DESCRIPTION: Bob keeps your relationship private, but he doesn't try to hide the dozens of Polaroids of you all over his locker and truck. He has a daily routine of taping his favorite Polaroid of you to his jet's console, but when it goes missing, things get chaotic. Luckily, you're there to make everything better.
WORD COUNT: 2.3k
WARNINGS: Bob gets angry in this one, folks. Cussing. Fighting. Hangman's an asshole- sorry.
MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3
Bob didn’t like talking about his relationship. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of her, or that he felt ashamed. But in fact, the opposite. He’d seen these animals, he’d call co-workers, and how they’d treat girls. Granted, the squadron he was with now wasn’t so bad. Rooster, Hangman, and Fanboy were hard flirts, but they had basic decency. He never felt embarrassed by their behavior when they went out to the bars, and they’d try and pick up a girl. If they were successful, they celebrated. If they weren’t, they’d walk away and move on.
But it was his past experiences with other pilots. Locker room talk always rubbed him the wrong way. He did his best not to judge these guys. He had those thoughts, too, but he had heard too many dehumanizing things said about women he knew and didn’t. So he preferred to keep his gorgeous girlfriend, Y/n, under wraps, even if he did trust his current friends.
They preferred to keep their lives separate anyway. With Bob having his work and friend group, and Y/n having hers. It kept their conversations interesting, as they had their own lives to discuss, not just their shared one.
The Dagger Squad, of course, would try and pry any information out of him. All they knew was that he had a girlfriend. Half the time, they’d forget what her name was because they had never met her, and Bob preferred not to talk about her, for fear they’d ask to see her.
He was surprised they didn’t notice the Polaroids. Taking pictures of his girl was his favorite thing to do besides flying. He wasn’t exactly a photographer. But he made good use out of the instant Polaroid camera she got him for Christmas. It was so much better than taking pictures on his phone because he could hold the memory in his hand. The light and the moment were captured and printed instantly just for him.
They were stuck everywhere. Photos over the years were plastered all over the inside of his locker. In his phone case was a picture of her wearing his glasses. And in the fold-out mirror of his truck was a photo of her taken off guard in the kitchen that she hated, but he loved. The one of her kissing his cheek was usually tucked in the front pocket of his flight suit. They all served as reminders of what he had waiting for him once his shift was over. His best friend and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life.
His favorite was the photo he taped to his control panel every day. It was a little beat up, naturally, but he made sure to keep that one in the best condition it could be. It was his good luck charm- the first Polaroid he had ever taken of her. It was Christmas morning, and she sat next to the lit tree, in his old Lemoore High School shirt that she had stolen for herself. She hugged the frankly huge teddy bear that he had gotten her. While the lights on the tree sparkled in the photo and cast a golden glow on her smiling face. For some reason, when he had it, the missions went better. The days went by more easily when he got to see his girl’s face after a stressful hiccup in flight.
It had been a long and grueling day flying under the sweltering sun. They had been training for a strike mission, and the dogfighting exercises had left him drenched in sweat, and owing Maverick 200 push-ups. Thanks, Payback, for the BRILLIANT idea. And thanks, Hangman, for doing what he did best- leaving him in the dust and pushing his buttons.
After an almost embarrassing amount of time, he walked back to the locker room with biceps so sore they screamed. He unzipped his flight suit and took his glasses off, using the white shirt underneath to clean the fog and sweat off them. He couldn’t wait to go home and find his girlfriend in her study, working. And he especially couldn’t wait to bug and distract her from all of it.
That’s when the sense of dread hit him, and he realized. He quickly checked all his pockets. Yes, the one of her kissing his cheek was there. But his lucky charm wasn’t in any of the other pockets. He rushed to climb out of his flight suit and scrambled to throw on a random shirt and shorts from his duffel. He couldn’t leave it in the jet. Who knew what maintenance would do if they found it? They’d probably just throw it away.
Throwing on his backpack, he sprinted back down to the hangar. He didn’t even notice the whole squadron standing around talking. He didn’t care. All he wanted was his favorite picture and for this horrible day to be over with.
The sunset shone on his forehead, exacerbating the glistening stress sweat. He quickly climbed the ladder onto the Super Hornet and looked inside the backseat interior. The only place it could be. And when he looked at the spot between the radar and the comms control, he put his face in his hands. It wasn’t there. The memory of the Christmas lights and the bear was missing.
“Fuck.” He said to himself. It was hard to get Bob to curse, but this felt like an appropriate occasion.
Then Hangman’s voice rang out behind him.
“Hey Baby on Board! You sure this isn’t a picture you found on Google?”
Bob’s head whipped back to find Jake Seresin holding the photo. On one hand, he was just grateful that someone had found it. On the other hand, out of all the pilots, he wished so deeply that it wasn’t Hangman.
He quickly climbed down the ladder. “Give me it back, please.” He said exasperated, and walked towards him.
Jake held the photo up so that Bob couldn’t get it. Neither of them was short, but Hangman was just slightly taller.
“I’m not kidding.” He said, trying his best to keep his cool. It took a lot to make Bob angry. He was typically level-headed and able to logically think things through. That’s why he was a WSO Top Gun Graduate, and not necessarily a pilot. But right then, his whole day had been building up inside him, and this was the one thing he didn’t mess around with.
“I just can’t believe that a babe like this is with a guy like you. Really, you should let me call her up.” He said teasingly with a smile. After leaving Bob and Phoenix stranded, AND doing this, Bob was at the end of his rope.
“Hangman, just give him back the photo,” Phoenix voiced with her arms crossed. She and Rooster watched the whole interaction, which just made him feel worse. This was humiliating. It was like they were boys in a school yard- which Bob would say was an apt description of most of the people he had worked with in the past.
He reached up for the photo and finally got a grip on it, but Hangman didn’t let go.
“I just think it’s funny! I wanna look at it. I think there’s more in his locker, too.”
“Just let go, Hangman.” His voice was less whiny and more serious now.
“No!” He grinned.
The two tussled and grabbed at the photo. It felt like a moment that was way too long. Until eventually they each pulled in a different direction, twisting it. It completely bent. Thankfully, it couldn’t rip because of the type of film, but the photo itself was fairly distorted. Bob’s heart beat out of his chest, and it was like his stomach twisted the same way the photo did.
He suddenly let go of the photo and pushed Hangman so hard he stumbled back, surprised. The photo slapped onto the pavement.
