resolute. "It's not that I don't want to, because god knows I do. But it would be... I don't know. We're friends, this just happened... I need some time to process before I go announcing it to the world."
Bob nodded, understanding her position completely. He respected her need for discretion and time to process their new situation. He didn't want to imagine how awkward it would be for them to explain why Y/N was spending the night at his place to Nat, especially given that their unspecified status was still fresh and unspoken.
"Yeah, right. Totally get it, Y/N. Completely," he said, his voice warm with understanding. "We don't need to rush into anything or make any grand announcements..."
Y/N watched, her mind racing but her mouth wordless, as she bent down to pick up her shirt and carefully slipped it on, watching Bob quickly copy her actions and pull on his pants. With a dramatic sigh, Y/N dragged the mattress out of the wreckage, trying to lift it and place it on the floor.
"Help me?" she asked, looking at him.
Bob immediately set about helping, lifting the mattress like it weighed nothing, guiding it into place with his usual careful efficiency. He crouched to pick up a rogue piece of wood, already inspecting the break with furrowed brows.
“Uh… Bob the Builder,” Y/N called, throwing some blankets and pillows on the mattress. “What are you doing?”
“Checking the damage.” His tone was almost apologetic, trying to ignore the nickname. “I should’ve double-checked the joints. Maybe if I—”
“Fuck, why me?” Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes. She reached for the nearest pillow and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, laughing under his breath. “Just leave that and come here.”
He hesitated, screw still in hand.
“Bob,” she warned. “I mean it. Put that down. Bed’s dead. Mattress is fine. And we have approximately, like, an hour before Nat barges in here and ruins the peace.”
That got his attention. Slowly, reluctantly, he set the screw and wood aside, straightening to his full height.
“Good boy. Now come sit before I lose what little patience I could muster.” Y/N patted the mattress.
He sat, a sheepish smile breaking through, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. Habit. I don’t like leaving things half-finished.”
“Well, now you’re going to have to,” Y/N said, sliding beside him.
The two of them collapsed onto the mattress, side by side, staring at the ceiling. The broken frame loomed against the wall like a crime scene, pieces of wood and bolts scattered in a messy circle. Y/N stretched her arms overhead, letting out a satisfied groan.
“You know what? Worth it,” she declared.
Bob turned his head toward her, incredulous. “We destroyed your brand-new bed, and you’re saying it was worth it?”
“Bob,” she said, rolling to face him. “It had a warranty. I’ll call tomorrow, tell them it collapsed as soon as I sat on it, and boom! I get credit. Free upgrade.”
He frowned. “That feels a little dishonest.”
“I’m not lying. It did collapse when I sat on it.” Y/N poked his chest, grinning. “I'm just not specifying what I sat on.”
Bob shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. He couldn't hold it in and laughed, low and reluctant, but real. Y/N grinned in triumph, scooting closer until her head rested against his chest. Bob’s arm came around her automatically, his touch warm and steady even as he tried to hide how flustered he was. Y/N could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath her cheek, faster than usual, as though he still hadn’t come down from the chaos of the last half-hour.
“You’re smug,” she accused, tilting her head up to look at him.
He blinked. “I am not.”
“Oh, you so are. You’ve got this look. Half embarrassed, half pleased with yourself.”
Bob turned pink to the tips of his ears.
“That’s not-” He cut himself off, sighing. “Maybe a little.”
Y/N laughed, delighted. “Knew it.”
He shook his head at her, glasses slightly askew, and for a moment she thought he might retreat back into that quiet shell of his. But instead, he tightened his arm around her, drawing her closer.
“You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” she said, settling against him. “But you like it.”
He didn’t deny it.
The mattress wasn’t much to look at, dumped right on the floor with sheets and blankets tugged hastily across it, but for Y/N it felt like heaven. For the first time in weeks, she was horizontal on something resembling a real bed, and more importantly, she had Bob Floyd stretched out beside her. Her head rested against his shoulder, his arm looped protectively around her waist, and she couldn’t help the small, satisfied hum that slipped from her lips.
She hadn’t expected Bob to be like this afterward. If you’d asked her yesterday, Y/N would have guessed he’d be shy, maybe awkward, unsure of what to do with himself; but completely at his partner disposal, cause he was just that type of person. Instead, she discovered that Bob was, against all odds, a cuddler. A full-on, no-reservations, warm-and-solid presence who fit against her as though the space between them had been carved just for him. He brushed his thumb absentmindedly against her hip, his touch unselfconscious in a way that made her chest ache.
“You’re full of surprises, Floyd,” she murmured into the quiet.
Bob turned his head, his glasses slightly askew, hair messier than she’d ever seen it. “Surprises?”
“Yeah.” She tilted her face up toward him, smirking. “Didn’t think you were the clingy type.”
His ears flushed red instantly, but his arm didn’t move. If anything, he pulled her closer.
“I just… Like this. Being close.”
Her heart twisted in a way she didn’t care to examine. She brushed it off with a teasing grin. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t mind being clung to.”
They both laughed softly, the kind of laughter that belonged only to them, private and fleeting. For a while, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. Just the two of them in their ridiculous bubble, wrapped in warmth and quiet.
The spell broke when Y/N’s ears caught something faint but familiar: the unmistakable rattle of keys in the front door.
She shot upright so fast she nearly knocked Bob in the jaw. “Crap.”
Bob blinked at her, dazed. “What?”
“Nat,” Y/N hissed, already scrambling for her clothes. “She’s home.”
For a man trained to react under pressure, Bob looked comically unprepared. He fumbled for his shirt, tugging it on backward before Y/N reached over and yanked it off him again.
“Other way, genius.”
“I usually don’t have to dress at combat speed,” he muttered, ears flaming.
Y/N, who was wandering around the room trying to find something to wear, looked at him in confusion. "You're literally in the Navy! You should be prepared."
She shoved her legs into sweatpants and yanked her hair into a messy bun, all while trying to suppress the nervous laughter bubbling up in her chest. The mattress creaked as Bob hurriedly tucked his shirt in properly, his glasses sliding down his nose as though mocking his frantic state.
By the time Natasha’s footsteps reached the hallway, Y/N and Bob were sitting on the edge of the mattress, hair still damp with sweat but otherwise presentable, as if nothing monumental had happened an hour ago.
Natasha pushed Y/N’ door open with her usual confidence, eyebrows lifting the moment she spotted the wreckage of the bed frame against the wall.
“What the hell happened here?”
Y/N didn’t flinch. She leaned back on her hands, cool as could be. “It came like that.”
Nat’s eyes narrowed. “Like that?”
“Yep,” Y/N said, nodding earnestly. “Straight out of the box. We tried to salvage it, Bob even gave it a shot, but it was a lost cause. Absolute trash.”
Beside her, Bob nodded along, though the tips of his ears betrayed his nerves. “Yeah. Pretty bad quality. Nothing we could do.”
Natasha eyed them both suspiciously, then glanced at the neat stacks of screws and bolts Bob had collected earlier.
"And you didn't collapse like the bed?" she asked, looking carefully at Y/N, who seemed pretty calm in a situation where she'd at least be kicking the broken bed and threatening to unleash hell on Ikea.
Y/N shrugged, not knowing what to say. Bob, behind her, mouthed to Nat, "She did kick the bed."
Nat nodded and crossed the room, giving the broken bed one last glance before plopping herself down on the edge of the mattress. “You guys eaten yet? I was gonna throw something together for dinner.”
Y/N’ stomach dropped. She opened her mouth to answer, but Bob was already standing, smoothing the front of his shirt.
“I should probably head out. Don’t want to intrude.”
Nat tilted her head, eyeing him. “It’s not intruding. You helped Y/N today, right? Stay. We’ve got enough food.”
Bob hesitated, clearly torn between politeness and the sudden, pressing need to flee. Y/N jumped in quickly. “He’s got stuff to do, Nat. Next time.”
Nat shrugged, apparently unconcerned.
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna shower before I cook.” She pushed to her feet, heading toward her room. “Try not to break anything else while I’m gone.”
Y/N giggled, her mind twisting Natasha's words with amusement. Bob, for his part, thought he had never blushed so much as that day.
The moment Nat’s door clicked shut, Y/N rounded on Bob.
“Leaving already?” she whispered, her grin mischievous.
Bob adjusted his glasses, looking both guilty and reluctant.
“It’s safer if I do. She’s not stupid. She’ll put it together.”
“She’ll put it together eventually,” Y/N countered, stepping closer until she was standing right in front of him. Standing on her tiptoes, she left a kiss on his jaw. “Might as well make it worth the risk.”
He swallowed hard, and Y/N caught the flicker of hesitation before his resolve cracked. When she slid her hands up his chest and tugged him down, he went willingly, their mouths meeting in a kiss that was softer than the ones earlier but no less charged.
It wasn’t the frantic heat of before. This was different. Lingering, savoring, a quiet rebellion against the world outside their bubble. Bob’s hands settled at her waist, anchoring her as if he had no intention of letting go.
They kissed until Y/N heard the faint rush of water through the pipes, Nat’s shower running in the other room. With a reluctant laugh, she pulled back, breathless.
“Go. Before she comes out and catch us in a worse situation.”
Bob pressed one last kiss to her temple, his voice low. “See you tomorrow?”
“Count on it,” she whispered.
And just like that, he slipped out the door, leaving Y/N standing in the middle of her room with her hair messy, her bed broken, and a grin she couldn’t quite wipe from her face.
Summary: Y/N reluctantly agrees to go to the party, but the night doesn't end as she expects.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem!Reader. SMUT! MINORS DNI 18+. Fingering. Unprotected sex (use protection, this is fiction and here people don't get pregnant). P in V. Pretty light if I'm honest. If I forget any, let me know!
Word count: 9k
Authors note: I lost everything I had written when I finished it -shout out to my friend Alan and his IT degree for getting it back-, when I got it back I lost the ending, so I had to rewrite it and I'm not satisfied with that. Also, This is just me practicing my +18 writing.
General Masterlist pt.1 Requests
Y/N had told herself a dozen times during the rest of the week that she probably wasn’t going to go to the party.
And yet, here she was on Saturday night, standing just outside the front porch of the Kappa Nu Alpha house, flanked by Priya in a bright yellow dress that practically glowed, and Jenna, who’d somehow managed to find a neon pink blazer that matched nothing but made a statement.
Y/N, true to her word, was wearing black. A black top and a black skirt with some touches of green that could pass for fluorescent, courtesy of Jenna.
"So," Jenna said, leaning in close as they walked up the steps, "are we going to talk about how weird it is that the Todd Steven invited you personally to this party?"
"Don't start." Y/N gave her a look. "It wasn’t like that."
"It was totally like that," Priya slurred, already a drink and a half in from the pregame at their dorm. "He hunted you down, Y/N. Todd Stevens, most eligible frat god of the whole campus, walked across the quad towards you like a man on a mission."
"I thought he looked more like a lion stalking its prey."Jenna added, snickering.
"You two have been watching a lot of movies, he was just being nice," Y/N said, though even she didn’t fully believe it.
Inside, the house pulsed with color. Blacklights lit up every white shirt and pair of teeth, fluorescent streamers hung from the ceiling, and music thumped through the floorboards. The party was in full swing, bodies weaving between each other, red cups everywhere.
They were barely two steps into the main room when Kyle, one of the KNA guys Y/N had only seen in passing, waved them over to a makeshift bar lit by a purple LED strip.
"Welcome, ladies!" he said, clearly riding a rush and a beer buzz. "Jello shots? Something fizzy? We got drinks that glow in the dark. Shit is amazing."
Jenna and Priya immediately launched into decisions, distracted by the abundance of novelty beverages.
Y/N, however, looked around. She wasn’t expecting to feel this okay. There were familiar faces, yes, but more importantly, no sign of Ryan. No tension in the air. She could breathe.
"Hey," came a voice behind her.
She turned and found Todd, dressed down in a black tee and jeans, with glow paint streaks on his forearms and the bridge of his nose. He looked infuriatingly good.
Unfair.
"Glow paint's a new thing for me," Todd explained, holding up a cup. "But I figured, why not embrace the theme, right?"
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, the dim lighting accentuating the sharp planes of his face.
"The existence of this man is really unfair" She thought to herself.
He took a sip of the neon-colored liquid within, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "So, what's your poison?"
"Nothing yet," Y/N replied, her voice a little breathless despite herself. "I'm still deciding."
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the table. "I'll get you something good to drink."
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the movement drawing Todd's attention to the subtle sway of her hips. He found himself wondering what she'd look like in one of the glow-in-the-dark dresses that some of the girls wore that night, highlighting the outline of her figure in the darkness and—
He shook his head, dispelling the image before it could take root.
"I'm glad you came. With so many excuses, I didn't think I'd see you here today," he said, both walking to a table full of brightly colored drinks that made you hesitate to drink them.
Y/N smiled. "Told you I might."
He returned the smile, something satisfied behind it, his blue eyes shining with amusement. "I’m glad."
Jenna, not five feet away, looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows in the most unsubtle expression Y/N had ever seen. Then she nudged Priya, who was standing next to her, quite focused on the two glasses she had in her hands.
Todd noticed. "Your friends?"
"Unfortunately." she laughed under her breath. "Just ignore them."
Todd chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Ignore them? Nah, they're funny."
He snagged two cups, filled them with what looked like a mix of citrus and neon green liquid, and handed one to Y/N. As she took the cup, their fingers brushed, sending a spark up Todd's arm. He barely suppressed a smirk at her obvious reaction.
"So, what do you think? Is it to your liking?" He leaned against the table, his hip bumping hers casually, a clear invitation to get closer. "I hope you're not planning on driving home after this. 'cause Kyle and Liam were in charge of making the drinks tonight."
"I can't drink much, I have Priya and Jenna, they're probably going to end up wasted and I'm going to have to take care of them, take them to the dorms and everything."
She looked around for her friends. Priya already got pulled into a dance circle. Jenna made it her personal mission to sample every neon-colored beverage and rate them loudly.
"It's going to be a long night for me." she sighed.
"Sounds like a plan." He joked. Then he gestured to a quiet corner of the room, where a plush couch and a coffee table stood, somewhat sheltered from the main party area. "Why don't you take a load off over there for a bit? I can keep you company. And if things get too crazy, we can always sneak out for some fresh air."
As he spoke, Todd subtly steered Y/N toward the secluded spot, his hand brushing against her lower back to guide her. The touch was casual, almost friendly, but Y/N could feel the heat of his palm seeping into her skin.
"Aren't you supposed to be enjoying your party?"
"Who said I'm not enjoying it?" He replied with a smug smile.
Once they reached the couch, Todd sat down beside her, his thigh pressing against hers. He took a sip of his own drink, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
"So," he said, leaning against the couch, "be honest. On a scale from one to regretting every decision of your life, how much do you hate being here?"
Y/N laughed. "I don’t hate it. Actually... I’m kind of having a good time."
Todd raised an eyebrow. "Kind of?"
"Don’t push it." She joked, drinking a little more.
They stayed on that couch for a long time. Talking. A lot. About Music. About their classes. About how Todd got roped into frat politics. How Y/N ended up in her major.
What Y/N didn’t know was that Todd hadn’t stopped thinking about this moment since the day she came to him for help. There was something possessive curling in his chest when she stood beside him. Not the toxic kind. Not the controlling kind. But the kind born of pride and the need to prove a point.
To the brothers. To Ryan, if he was still into her.
That she was there. With him.
And yeah, maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was ego. But for once, he didn’t care. He was careful with her. Polite. Funny. He didn’t try to impress her, and that was maybe the most impressive thing.
And time slipped.
Hours passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, the neon lights fading as the night wore on. Todd found himself drawn to Y/N's quick wit and easy charm, the way she seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.
As the music gradually transitioned from upbeat party anthems to slower, more sensual tracks, Todd felt the atmosphere in the room shift. Couples began to steal kisses in the dim light, hands roaming over bare skin as the beat slowed.
He glanced over at Y/N, noticing for the first time how her skirt hugged her curves, the way it fell just above her knees, revealing tantalizing glimpses of smooth thigh. His gaze lingered, drinking in the sight of her, before he realized he'd been staring.
Clearing his throat, Todd shifted slightly, his thigh now pressed firmly against Y/N's, the contact sending a jolt of awareness through him.
"So, what's your favorite genre of books?" he asked, trying to sound casual despite the tension building in him.
"Really?" Y/N asked amused, she couldn't believe he had used such a stupid question, as if he hadn't been staring at her legs all night. "You are asking that?"
"What?" He laughed, knowing how pathetic he had sounded.
They didn’t realize how long they’d been out in their little bubble until Jenna stumbled in front of them, dragging Priya behind her. Priya was draped in a feather boa and mumbling something about luminous tequila.
"Hey," Jenna said, breathless. "I’m taking her to our dorm. You good?"
Y/N stood, eyes flicking between her very drunk friend, Jenna’s knowing smirk and Todd looking at her with a stifled smile, waiting for her answer.
"Yeah," she said. "Want me to go with you?."
"Don't worry, stay." Jenna winked. "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."
Priya, halfway conscious, gave Todd a thumbs-up as Jenna dragged her towards the door.
Todd chuckled. "They’re something."
"They’re chaos personified." Y/N rolled her eyes.
He turned to her, more serious now. "You want me to walk you back later? After things wind down?"
She looked at him. At his careful, neutral expression. The way his body language was so open but reserved at once. And something about it made her nod. The thought that, if she was lucky enough, he wouldn't have to walk her back to the dorms at the end of the night crossed her mind before she could realize it.
"Yeah," she said. "That’d be nice."
Todd nodded, his expression softening into a warm smile. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes never leaving Y/N's face. "In the meantime, mind if I grab us another round? I think we need some backup now that you don't have to take care of your friends."
Without waiting for a reply, Todd stood and made his way back to the makeshift bar, his movements fluid and confident. Y/N watched him go, her gaze lingering on the way his jeans hugged his ass before he disappeared into the crowd.
When he returned a few minutes later, he held two cups, one in each hand, the neon liquid glowing under the black lights. He handed one to Y/N, their fingers brushing once more.
"I didn’t trust the green one," he said. "Tasted like floor cleaner. This might only taste like cough syrup. Progress."
Y/N laughed, taking the can. "Thanks. Always wanted to be poisoned slowly."
"Happy to help," he said, leaning against the railing beside her. "Enjoying yourself yet?"
"I think I might be."
She was.
It surprised her. She didn’t come here expecting to have so much fun. Or to enjoy the company of the one frat guy she swore was way too polished to be real. But there was something about Todd tonight, casual, a little more loose than she’d seen him before, still absurdly put-together but accessible. Real.
Maybe it was the glow paint.
Or maybe it was the way he kept checking in with her, as if he wanted to drag her upstairs and lock them in his room for the rest of the night. And God, she was waiting for him to do so.
Todd's gaze drifted over Y/N's face, taking in the way her lips parted slightly as she smiled when she saw him approaching. He wanted to reach out and trace the curve of her jaw with his finger, to tilt her head back and kiss her until she melted against him.
"I'm glad to hear that. I was worried I might be boring you to tears here." He shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. "I don't think I told you before, but seriously, Y/N, you look really good tonight."
His words were low and sincere, carrying a weight that made Y/N's heart stutter in her chest.
"Thanks..." She began, her voice a hesitant whisper. "Do you- uh, you want to go dancing for a while?"
They ended up in the center of the room, weaving through the crowd, where someone had started a dance circle to early 2000s music. Y/N found herself dancing again —not well, but with confidence— and Todd, surprisingly, danced a little too. Not in the polished way she expected, but with enough self-awareness to be funny and look good while doing it. It made her laugh so hard she nearly spilled her drink.
And at some point between the music and the laughter, the teasing changed.
He leaned close to say something, his mouth brushing her ear, and she turned toward him —too fast, maybe— but neither of them backed away. Her breath caught. His smile faded into something dangerous.
"Careful," he said, voice lower. "You keep looking at me like that and people might start thinking you’re actually into me."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" she asked.
Their eyes met. The music dipped.
"No," Todd's voice was a low rumble, his words vibrating against Y/N's skin. The air between them felt charged, the tension palpable.
His gaze flicked over her again, taking in the way the shadows and the lights danced across her curves, the subtle sheen of her hair in the neon lights. It was an image that that made him want to reach out and touch.
"Because I think I might be into you too, Y/N," he continued, one of his hands sliding around her waist as he spoke. "More than I should be, considering the circumstances."
His gaze dropped to her lips, lingering for a moment before returning to her eyes.
"But I can't help how I feel. And right now, all I can think about is kissing you."
The music swelled, the beat pulsing in time with the racing of Y/N's heart. She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips.
"Then kiss me," she whispered, the invitation hanging heavy in the air between them.
Todd's smile turned wicked, a spark of triumph flashing in his eyes.
"Brave girl," he murmured before leaning in, his mouth hovering just inches from hers.
The kiss was rushed. He caught Y/N’s face in his hands and crushed his mouth to hers, the moment their mouths met, it was as though something inside both of them broke loose. There was no patience, no gentleness, only the raw need to be closer, to erase the space between them. Their lips moved hungrily, tasting, searching, as if they could drink the other in and still not be satisfied. Fingers tangled in hair, clutching like they might slip away at any second; breaths came in ragged gasps between kisses that deepened and clashed, fierce and unyielding.
The world around them blurred into nothing. There was only the heat of his breath, the taste of her lips, and the frantic, wordless plea in the way they refused to let go.
When they pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed. His fingers had found her waist, grounding them both in the moment.
"We should-" Todd began, his voice rough, as if the words were struggling to catch up with the rush of his pulse.
"Yeah," Y/N breathed, cutting him off, her answer quick, almost urgent.
They moved together without thinking, their steps falling into sync as they crossed the hall. His room was tucked away on the second floor, far from the thrum of voices and music downstairs, a quiet pocket where the noise faded to a distant hum. The muted light from the hallway spilled over the threshold as Todd eased the door open.
When they stepped inside, the air felt different— denser, charged, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. Todd closed the door behind them slowly, careful not to let the latch click too loudly, like a loud sound might shatter the fragile thread pulling them together. For a moment they stood there, caught in a silence that wasn’t empty at all, but full of the unspoken promise of what would come next.
His room was on the second floor, away from most of the noise. When they entered, he closed the door behind them quietly, as if not to break whatever spell they were under.
The space was tidy but lived-in. Books on a shelf. A half-full laundry hamper. A hoodie draped over a desk chair. A minibar next to the desk.
"Not what I expected," Y/N joked, entering the room. "If I can be honest."
Todd chuckled, the sound low and easy as he followed Y/N into his room. "What did you expect?"
"More ego. You know, a giant picture of you over the bed... And less tidy."
"Actually I've got one in the closet." He joked back, walking to the desk, picking up the hoodie and hanging it neatly in the closet. As he worked, Todd's eyes kept drifting back to Y/N, taking in the way the dim light highlighted her features, the flush still coloring her cheeks. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremble of her fingers as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.
When he finally turned to face her fully, Todd's expression was open. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You’re not disappointing me," she said, meeting his gaze.
He leaned over the minibar and offered her a bottle of water, which she took with a grateful nod, then dropped onto the edge of his bed while he leaned back against his desk.
"So…" she said, twisting the cap off, "Is this your normal procedure? You bring the girls here to tell you what they think of your room?"
Todd crossed the space between them slowly, deliberate but unrushed, an amused expression on his face at her question, dark eyes. She didn’t move. Just tilted her chin up to look at him.
"You’re something," he murmured.
They were close now. Close enough she could smell the cedar on his skin, feel the low hum of his breath just inches from hers. She licked her bottom lip without thinking, and his gaze dropped to follow the motion.
"Todd," she said, half-warning, half-inviting.
"Yeah?"
She reached out and looped her fingers into the hem of his shirt, biting her lip to contain the urge to do what she really wanted to do when she was in that position in front of him.
"Are you gonna kiss me, or are you just gonna keep making smug little comments all night?"
He didn’t answer. He just leaned down and did exactly what she asked.
Todd's lips met Y/N's in a soft, lingering kiss, his fingers threading into her hair to hold her in place. He explored the warm, willing mouth with his tongue, reveling in the taste of her, the feel of her softness against his lips.
Y/N stifled a moan, her hands found his shoulders to push him back into her mouth, and his fingers slipped under the hem of her top, slowly sliding upwards, his palm growing warmer against her skin. He could feel the heat emanating from her skin, the subtle rhythm of her heartbeat, and suddenly the room felt warmer than it had a minute ago. Todd deepened the kiss, pulling her closer with a quiet exhale, and she responded with equal heat. Her body curved into his, her knees parting to let him step between them as he hovered over her where she sat on the bed.
Breaking the kiss, Todd pulled back just enough to look into Y/N's eyes, his own dark with desire.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his breath hot against her lips. "Or how much I want to keep going."
"Then keep going." She replied. Any other time she would fear sound desperate, but that didn't matter right now, not with Todd standing in front of her and looking at her like that.
"You good?" he asked quietly.
Y/N nodded, "I’m great."
He kissed her again, slower this time, and she let herself get lost in it, the weight of him, the way he moved, the way he touched her like he already knew the places that made her tremble just a little.
The kiss deepened, his tongue swirling around Y/N's in a sensual dance as he pressed her back into the mattress. He could feel her body responding to his, her chest pressing against his chest, her thighs parting to accommodate him as he settled between them.
When they finally broke apart, Todd's lips trailed down her jaw, her pulse point, her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts, tracing the curves of her hips, his touch gentle yet possessive.
He looked up at Y/N, his eyes dark with desire, his expression intense.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I want to explore every inch of you."
Todd's hands sneak under her top, his fingers finding the sensitive skin of her stomach, her ribs, before rising back up to her chest.
"Are you sure?" He murmured, his lips trailing a path of fire down her neck, smirking when she let out a moan.
"Mhm, yeah." She whispered, her voice brimming with desperation at his touch.
"Then let's get rid of this," he murmured. His fingers rushed to grasp the hem of her top and lift it over her head. He throw the fabric aside, revealing Y/N's breasts to his hungry gaze.
Todd's breath caught at the sight. Her breasts were perfect. As if they were inviting him, he leaned down, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her clavicle. Y/N gasped at the sensation, her hands tightening in his hair.
"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. "Touch me."
With a growl of approval, Todd wrapped his lips around one of Y/N's nipples, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud. He suckled gently, then harder, reveling in her sweet taste and the way her body responded to his touch.
With a low, primal grunt, Todd lifted Y/N's skirt, his hands sliding up her thighs to bunch the fabric around her waist. He could feel the heat of her skin beneath, the softness of her inner thighs inviting him closer.
"Such a little needy thing." He murmured against her skin in a mocking tone. His hands rushed to remove her skirt, Y/N lifting her hips to help him pull it off her body with desperation.
His fingers danced along the edge of Y/N's panties, teasing the sensitive skin just above her hips. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the way her breath hitched in anticipation, her hips struggling to stay still at the touch. He hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear and slowly dragged them down her thighs, revealing Y/N's glistening folds to his eager gaze.
Todd's cock throbbed in his pants, aching to be buried deep inside Y/N's welcoming heat. But he took his time, savoring each moment, each sensation, each delicious inch of Y/N's body as he explored her.
"Look at you, all pretty and wet for me," Todd whispered, his eyes locked on Y/N's core.
"Todd, gosh, do something." Y/N said, a little annoyed. "Please. Just do something."
Her words were a warning and a plea all wrapped into one. Her body was screaming for his touch, her skin tingling with need, her core aching for relief, for the slightest sign of attention he might want to give her.
He could ruin her right there and she'd take it gladly.
Todd brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking it quickly before bringing it between Y/N's legs. His finger danced around her sensitive clit, teasing the little nub with light, fluttering touches that made her gasp and squirm beneath him. He lavished attention on the delicate flesh, his thumb circling the bud as his tongue traced the shell of her ear. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he began to explore, to tease, to tantalize.
"Oh god," she moaned, her head tossing to the side. "That feels so good."
At the same time, Todd's other hand roamed over Y/N's body, mapping every curve and valley with reverence and desire. He palmed her breasts, his touch gentle yet possessive, claiming every inch of her as his own.
Todd's thumb circled her clit. "You like that baby?"
"Yeah." She respondedwith a moan, her hips moving unconsciously against his fingers. "Ah! Please Todd..."
Todd chuckled low in his throat, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers down Y/N's spine.
"Not yet, love," he murmured, his breath hot against her lips. "I want to make sure you're ready for me."
A finger plunged into Y/N's wet heat, stroking her inner walls with a gentle pressure that quickly built to a more insistent rhythm. He could feel her muscles clenching around him, welcoming him deeper with each thrust. His mouth traveled up Y/N's neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He nipped at her pulse point, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin, before soothing the sting with a long, languid lick.
"God, Y/N, you feel incredible," Todd groaned, his hips grinding against hers in a desperate bid for friction. "So tight, so hot... I could get lost in you."
He added a second finger to her entrance, stretching her further as he pumped in and out, his palm rubbing against her clit with each stroke. The combination of his fingers and lips worked her higher and higher, until Y/N was writhing beneath him, her breaths coming in sharp gasps.
"Todd, please," she begged, her voice a desperate plea. "Need- shit... Need you inside me."
Todd's eyes locked onto Y/N's, burning with desire and love. He knew exactly what she needed, and he was more than happy to oblige.
"I know baby, but give me one first."
Todd's fingers continued their relentless pace, stroking and teasing Y/N's sensitive flesh until she was writhing beneath him, her moans growing louder and more desperate. He could feel her body tensing, her inner walls clenching around his fingers as she teetered on the edge of climax.
With a final, deliberate thrust, Todd pushed Y/N over the precipice, her body shuddering and arching as she came hard around his fingers. He continued to stroke her through the aftershocks, drawing out her pleasure until she was gasping and panting, her skin slick with sweat.
As the last tremors subsided, Todd slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste her essence. Y/N watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, a sated, almost lazy smile playing on her lips.
"Mmm, you're delicious," Todd murmured, his voice low and husky. "And we're just getting started, so better get ready."
"Yeah? Because you look pretty dressed up to me." Y/N tease him, putting her arms around his shoulders and pulling him towards her.
"You wanna see me naked so bad?"
He leaned down to capture Y/N's lips in a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to claim her completely. As they kissed, Todd's hands roamed over her body, mapping every curve, every dip, his touch both soothing and arousing.
Todd's hands slid down to cup Y/N's waist, squeezing the flesh as he ground his clothed hips against her bare ones, the hard length of his erection pressing against the cloth that contained it. Y/N could feel the heat of him, the power and strength in his body, and it only fueled her desire further.
Breaking the kiss, Todd looked into Y/N's eyes, his gaze intense and unyielding.
"I want to be inside you," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I need to feel you."
Without waiting for a response, Todd quickly stripped off his clothes, revealing his lean, muscular physique. Y/N's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, her mouth watering at the thought of tasting him, of having him fill her completely.
As he settled between her thighs once more, Todd's hands found her hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he positioned himself at her entrance.
"Tell me you want this," he growled, his breath hot against her face. "Please, tell me you need me as much as I need you."
"Yes, I want it, I want you." Y/N's response was a low, breathy moan, her body arching up to meet his. "Please."
Todd's face flashed with triumph and desire at Y/N's response, his grip on her hips tightening, his eyes never left Y/N's as he slowly pushed forward, his thick cockhead parting her slick folds. She let out a soft gasp as he breached her, her walls fluttering around him in anticipation.