“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” Bob said, following after him, ready to beat the shit out of him. Even though at first glance, most people would believe that Hangman would win in a fight between the two. It didn’t quite look it at the moment with the anger in Bob’s eyes and his arms pumped from the earlier push-ups.
Rooster quickly ran over and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back. “HEY HEY HEY!”
Phoenix ran over and did the opposite, pushing her hand against Hangman’s chest, though he didn’t try to move forward. He knew he was in the wrong here, and it was clear by his guilty expression.
“Bob, man, calm down,” Rooster said. They all looked at him, surprised. Timid, awkward Bob was… kinda scary when he was pissed off. His glasses slightly crooked and red in the face. Maybe it was just strange to see him so out of control.
He slowly pushed Rooster off of him and walked over, grabbing the crumpled photo on the ground. After a failed attempt at straightening it out, he put it in his pocket and walked off, steaming.
That night, when he got home, he slammed the door. He was never the type to do that, but he felt so defeated. His duffel bag dropped to the floor uncaringly.
“Bob? Is that you?” Y/n called out from the study.
He sighed, a little relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” He said, his voice almost completely flat. That wasn’t normal. He’d usually meet her in the study, but at the sounds of distress, she quickly came out.
She walked out to find him hanging up his sweatshirt with a depressed look on his face. His usual smile was replaced by a small, tense frown, and his shoulders were high and stiff. Something was very wrong.
“Oh, baby.” She said, walking over, “What’s wrong?” Her voice was so gentle.
He sighed and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I need to shower,” He said, not having gotten the chance to on base. But he still squeezed her, needing the support dearly.
She shook her head against his chest. “What happened?” She knew he was trying to avoid it.
He stepped back and pulled the bent photo out of his pocket. “Hangman happened.”
She gasped at the sight of it in his hand. “Oh no… Is this a man or a dog we’re talking about here?” She asked confused, and that made him laugh a little. He was already so grateful to be home.
“Man. Though he definitely acts like a dog.” He groaned.
She gently took the photo from his hands. “I can try and fix it. Straighten it out. There might be a crease still in it, though.” She tried her best to flatten it out like he did, but to no avail.
He shook his head. “You can try, but I doubt it’ll be okay.”
That answer was so depressing, she looked up and tilted her head. “Hey, we’ll get it back to normal. I’ll look it up. How about you go shower and eat? I made pasta cause I was too lazy to be a real chef tonight.” She tried to lighten the air. “Then you can tell me all about your day.”
He sighed in relief. “You’re too good to me.” He said softly, pulling her in for a much-needed kiss.
And that’s exactly how they ended up sprawled on the couch, each with bowls of penne and vodka sauce. On the coffee table, the photo lay on a piece of wax paper and was buried under some thick fighter jet manuals Bob had.
“It was just like the whole day had been building up in me. Payback’s bet. Hangman leaving me and Phoenix dead in the water. The two hundred push-ups. And the photo going missing in the first place drove me crazy. So when he bent it, I just… exploded a little.” He admitted, almost ashamed to have lost control.
She sighed. “That’s okay. It was natural after all of that.” She reassured gently, reaching for his calf and squeezing it. “This Hangman guy sounds like a real douche.”
“Understatement.” He said, but he was feeling better talking through it all with her. “I just hope that the photo is okay. You know it’s my good luck charm, and if it’s not flat, it won’t stick to my console very well.”
A small smile appeared on her face. “It’s under some of the thickest books I’ve ever seen. If it’s not flattened, then that’s just defying gravity.” She said.
He exhaled again, relaxing, and it was like the tension in him completely dissipated. “You’re right.” He said gently.
“Hey, maybe after today he’ll leave you alone.” She suggested.
He scoffed, “Hangman? I give him less than a week before he starts using you against me.”
She chuckled and set her bowl down so she could lie down against him. “Hmmmm, gotta get you enrolled in anger management classes then.” She teased.
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re funny.” He said sarcastically.
The next morning, he woke up at the crack of dawn per usual. He slowly slipped out of his girlfriend’s grasp, and she whined, half asleep. Their typical routine. He gently leaned down, ran his hand over her hair, and kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep.” He whispered, and she subconsciously did so.
He got ready in his khaki uniform and walked out to the living room. On the table were the stacks of manuals. He very carefully took them off one by one and set them on the couch to soften the noise. Checking on the Polaroid, he sighed in relief as it was flat again. A small crease was across the middle, but at the very least, it was flat. He turned it around and saw something new. On the plain white back of the photo was a lipstick kiss mark over the folded line. In the tiniest pen was ‘A kiss to make it better’.
And the biggest smile grew on his face. This was better than he could’ve asked for.
Now he didn’t just have a good luck charm, but also a kiss to remember her by.
Summary: Childhood friends reunite after fifteen years when you return to Wabang as a vet. Rhett is stunned by your transformation, and old crushes ignite into a slow-burning, irresistible passion that finally erupts in the barn.
Warnings: childhood friends but reader moved away, romantic longing, they are in LOVE, oh mannnn, SMUT (extended warnings under the cut)
Author’s note: this story is inspired by i saw this edit on tiktok of Lewis and in combination with this song, it was chef's kiss. Rhett is the king of YEARNING in this <3 hope you enjoy and if you have any requests, lmk. divider by: @chrisssiren and @cafekitsune
Extended warnings: no foreplay, kinda!public sex, unprotected piv (stay safe), creampie, no aftercare—Rhett is very sweet to reader though
The dust hadn’t even settled in the arena when the crowd erupted. The clang of the gate still rang in the air, and Rhett Abbott tugged off his gloves, chest rising hard with the aftermath of the ride. He tipped his hat to the stands, that easy half-smile of his, sweat and grit catching the light, muscles flexing as he shook out his arms. Another ride, another win, another reminder that he still had the fire.
But then he saw you.
At first, he thought he was imagining it—like the heat or the roar of the crowd had tricked his eyes. You were leaning casually against the fence, arms folded just so, the faintest smirk tugging at your lips. Your hair caught the late-afternoon sun, glinting gold, and your eyes sparkled with that same mischievous glint he remembered from his childhood.
Fifteen years. Fifteen long, slow years since you’d left Wabang, your family moving away just before you both hit that awkward stretch of adolescence. He’d thought he’d gotten over it—or at least tucked it away—but seeing you now, fifteen years older, impossibly radiant… it felt like someone had yanked a thread he hadn’t realized was still hanging loose.