"Oh, God! Yes!" Y/N breathed, her hips lifting to meet him, desperate for more of his length.
Todd groaned at the sensation of her heat enveloping him, her tight passage gripping him like a velvet vice. He pulled back slowly, savoring the drag of her flesh against his, before surging forward again.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his fingers digging into her hips while he tried to maintain control. "Take all of me. Show me what a perfect fit we are."
Y/N's back arched, her body tensing around Todd as he filled her completely. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper still. He stood still for a moment, letting her get used to the sensation. She breathed, her hands fisting in his hair.
The sensation of him inside her, the drag of his thick length against her sensitive walls, was almost too much to bear.
Todd's lips found hers again, his kiss fierce and hungry as he claimed her mouth even as he claimed her body. His hands roamed over her, palms skimming her breasts, her sides, her thighs, as if he couldn't get enough of her skin.
Breaking the kiss, Todd rested his forehead against Y/N's, their ragged breaths mingling in the space between them.
"So fucking perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "You're ready for me, Y/N?"
Y/N nodded, unsure of her own ability to speak at the moment. Slowly, deliberately, Todd began to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in, his thick length stretching and filling Y/N in a sensual rhythm. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and Todd could tell Y/N was already close again, her hips rising to meet his with each thrust.
"You're so deep..." Y/N moaned in amazement, completely lost in the feeling of Todd's cock inside her. So perfect that she felt like she might start drooling at how brain-dead she was for the feeling. "So, so good."
Todd's hips snapped forward, driving into Y/N with a grunt of pleasure. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him, the slick heat of her enveloping him completely.
"Fuck, you're tight," he growled, his blue eyes dark with lust. "I love how you feel wrapped around me."
His hands slid down to grasp Y/N's hips, his fingers digging in as he picked up the pace, pounding into her with increasing urgency. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a primal beat that echoed the rhythm of their hearts.
"Take it all, Y/N," He urged, his voice strained with need. "Let me fill you, make you mine."
As the pleasure mounted, Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, her body trembling beneath Todd's. She was so close, the tension coiling in her core threatening to snap at any moment.
"Todd, please," she whimpered, her hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "I need..."
"I know, love," Todd panted, his lips trailing along her jawline as he continued to pound into her. "I'm right there with you."
With skill and care, slowing down the pace of his thrusts a little, Todd lifted Y/N's leg, shifting the angle slightly, the change in position allowing him to drive deeper into her with each thrust. The new position also put pressure on her G-spot, and Y/N's moans grew louder and more desperate.
"Todd!" she gasped, her hips bucking to meet his. "Just like that."
With her leg draped over his torso, Todd had a clear view of Y/N's face, her features contorted in pleasure, her eyes glazed with need. He leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth as he continued to pound into her.
The altered position allowed for even deeper, more powerful thrusts, his cock hitting sensitive spots within Y/N that made her cry out in pleasure. He could feel her walls clenching around him, the heat and tightness driving him closer to the edge.
"Please, Todd, don't stop," she begged between moans, her voice breathy and pleading. "I'm so close..."
"Touch yourself," he urged, his voice strained with effort. "I want to see you come on my cock."
With trembling fingers, Y/N reached down to rub her clit, the added stimulation pushing her closer to the edge. Todd could feel her inner walls fluttering around him, could sense the imminent climax building within her.
"That's it, baby," he coaxed, his words punctuated by the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
Todd's grip on Y/N's hips tightened as he thrust deeper, harder, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. The sensation of Y/N's tight, wet heat enveloping him was almost too much to bear, and he could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine.
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm close," he warned, his voice strained and raw. "Give it to me. Cum, Y/N. Cum for me."
"Oh fuck!" Y/N cried out, her back arching as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Her inner walls clamped down around Todd's cock, the intense contraction milking him of his own release.
"Yes, just like that," he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Take all of me, Y/N. Milk my cock with that perfect little pussy."
With a final, brutal plunge, Todd buried himself to the hilt, his orgasm tearing through him like a tidal wave. He came hard, his body shuddering as he filled Y/N with his release, the sensation of her inner walls rippling around him almost too intense to bear.
In the aftermath, Todd collapsed onto Y/N, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he struggled to catch his breath. He could feel their hearts pounding against each other, the sweat-dampened skin of their bodies cooling slowly.
The room was quiet now, save for the hum of a fan in the corner and the muffled thump of music still drifting faintly through the house walls. The party had gone on without them, dimming into background noise the moment Y/N followed Todd up the stairs, and now the music downstairs had faded into muffled bass, too distant to interrupt the cocoon of silence wrapped around Todd’s bedroom. The air was warm, faintly perfumed with the lingering scent of his cologne and something sweeter, Y/N’s shampoo clinging to the pillow she had claimed.
Y/N lay on her side, the sheets pulled tightly against her chest, her hair was a mess falling in messy strands across her face. Her cheeks still flushed, and her heartbeat hadn’t quite settled into something normal yet. Her breathing was shallow, not quite steady, betraying the chaos beneath her attempt at calm. Her chest rose and fell slowly, but her mind was running at a sprint.
She was acutely aware of Todd stretched out next to her, bare-chested, his arm resting casually above his head as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t. Not for her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the warmth rushing to her cheeks would subside. They’d just— God. She didn’t even want to think the word. Her heart hammered again at the memory, not of the act itself but of how easy it had been to let herself fall into it. How natural.
It was ridiculous. That very afternoon she’d sworn to Jenna and Priya she might not even show up at the party. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to drink much, wasn’t going to dance, wasn’t going to get pulled into anyone’s orbit.
And yet here she was. In Todd's bed. So fucking satisfied.
She turned her head slightly. Todd was beside her, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting across his stomach. He was watching her. Of course he was. That infuriatingly confident half-smile tugged at his mouth like he’d known exactly how the night was going to end.
“Stop staring,” she muttered, pulling the sheet up higher.
“Not staring,” Todd said easily. “Admiring. There’s a difference."
Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he countered without missing a beat.
She peeked at him through her fingers. “I’m not embarrassed.”
Todd arched a brow. “No? Then why are you hiding like I just caught you sneaking snacks in class?"
Y/N let her hands drop, exhaling hard.
Todd shifted, the mattress dipping as he rolled onto his side to face her. She felt the warmth of his presence before she dared glance at him. When she finally did, he was grinning that shameless grin of his, the one that seemed equal parts charming and infuriating.
“You’re blushing,” he said simply, like he was observing the weather.
“I am not.” She burrowed her face deeper into the pillow.
He chuckled, reaching out to gently tug at the edge of the sheet she clutched. “You’re acting like you didn’t just-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Her voice cracked as she whipped her head around to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by the redness in her cheeks.
Todd held up his hands in mock surrender, though his eyes sparkled. “Alright, alright. I’ll spare your delicate sensibilities.”
Y/N groaned and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“Believe it,” he said, unfazed. He propped himself up on an elbow, studying her. “I mean, unless I’m dreaming. Which, granted, would explain how ridiculously good you looked right now.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Compliments from Todd were dangerous things: effortless, practiced, probably things he’d said to a dozen girls before her. And yet, the way he said them, low and teasing, felt like they were meant only for her.
“Stop saying things like that,” she muttered.
"Why? Because they’re true?”
“Because this is insane, Todd. We barely know each other. I mean, yes, we share a class, we’ve talked, and you helped me with… With Ryan, but this?” She gestured vaguely at the bed, at them. “This wasn’t supposed to happen."
Her eyes flicked to his. He looked too comfortable, too sure of himself, waiting for her to continue talking. And she hated how much that reassured her.
"It’s just… This afternoon I wasn’t even sure I was coming to the party. And now…” She gestured vaguely again. “This.”
Todd chuckled low in his throat. “Spontaneity looks good on you.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “You’re impossible."
“Maybe,” he agreed, leaning in closer. “But I’m right here with you, so...”
She swatted at him with a pillow. “Don’t get smug."
“Too late.” He caught the pillow mid-swing and set it aside. “Besides, I don’t think either of us regrets it.”
Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn’t going to lie to him—because he was right. She didn’t regret it. That was the problem. She liked Todd, maybe more than she wanted to admit, and the ease with which she’d fallen into his space tonight scared her. It felt like giving up control, and Y/N hated giving up control.
“You’re awfully confident for someone who should be just as embarrassed as I am.”
Todd’s expression shifted, his smirk fading into something gentler. He reached for the water bottle that she had left earlier on his nightstand, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to her.
“I’m not embarrassed. Not even a little. But I get why you are. So… Here.”
She hesitated before taking the bottle. The simple gesture, though, chipped away at her nerves. She sipped the water slowly, letting the coolness soothe her dry throat, then handed it back.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He set it down again, then pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders. “I don’t want you cold.”
The softness of that small action silenced her for a moment. She hadn’t expected tenderness from him. Not from the guy who ruled his frat with authority, who walked campus like he owned it. And yet, here he was, fussing over her warmth like it mattered more than anything else.
Y/N exhaled, tension leaving her shoulders.
“You really don’t regret this?” she asked quietly.
Todd shook his head, firm. “Not for a second. You?”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, then finally whispered, “No. I don't know. But I probably should.”
Todd shifted closer, propping himself on his elbow. “Hey. Stop overthinking. I had a great time. I like you, Y/N. That’s all there is to it.”
Her throat tightened. Simple. He made it sound so simple.
“You barely know me,” she whispered.
He grinned, shameless. “I know enough to know I want to. The rest we can figure out over breakfast.”
Y/N snorted despite herself. “Breakfast? You think I’m staying here?”
Todd’s grin widened. “Absolutely. You’re not walking across campus at three in the morning. I’d never forgive myself if you did. And I'm too tired to go with you.”
“I’ve done worse,” she protested.
“Not after tonight,” he said firmly, tugging the sheet just enough to tuck it around her like it would anchor her in place. “Stay. Sleep. Tomorrow I’ll take you for pancakes. Or waffles. Your choice.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re very bossy.”
"You'll get used to it,” he said smoothly.
“Charming." She rolled her eyes, though she was fighting a smile. Exhaustion was beginning to creep in, her body sinking further into the mattress. She hated how comfortable it felt— hated, and secretly loved it.
Todd noticed her fighting sleep.
“Rest,” he said softly. “You’re exhausted.”
“I shouldn’t. I should go back to my dorm.”
"It’s past three in the morning,” he countered. “You’ll trip over some drunk freshman on the way back. Stay here. Just sleep.”
Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. The idea of waking up in Todd’s bed tomorrow morning was mortifying. And yet her eyelids were heavy, and the warmth of the blanket, the steady presence beside her, it was too much to fight against.
“Fine,” she muttered finally. “But only because I’m tired.”
“Whatever helps you sleep right now,” Todd said, amused.
For a long moment, Y/N said nothing. Her embarrassment lingered, prickling at the edges of her comfort. But beneath it was something steadier, something calm she hadn’t expected to find.
She sighed. “Alright, I'm staying only because you promised breakfast.”
"Stop making excuses." Todd leaned in and kissed her forehead, quick and playful. “Deal.”
Y/N swatted at him again. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Too late,” he said with a laugh, settling back onto his pillow.
She gave him a look, then slowly shift in the bed, this time closer to him. The contact made her heartbeat stumble again, but Todd didn’t push it. He simply lay back as well, folding one arm under his head. The other rested lightly over the sheets, near her but not touching, as though offering the choice.
Her body sagged with fatigue, and she closed her eyes, surrendering to it. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, her hand loosening its grip on the sheet. Todd watched her for a moment, the smallest smile curving his lips. Carefully, he reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t stir.
"Night, Y/N,” he whispered.
Then, finally, he allowed himself to close his eyes, the weight of her presence beside him anchoring him more than he expected.
And sleep came easily.
They slept for quite a long time, so long that only the sunlight, pushing rudely through the blinds in Todd's room, wake them when land squarely across Y/N’s eyes. She shifted with a groan, pulling the pillow over her face. Her head wasn’t pounding exactly, but it carried the dull ache of cheap vodka mixed with too many glow-in-the-dark cocktails.
The bed was warm. Warmer than it should’ve been.
It took her a second to understand why, remember everything.
And then she turned her head and saw him, Todd, lying on his side with one arm tucked behind his head like he had nothing in the world to worry about. His eyes were still closed, hair a little mussed, the sharpness of his features softened by sleep. He looked... Unfairly good like that.
“Oh my god,” Y/N whispered to herself. "Where are my clothes?"
Todd’s lips curved. He wasn’t asleep at all.
“I didn't think of you as the kind of girl who sneaks away.” he said, voice low, scratchy in that way men’s voices were when they’d just woken up.
Y/N turned to look at him, her visual search for her clothes on the floor suspended, and shoved his shoulder lightly.
"Were you pretending to sleep?"
“Not faking. Just appreciating your panic, you look cute like that.”
Her face heated. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm,” he hummed, stretching lazily before turning onto his back. “I get that a lot.”
Y/N sat up, pulling the sheet higher, suddenly aware she was in his bed. In his room. At the house. The memories of last night came in fragments—neon lights, the thump of music, their conversations, the flirting that had gotten bolder with every drink. His hand brushing hers. His mouth against hers. His hands on her skin. Him in her...
She twitched her lips slightly at the memories. Yeah. She shouldn't be remembering that right now.
Todd glanced over at her again, eyes bright even in the messy morning light. “Hungry?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Hungry.” he said. “I told you yesterday I was going to take you to breakfast.”
Y/N shook her head quickly. “Right. No, I should just go back to the dorm. Jenna and Priya must be waiting for me, otherwise they must think that a frat guy ate me.”
"I didn't have the opportunity," Todd licked his lips, his eyes meeting Y/N's in a playful challenge. "You were very sleepy."
"God, no." Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Don't say it like that."
“Come on.” His tone was firm, but soft with subtle fun. “Let me take you out. The kitchen sure looks like a warzone, and half the guys are probably still asleep in piles downstairs. Also I’m not letting you walk home in last night’s clothes.”
Her stomach twisted. He was right about one thing, walking out in her clothes from last night would look like a cliché walk of shame, although she believed she had nothing to be ashamed of, still.
Todd must’ve caught her hesitation, because his lips tugged into a grin.
“Tell you what. Take a shower first. Then breakfast. Full. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, whatever you want, and coffee." He proposed with a smile, moving closer to her, his usually pulled back hair now falling over his forehead. "Vanilla latte, two sugars? I’m a good guesser.”
She narrowed her eyes, unconsciously reaching up to fix Todd's hair. “You don’t know how I take my coffee.”
“Don’t I?” He was infuriatingly confident.
Still, the mention of a shower made her hesitate again. She crossed her arms over the sheet. “Todd, I am not stepping into a bathroom shared by thirty frat guys. I’d rather die. I don't want to sound judgmental, but a men's bathroom? Sorry, but gross."
That earned a laugh from him, low and amused. “Good thing is that I have my own. No beer cans, no mystery puddles, no waiting line. Promise.”
She blinked. “You have a private bathroom?”
“Shocking, I know.” He leaned closer, voice dipping. “You’d like it. Clean towels. Hot water. It’s civilized. I promise.”
Her lips quirked. “Why do I feel like after this I'm going to be part of this? You're offering me too much.”
“You passed the test yesterday, believe me." he shot back smoothly, then winced when she smacked his arm with the pillow. "Hey! I'm just trying to be a gentleman."
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
It was ridiculous how fast the banter pulled her in, how easy it felt, even in the awkwardness of the morning after. Against her better judgment, she let out a laugh. “Fine. Shower. But just shower, nothing else.”
“Nothing else? You're killing me.” He pressed a hand to his chest, mock-offended, as he got out of bed and made Y/N look away for a little while, although she had to admit that she did spy a little.
The bathroom was, to Y/N’s surprise, actually clean. Not spotless, but far better than she’d imagined. Neutral tile, a surprisingly neat sink, a glass shower door.
“See?” Todd said, leaning on the doorway. “Told you. Five-star accommodations.”
"Whatever you say." Y/N stepped past him, clutching the towel he’d given her. “You’re not watching me shower.”
He smirked. “Who said I wasn’t showering too?”
Her cheeks flamed. “Todd-”
“I’m kidding,” he said quickly, though the mischievous gleam in his eye suggested he wasn’t entirely. “Relax. Go ahead. I’ll find you something to wear after. You’re about my size, right?”
She shot him a look. “Very funny.”
But when the water turned on, steaming up the glass, she found herself grinning despite herself. And when Todd inevitably slipped in a few minutes later with a grin and the excuse of “conserving water,” she didn’t exactly shove him out.
Although she had been quite strict on the fact that it was just a shower. Really. But it was filled with laughter, hands tugging at wet hair, mouths meeting in quick, breathless kisses under the rush of hot water. Playful shoves against the slick tile, his hands warm and steady on her waist. Her mock-protests drowned out by the sound of her own laughter.
By the time they stepped out, damp and flushed, Y/N was both exhausted and buzzing with energy.
Todd tossed her one of his hoodies, navy, oversized, with the frat’s Greek letters embroidered in gold that made her roll her eyes at the sight. It swallowed her frame, hanging just above her thighs.
She stared at him. “This is ridiculous.”
“You look good,” he said simply, tugging a T-shirt over his head.
“I look like a scrawny rookie.”
“You look like you belong to me.”
The way he said it, low, to himself, sent a flicker of warmth through her chest she wasn’t prepared for.
Y/N was about to speak again when she noticed Todd looking around in confusion, a frown on his face. "All good?"
"I can't find my wallet," he replied, rummaging through his desk drawers. "Do you want to wait for me downstairs? I'll be right there."
"In the jungle?" She joked, relieved when Todd chuckled and his frown softened a little.
He walked up to her, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek and escort her to the door. "Funny. I'll just take a minute, I'll see if I left it at the office."
Five minutes later, Y/N found herself waiting in the frat’s front hall, tugging at the sleeves of Todd’s hoodie. The house looked like a storm had blown through: plastic cups scattered across every surface, sticky floors, a neon streamer tangled in the ceiling fan. On her way from Todd's room to the entrance she found about five people sleeping scattered around there, one snoring on the floor with an empty pizza box for a blanket on one side of the stairs.
Y/N was trying not to look at him, otherwise she knew she would laugh so hard she wouldn't be able to hold back the urge to take a picture and send it to Jenna.
It was all a sleeping chaos.
And she felt awkward while waiting.
She shifted from one foot to the other, glancing toward the staircase for signs of Todd. Maybe she should’ve just gone straight home. But she didn't want to leave him yet either.
“Y/N?”
The voice made her freeze.
When she turned, Ryan was standing a few feet away, his expression a mixture of surprise and something darker. He looked rough, hair sticking up, circles under his eyes, but his focus was sharp. On her. On her state.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, tone sharper than she’d ever heard from him.
Y/N’s stomach dropped. “Waiting.”
"You..." He stepped closer, voice low. “Stayed here? Last night?”
She swallowed. There were people still half-asleep around them, but the tension between them was suddenly thick.
“It’s none of your business,” she said quickly.
His jaw tightened. “So you just- what? Hooked up with one of them? After everything you said? After you told me you weren’t interested in dating?”
“That's exactly what I said,” she snapped, heat rising in her face. “Ryan, sleeping with someone and dating someone are two different things. I'm allowed, but you don't have to care."
He stared at her, eyes narrowing. “I care when you tell me you’re not interested, and then I find you here, in one of their hoodies-”
“Ryan.” Her voice cut sharper now. She didn’t want to cause a scene, not here, not like this. But her pulse was racing, and not just from embarrassment. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to date you. I told you that. This doesn’t change that.”
For a moment, he just looked at her, anger warring with something else in his expression.
And then he laughed, bitterly. “So that’s it. I wasn’t good enough, but one of them is. You're a little whore!”
“Just stop,” She was trying to stay calm, but now she had snapped. "The hell do you think you are?”
Then footsteps sounded on the stairs, Alex looked away and found Todd. A grimace on her face because she hoped he didn't see this.
Y/N froze when the sound of footsteps came down the stairs. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was, the confident stride, the steady rhythm, it was Todd.
Ryan’s gaze flicked past her shoulder, narrowing, and the change in his expression was instant. Shock, followed by anger, then a bitter sort of realization that made Y/N’s stomach twist.
"I found it!" Todd’s voice broke the silence, wallet in hand, his hair a little drier and hidden under a cap backwards. He was smiling at Y/N, casual, like nothing in the room was wrong. “Ready for breakfast?”
The words were ordinary. The tone was light. But Ryan wasn’t fooled.
His laugh was sharp, humorless. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Todd’s smile faded, just slightly. His eyes shifted to Ryan, cool and assessing, before returning to Y/N as if to check she was okay. Then, finally, he gave Ryan his full attention.
“What’s funny?”
Ryan gestured toward Y/N, incredulous. “This. Her. You. Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
Todd tilted his head, pocketing his wallet with a slow, deliberate motion. “And what does it look like to you?”
Ryan’s voice rose. “She came to you for help. And now she’s sleeping with you? You think that’s not messed up?”
Y/N winced. “Shut up.”
“No,” he cut her off, glaring at Todd. “You set yourself up as some kind of protector, and then you- what? Take advantage of the situation?”
Todd’s expression didn’t change much. But something in the air did. A subtle shift, the weight of his authority settling like a stormcloud. His voice, when it came, was low and steady.
“Careful, Ryan.”
The words weren’t loud, but they carried weight. Even the half-asleep frat boy on the couch stirred, glancing their way uneasily. Todd took a step closer, not menacing, but deliberate enough that Ryan tensed.
“You’re mixing things up. Me helping Y/N with your behavior,” Todd said evenly, “and Y/N and I sleeping together are two completely separate matters.”
Ryan scoffed and his gaze snapped to Y/N, as if searching for denial. But she didn’t speak. Her throat was tight, her pulse hammering. She hated confrontation, but she hated the look on Ryan’s face even more, the mix of betrayal and bitterness twisting his features. As if he had any right to feel that way.
“You can’t be serious. You tell me you’re not interested. That you don’t want me. And then you-” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “With him? Really?”
Y/N forced herself to meet his eyes. “Ryan, I told you the truth. I wasn’t interested. I never lied to you. This,” she glanced toward Todd, “wasn’t planned. But it’s not about you.”
Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
Ryan stared at her, then at Todd, then back again, as if searching for some crack in the story, some admission that it was a joke at his expense. His fists clenched.
For a moment, silence stretched between them, taut and uneasy. Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to step in, to end it before it escalated, but something about Todd’s calm, unwavering tone kept her rooted in place.
Finally, Ryan shook his head, muttering under his breath. “This is insane.”
Todd straightened, his voice cool again. “You should go. Sleep it off. We’ll talk later if we need to.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t over.”
“No, it is. At least between you and Y/N. That chapter’s closed." Todd clarified, taking Y/N's hand and guiding him towards the door. "We're going to have breakfast. Wake up the others and enjoy the clean up."
They both walked out, walking a few steps before Y/N spoke again.
“That was so awkward."
Todd finally looked at her, his eyes softening. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly, though her chest was still tight. “Yeah. I just... I didn’t expect it.”
“Ryan’s ego got bruised,” Todd said matter-of-factly. “He’ll deal with it. Or he won’t. Either way, it’s not your problem.”
Y/N pressed her lips together. “You make it sound so simple.”
His mouth curved faintly. “It is simple. You don’t owe him shit. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Nothing.”
The certainty in his voice steadied her, more than she wanted to admit. She tugged at the sleeve of the oversized hoodie he’d lent her.
For a moment, silence stretched between them again, but it was different this time, lighter, charged with something unspoken.
Then Todd held out his hand. “Come on. Breakfast.”
Y/N hesitated, glancing once more at the door of the house. But when she looked back at Todd, steady, unflinching, waiting for her with his smug smile, she reached out and took his hand.
Summary: Rhett finds comfort , and a good night's sleep, by listening to Y/N heartbeat every night. But that's his little secret.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem!Reader. Fluff. Not related to the plot of Outer Range.
Word count: 3,6k
Authors note: I'm starting Outer Range and I think Rhett is becoming my favorite Lewis character, which makes it difficult to write about him because I want to do it as good as possible.
General Masterlist Requests
The house was quiet except for the ticking of the old clock in Y/N’s living room and the faint hum of wind outside her window. Rhett lay on his side, his arm draped lazily over Y/N’s waist, his cheek resting against the pillow. His body was bone-deep tired after another long day on the ranch, and the kind of sleep he wanted was the kind that would swallow him whole and spit him out in the morning sun.
But there was a problem.
Y/N was still awake.
He could feel it in the way her body shifted against him, the restless twitch of her legs beneath the blanket, the steady rhythm of her breaths that weren’t quite slow enough to mean sleep. Rhett squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore it. If she’d just close her eyes and drift off, he could do what he always did. He could rest his head against her chest and listen, let her heartbeat drown out the noise in his head, let it lull him like nothing else ever had.
But Y/N wasn’t sleeping. And Rhett couldn’t ask her to.
“You still up?” her voice finally came, low and dry, like she already knew the answer.
Rhett grunted, keeping his eyes closed. “Mhm.”
Y/N rolled onto her back, and Rhett’s arm slipped from her waist to the mattress. He cracked one eye open, just in time to see her staring at the ceiling, her hair spread out over the pillow. She didn’t look tired. She looked thoughtful. Stubborn, even, like she’d decided that sleep wasn’t happening tonight and she was perfectly fine with that.
“You’re exhausted,” she said, glancing at him. “Why don’t you just go back home if you can’t sleep here?”
“Because I can’t sleep there either,” Rhett muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I sleep better here.”
That earned him the faintest smirk, quick but visible in the glow of the streetlight that leaked through her blinds. Y/N didn’t reply, and Rhett knew that meant she was about to stay awake even longer just to prove some point he didn’t fully understand.
He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the same ceiling she was. The silence stretched, broken only by the clock’s tick and the distant groan of the wind outside. Rhett swallowed. His whole body wanted to shift closer, to drop his head where it belonged, right on her chest, right where the sound that soothed him waited. But she was awake. He couldn’t just do it.
Not without giving himself away.
It started weeks ago, maybe a month now. At first, it was innocent, just the comfort of lying close, his head against her shoulder or collarbone every time they slept hugging each other. But the first time he dozed off to the sound of her heartbeat, it had been like stumbling onto something sacred. A rhythm steady and alive, soft but sure, one that slowed his own racing thoughts. Ever since then, he needed it. Needed her. But it wasn’t something he could explain, not without sounding ridiculous.
Rhett Abbott —bull rider, ranch hand, tough as they come— couldn’t sleep without listening to his girlfriend’s heart.
He turned his head, sneaking a look at her. Y/N’s eyes were open, reflecting the pale light. She noticed his glance and raised an eyebrow.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Rhett looked away quickly, heat rising in his cheeks despite himself.
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, but didn’t press. That was both a relief and a danger, because Y/N never let things go for long.
She shifted onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “You always get this weird look when you’re tired.”
Rhett frowned. “What look?”
“That one. Frowning and grumpy. You look like a scolded kid.”
He swallowed hard, suddenly wishing she would just close her eyes and drift off. Because if she kept staring at him like that, sharp and curious, she’d figure it out. She always did. She was too smart for him, for that town. But she was still there, still at his side.
Rhett forced a half-smile, trying to deflect. “Maybe I’m just thinkin’ about how annoying you are when you can’t sleep.”
Y/N laughed, soft but genuine, and shoved his shoulder. “Oh, shut up.”
The sound of her laugh made his chest ache, not in the same way as the beat he craved, but close. Familiar. Like it had all his life.
Y/N eventually settled back against the pillow, but her eyes stayed open, glinting in the thin stripe of moonlight from the window. Rhett could tell by the twitch in her jaw that she wasn’t even trying to fall asleep anymore. That was Y/N, stubborn as the Wyoming winters, too proud to admit defeat even to something as stupid as insomnia.
Rhett stared at her profile, his body taut with an ache he couldn’t explain out loud. He wanted to lay his head against her chest so badly it almost hurt. The urge wasn’t about comfort in the way most folks thought of it. It wasn’t about sex, wasn’t even about closeness, though he’d take any excuse to be close to her.
It was about the sound, the rhythm, the steady reminder that she was there and alive, that she hadn’t gone anywhere, that she chose to be with him.
His eyelids drooped, exhaustion tugging him under, and his thoughts slipped loose into the past.
He could still see her as a kid, grease smudged across her cheek, sitting cross-legged on the cold concrete floor of Rick’s auto shop. She was smaller then, but her eyes had been the same— sharp, unflinching, always daring him to try something she had already figured out. While Royal talked with Rick and Perry poked around the stacks of tires, Rhett had usually ended up circling Y/N like a restless colt, looking for some way to get under her skin.
“You can’t even hold a wrench right,” he’d teased once, picking one up and dangling it over her head.
Y/N had snatched it back with a glare that could have cracked glass. “At least I know what this does, dummy. You just like shiny things.”
He’d laughed, but secretly he’d liked the way she said it, like she was always a step ahead, always unbothered. Perry didn't play with them back then, used to say that he was "too grown up" to get involved in their childish fights, although sometimes he would join Rhett in annoying Y/N if he got bored enough. But Rhett had always orbited Y/N, even before he realized why.
When they were older, the orbit hadn’t stopped. He remembered the shock on everyone’s faces when they started showing up together, side by side, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The town had pegged Y/N as the kind of girl who didn’t need anybody, let alone a boyfriend. And Rhett— well, he had a reputation of his own. They didn’t match on paper. But it had felt right, as natural as breathing.
And that’s why he couldn’t tell her now. He couldn’t risk giving her one more reason to laugh at him. Even if it would’ve been the sweet kind of laugh, the one that ended in kisses and she murmuring about how cute he was.
Rhett blinked, tugged back to the present by the faint rustle of sheets. Y/N had shifted again, turning toward him. Her face was close now, closer than he expected, and for a dizzy second he thought she’d caught him.
“You ever think about when we were kids?” she asked suddenly, her voice quiet but cutting through the dark.
Rhett swallowed, careful with his words. “Sometimes.”
She gave a small huff, almost a laugh. “You were such a pain in the ass back then.”
That pulled a grin out of him, lazy but real. “Still am.”
“Yeah, but now I find it cute.”
The room went quiet again, but Rhett felt the air shift between them. Her confession was casual, tossed like a stone into water, but the ripples moved through him deep. He wanted to close the gap, to bury his face against her chest and hear what that admission sounded like from the inside, the thud of her heart when she said she liked him, not just as a childhood nuisance but as the man who made her fall in love —in some way he didn't understand yet—.
He almost moved. Almost.
But Y/N’s eyes were still open, watching him. Waiting. And Rhett, stubborn in his own way, just lay there, the secret pulling him in two.
The clock in the living room struck midnight. Its faint chime rattled through the walls, too soft to be loud, too persistent to be ignored. Y/N groaned, tossing her arm across her forehead.
“I hate nights like this,” she muttered, closing her eyes in another failed attempt to sleep. “It’s like my brain forgot how to shut off.”
Rhett turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand. His eyes stung from exhaustion, every muscle heavy with the need for rest. But none of it mattered unless she closed her eyes.
“You gotta stop thinkin’ so hard,” he said. “Just… Relax.”
Y/N cracked one eye open at him. “Oh, thanks, Doctor Sleep. That’s real helpful advice. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Rhett smirked despite himself. “Hey, I’m serious. You get wound up about not sleepin’, then you can’t sleep ‘cause you’re wound up.”