He blinked, nearly did a double take. Fifteen years since you’d left Wabang. Fifteen years since the two of you had been kids chasing each other barefoot through the fields, dust kicking up behind you as you raced toward the creek, both swearing you’d touched the fence post first. Afternoons had been measured in grass-stained jeans, dares to climb higher into the cottonwood tree, scraped knees and shouted laughter echoing over the wide Wyoming land.
He could still see you perched on the wooden fence with a Popsicle melting down your wrist, daring him to catch a frog with his bare hands, both of you shrieking when it jumped higher than expected. Summer nights had ended with fireflies in mason jars and whispered promises under the stars—childish, unsteady vows that you’d never let life pull you apart.
And then came the day you moved away. You were only ten, him barely eleven, but he remembered it with a clarity that still ached. The packed boxes in the back of your dad’s truck. The way your mom’s smile trembled as she waved goodbye. You’d stood there, chin wobbling but determined, promising to write letters, to keep calling, to never forget.
He hadn’t said much—words never came easy to him, even then—but the moment the truck pulled away, he’d felt it. Like something had been carved out of his chest and carried off down the road with you. That dull ache had followed him for weeks, months, until time smoothed it into a quieter kind of missing. And yet, standing here now, staring at you after all these years, it came rushing back, sharp and alive as if no time had passed at all.
Here you were. Not a memory. Not a screen pixel. Real. Right in front of him.
And God help him—you were stunning.
The kind of stunning that made his mouth go dry, his pulse spike, and his carefully guarded composure teeter on the edge. You’d grown up in ways he hadn’t imagined, yet there was that spark of the kid he’d known, flashing in the curve of your smile, the tilt of your head, the subtle laugh that hit him straight in the chest.
“When did you get hot?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if that alone could make the sight disappear.
By the time he’d hopped the fence and walked toward you, you were laughing—bright, warm, the same sound that used to undo him back when you were kids.
“Nice ride,” you teased, tilting your head at him, that hint of mockery making his chest tighten. “Didn’t get thrown once.”
“Guess I had to impress the hometown vet,” he shot back, the words slipping out quicker than he meant them to. His tone was teasing, sure, but his eyes gave him away—lingering just a little too long, running over you like he was trying to match the memory of the kid he’d known with the woman standing in front of him now.
As soon as it left his mouth, he tugged at the brim of his hat, half-hiding the grin that threatened to give him up entirely. He hadn’t planned on saying it, hadn’t planned on letting you see even a flicker of the pull you had on him already. But the truth was, you’d knocked the wind right out of him just by being here, and for the first time in years, the rodeo wasn’t what had his pulse racing.
Your brows lifted, amused, and your eyes danced with that old teasing light. “So you heard.”
“Small town,” he muttered, tugging at the brim of his hat, suddenly restless. “Word gets around fast.”
And his eyes couldn’t stop tracing you—like he was trying to memorize you all over again, only this time with no kid’s naivety to soften the edges. The sunlight kissed your skin in a way that made you glow, a warm gold that clung to your shoulders and neck, catching in your hair like fire. There was a rhythm to the way you moved now, an effortless sway, every step measured and sure, nothing like the gangly kid he used to chase through fields. You carried yourself with the kind of confidence that only came from years of living, of becoming, and it tugged at something deep in him.
Then there was your mouth—God help him, your mouth. He remembered it laughing wide at some dumb joke he’d told when you were ten, grinning around a Popsicle stick, muttering secrets that weren’t supposed to matter but somehow did. Now, though? That same curve was sharper, fuller, shaped by time in ways that made his chest go tight. Every thought he’d been suppressing since you left, every pang of what-if and maybe-someday, rose to the surface with a heat that made his pulse stumble.
He’d had a crush on you back then—sweet, harmless, the kind of affection that belonged to childhood. But this? This was nothing like that. This was deeper, sharper, hotter, threaded with an ache that felt like hunger. You weren’t just the memory of scraped knees and fireflies anymore. You were standing in front of him, grown, breathtaking, and more than he’d ever let himself imagine. And it hit him all at once: he’d never really stopped wanting you. He’d just been waiting without realizing it.
“I figured I’d surprise you,” you said softly, a little shy now, the easy confidence of the vet he’d heard about mingling with something vulnerable in your voice. Your voice had changed, the faint lilt of your old Southern drawl has significantly softened over the years, yet he could still hear it threading through your words in the most captivating way.
“You sure as hell did,” he said, voice low, his gaze dropping just briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes.
The words weren’t about the rodeo. They weren’t about the win. They were about right now. About the electricity crackling in the air between you, the tension that had been simmering for years, the unspoken pull that made his heart hammer in ways that had nothing to do with riding bulls.
You stepped closer, and Rhett’s breath hitched—just slightly, just enough. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the magnetic draw that had been building silently through your texts and online chats, through old memories he’d tried not to dwell on. He remembered every detail of you—your laugh, your stubborn streak, the way your hair would fall into your eyes when you were concentrating—and now, standing here, fifteen years older, impossibly beautiful, the old crush had ignited into a wildfire.
“I… wow,” he finally said, voice rough, catching on the weight of the moment. “You look… you’ve always been… damn.”
You laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, that self-conscious little gesture that had never changed. “Still stuttering, Abbott?”
He smirked, though it faltered as he tried to focus. “Guess some things never change,” he murmured, stepping just a fraction closer. The smell of sweat, and leather clung to him, making the tension between you all the more palpable.
“I’ve… I’ve been meaning to come to a game,” you admitted, voice softer now, vulnerable in a way that sent a jolt straight to his chest. “Wanted to see you ride. And… maybe see you.”
“See me?” His chest rose a little faster. “You’ve been seein’ me plenty online.”
“Not like this,” you said, eyes locking on his. “Not in person.”
The old childhood familiarity, the comfort, the teasing—it all tangled with this new current, the yearning, the fire. Rhett felt it deep in his chest, a pull he couldn’t resist. His hands flexed at his sides, wanting to reach for you, to hold you, to bridge the fifteen-year gap in one impulsive motion.
He wasn’t letting you slip away again. Not now. Not ever.
“You’ve… you’ve changed,” he murmured, voice low, filled with something raw, something he hadn’t meant to let surface. “But… in all the right ways.”
You stepped closer, and the space between you shrank until the world narrowed to the two of you, the dusty arena, and the sound of your hearts pounding in sync. That smirk, that mischievous glint in your eye, made him inhale sharply. “I could say the same about you,” you teased, though your pulse betrayed you, quick and wild.