Y/N rolled onto her side to face him, mirroring his posture. “And what about you? You’re lookin’ pretty wound up yourself.”
That hit a little too close. Rhett felt his jaw tighten, his hand flexing against the pillow. He forced a shrug, casual. “Long day on the ranch. Muscles don’t know how to quit yet.”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed, skeptical. She was too damn sharp. Always had been. “Mm-hm. Or maybe you just want to be a good boyfriend and not leave me awake alone right now. That it?”
Rhett’s throat caught, too quick, too guilty. He barked a laugh to cover it, shaking his head. “Don’t flatter yourself, love.”
“Oh, come on. Admit it. You used to be out drinkin’ half the night, fallin’ asleep God knows where.” Y/N grinned like she’d won the shiniest prize. “Now you’re at my place every night like some big loyal dog.”
Rhett rolled his eyes, but the heat in his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe.” She leaned closer, her hair brushing his arm. “But you like me impossible.”
And she wasn’t wrong. He did. He liked her fire, her sharp tongue, the way she never let him skate by with half-truths. But right now it was dangerous. Because the longer she looked at him with that smart grin, the harder it got to keep his secret pressed down where it belonged.
Rhett tried to change the subject. “Remember when your uncle Rick caught me sneakin’ into the shop after hours?”
Y/N snorted. “How could I forget? You were tryin’ to ‘borrow’ spark plugs for your beat-up truck. He nearly wrung your neck.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t ’ve needed ‘em if Perry hadn’t fried the damn ignition.”
Y/N’s laughter filled the room, bright and unrestrained, and for a second it eased the tightness in his chest. He loved that sound. Almost as much as the other one. Almost.
When the laughter faded, silence fell again, thicker this time. Y/N reached out and traced a finger absently along his jaw, not looking at him, just feeling him. And Rhett, in his tired haze, leaned into the touch without thinking. His head dipped a fraction closer to her chest before he caught himself, snapping upright again.
Y/N noticed. Of course she noticed.
Her brows lifted, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “What was that?”
Rhett froze, searching for an escape. “What was what?”
“That little move you just pulled. You looked like you were about to-” she mimed laying her head down dramatically on her own chest, complete with exaggerated sighing noises.
Rhett groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Y/N...”
She grinned wickedly, sensing blood in the water. “What? You gettin’ shy on me, cowboy?”
He glared at her, but it only made her grin wider. Y/N thrived on his irritation, always had.
“Go to sleep,” he muttered.
“Can’t. Too busy wonderin’ why you’re actin’ like that.” She poked his chest, playful but probing. “C’mon, Rhett. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
His heart thudded, loud and uneven. If she pressed much harder, she’d have the truth spilling out before he could stop it. And wasn’t that the thing about Y/N? She always found the crack in his armor, and once she spotted it, she never let go.
Rhett shut his eyes, praying she’d lose interest, praying exhaustion would finally drag her under. But when he opened them again, she was still there, bright-eyed, waiting.
And he realized he wasn’t gonna last much longer.
Rhett thought maybe, just maybe, he could tough it out. If he kept quiet, if he held still, Y/N would eventually get bored of poking at him and drift into that restless half-sleep. He could wait. He’d waited every night before.
But Y/N was no ordinary opponent. She was stubborn, clever, and most dangerous of all, she knew him better than he knew himself.
One minute passed. Then five. The clock ticked, wind scraped against the siding, and Rhett’s eyelids kept falling heavy only to snap open again. Y/N hadn’t moved. She lay there on her side, studying him with that smug little curl of her lips, like a cat who’d cornered a mouse.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“You know,” she whispered, “if you keep starin’ at me like that, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re obsessed.”
The word landed too close. Rhett swallowed hard, his pulse betraying him. He turned his face toward the ceiling, hoping the shadows hid the truth. “I ain’t starin’.”
Y/N hummed, unconvinced. Then she shifted closer, so close he could smell the faint trace of motor oil that never seemed to leave her skin no matter how much soap she used. She lowered her voice, teasing but gentle. “Rhett Abbott… What is it you’re hidin’ from me?”
His chest tightened. He wanted to say nothing, wanted to shrug her off. But his body betrayed him. Exhaustion weighed him down, and the pull —that stupid, irresistible pull— had him leaning in before he realized it. His head dipped, brushing against her collarbone, lingering just above where her heartbeat thrummed.
Y/N went very still.
Rhett froze too, shame crashing over him like cold water. He pulled back instantly, cursing himself under his breath. “Shit-”
But Y/N caught his jaw in her hand, gentle but firm, keeping him from retreating further. Her eyes were wide, glimmering with amusement and something softer.
“Wait a damn second,” she murmured. “Is that what this is?”
Rhett’s mouth went dry. “What?”
Her smile spread slow, victorious. “You’ve been tryin’ to sleep on my chest, haven’t you?”
Heat flamed his face. He tried to jerk away, but she held on, laughing now, low and sweet. “Oh my God. You have. Haven’t you?”
“Y/N-” Rhett groaned and buried his face in his hands, knowing that his secret had ended there. “It’s not that, it’s just... I- uh. I sleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat.”
She pried his hands away, still laughing. “Rhett Abbott, tough rodeo star, can’t fall asleep unless he listens to my heart like a baby with a lullaby. That’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard, baby.”
“Don’t,” he muttered, half-growl, half-plea. “Don’t make fun of me.”
Y/N’s laughter softened, but her grin stayed. She slid closer, pressing her forehead against his. “Oh, I’m never lettin’ you live this down. But only because it’s adorable.”
Rhett’s chest ached, a mix of mortification and relief. “I knew you’d tease me.”
“Of course I’m gonna tease you, it's my job as your girlfriend.” she whispered, brushing her lips across his cheek. “But I’m also gonna let you do it. Every damn night until you get sick of that.”
He opened his eyes, meeting hers. For once, she wasn’t smirking, not fully. Her expression held something gentler, a tenderness she didn’t show often. It unraveled him, left him raw.
“You really don’t think it’s stupid?” he asked quietly.
Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands again. “No, Rhett. I think it’s sweet. Kinda silly, yeah. But sweet. And I like that you need me that way.”
Something in him loosened. The tension he’d carried for weeks slipped free, replaced by a bone-deep calm. Carefully, hesitantly, he lowered his head again, this time with her permission. Y/N shifted to make room, guiding him down until his cheek rested over her heart, relaxing her breathing to calm her heart rate.
The sound rushed into him at once. Steady. Strong. Alive.
He exhaled, a shudder of relief rolling through his body. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer. For the first time that night, his eyelids didn’t fight him. The weight of exhaustion began to ease.
Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, her touch absentminded but soothing.
“See?” She whispered into his hair. “Told you I don’t mind. In fact… I love it.”
Rhett cracked one eye open, peering up at her from his new perch. “You’re just sayin’ that.”
“Nope. I love knowin’ I’ve got somethin’ you can’t live without.” She smirked, pressing a kiss to his temple.
He groaned into her chest. “You’re gonna hold this over me forever, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
But her voice was softer now, her hand steady in his hair, her heartbeat drumming the rhythm he craved. And Rhett, finally, finally, let go.
The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was Y/N’s laugh —quiet, fond— and the heartbeat that had become his favorite sound in the world.
Extra (unedited, but I couldn't not put it here)
Rhett woke to the smell of coffee and sunlight. It was the kind of light that spilled lazy through thin curtains, soft and golden, the kind that made everything feel slower than it really was. He blinked against it, groggy but rested, more rested than he’d been in weeks. His cheek still tingled faintly with the memory of where it had been pressed all night.
Y/N's side of the bed was empty. The sheets were cool, her imprint fading, but the faint sound of her humming drifted in from the kitchen.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up, hair sticking up in about twelve directions. As he pulled on his shirt, he remembered —with a sinking mix of dread and fondness— what had happened last night.
She knew.
Y/N knew his secret, and there was no takin’ it back.
By the time he shuffled into the kitchen, she was already leaning against the counter, mug in hand. Her hair was tied up messy, her sweatshirt hanging off. She looked at him over the rim of her cup with that sly, knowing smile he’d come to fear and love in equal measure.
“Morning, heartbeat.”
Rhett stopped dead in the doorway. “Don’t.”
Y/N grinned, taking a slow sip. “Oh, I’m absolutely gonna.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You promised you wouldn’t-”
“I never promised that,” she cut in, eyes dancing. “I promised I’d let you keep doin’ it. The teasing comes free with purchase.”
Rhett dragged himself to the counter, leaning beside her. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable.” She bumped his hip with hers, then handed him the spare mug she’d already poured.
Despite himself, Rhett felt a smile tug at his mouth. He took a sip, watching her over the rim. She didn’t look like she was mocking him. Not really. She looked… Proud. Fond. Like she’d been let in on something that meant more than a joke.
Y/N set her mug down and leaned into him, casual but warm as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Y’know,” she said, “when I was a kid, I used to fall asleep in the shop when Uncle Rick was workin’. I’d lay on the old sofa he had in the back, listen to all the engines tickin’ and hummin’. It always made me feel safe. Maybe it’s the same thing for you.”
Rhett tilted his head, surprised. “Never knew that.”
She shrugged, smiling softly.
“Guess we both like steady rhythms.” Her eyes flicked to his. “Just so happens mine comes built-in.”
Heat rose in his chest, not the embarrassed kind this time but something steadier, stronger. He set down his mug and slid an arm around her, pulling her close. She went willingly, resting against him, her heartbeat pressed right where he liked it most.
“Careful, cowboy. You’ll get addicted.” Y/N smirked against his chest.
Rhett kissed the top of her head, his voice low but sure. “Too late for that.”
For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter, not the ranch, not the weight of his father’s expectations, not the eyes of a town that never stopped whispering. It was just them, the sound of coffee dripping in the pot, and that steady beat under his ear.
And Rhett thought, for once in his life, he could live with being teased forever, if it meant nights like this, mornings like this, and a heart that always kept him steady.
Series Summary: Life after the Uranium Mission should have been simple: training flights, late nights at the Hard Deck, the Dagger Team closer than ever. But for Robert "Bob" Floyd and Y/N "Firecracker" Y/L/N, keeping their new relationship under wraps is harder than pulling G’s at Mach speed. Between nosy teammates and a few too many close calls, secrets don’t stay secret for long and they're going to have to work hard to keep their relationship under the radar.
• Stuck in San Diego (5.1k)
After the Uranium mission, the Dagger Team is called to a last-minute meeting at the base. One —or two— unexpected surprises are revealed. Then, Y/N needs help with her new bed.
• Bed Chem (6.1k) (+18)
Y/N was excited to try her new bed, although that happened sooner than she thought. Now the question is whether Bob is actually good at building beds.
• We shouldn't, or should we? (4.5k) (+18)
Bob and Y/N talk about what happened and decide that keeping things between them would be best for now. Then Nat finds something, and Y/N has to explain herself.
Summary: It was well known in town the strange rumor that circulated around Y/N since she was a child, that she could see things. Now, with a Tillerson dead, she was in the crosshairs.
Warnings: Use of Y/N. Fem!Reader. Typical Outer Range violence. Mentions of Trevor's death. Perry culpability -more like all the Abbott's-. Reader and Rhett had a fwb relationship. Curse words. Drama.
Word count: 8.8k
Authors note: Just finished reading “Cometierra” -which in english would mean something like “earth eater” or “dirt eater”-, so this is heavily inspired by it, with all the respect it deserves because it touches on sensitive topics. Also I didn't finish Outer Range to be honest, I started watching it because of Lewis, but I'm not the biggest fan of time travel stuff, so if something is wrong with the story, just ignore it.
General Masterlist Requests Rhett's pov/pt. 2
The plains had a way of keeping secrets. Flat stretches of gold and rust-colored grass rolled on forever until they bled into the dark cut of the mountains. To an outsider, Wyoming could seem endless, hollow, a place so open it left no room to hide. But Rhett Abbott had grown up knowing the opposite: this land swallowed things whole. Time, cattle, men, and sometimes even truth. The soil remembered them, maybe. He wasn’t sure. He only knew the dirt under his boots always seemed heavier these days, as though it bore the weight of every lie and every sin his family had stacked upon it.
The Abbott ranch had seen better years. Fences sagged in places where wire needed pulling, and the barns, painted red once upon a time, now carried more sun-bleached pink than anything vibrant. Autumn had settled early, bringing with it a sharpness to the night air, and Rhett worked his way through the chores without complaint. He didn’t need to be told twice when Royal barked orders. Not anymore. Things had changed too much for the comfort of rebellion. After Perry's... Accident with Trevor Tillerson, every move the Abbott men made felt stitched with consequence.
It wasn’t just the act itself —though God knows that would’ve been plenty— it was everything surrounding it. The way time seemed bent and broken on this land. The hole. The strange presence of Autumn. The haunting sense that fate was circling them, waiting for one more misstep. Rhett wasn’t sure if he believed in curses, but if there was ever a place where curses clung to the soil, it was here.
Still, the days passed with cattle, with dust, with the mechanical rhythm of ranch work. And in that rhythm, Rhett found himself falling back into something he thought he’d left behind: Y/N.
Y/N wasn’t an Abbott, though she might as well have been. Their families had been neighbors for generations, land divided by a few miles. She and Rhett had grown up side by side, running through tall grass, daring each other to climb wind-bent cottonwoods, whispering secrets under stars when they were too young to understand the weight of keeping them.
By the time high school came around, people assumed they’d end up together. They went to the same football games, same bonfires, same rodeos. But life wasn’t as simple as that. Y/N was stubborn, always had been, and Rhett. Well, Rhett carried that Abbott restlessness, that tendency to burn bridges before realizing he’d need them to get home. They drifted. He dated other girls, she went her own way. Yet no matter what, she was still there, a fixed point in his life like the mountains on the horizon.
It wasn’t until the past couple of weeks, after too many beers on a night when neither of them could sleep, that things shifted.
One kiss, then another. It led them to end up tangled up in Y/N's bed by the morning. A promise of nothing serious. Friend with benefits, as Y/N had called it, almost daring him to laugh. He hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted to. She was familiar, safe, and in the chaos of everything unraveling around his family, she was the one thing that didn’t demand anything from him but simplicity in the moment.
The trouble was, moments didn’t last.
Y/N had her own shadows, though Rhett didn’t know half of them. Everyone in town had heard the whispers years ago. Rumors about the Y/L/N girl with the strange habit. Dirt-eater, they’d called her behind her back. Said if she pressed her tongue to the soil, she could see things nobody should see. Missing hunters, dead deer, even the neighbor’s lost dog. Most wrote it off as small-town gossip, the kind of nonsense bored kids made up to scare each other or make fun of her.
Rhett had laughed along when he was younger, later when he noticed how Y/N’s face stiffened when those stories came up, he made it his mission to beat any child who dared to mention it.
He never asked her if it was true. Not once. Maybe because part of him was afraid of the answer. Maybe he didn't care, couldn't believe it. Maybe because he knew that if she ever said yes, he’d have to look at her differently, and he didn’t want that. Y/N was just Y/N: the girl who punched him in the arm when he teased her, the woman who leaned against his truck bed on long nights with a beer in hand, the only person who could cut through his temper with a single look. He wanted to keep her human. Not strange. Not burdened.
But the land had a way of dragging secrets into the light.
That evening, Rhett found her on the fence line between their ranches. She sat on the top rail, boots dangling, hair catching the last fire of the sunset. Y/N never looked out of place on the land, she belonged to it the way mesquite or cottonwoods did, weathered and rooted. She raised her chin as he approached, a half-smile curling on her lips.
"You look like shit," she said, greeting him the way she always did: blunt and without ceremony.
"Thnks," Rhett drawled, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. "Been fixin’ fence since dawn."
"Well, the fence don’t fix itself."
"Wish it do." he said, and the corner of her mouth tugged upward just a little more.
There was comfort in the banter, in the way they fell back into rhythms older than they were. He leaned on the fence beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her knee brushing his arm. She didn’t move away. She never did anymore.
"Your brother holdin’ up?" she asked, her voice softer now. "Y'know, after Rebeca and Amy."
Rhett stiffened, then shrugged. Perry was a weight he carried like a stone in his chest. "As much as he can."
Y/N nodded, eyes fixed on the horizon. She didn’t pry, not like others would have. That was one of the things Rhett liked about her, she knew when silence was better than words.
They stayed there for a while, the light fading, the land settling into its nighttime quiet. Somewhere out in the distance, a coyote howled. Rhett glanced at Y/N, at the way her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the frayed edge of her shirt sleeve. He wondered, not for the first time, if she knew more than she let on. If she carried truths in her that he couldn’t begin to understand.
He pushed the thought away. Whatever ghosts haunted her, they weren’t his to name.
"Beer?" he asked finally.
She smirked. "Always."
The Abbott porch creaked under their boots as they settled into chairs with bottles in hand. Royal was inside, his presence as heavy as a stormcloud even when he wasn’t in the room. Cecelia busied herself in the kitchen, humming hymns to keep from hearing too much. The whole house felt strung tight these days, but Y/N cut through it like she belonged. She always had. Even when they were kids, she was welcome at their table, a daughter Cecelia never got to raise.
Now, though, there was a different electricity in the air between her and Rhett. One neither of them named, though it was obvious to anyone with eyes. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t anything, not really. But every time their shoulders brushed, every time her laugh slipped out low and easy in the dark, Rhett felt that tether pulling tighter.
He told himself it didn’t matter. That what they had was temporary, casual. But out here, in the quiet of the ranch with the night folding in around them, he couldn’t ignore the way she felt like the only real thing he had left.
And somewhere, deep down, he suspected that the land wasn’t done with either of them yet.
Especially when the weight of what Perry had done, and how he'd dragged him down with it, still lingered in the back of Rhett's mind.
Luke Tillerson was not a man who let things go. Everyone in town knew that. If Wayne, his father, was the wild storm that tore through people without warning, then Luke was the relentless drought that withered you down slowly. He didn’t shout, not usually. He didn’t throw tantrums the way Trevor used to, singing his strange songs and swaying like a prophet in the dirt. Luke was the kind of man who fixed his eyes on a thing and did not look away until he got what he wanted, or until he burned it to the ground.
And what Luke wanted now was the truth about his brother.
The Tillersons didn’t grieve like other families. Grief, to them, was a weapon. A reason to hunt, to blame, to gnaw down into the marrow of whoever might be responsible. And everyone in town suspected that if Trevor Tillerson had vanished —or worse— then the Abbotts had something to do with it. Luke didn’t have proof. Not yet. But he had an idea, and an idea was enough to sharpen into suspicion. Enough to send him circling around the edges of Y/N's life like a wolf who’d caught the faintest whiff of blood.
Y/N wasn’t naïve. She knew Luke would come. After Trevor disappeared, the whole town hummed with speculation. Some folks whispered about the Abbotts, some about the strange girl named Autumn who was new in town. But she just hoped Luke didn't remember the rumors about her from when they were kids.
Y/N had spent her entire life stomping down those whispers. She laughed them off when she could, got into fights when she had to. It was one thing for kids to call her a freak back in school. It was another for grown men with guns and grudges to look at her like she was their last chance at answers.
So when Luke Tillerson showed up at her door two weeks after Trevor disappeared, she wasn’t surprised. She was angry, yes. But not surprised.
"Evenin’, Y/N," Luke said, tipping his hat like he was stopping by for coffee instead of looming on her porch like a shadow.
"Luke." Y/N leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Can’t say I was expectin’ company. Especially you."
He smiled, sharp and thin. "Figure you knew I’d come around sooner or later."
"Don't know why you're here." She let out a heavy sigh.
"I’m here about Trevor."
"Well, I can’t help you. I don’t know anything."
"See, that’s where we disagree," Luke said, his boots scraping the porch wood as he shifted closer. "Word’s been ‘round for years, Y/N. Word that you’ve got… A little thing."
Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Christ, not this again."
"You can laugh it off if you want," Luke said, voice steady. "But I believe there’s truth in rumors. And I believe you can help me find out what happened to my brother."
"There ain’t nothin’ to believe. I don’t know what happened." Her skin prickled. "You want answers, go ask the sheriff. Don’t come sniffin’ ‘round here like I got some magic trick up my sleeve."
Luke studied her for a long time. Then, without another word, he tipped his hat again and stepped off her porch. But Y/N knew better than to think that was the end of it. Men like Luke didn’t walk away. They waited. They pressed. They circled back until you gave in or broke.
She didn’t tell Rhett. She couldn’t.
Rhett had a temper. Always had. That Abbott fire burned hot in him, sometimes too hot, and Y/N knew if she breathed a word about Luke lurking around, Rhett would march himself straight to the Tillerson ranch and pick a fight he didn't need right now.
God knows the Abbotts had enough blood on their hands already.
So she swallowed it. Every knock on her door, every quiet threat downtown, every heavy look Luke laid on her when he caught her in town. She told herself she could handle it. That if she stood firm, if she kept insisting she didn’t know anything, he’d eventually get bored and move on. That’s what bullies did, right? They moved on.
Except Luke Tillerson wasn’t just a bully. He was a man grieving and hunting, and men like that didn’t stop.
The night it all came to a head was supposed to be simple. Just her and Rhett. No family, no rumors, no ghosts of the dead pressing at their backs.
Rhett had shown up at her place late, after chores, smelling like hay and sweat and the faint spice of the beer he’d downed before driving over. Y/N let him in without hesitation. Her little house, modest and tucked against the cottonwoods, felt different when he was inside it. Smaller, warmer. Like the walls leaned in to listen.
They didn’t talk much that night. Words had never been the thing between them. They knew each other too well for that. Instead, Rhett pressed her against the kitchen counter, lips hard and hungry, and she laughed against his mouth before kissing him back with equal fire. His hands were rough, callused from work, but they found her waist like they belonged there. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, the beer bottle clattering forgotten onto the counter.
They were a second away from stumbling away from the kitchen and into the bedroom —the living room sofa if we're honest—. Breathless, clothes half-peeled away, the kind of kiss that left no room for thinking. For a moment, Y/N forgot everything else. Forgot Luke. Forgot Trevor. Forgot the strange weight of the dirt beneath her fingernails which remained even when she washed her hands over and over again.
And then came the knock.
Hard. Heavy. Relentless.
Rhett froze, lips still pressed against her collarbone. "You expectin’ someone?"
Her stomach dropped. She knew. Even before she moved, before she pushed Rhett back and scrambled for her shirt, she knew.
"Y/N!" Luke’s voice came muffled through the door. "We need to talk."
Rhett’s eyes snapped to hers, sharp and furious. "The hell’s he doin’ here?"
Y/N’s heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else. She grabbed his arm, nails digging into his skin.
"Don’t," she whispered, fierce and desperate. "Please, Rhett. Just leave it, he'll go eventually."
He looked at her like she’d lost her damn mind. "He has been botherin’ you? And you didn’t tell me?"
Another knock, harder this time.
"Y/N!" Luke’s voice carried, cold and demanding. "Open up."
Y/N’s throat tightened. She wanted to explain, to tell Rhett everything, but the words jammed up in her chest. She had thought she could handle Luke on her own. She had thought she could keep Rhett safe from this. But now here they were, cornered, the night collapsing in on them.
And Luke Tillerson was not going away.
Y/N’s palms were pressed flat against Rhett’s chest, her heartbeat thudding so hard she could feel it in her teeth. He was a furnace under her hands, his breath ragged, his jaw clenched so tight she thought it might crack. His eyes, usually that stormy blue-gray that could soften when he smiled at her, were sharp now, like steel catching firelight. He wasn’t yelling, not yet, but she knew the line he was standing on. One more step and he’d explode. Rhett Abbott didn’t simmer. He boiled over.
The pounding at the door came again. Luke’s voice followed, calm but insistent. "Y/N. Don’t make me wait all night."
She pressed harder against Rhett, forcing him back a step.
"You need to stay here," she whispered, low and urgent. "Let me handle this."
Rhett stared at her like she’d lost her damn mind. "Handle this? He’s at your door in the middle of the night, Y/N. You call that handlin’ it?"
"Please," she said, her voice breaking just enough to make him falter. "Just… Let me talk to him. If you go out there right now, you’ll make it worse. You know you will."
He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling under her hands, but he didn’t push past her. Not yet. That was as close to calm as Rhett Abbott got.
Y/N smoothed her hair with shaky fingers, tugged her shirt down over her bare stomach, and walked toward the door. Every step felt heavy. When she pulled it open, the cool night air rushed in, carrying with it the sharp scent of sage and dust. Luke Tillerson stood on her porch, tall and smug, his hat tipped low and his mouth already curved in that infuriating half-smile.
"Well, there she is," Luke drawled. "Was wonderin’ how long it’d take."
Y/N planted herself in the doorway, arms crossed tight over her chest. "What the hell do you think you’re doin’, comin’ ‘round here this time of night?"
"What? You alone?" Luke said, his gaze flicking past her shoulder like he knew Rhett was there. "But I reckon I already got my answer."
Her cheeks burned, but she stood her ground.
"I told you before, Luke. Whatever you think you know about me, you don’t. Those rumors? That’s all they are, rumors. Kids made up stupid stories ‘cause I was different, and folks been runnin’ their mouths ever since. But I don’t know nothin’. I can’t help you."
Luke tilted his head, studying her like she was a riddle.
"See, Y/N, I don’t believe that. My brother’s gone, and you’ve got a reputation for… Seein’ things. If you expect me to believe you can’t do it, well-" He clicked his tongue. "That’s a tough sell."
Y/N’s hands curled into fists at her sides.
"I’m sorry about Trevor. I really am. But I don’t know what happened to him, and I can’t give you what you’re lookin’ for. So you need to stop knockin’ on my door and start mindin’ your own business."
"You talk pretty tough for someone hidin’ behind a half open door." Luke’s smile widened, all teeth now.
"Shut up." Her voice cracked like a whip. "I’m done talkin’ about this. You want answers? Go dig ‘em up yourself. But don’t come draggin’ me into your family’s mess."
For a moment, silence stretched. Then Luke leaned in just slightly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"Careful, Y/N. Dirt’s got a way of revealin’ things. You might not like what comes up."
Her blood ran cold. She didn’t flinch, though. She stared him down until his smirk twisted, until the threat in his words settled deep in her bones.
Behind her, loud, heavy footsteps echoed up to the door. Rhett stormed out, fury etched in every line of his body.
"That’s it," he growled, stepping onto the porch. "You’re done here."
Luke didn’t move at first. He looked Rhett up and down, amused. "Night’, Abbott. Didn’t know you were keepin’ company."
"Get off her property," Rhett said, his voice low but deadly. "Now."
"Didn’t mean no harm. Just askin’ a neighborly question." Luke tipped his hat like he was humoring a child.
"Don’t give a damn what you want. You don’t come knockin’ on her door like this again. You don’t speak to her. You don’t look at her. You so much as breathe in her direction, and I’ll-" He stopped himself, jaw working, fists clenching so tight his knuckles went white.
"Always the hothead, huh, Rhett? Guess some things never change." Luke chuckled, stepping back off the porch. He turned his gaze back to Y/N, sharp as a knife. "Think about what I said. ‘Cause I ain’t goin’ anywhere."
With that, he strolled off into the night, his boots crunching gravel until the sound faded into silence.
Y/N shut the door, her hands trembling, her chest heaving like she’d run a mile. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Rhett paced the living room, running both hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. Finally, he spun to face her.
"How long?" His voice was rough, angry. "How long’s he been botherin’ you?"
Y/N swallowed hard. "Couple weeks."
"Couple-" Rhett’s laugh was humorless, sharp. "Jesus Christ, Y/N. And you didn’t think to tell me?"
"I didn’t want to make it worse, okay?"
"Worse?" His voice rose, booming in the small space. "You think keepin’ it from me made it better? That son of a bitch has been harassin’ you, and I’ve been sittin’ at the ranch like a goddamn fool while you-"
He broke off, too angry to finish. Y/N stepped forward, her own anger sparking now.
"What was I supposed to do, Rhett? Run to you every time some man looked at me sideways? You can’t fight all my battles for me."
"This ain’t just some man lookin’ at you sideways! It’s Tillerson! He’s dangerous, Y/N. And he thinks you know somethin’ about Trevor."
"I told him I don’t!" she snapped. "I told him it’s all bullshit. But if you’d gone stormin’ over there, we’d be dealin’ with a hell of a lot more than angry words. You know that as well as I do."
Rhett shook his head, pacing again. "You should’ve trusted me."
"And what would you have done, Rhett? Punched him? Shot him? Ended up in jail while your family’s already hangin’ by a thread? You think that would’ve helped?"
His silence was answer enough. He didn’t know what to say, because deep down, he knew she was right. But that didn’t stop the fury in his eyes, the way his hands still twitched like they needed to hit something.
Her chest tightened. Y/N’s voice softened, but only a little. "I was tryin’ to protect you. Protect both of us. I thought I could handle it."
Rhett looked at her then, really looked at her, and what he saw made his anger twist into something else. Hurt. Betrayal.
"You don’t get it, do you? I don’t need protectin’ from you, Y/N. I need you to trust me. We’ve been through too much for you to keep shit like this from me."
Y/N blinked hard, her throat tight. She wanted to explain, to tell him everything, but the words wouldn’t come. Because even now, even after Luke’s threats, she wasn’t sure Rhett could handle the whole truth of what she was.
They stood there, the space between them heavy with words unsaid, anger sharp enough to cut. The night outside was quiet again, but inside Y/N’s house, the storm had only just begun.
Rhett was still pacing like a caged bull, his jaw working, his fists clenched at his sides. Y/Nstill stood near the door, arms crossed, her skin hot with leftover adrenaline. They were both breathing hard, as though they’d been running, though neither had moved more than a few steps.
"You should’ve told me," Rhett said again, voice raw. "From the start. I had a right to know."
Y/N let out a bitter laugh. "A right? Since when do you get to decide what I do or don’t tell you, Rhett? Last I checked, my life’s still my own."
He stopped pacing, spinning on his heel to glare at her.
"This ain’t just about you, Y/N. When Luke Tillerson shows up at your door, it’s about all of us. You keepin’ secrets like this- damn it, it puts me in the dark, makes me look like a fool, and it puts you in danger."
Her voice sharpened, cutting through his anger. "Yeah, well... I’ve handled it just fine without you."
"Handled it?" His eyes narrowed, his chest heaving. "You call lettin’ that bastard corner you in your own house handlin’ it?"
"I called him out, didn’t I?" she snapped. "I told him to his face that it was all bullshit, that I don’t know a damn thing about Trevor. That’s more than anyone else in this town has the guts to say to a Tillerson."
Rhett’s laugh was sharp, humorless. "And what’d that get you? More threats. More nights lookin’ over your shoulder. You think he’s gonna stop ‘cause you said some big words?"
Y/N’s throat burned, but she refused to back down.
"What do you want me to do, Rhett? You want me to run cryin’ to you every time he shows up? You want me to sit around and wait for you to swoop in like some goddamn hero? That’s not how this works. This is my life, my fight."
Rhett’s voice dropped, low and furious. "It’s my fight too."
Her chest tightened, her anger folding in on itself until it was sharp and dangerous. She hated how much he could get under her skin, how easily he made her feel cornered.
"And why’s that, huh? Why’s it your fight?" she demanded. "We’re not together, Rhett. You made that real clear. You didn’t want labels. Didn’t want serious. Just fun, just casual. So why the hell are you actin’ like my problems are yours all of a sudden?"