The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long across the arena, but neither of you noticed. Years of waiting, of memories, of half-formed crushes and missed opportunities, condensed into this one electrifying moment. Rhett’s hand twitched, yearning to brush your cheek, to take your hand, to pull you close.
“You know,” he finally said, voice low and rough, “I never forgot you.”
“I didn’t either,” you admitted, a whisper, and the heat in your chest flared, unstoppable.
And in that dusty arena, with the crowd dispersing and the roar of the rodeo fading into the evening air, Rhett realized—this wasn’t just a reunion. This was the start of something impossible to ignore, a pull fifteen years in the making.
And it set his intention in stone, he wasn’t letting you slip away again.
The thought stayed with him long after the rodeo dust settled—after he brought you home. He brought it to his own home, to the shower, where the sting of hot water did nothing to quiet the memory of your smile, the way your eyes had lingered on him. Fifteen years of distance couldn’t undo what had been there, not for him. Seeing you again only set it all ablaze.
He found excuses to stop by the vet clinic. Pretended his mare needed a checkup more often than she did, or that one of the cattle had a limp. You didn’t call him out on it—not directly—but he caught the amused little glances you tossed his way. And every time your hands brushed his, every time you leaned close to check a bandage or hand him paperwork, Rhett felt his resolve slip a little further.
He didn’t need an excuse to linger nearby, but somehow he always found himself there. You were rearranging the books in the veterinarian section in Wabang’s little library, fingers brushing over spines, hair falling into your eyes as you leaned forward.
You, absorbed in the quiet task, unaware of him tracing every line of your profile.
You, laughing softly at a silly passage you’d read aloud, cheeks flushed.
You, tilting your head as sunlight spilled across your face, that spark he remembered from childhood now blazing in a whole new, devastating way.
He stayed back, pretending to browse the shelves, but every so often his gaze drifted to you, heart thudding, pulse rising. Every subtle movement of yours—the way you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the curve of your smile—made him ache in ways he couldn’t ignore. Fifteen years of waiting, fifteen years of distance, and it all came rushing back, hotter than ever.
He never spoke, not yet. Watching you like this, feeling the pull between you, was torture—and bliss.
Every damn thing about you made his chest ache. Made his body burn.
At night, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way your hand had felt when you shook his—warm, steady, lingering just long enough to make him feel it in his chest. The way you’d tilted your head when you teased him, that soft curve of your smile that had never really left his memory.
He’d lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, your laugh echoing in his head until his body ached with it. He’d picture you close—your breath against his cheek, your lips parting as he kissed you slow, deep, the kind of kiss that unraveled him. His sheets tangled around his legs as he shifted restlessly, every nerve alive with wanting.
Most nights, he’d give in, closing his eyes, letting his hand move as he imagined the weight of you straddling him, your body pressed flush to his. He’d picture the way you’d sound whispering his name, breathless and broken against his ear, and it made his chest tighten, his heart race. His release always came hard, leaving him trembling, but even then it never felt like enough.
Because it wasn’t just your body he wanted. It was you. Your laugh against his skin, your hands tangled in his hair, your eyes meeting his in that unguarded way that had always undone him. No matter how many nights he reached for you in the dark, it only ever left him more certain—he needed the real thing. He needed you.
But Rhett wasn’t reckless with you. Not this time.
He wanted more than just a quick fling. He wanted years—hell, forever. Which meant he waited. Smoldered. Yearned in silence, letting his touches stay fleeting, his looks go unanswered. Letting the tension coil tighter and tighter, until one day, it would have to snap.
And you felt it too. You couldn’t deny it—not when the air around him seemed to hum, pulling you closer without effort. Your laugh softened whenever he was near, warmer, quieter, like it was meant only for him. Your hand would linger on his arm when you passed by, fingertips brushing against muscle in a way that lasted a second too long, just enough for the contact to leave an echo.
And sometimes, when you thought he wasn’t looking, your eyes would drift. To the line of his jaw, the curve of his throat, and, more often than not, to his mouth. You’d catch yourself staring, heartbeat tripping, and quickly glance away as though the heat of the thought hadn’t already given you away.
It was subtle, unspoken, but it lived in every glance, every brush of skin, every second that stretched too long. A slow, smoldering pull you couldn’t resist—didn’t even want to.
You knew. And he knew you knew.
And still—he waited.
Because when he finally let himself have you, when he finally let all that pent-up hunger loose—he wanted it to be all-consuming. He wanted it to be something you’d never forget.
It happened on a night that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. You’d come by the ranch after a long day, saying you had paperwork for him about one of the horses. He’d invited you to stay for dinner—casual, nothing more—and you had.
But casual didn’t explain the way he couldn’t stop looking at you across the table. Or the way you licked a smear of sauce from your thumb, and his breath caught like he’d been sucker-punched.
After, you followed him out to the barn, both of you laughing about something Amy had said earlier that week. But when you reached the doorway, the laughter fell away, leaving only silence. The kind that buzzed with unspoken things.
You turned, caught him watching you with that unreadable expression. Except this time, it wasn’t unreadable at all. This time it was raw want, blazing clear in his eyes.
“Rhett,” you whispered, like you weren’t sure if you should.
And that was all it took. The leash snapped.
He had you against the wall in two strides, his mouth crashing down on yours like he’d been starving. And maybe he had been—fifteen years of it, all breaking loose at once. His hands cupped your face, then slid lower, gripping your hips, dragging you against him.
The kiss was hungry, messy, teeth clashing until it softened, deepened, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that stole your breath. You moaned into his mouth, and the sound nearly undid him.
“Been thinkin’ about this—fuck—since you came back,” he rasped against your lips, forehead pressed to yours. His voice was rough, wrecked with restraint. “Can’t stop wantin’ you.”
Your fingers fisted in his shirt, tugging, urging. “Then don’t.”
He groaned, like you’d given him permission to unravel, and his hands roamed—up your back, down to cup the curve of your ass, pulling you tight to the hard line of him. You gasped, heat flooding you, your own hands sliding under his shirt, greedy for the feel of warm skin stretched over muscle.
His breath stuttered when you touched him, and he kissed you harder, desperate. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to his mouth, while the other slipped beneath your blouse, fingertips brushing bare skin.
“You’re drivin’ me crazy,” he murmured, teeth grazing your jaw, down your throat. “Fifteen damn years, and you come back lookin’ like this… how’m I supposed to keep my hands off you?”
You shivered, nails dragging across his chest. “Maybe you’re not.”
That broke him. His laugh was low, shaky, before it turned into another hungry kiss, heat rolling between you like wildfire.