The words hit him like a blow. She saw it. The way his shoulders stiffened, the way something in his eyes shuttered. For a second, he looked less like the furious, restless man she knew and more like a boy again, blindsided and hurt.
But Rhett being Rhett, he didn’t say that. He didn’t show it, not really. He just let the silence stretch, his jaw tight, his hands flexing like he wanted to punch something, anything. Then he turned, grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, his hat, and stormed out the door without another word.
The slam of the door rattled the walls. The sound echoed through Y/N’s chest, leaving her hollow.
She stood there in the quiet, her own words replaying in her head, sharper and crueler with every echo.
God, what had she done? She hadn’t meant it like that. Not really. She’d only wanted to push him back, to keep him from blowing up worse than he already had. But instead, she’d cut him deep. She knew it. She felt it in her bones.
Y/N pressed her palms to her face, groaning into the silence. She wanted to chase after him, to grab him by the shirt and drag him back inside, to say she hadn’t meant it. That she didn’t know how to do this. Didn’t know how to let someone in without shoving them away first. But her pride held her in place. And her fear. Fear of what it meant to admit that maybe, just maybe, she wanted Rhett Abbott to be more than what they’d said they were.
The clock on the wall ticked loud in the stillness. One minute bled into another. Her regret gnawed at her.
So when someone knocked on the door, her heart leapt. She rushed, already rehearsing what she’d say. She’d apologize. She’d tell him she hadn’t meant it. She’d tell him that maybe she needed him more than she wanted to admit.
She flung the door open, breathless.
But it wasn’t Rhett.
Luke Tillerson stood on her porch, hat still tipped low, eyes glinting in the porch light like a predator’s. His smirk spread slow, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night.
"Hi again." he drawled. "Looks like we got some unfinished business."
The cold that rushed into her house wasn’t from the night air. It was from him. From the realization that he’d been waiting for Rhett to leave.
And now, she was alone. With him.
Y/N’s hand froze on the doorknob as the weight of Luke’s words seeped into her bones.
"Gonna let me in?" he had said, his voice slick with satisfaction, like a hunter stepping into a trap he’d set himself. And when she didn’t slam the door in his face fast enough, he slipped past her, uninvited, into her living room.
The air changed when he entered, thick and sour. Luke carried the stink of oil and money, of something rotten under the skin of a man who thought the world owed him. His boots clicked on the wooden floor as he looked around her modest space, like he was cataloging every detail, every weakness.
"Get out, Luke," Y/N said sharply, her voice low but steady. She shut the door behind him with a snap, heart pounding. "You’ve got no right to be here."
Luke turned, his smirk curling as his eyes raked over her.
"See, that’s where you’re wrong. I got everything right. My brother’s dead. And you… Well, you’re sittin’ on answers, aren’t you?"
Y/N crossed her arms, trying to make herself look bigger, stronger than the trembling in her stomach allowed.
"I told you already, I don’t know anything. The rumors, they’re garbage. Kids talkin’, that’s all."
He stepped closer, and his shadow stretched across her floor.
"You know, I never put much stock in gossip myself. But then I got to thinkin’… Every rumor’s got a seed of truth, doesn't it? And when it comes to you, Y/N Y/L/N, that seed goes back a ways. Back to your momma."
Y/N flinched before she could stop herself. He caught it, of course. Luke was the kind of man who fed on weakness.
"Yeah," he said softly, almost gleefully. "I know ‘bout her. Whole town pretends like she was just quiet, calm girl. But I heard the real stories. Heard she wasn’t exactly… God-fearin’. Heard she had herself a different way of prayin’. Somethin’ dark."
Y/N’s chest tightened. "Shut your mouth."
Luke chuckled, slow and cruel.
"Hit a nerve, did I? That’s ‘cause you know it’s true. Your momma played with things decent folks don’t even dare to think. And then one day, her little girl’s caught eatin’ dirt, and suddenly she’s seein’ things. Like the earth itself is revelin’ secrets through you."
Y/N shook her head hard, but the protest caught in her throat. The truth of it, her earliest memory of soil between her teeth, of the strange way her stomach twisted and her mind split open to images that weren’t hers, was a shadow she could never outrun. But she’d never spoken it aloud. Not to anyone. Not even Rhett.
"You don’t know a damn thing about my mom," she spat.
Luke’s grin widened. "I know enough. And I know you’ve been lyin’ to me. But that stops tonight."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small jar, glass smeared with dust, the lid screwed on tight. Y/N’s stomach dropped as soon as she saw it. Inside was soil, dark, clotted with bits of gravel and dead grass.
Luke shook it lightly, the dirt shifting with a dull sound.
"Look at this. Took it from the floor of the tree that Trevor liked. Thought maybe you’d have a harder time sayin’ no if I brought it to you myself."
Y/N’s breath caught in her chest. She backed up a step, hitting the edge of the kitchen counter.
"You sick bastard."
Luke’s voice hardened, losing its mocking lilt. "You’re gonna eat this, Y/N. You’re gonna chew it down and tell me what you see. You can fight me all you want, but you and I both know you’ll see somethin’. You always do."
Her heart pounded, memories crashing into her. Being five years old, dirt gritty between her teeth as the face of a missing hiker slammed into her vision; being twelve, gagging on mud after kids dared her, her body convulsing with the sight of the dead body of a missing girl miles away. She had spent years refusing it, denying it, burying it.
"If you think for one second I’m gonna let you shove that down my throat, you’re out of your damn mind." Y/N steadied her voice, though her hands trembled.
Luke stepped closer, jar in hand. "You ain’t got a choice."
"I’ll scream," she warned, chin lifted. "Someone will hear."
Luke chuckled. "You think anyone’s comin’ runnin’ if you scream? Out here? Nearest neighbor’s half a mile off. And besides... Folks already think you’re strange. What’s one more story about Y/N Y/L/N losin’ her mind in the middle of the night?"
Her nails dug into the countertop behind her, grounding herself, stopping her knees from buckling. Fear coiled tight in her stomach, but beneath it, rage sparked. Rage at him for standing in her house with his boots dirtying her floor, for spitting her mother’s name like poison, for dragging her curse out into the open.
Y/N’s voice dropped to a low growl. "You don’t know what you’re playin’ with."
"Then you can show me." Luke leaned in close, so close she could smell the sour whiskey on his breath.
He unscrewed the jar with a deliberate twist, the scrape of metal against glass echoing in her ears. The scent of damp earth filled the room, heavy and raw, and Y/N’s throat constricted. Her body remembered before her mind did, the taste of it, the visions clawing at her skull.
"Eat. And tell me what happened to my brother." Luke held the jar out like an offering. Or a demand.
Y/N stared at it, heart slamming, terror and fury warring inside her. She knew if she gave in, if she let that dirt touch her tongue, there would be no going back. She’d see Trevor’s end. She’d see everything.
"You're sick," she murmured, a strangled cry escaping her throat as he lunged at her.
Luke’s hand was iron on her jaw, rough fingers digging into her cheeks as he forced her mouth open. Y/N struggled, twisting, clawing at his wrist, but he was stronger, fueled by desperation and anger. The grit of earth scraped her lips as he shoved a fistful from the jar into her mouth. The dirt was damp, tasting of earth and rain and rot. Her gag reflex fired instantly; she choked, coughed, spat, but too much of it clung to her tongue, thick and coarse against the back of her throat.
And then it began.
The world tilted sideways, vision tunneling as the taste of soil seeped into her bloodstream. The floor vanished beneath her feet, replaced by darkness and the distant sound of hooves pounding like drums. Y/N’s chest tightened as the earth opened its mouth inside her mind and poured the truth into her.
She saw flashes.
Trevor Tillerson standing outside the bar. Perry stood opposite him, fists clenched, his rage shaking the air. His hands on Trevor.
The sound of Trevor's body hitting the ground rang in Y/N’s skull like thunder. Dirt and blood mingled beneath him. Perry's face—God, his face— was twisted with horror as he looked down at what he had done.
Y/N’s breath rasped against the dirt still in her throat as the vision seared itself into her bones. She felt Perry’s panic, his helplessness, Trevor's last broken breath fading into the night.
And she knew —knew beyond denial— that the Abbott were tethered to this death inescapably.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, spitting clumps of soil onto the hardwood. Luke loomed above her, eyes wide with fevered expectation.
"Well?" he demanded. "What did you see? Tell me, Y/N. Tell me now!"
Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, forcing her breathing steady. Her mind was reeling, her heart shattering with the weight of what she’d witnessed. The thought that Rhett —her Rhett— maybe was dragged into Perry’s violence, caught in the snare of it all. The image of his face haunted her even as she sat shaking on the floor.
But she couldn’t tell Luke. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction, or the weapon. If she confirmed the truth, she’d condemn the Abbotts.
She’d condemn Rhett.
Y/N hacked and gagged, doubling over like the dirt was still choking her. She forced a bitter laugh through her tears.
"You’re insane," she rasped. "You really believe this crap? That if you shove dirt in my mouth I’ll see somethin’? Jesus, Luke. You’re pathetic."
Luke’s expression twisted, first confusion, then disbelief, then fury. He crouched low, his face inches from hers.
"You’re lyin’."
Y/N shoved at his chest, weak but defiant.
"I didn’t see a damn thing! You hear me? Nothin’. Just dirt. Just filth, like you! Whatever you think you know about me, about my mom, it’s bullshit. Just a stupid story this fucking bored town made up! Now get the hell out of my house!"
Luke’s jaw worked as if he were grinding his teeth to dust. His eyes bored into hers, searching, demanding. But Y/N held firm, masking the terror in her chest, masking the truth clawing at her tongue.
Finally, he stood, towering over her, the jar clutched tight in his hand.
"You’re a terrible liar, Y/L/N," he said, voice low and venomous. "And I don’t believe you for a second."
He moved toward the door, his boots striking heavy on the floorboards. Before he left, he turned back, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile.
"You can hide it all you want. But the truth’s gonna come out. And when it does, you’ll wish you’d been honest with me tonight."
The door slammed behind him, rattling the frame. Silence crashed into the house, broken only by Y/N’s ragged breathing. She sat trembling on the floor, soil smeared across her lips, her hands, her shirt. Her chest ached with the vision still burning inside her.
Trevor’s death. Perry’s hands. Rhett’s face.
Her secret was intact, for now. Luke didn’t believe her denial, but he couldn’t prove it. She had bought Rhett and Perry time, but at a cost: the weight of the truth pressing down on her ribs, suffocating her. She pulled her knees to her chest, rocking slightly, the taste of earth still bitter on her tongue.
And for the first time in years, Y/N wondered if her mother had cursed her, or gifted her. And whether that gift would destroy the people she loved most.
Y/N hadn’t slept. She’d lain awake on the living room floor long after Luke had left, dirt still caked at the corners of her mouth, stomach aching from where she’d forced herself to gag it up. The vision wouldn’t leave her, it pressed against the inside of her skull every time she closed her eyes. Perry’s fury. Trevor's face. All of it etched into her mind with a permanence that felt like fire burned into wood.
By the time dawn came, her body was heavy, but her thoughts were sharper than ever. And every one of them was about Rhett.
She’d seen the truth. The truth she’d tried so hard to deny, even to herself: The Abbott's were tangled in Trevor’s death.
She knew them, there was no way they didn't know. Not by choice at least but tangled all the same. The knowledge sat inside her like a stone. It made her want to run to Rhett, to wrap her arms around him, to tell him she understood that he carried a weight no one should bear alone.
But it also made her stomach twist with something colder. Fear. Because now she had proof, and proof meant danger.
If Luke ever found out that she really did see it, if anyone ever found out what she knew, it would destroy them both.
She tried to push it all aside. She scrubbed her face until her skin was raw, brushed her teeth four times, but the taste of dirt clung stubbornly to her tongue. When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her eyes were darker, ringed with exhaustion, her lips cracked. She looked like someone who carried secrets. And maybe she always had.
By midmorning, she forced herself to town. She needed groceries, needed to remind herself that life still ticked forward. That the world didn’t stop just because hers had cracked in half.
The general store was crowded, faces she’d known her whole life nodding politely as she passed. Y/N smiled where she had to, muttered greetings, kept her head down. But she felt the stares, the way people’s eyes lingered a second too long, even if it was all in her mind. She wondered if they knew, if somehow it was written on her skin what Luke had made her do.
Her hands shook as she bagged her groceries. Paper crinkled loud in her ears. She was halfway to the truck when she heard it: "Y/N."
Her heart stuttered. She turned and there he was, Rhett. Broad shoulders tense, eyes soft in that way that always undid her. Just the sight of him almost split her in two.
For one aching second, she felt relief. Relief that he was there, alive, whole. Relief that she wasn’t carrying the vision alone. Relief that maybe she could still lean on him.
And then it hit her: he didn’t know she knew. He didn’t know she’d seen all that night. And if she let him see anything in her eyes now, anything at all, it could unravel everything.
So she forced it down. The softness. The urge to fall into him.
"Rhett," she said, flat as she could manage.
He stopped just in front of her, searching her face like he could peel back every wall she was throwing up.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, careful.
Y/N’s breath caught. No, she wasn’t okay. She wanted to scream, “No, Rhett, I know it all, I know about your brother's secret”.
But the words stayed trapped, her chest a cage.
"I’m fine," she said instead, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Just tired."
He didn’t believe her. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed, the way his jaw tightened.
"You sure?"
Her grip tightened on the grocery bag. If she let herself falter now, even a little, she’d spill everything. So she hardened her voice.
"I said I’m fine, Rhett."
She moved to step past him, but his hand caught her elbow. Gentle. Too gentle. And it nearly broke her. She froze, every part of her wanting to lean into that touch, to let him anchor her. But she couldn’t, not now. Not when she knew.
He let go quickly, eyes full of words he wasn’t saying. "Look, about last night-"
"Don’t," she cut him off, sharper than she meant. She looked up at him, heart pounding, and the sight of him —his worry, his confusion— almost undid her. "Just… Don’t."
His face twisted like she’d gutted him. She hated herself for it, hated the way the pain flickered across his features. But if she let him close, if she opened her mouth and let the truth slip, she’d damn them both.
She turned before he could answer, marched to her truck, groceries clutched like a shield. She didn’t look back until she was behind the wheel, and when she did, she saw him standing there on the sidewalk, cigarette in hand, staring at the place she’d just been like he could still feel her there.
Y/N gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white. She wanted to run back, to throw the door open, to tell him everything. That she knew, that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she could carry it with him. That he didn’t have to be alone.
But she didn’t. Because she knew the second she did, the secret would stop being hers. And then it would destroy them both.
Driving away, tears blurred the road. She bit them back, pressing her lips tight. She told herself it was better this way. Safer. If she kept the secret, Rhett had a chance. If she didn’t, if Luke ever found out she’d lied, it would all come crashing down.
And yet, the image of Rhett’s face haunted her, the way he’d looked at her, like she was the only one in the world. Like he wanted to trust her with the weight he carried.
Y/N’s hands shook on the wheel. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to ease that burden. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
So she drove on, the space between them widening, both of them carrying the same cross in silence, pretending it wasn’t breaking them apart.
Y/N had promised herself she wouldn’t cry again. She’d spent the whole drive home from town swallowing her tears, forcing them down like stones. But by the time she reached her front porch, she was already unraveling. The house felt wrong when she stepped inside. Too quiet, too heavy, as though the walls themselves knew what she carried. She dropped the groceries on the counter and leaned against it, her arms trembling under the weight of everything unsaid.
She told herself she’d keep it all inside. That was safer. For her, for Rhett, for Perry. If she never spoke it, it could never hurt them. She’d done it all her life, hadn’t she? Keeping secrets, burying truths under layers of silence. This would be no different.