He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you back against the wooden beam. His hat fell to the dirt, forgotten, his mouth never leaving yours. Every grind of his hips left you both trembling, breathless, desperate for more.
“Tell me to stop,” he groaned, voice rough in your ear, though his body made it clear he didn’t want to. “Tell me—or I’m not stoppin’.”
But the way you kissed him back, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, the way your hips rolled against him—it wasn’t stop you wanted. It was everything.
His warning fell apart in your mouth the second you pulled him closer. No hesitation, no pause—your kiss was your answer.
And Rhett lost whatever hold he’d had left.
He hauled you tighter against him, one hand braced against the beam, the other sliding under your blouse until it palmed bare skin. His thumb dragged over the curve of your breast, tentative for half a second, and then you arched into his touch with a gasp. That was all the permission he needed.
“Christ,” he muttered, kissing down your throat, sucking at the soft skin until you whimpered. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Your hands scrabbled at his shirt until he yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. Heat radiated off him—every inch of him solid muscle under rough skin, his chest rising hard and fast against you. You touched him like you had a right to, nails scraping lightly over his stomach, and his hips jerked into you, grinding you against the thick press straining his jeans.
“Feel what you do to me?” His voice was broken glass, rough and desperate. “My whole life of wantin’ you, and now—fuck, darlin’, I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t, please don’t,” you whispered again, breath hot against his ear.
He groaned, low and guttural, before his hands went to your thighs, hitching your skirt higher as he lifted you. Your legs locked around him instinctively, and he pinned you against the beam, rutting against you hard enough to make you both cry out.
You fumbled at his belt, clumsy with need, and he cursed, helping you until the buckle clattered loose. The sound of his zipper lowering was drowned by his mouth finding yours again, hungry, consuming, while his fingers shoved your underwear aside.
The first slide of him against you tore a moan from your throat—wet heat against aching hardness. His forehead dropped to yours, his breath ragged, holding back even now. “Tell me you need it.”
“I need it,” you gasped, grinding against him shamelessly. “Need you, Rhett—please.”
That was it. That was the last tether snapping.
With one rough thrust, he pushed into you, stretching you, filling you until your nails bit into his shoulders. You cried out, head falling back against the beam, and he groaned, the sound raw, like he’d been starving and finally got a taste.
“Fuck—you feel so good,” he panted, hips pulling back only to slam forward again, harder, deeper. Each thrust knocked the air out of you, heat pooling low and tight until you thought you might shatter.
The barn smelled of hay and sweat, but all you could taste, all you could feel, was him. His mouth on your neck, your shoulder, his teeth catching on your skin as he drove into you with a rhythm that left you trembling.
Your moans echoed in the rafters, mixing with his rough curses, his voice breaking every time he whispered your name. His hand slid between you, finding that bundle of nerves with calloused fingers, circling until your whole body arched.
“That’s it,” he urged, breath hot against your jaw. “Come on, darlin’—wanna feel you lose it for me.”
And you did. The wave hit hard, crashing through you, your cry muffled against his shoulder as you clenched tight around him. That almost ended him.
“Where, baby, where can I—”
“Inside, Rhett baby, please, inside.” At the desperation in your voice, Rhett felt his thrusts faltering, stuttering, until he buried himself deep with a groan that shook through both of you. His release tore from him, hot and heavy, his forehead pressed to yours as if anchoring himself in you.
The first few minutes are just breathing—chest to chest, foreheads pressed together, feeling the tremor of each other’s heartbeat settle. Rhett doesn’t let go. His hands stay on you, cradling your back, brushing your hair from your damp face, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you in this moment.
“You good?” His voice is rough, low, almost a whisper, but every syllable carries weight.
“I’m… yeah,” you murmur, still trembling, knees weak, fingers clutching his shoulders.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head, a sound full of disbelief and something softer—wonder, maybe. “Damn. Thought I might’ve broken you.”
“Just… stunned,” you breathe, letting a laugh slip through despite yourself. “In the best way.”
Rhett dips down, lips brushing your temple in a gentle kiss, then your forehead. His fingers trace down your spine slowly, deliberately, grounding you. “C’mon,” he murmurs. “Gotta get you sorted before we end up like this forever.”
You stumble slightly, half from weakness, half from the lingering tension in your body. He catches you instantly, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight enough that you’re supported but not trapped. The heat between you hasn’t vanished—it hums, quiet now, like embers in the hay—but his touch is calming, steady, making the barn feel less cavernous, more intimate, more yours.
He guides you toward a stack of hay bales, gently helping you sit. He sits beside you, close enough that your thighs touch, your hands finding his again naturally. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, slow, deliberate.
“You okay?” he asks again, softer this time, almost shy. His earlier hunger has melted into something warm and real.
“I am,” you whisper, leaning into his shoulder. “Thanks… for… everythin’.”
“Always,” he murmurs, a low chuckle slipping past his lips before he can stop it. You lift your eyes to him, curious, and he just shrugs.
“Your accent,” he says, voice husky, teasing, his fingers brushing lightly over yours.
One brow quirks, playful but curious. “My accent? What about it?”
“When I first saw you at the rodeo… it had softened over the years. But now…” His gaze drops to your mouth for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes. “…it’s slipping back, little by little. And it’s driving me crazy.”
You bite your lip, a shiver running through you at the husky tone, and grin, a flush rising to your cheeks. “Guess… you’re bringin’ out the best in me.”
He smirks, leaning closer, the warmth of his chest brushing yours. “The absolute best,” he murmurs, fingers curling around your wrist, tugging you just slightly nearer, like he can’t resist it.
One of his hands cups your cheek, tilting your head toward him for a slow, lingering kiss that tastes of sweat, hay, and desire—but now it’s sweet, intimate. A quiet affirmation that you’re here, together, and this… whatever this is… isn’t going anywhere.
Minutes pass in silence. Your breathing slows, the tremors fade, and you finally allow yourself to sink into the comfort of his arms. Rhett’s hand slides around your waist, holding you like he’s afraid to let go, and you press closer, realizing for the first time that the fire between you isn’t just physical—it’s something deeper, something that’s always been there, waiting.
After you’ve both calmed down and gathered everything again, the two of you make your way out. The barn door creaks as Rhett pushes it open, letting in the cool night air. Stars sprinkle the sky, endless and bright above the prairie. You squint for a moment, adjusting to the light, but it hardly matters—the world feels smaller, more private, because his hand is still wrapped around yours.
He leads you down the dirt path toward the farmhouse, boots crunching against the gravel. Every step feels deliberate, measured, as if he’s memorizing the moment, the way your fingers curl into his, the way your shoulder brushes against his chest. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, steady and grounding, like you’ve been carried on a current that’s finally reached shore.
“Do you know,” he murmurs, voice low and husky, “I never stopped thinkin’ about you? Never stopped wonderin’ if… if you’d come back, if you’d still be you, if you’d still make my chest ache just by smilin’ at me?”
You squeeze his hand, unable to speak for the lump in your throat. “I came back,” you whisper, “I’m here.”
He stops, pulling you closer, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. The way he looks at you—it’s not lustful anymore, not just that fire from earlier—it’s something deeper, something permanent. Like he’s looking at the one person he was always meant to find. “Here you are,” he repeats, like a prayer. “And I… I’m never lettin’ you go.”
You smile, a little breathless, a little dizzy from the years of waiting compressed into this single night. “Never,” you echo.
He chuckles softly, tilting your face up to his, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s gentle now, tender, full of promise. Not hurried. Not desperate. Just… sure. Anchored in everything that’s come before and everything that’s yet to be.
“Tomorrow,” he says against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you fully, “I’m takin’ you on a proper first date. No rushin’. No distractions. Just you and me. Startin’ the life we’ve been waiting for.”
You laugh softly, and it’s the happiest sound he’s ever heard. “I’d like that,” you murmur, still pressed against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your chest.
He dips his head, resting his forehead against yours, holding you there for a long, quiet moment. The prairie stretches out around you, but for the first time in fifteen years, it feels like home. Not the house you grew up in, not the town you left behind—but here, with him, right now.
“Forever, then?” he whispers, voice rough with emotion and certainty.
“Forever,” you confirm, and it feels like the simplest, truest answer you’ve ever given.
Hand in hand, you step out into the cool night, hearts aligned, leaving the dust, the rodeo, and fifteen years of waiting behind. Nothing else matters. Not the past, not the distance, not the time lost. All that matters is here, now—and the life you’ll build together from this moment forward.
Summary: For you, Bob Floyd is just the kind of guy you want. Smart. Sweet. Soft-spoken. The kind that won't break your heart. For Bob, you're the kind of woman that takes his breath away. Calm. Cool. Stunning. The kind you'd want to sweep off her feet. So this should be easy, right? Right?
Themes: Dagger Squad teasing, slow burn, jealousy, sexual tension, meddling
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy this fic! Initially thought of putting it in parts but realized that doing that for What We Never Were made each update too short so I wanted to give y'all longer updates.
Also I did write this until Chapter 4 but am considering a Chapter 5, depending on you guys really and what you want to see. :)
Note: Links in RED will have SMUT (or at least half of it)
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she went missing, disappeared without a trace, it was almost like a deep seated black hole found it's way into rhetts chest, as he recalls all his time spent with her admist trying to find answers, the deep seated energy of the cursed lands they live on come apart to make way for lovers to find each other again.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader haunting the narrative, missing persons, religious themes, supernatural elements if you squint. narrative told through time skips and flashbacks.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so the lewis pullman resurgence seems to have pulled me out of my cave, i can't promise ill be back to publishing on a regular occurence, but my ethel cain love has seemed to have pried this out of me. inspirations of a southern gothic nature, ethel cains music, and the movie lake mungo. if you guys get invested enough in this i'll release part two.
the dull hot wind is the only sound finding its way through the window opened only a crack, blowing the ripped white cotton curtains back and fourth softly, the peeling white paint around the window frame catching the early morning rays in a way that almost makes it look like a painting.
even in the cramped single bed with a spring mattress that creak with every minute movement made, they’re so still that no sound emerges from its springs. in this moment, nothing exists outside of this old bedroom, nothing except the pair of them achieving what some might consider peace, or at least whatever semblance of peace they could find in between the hellscape of a small christian town they live in together.
she smells like bar soap and the old antique perfume she’s had for god knows how long that never seems to run out, the cotton dress splayed over her body practically soaking up the scent which he makes a point of resting his nose against, his eyes shut softly as he feel’s her fingers running across his scalp, his head resting on her chest as he feels the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the slow heartbeat seemingly matching pause with his own to create a song unlike any he’s ever heard before.
maybe this is what they meant whenever they mentioned heaven, not some pair of pearly golden gates with a swarm of angelic choirs, maybe heaven was just this bedroom in her folks old farmhouse that they’d lived in for generations, maybe heaven was him resting atop her as she played with his hair absentmindedly and stared out the window to the field staring back at her with an overwhelming silence.
she felt like the mountains were watching her, like they were their own conscious being’s with such wisdom that would never match her own, guardians watching everybody live and die, countless stories they could never tell.
his eyes finally opened to stare across at her, the concern on her face seemingly breaking him out of the trance he was stuck in; this is how it always was when he was with her, he’d spend hours in her arms only for it to feel like minutes, lying in the arms of a creature like her, sometimes it felt as if he was looking across at the face of god, yet he knew how much trouble such a statement could get him in with her ma and pa, if they even knew about the pair of them.
so many nights climbing in and out of her window, fleeting moments and time spent together going down the drain quicker than he ever wanted it to, he wanted to get the fuck out of here, take her with him, go wherever his truck would take them.
he could see the worry in her eyes, the way she stared out the window like she knew something was coming that she couldn’t stop, some unmovable and unchangeable fate that she couldn’t run from if she tried.
when her head finally turned to face him, he could see the look of concern in her eyes now changed to sheer horror, her mouth opening but no sound coming out as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
rising from his resting place on her chest, just as he lifted his hand to place a hand on her cheek, he felt his hand fall into nothing, darkness overtaking anything he could see as the sudden feeling of falling intruded upon his senses like a wash of ice cold water.