And yet… The image of Rhett’s face wouldn’t leave her. The way he’d looked at her outside the store: worried, hurting, wanting to reach for her. It pressed against her chest until it was hard to breathe.
So when the knock came at her door later that afternoon, sharp and insistent, she knew before she opened it who it would be.
Rhett stood there, hat in hand, shoulders tense, his eyes burning with something between anger and desperation.
"Y/N," he said, voice low, ragged. "We need to talk."
Her stomach twisted. She should’ve sent him away, kept her silence. But instead she stepped back, wordless, letting him in.
He paced the living room, hat twisting in his hands, while she stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself. The air between them was taut, ready to snap.
"You’re not okay," Rhett said finally. His voice wasn’t accusing, but it wasn’t gentle either. "I saw it today. Somethin’s wrong, and you’re tryin’ to keep me out of it."
Y/N’s throat tightened. She shook her head, tried to muster a lie, but it caught on her tongue. Her eyes burned. And before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out.
"I know," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "Rhett… I know what happened. With Trevor and Perry."
The world went silent. Rhett froze, his chest rising and falling like he’d been struck. Slowly, he turned toward her, face pale. "What’d you just say?"
Tears spilled over before she could hold them back.
"I saw it," she confessed, words breaking loose like floodwaters. "I saw Perry. I saw… everything."
Rhett stared at her, stunned, color draining from his face. His lips parted, but no words came. His whole body looked like it was carved from stone, except for his eyes: wild, panicked, searching.
"How?" he rasped finally. "How the hell could you…?"
Y/N sank onto the couch, covering her face with her hands. "You don’t want to know."
Rhett stood frozen for another moment, then dragged a hand over his face, swearing under his breath. And then he remembered. His mind flashed back to childhood, to whispers on the playground, to the cruel way kids teased Y/N. Eating dirt, seeing things. He’d never wanted to believe it, never wanted to ask her if it was true. But now, looking at her crumpled form, it clicked together in a way that made his skin crawl.
"Fuckin' Christ," he muttered. "It’s true, ain’t it? That-"
Y/N lifted her head, eyes red and shining. She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Rhett dropped into the armchair opposite her, elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair.
"Christ, Y/N…" He shook his head, like he could rattle the thought loose. "I don’t even know what to say."
"You don’t have to say anything," she said quickly, desperation in her tone. She leaned forward, clutching her hands together. "Just... Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask me to explain. Just leave it where it is."
But Rhett’s eyes narrowed, suspicion cutting through the shock.
"You said you saw it. Which means… You had to..." His voice dropped. "Someone made you or you...?"
Y/N’s chest tightened. She looked away, but Rhett was already piecing it together. His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking.
"It was Tillerson, wasn’t it? He came back after I left."
Her nod was subtle. That was all the confirmation he needed.
"Goddammit!" Rhett surged to his feet, pacing hard across the room. "I knew somethin’ was wrong! I felt it in my gut and I still walked away like a damn fool."
He slammed a fist against the wall, the sound making her jump. Y/N rushed to her feet, grabbing his arm before he could storm for the door.
"He touched you? He hurt you?"
"No-no, not like that. He just-" Her voice broke, the memory of his hand forcing dirt into her mouth making her gag. "He made me. He had the dirt. He shoved it down my throat. I didn’t have a choice."
Rhett turned, fury blazing in his eyes. "Son of a bitch."
Y/N shook her head quickly.
"Rhett, stop. Listen to me. I didn’t tell him anything. You hear me? I pretended it didn’t work. I told him it was all just a stupid rumor, that he was crazy for even thinkin’ it. He doesn’t know."
Rhett’s chest heaved, but he froze under her grip. His gaze searched hers, desperate. "You sure?"
"I swear." Her voice trembled. "I’d never give you away. Or Perry."
For a long moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then Rhett sagged, the fight draining from his shoulders. He pressed a hand to his face, dragging it down slowly.
"Christ almighty, Y/N. What kind of mess are we in?"
They sat together, words spilling out in halting pieces. Y/N told him everything. Luke at her door, the threats, the way he brought up her mother. The way he forced her to eat the dirt. The vision. All of it. She cried as she spoke, but her voice never wavered from the truth.
Rhett listened, silent at first, his hands knotted tight in his lap. When she finished, he let out a long, ragged breath.
"I should’ve stayed," he said hoarsely. "Should’ve never left you alone last night."
"It’s not your fault," she whispered. "You couldn’t have known."
"I did know," he said bitterly. "I felt it. Somethin’ in me knew. But I let my pride keep me from turnin’ back. And because of that, Tillerson came into your house and…"
"Rhett. I’m okay." Y/N reached for his hand, tentative, her fingers curling around his.
"You ain’t okay, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here tellin’ me a man forced dirt down your throat to drag visions out of you. That ain’t okay." He broke off, shaking his head and then looked at her, eyes dark and stormy. "I’ll never forgive myself for that."
Her grip tightened. "I’m okay because I didn’t give him what he wanted. I kept you safe. That’s what matters."
The words hung between them, fragile and heavy all at once. Rhett squeezed her hand back, thumb brushing over her knuckles, rough and gentle at the same time.
"You shouldn’t have to carry this alone."
Y/N swallowed hard, tears welling again. "Neither should you."
For the first time, their eyes met without walls, without defenses. Both of them raw, broken open by the weight of what they carried. And in that moment, the silence between them wasn’t distance. It was a fragile kind of closeness, the kind that came from knowing the worst of each other and staying anyway.
Rhett leaned closer. Hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure he had the right, even after all the nights tangled in the sheets. This was different. Y/N didn’t pull away. Their foreheads brushed, breath mingling, and then their lips met. Slow, soft, trembling with all the things they couldn’t say out loud. It wasn’t passion, not yet. It was a promise. A way to show how much they loved each other, even without being able to put it into words.
The kiss deepened only slightly, just enough to seal what words couldn’t. His hand came to rest at her jaw, hers pressed around his neck, both of them steadying each other. When they finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, there was no need for explanation.
They were on the same page, even in the chaos, even with shadows all around them.
Hi! I saw your requests were open and was reading through the the rules and wanted to ask, would you feel comfortable writing a pregnant fem!reader or a fem!reader giving birth? It doesn’t have to be graphic or anything, honestly it could be a time skip. I just had a request for Ben Mears with a wife who’s pregnant/gives birth during the events of the movie and I just wanted to see if that’s something you would write for. It’s totally fine if not, I completely understand. Thanks! 😄
Darkness fades at dawn
Summary: Request above.
Warnings: Fem!Reader. Use of Y/N. Curse words. Childbirth descriptions. Vampires and the usual Salem's Lot stuff.
Word count: 1.8k
Authors note: Request made! I hope you like it a lot!! Now, maybe I mixed things up a little, I had to watch the movie again -only saw it when it came out- and to be honest I didn't pay much attention either, but I think that all in all it fulfills its purpose.
General masterlist Requests
The car made a soft hum on the road, shuddering in its protests as Ben shifted it into third. The sun slanted across the windshield, blinding him until he flipped the visor down. Y/N shifted in the passenger seat, brushing her hair away from her flushed face.
"You’re making the baby seasick," she said with a small smile, though her tone carried the sharp edge of her seriousness. She rested her hand against her belly as if shielding their unborn baby from the car’s temper.
Ben grinned. "Hasn’t even seen the sea yet."
"Doesn’t need to. Not if has you for a father and this heap for a car."
It groaned again, and Y/N chuckled, though it dissolved into a wince as she adjusted her seatbelt. She was seven months along, almost eight. An elegant, glowing presence with her hair pulled into a messy knot and a strange mix of calm and fire in her eyes.
She had been skeptical of Salem’s Lot when he first proposed it. "You want to take your heavily pregnant wife to a town in the middle of nowhere because you once saw a creepy house there?" she had asked. "Ben, you know how that sounds, don’t you?"
But she had relented. Stubbornness wasn’t the same as cruelty. She had believed in him, and more than that, she knew the haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of the Marsten House. She wanted to be there, to see him face it, to make sure he didn’t drown in it alone.
Ben had always believed he understood the essence of fear. He’d carried it with him from the moment he’d first laid eyes on the Marsten House as a child—looming, brooding, casting shadows far longer than its timbers. But this time, when he returned to Salem’s Lot, he got something more important than the fear inside him, he got her.
Now, as the town’s spire came into view like a small dot miles away, she let out a slow breath.
"So this is it," she whispered. "Your little haunted town."
Ben glanced at her. He didn't say anything for a few seconds until he sighed at the sight of the cracked and faded "Welcome to Jerusalem’s Lot" sign.
"Yeah. Haunted’s a good word for it."
She squeezed his hand, her eyes warm even in the dusky twilight. "Lucky I'm with you."
The words stayed with him, though he said nothing.
Because while Ben had come to Salem’s Lot to exorcise ghosts, to write away the lingering trauma of the Marsten House, Y/N had come carrying the promise of their future.
They found a boarding house that would take them both despite Y/N's condition —because apparently no one wanted the problems that a pregnant woman could cause—. The landlady sniffed about the inconvenience of children but was mollified by Y/N’s warmth and the promise of timely rent.
The room was small but clean, with lace curtains that fluttered when the wind pushed through the cracked frame. Y/N unpacked her notebooks, smoothing her hand over the worn leather covers. Ben caught her eyes softening as she placed them on the small table beside his typewriter.
"Poetry meets horror," she teased, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "What a household our little one will be born into."
Ben kissed her temple. "She’ll be alright."
Y/N raised a brow. "She?"
"Yeah. I mean, there's like a 50% chance it's a girl, so I'm not that wrong, am I?" he said, shrugging to downplay it.
She tried to joke but couldn’t fight the tenderness in his words. Instead, she reached for his hand, pressing it against her stomach. The baby kicked in response.
"See?" Y/N's said softly. "She agrees."
The days passed quietly at first. Ben doted on Y/N endlessly, insisting she stay off her feet. He set up his typewriter in their rented room, trying to find the rhythm of his novel, but his eyes kept drifting to Y/N as she sketched nursery plans in her journal. They spoke of colors —soft yellows and creams mostly— and names, though they never settled on one.
At night, however, Ben dreamed of the house on the hill. Of windows like black eyes. Of laughter that wasn’t laughter.
Y/N soothed him when he woke in a sweat. She traced circles on his back until his breathing steadied.
"You’re safe," she whispered. "We’re safe."
But as the days grew shorter, the town seemed to shrink under some unseen weight. People whispered about missing pets. About strange noises at night. The shadows stretched longer than they should.
And Ben began to wonder if bringing his wife here had been a terrible mistake.
He didn’t tell her when he first visited the Marsten House. She had been napping, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. He told himself he’d just drive by, just look.
Now he sat with the car window down, eyes fixed on the looming structure. There was an undeniable wrongness to it, as if the very wood had been steeped in despair. His feet lightly patted the floor of the car rhythmically. He’d watched the warped front doors, feeling the air grow colder, heavier. It was exactly as he remembered it. Rotting, silent, yet alive with something foul.
When he came back down the hill, he found Y/N waiting on the porch of the boarding house, her face pale.
"You went up there," she said softly. He tried to protest, but she shook her head."Don’t argue. Pregnant or not, I don't like you brooding on some hilltop by yourself."
Ben finally looked at her. "It hasn’t changed."
"But you do. That house doesn’t own you." Her words settled over him like a shield. "Ben, I... I feel it too, okay? Every time I look up at that hill, I feel something staring back."
He wrapped his arms around her, though his heart hammered with guilt. But he couldn't leave, not yet.
A couple of days later, the town began to unravel.
First it was the missing Glick boy. Then Danny, feverish and pale, drifting toward something unspeakable. The whispers of a strange new man in town, Straker, and his mysterious interest in having the Marsten House. The sense that something strange and dangerous had slipped into Salem’s Lot and was making itself at home.
The town had its gossip about what was happening, and Y/N soon noticed something that unsettled her more than the Marsten House. People seemed… Weary. Not just in the way small towns were, but hollow-eyed, subdued. And though she tried to act strong, she kept a baptized rosary under her pillow, a relic of her childhood faith she had once left behind, but she carried it with her because it was a gift from her mother.
Y/N grew restless as the days passed. The baby kicked more often, as though unsettled by the change in the air. She told Ben she felt watched, even during the day.
"It’s like the whole town’s holding its breath," she murmured once, staring out the window. "Just waiting for something."
That night, scratching sounds came at the window of their room.
Ben leapt from bed, heart hammering. He saw nothing but darkness beyond the glass. Still, he locked the window tight, asking Y/N to stay in bed.
"Don’t look," he whispered.
But she already had. And she swore she saw two glowing eyes in the dark.
Then the most important and hard moment of their lives happened.
It was late, with the wind tearing through the trees, when Y/N’s water broke. She gasped, clutching her belly, her face pale.
"Ben," she whispered, "it’s time."
Panic surged through him. The town was unraveling, neighbors vanishing, whole streets swallowed by silence. Yet here was his wife, bent with pain, bringing their child into the world. Y/N’s cries broke it, sharp and determined, as Ben panicked and scrambled to fetch help, to call Dr. Cody. But the baby wasn’t waiting for anyone.
So Ben prepared himself, fumbling through instructions he’d once read but never thought he’d need.
Hours blurred in that cramped boarding room, Y/N gave birth. Her face shone with sweat, stubborn jaw set, knuckles white around Ben’s hand. And then, at last, the small, fierce cry of their daughter filled the room, filling it with the sound of new life: a wailing, red-faced infant, lungs strong against the encroaching silence of the town.
It was a girl.
Ben held her, his throat tight, before placing her against Y/N’s chest. She kissed the child’s damp hair, whispering promises only mothers can make.
"She born into this darkness. That means she’ll shine all the brighter. She’s our light," Y/N said, voice breaking. "Our little Aurora."
"Aurora," Ben whispered hoarsely, caressing the tiny, fragile thing. He looked at Y/N, exhausted but smiling through her tears. "She’s perfect."
For a brief moment, the room was full of light.
But Salem’s Lot never stopped.
The very night their daughter was born, the scratching returned at the window—louder this time. Ben barred it shut, clutching the infant close while Y/N tried to rest. He felt the darkness pressing in, hungry.
He could not let the evil of that town have them.
The strangeness grew thicker in Salem’s Lot. People grew sick, pale, withdrawn. Neighbors vanished. And though Aurora filled their days with fragile joy, Y/N could not ignore the dread that lurked at the edges.
One evening, while rocking Aurora to sleep, she looked at Ben. "There’s something feeding here. Something unnatural. I can feel it in my bones."
Ben met her gaze.
"Vampires," he said at last, the word tasting ridiculous, even as the truth of it sank between them.
Y/N’s arms tightened around Aurora. "God, if you had told me that a couple of days ago I would have laughed in your face, but... I'm so scared for her."
The days that followed were war.
Ben fought with cross and stake, with fire and fury. The protectiveness that only a husband would have for his wife and that a father would have for his daughter. Y/N, weak from birth, stayed hidden with Aurora, singing softly to drown out the sounds of scratching at the walls, the whispers in the night. But her eyes never lost their fire, and when Ben felt weak, she was his anchor.
"Come back to us," she whispered everytime. "Come back to me."
And he did.
When the Marsten House fell to fire. They could breathe a sigh of relief for once.
But the evil in Salem’s Lot could not be fully destroyed.
They left Salem’s Lot under a blood-red dawn. Y/N cradled Aurora as Ben drove, Mark asleep in the back seat, either of them looking back at the smoking ruins. The town would never truly die, Ben knew that. Darkness had roots too deep. But they survived. And they have Aurora with them.
"Where will we go?" Y/N asked softly, rocking the little baby.
Ben took her hand, his eyes fixed on the long stretch of road ahead. "Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as it’s away from here."
And with that, they drove into the rising sun. Haunted still, but together. Alive.