-
4:02 AM
the red numbers across from him on his side table glared into his vision, the dull red light only filling up a small amount of his bedroom as he awoke with a soft gasp, his eyes looking around wildly for a few moments as he sat up quickly; trying desperately to find her in his bed where he could have sworn she had been only moments ago.
the reality of where he was came crashing down on him as his eyes flutter closed, the ramming thumping of his heart beat trying its hardest to crawl its way out of his chest as he lifted a hand to his face, the feeling of sweat across his skin bringing him back down to earth.
every time he had that dream, it always felt like he got closer every damn time, that maybe he’d finally be able to touch her and hold her.
maybe this time he’d be able to bring her back with him, out of his dreams and back into his arms where she belonged.
everybody in town had tried to tell him that she’d skipped town, that she was probably my halfway across the country with a new name and a new identity.
it wasn’t uncharacteristic of the people in this place to try and bury the memory of that they didn’t understand, try to pretend like it never even existed in the first place; they sure as hell never understood her, even he didn’t sometimes. sometimes when he’d look in her eyes, he had no idea what was looking back at him, what sort of secrets lied behind those pools and what was she trying to run from.
the sheriff’s effort was minimal when it came to investigating her disappearance, extending as far as putting up a few missing posters with a photo of her standing smiling in the church choir, the smile on her face doing nothing to off set the look that was always ever present in her eyes, the picture always being more haunting than fond to him.
it seemed that he was the only one who wasn’t content to just let her fade into obscurity, for the missing posters to just become another face in the crowd to be forgotten, the image of her continued to remain burned into his mind, his every waking moment taken up by questions of where she was, what happened, was she okay?
it had been like this every day since she hadn’t shown up to church on sunday, concern seeming to rise with her folks when she’d remained gone since that morning, unsure if she’d even come home that night.
it wasn’t the missing church that had made rhett start to feel that pit of dread in his stomach, it was the fact that she hadn’t been to see him.
as far as he’d been told, all her possessions were left behind in her room, nothing was missing save for the silver cross she always wore around her neck, the only thing she would never leave the house writhing, the cross he’d held between his fingers as she lay beneath him many a night, looking up at him like he was an angel.
when she was officially declared missing, he’d be unable to hide his reaction, his jaw tensing when her ma had relayed all the details to him with a shaky voice when she’d come by to ask if he’d seen her, citing that she’d seen her chatting to him after church once or twice.
if only her poor old ma had known just how deep their connection went, just how much her daughter’s disappearance was causing bile to feel like it was rising in his throat, a black hole growing larger and larger the longer she was gone.
it like she’d simply ceased to exist, like she was there one moment and the next not. but he knew that didn’t happen, people don’t just fade out of existence and never return. she had to be somewhere out there, somewhere waiting for him.
seven weeks later, and her absence was still a constant presence leering over him at all times, seeing her missing posters as he drove past the bus stop in his rusted truck, seeing her folks farmhouse up on the hill as he drove across the dirt road back to his own home.
he’d taken the time to visit her folk’s every now and then, convincing himself he wanted to see how they were holding up, telling himself you would have wanted him to make sure they were doing okay; once every few weeks became once a week, which then became every three days. he’d bring them groceries when they needed them, even stayed to make sure her ma would actually eat, the grief of her lost daughter seeming to place her in a downward spiral.
her pa wasn’t handling it any better, spending his every waking hour in the shed out back, isolating himself from everyone around him and refusing to speak to anybody save for a sentence or two, most of all rhett.
he could make sure her ma was okay at the very least, even if it meant sitting with her in the kitchen as she showed him through photo albums looking over childhood photos of her standing ankle deep in the lake down the hill from her house, her face frozen in a laugh as she held her white church dress up away from the water.
the pain was like a hot knife searing across his throat, keeping himself composed even as her poor mother shed her tears for her lost daughter, joining his hand with hers in a prayer even if he never thought of himself as a particularly godly man.
yet even now, sending off his prayers to a god he didn’t believe in hardly seemed like a fool’s act, silently promising that if he could find his way back to her, that he’d never question again, never stop going to church till he was too old to walk, and even then, he’d damn well crawl.
when he’d first seen her standing in the family graveyard across the field, he’d thought it was his own mind playing tricks on him, convincing himself that the lack of sleep from staying up all night with a grieving mother had made him so weary to the point he was now seeing the flow of her white church dress in the distant darkness of the night.
when he’d blinked, turning his head completely to face the eerie site of the uneven headstones sticking into the ground, there was nothing there, only the reeds growing out of the hollow ground flowing silently in the cool autumn wind.
as he’d climbed back into his truck and slammed the door shut, he taken a moment to rest his forehead on the steering wheel, a deep sigh emerging from his ribs as he tried to reason with himself, assure himself that he wasn’t going nuts, a trick of the light shining down on the farm by the half moon was all it was.
the land around here had a strange way of playing tricks on people, sometimes it felt like the ground itself was breathing, like standing in the back of a giant. the tree’s were ancient the mountains even more so, some used to say that there were forces at play that would drive even the most sane man to do unspeakable acts.
maybe the land itself had swallowed her up and stole her from him, claiming its pound of flesh in order to keep some undisturbed force at bay.
if that had been the case, he would have gladly allowed himself to be swallowed up with her.
he truly hadn’t mean to go looking, he’d insisted with himself that it was purely because the police weren’t doing enough, having essentially filed her away to the depths of a cabinet to be forgotten. he told himself that if he just went a little further, he might finally be able to have her back in his arms safe and happy just like he always had.
sometimes going looking results in more questions than answers, even worse so, answers to questions you’d never think to ask.
he didn’t know what he’d expected to find as he stalked through the tree line near her families home, his eyes peering from top to bottom as he searched for any sign of her presence, any little detail that could give him insight into where she’d gone.
even if it had turned up with nothing, he could at least find some semblance of peace knowing there was nothing to be found.
and yet, he had done so little to prepare himself for the possibility that something would find him.
hanging across a branch in the distance, catching the sunlight in a way that had managed to catch his eye instantly, swinging softly in the wind, was that exact same silver cross, swaying back and fourth with a soft almost silent jingling as the silver chain collided with itself.
moving in an abnormal way for the noticeable lack of wind, he took little notice of its almost unnatural movements, only able to let out a pained sound as he wrapped his hands around the chain and pulled it from its place hanging on a thin branch.
from its placement, all the way to the harsh movements, he couldn’t help but feel like she was calling for him, reaching out of the darkness and pleading with him to find her, a silent scream for help.
-
12:38 am
Running the delicate silver chain along his finger tips, he’d made little effort to fight back the emotion of finding the necklace, his throat on fire with the tears he let fall, he couldn’t even tell himself if it was because he was grateful to finally have a piece of her back with him for the first time in months, almost as if her energy was practically radiating off of the metal, or if he was more terrified of the implications that came with it.
He refused to ask himself the why’s and the hows of the necklace ending up hung on a tree in the woods, only promising himself that he’d return to those woods again tomorrow, try and see if there was anything else to be found that might tell him even a little bit more about what happened to her.
Staring up at the dull cream coloured ceiling of his bedroom, he could only pull the cross over his head and let it rest over his heart as he held his hand over it and tried to fill his mind with happier memories of her, anything that could alleviate from the horrifying images that his mind was playing back like a reel, swimming in a pool of all the things that could have happened to her, trying to believe they weren’t true.
-
It had been a muggy night in the summer when they’d first crossed path’s, even though it was late in the evening, the small town was still brimming with the occasional sound of children yelling out, finally allowed to stay out a little later in the evening to do whatever it is that the young ones did nowadays.
He was hardly excluded from a summer night of activities just like everybody else, seemingly wanting to take advantage of the warm nights while they still could, before they were sucked back into a cold dark winter that brought with it early sundowns and frostbitten mornings.
The warm summer evening’s brought with it a populace of folk trying to beat the hot night air by venturing down to the lake just down the road from the church, a freshwater sanctuary hidden by tree’s that went barely touched save for the summer months.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d spotted the group of teens running down towards the church as he’d passed in his truck, headlights clearing the dirt road in front of him, revealing what the moonlight couldn’t.
In his defense, he’d hardly ever needed to pay much attention to the road at hours as late as this.
The stream of white suddenly in front of him had him slamming his foot on the brake so hard that it lurched him forward, a painful reminder of the seatbelt he’d clipped in earlier which dug into his collar.
With wide set eyes and his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white, he allowed to headlights to make the image in front of him clearer, his heart ramming in his ears so hard he could barely even hear the rumble of the engine.
She’d might as well have been a deer in headlights, her white dress flowing against the soft warm wind as she held a towel closely to her chest, almost as if it would have been a barrier between her and the truck had he not stepped on the break soon enough.
Her wide set eyes focusing on him were quickly moved to the other side of the road, the sound of amused screeches of other girls ringing out as one of her friends ran across to grip her wrist and pull her the rest of the way across the road, playfully calling her an idiot as she urged her to move.
Her friends amusement at the prospect of her being hit by a car wasn’t as distracting as the fact that as she began to run the rest of the way across the road and towards the lake just down the hill, she turned suddenly and looked back at him through his passenger side window, an unreadable look crossing over her features as the world suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.
The truck didn’t start moving again until she was completely out of sight, disappearing over the hill and completely out of rhett’s field of view, seemingly entranced by the sight of her white dress shining against the field’s in the moonlight.
The next time he’d seen her had been at the church at the top of the hill. Even if we wasn’t in attendance himself, he’d offered to fix the broken fence surrounding the almost decrepit building, something to keep him busy, probably didn’t hurt that it kept him in the church folk’s good graces, considering just how many of them were littered around the town.
He was never one for religion, never saw much point in prayer, he’d been under the belief that life dishes out what it does, and that you could only move on and make the most of it for as long as he could remember. But it wasn’t his place to judge what people did to bring themselves any small comfort when it came to the ups and downs throughout, if somebody could gather any form of faith that made things make just a little more sense, he couldn’t blame them.
When that same white church dress came into his peripheral vision like a ghost, he couldn’t have not looked, almost like the wind was singing to him, urging him to look up from the particularly stubborn nail he was trying to pry out of the wood and catch sight of the angel stood at the entrance of the church.
The sounds of shuffling and footsteps seemed to signify that the service was coming to an end, the chattering sounds of voices beginning to grow louder and louder as people began to leave.
It was that same goddamn pair of eyes on him, just as they had been when she’d been stood in front of the headlights of his truck, only this time paired witha tilted head as she seemed to observe him from a distance, her expression once more unreadable, only before the soft smile came across her plush lips when they’d made eye contact.
He’d stood from where he was kneeling like a reflex, taking a moment to adjust the cap sat on his head, never once breaking the eye contact shared between them, silent yet such an exchange of energy that speaking could never achieve, an unknowable interaction shared only between the two of them.
That was the day he’d finally learnt her name, when he’d heard the sound of her mother calling it from inside, finally causing a break in their eye contact as she turned her head to smile at her mother walking out and taking her daughters arm, the pair stepping down the small set of wooden stairs and onto the dirt ground.
He’d made a point to look away, just as a matter of politeness, yet because he knew what church folk were like, especially with their daughters, and he could only imagine what it might look like if he was caught staring at her like a bobcat stared at jackrabbit.
I’m begging on my hands and knees for more Owen smut! There is literally nothing for him and I’m so devastated. He’s so fucking hot I’m sorry, I know he’s a shit character but you can still think he’s fucking hot; would you consider writing for him but with an of age reader who is obvs not a minor !
Maybe reader is really bratty and teases him but they can’t stand eachother and one day he snaps and ends up fucking the absolute daylights out of her (which she fully enjoys) pls bonus points for dirty talk and choking kink xx
Learn To Love
requested?: yes
pairing(s): owen taylor x afab!reader
genre: smut
warning(s): (slight) mentions of church/religion (not specified if reader and her family are religious, so each to your own), for purposes of this fic owen is not taken (I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING, DO NOT DO IT), reader chews gum (show horror), angry sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation, degredation, teasing, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (wrap it, its getting cold again), spanking, choking, dirty talk, hair pulling
summary: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳...
word count: 3.5k
a/n:i feel you boo, i really do. ugh, i love all of the characters lewis plays. skincare (nothing else needed). THE TEENAGE DREAM SCENE?!?! #NEEDTHAT. nobody couldve prepared me for that SCRUMPTIOUS scene. anyways, there isnt much fics out there for this man (and i see why) but here you go anon, hope you all enjoy bc i poured my heart and soul into this (thats why its so late, i send all my apologies)! remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! -Cilla
owen taylor. he made you so very infuriated that every time you looked at him, your heart started beating ten times faster than the average person. you hated him, despised of him. owen taylor and his cocky attitude and his arrogant façade. it enraged you, and you hated him for making you feel how you felt. you hated him, until you didn’t.
unfortunately enough for you, your families were very close, and you couldn’t drive, which meant owen had to drive you home from church every time you and your family attended, much to your dismay.
however, that is not to say you didn’t annoy owen as well, because you did. your favourite way to tick him off was chewing gum. yes, it was seen as sinful, but it was a habit you couldn’t break out of, so you did it anyways.
there was various times where you would sit in the passenger seat of owen’s car and pat your thighs rhythmically to the tune of the song playing on the old radio station he listened too after all this time, chewing gum with no care in the world. until owen ruined your fun by sticking his hand out in front of your face, gesturing for you to spit the sinful object into his hand, you always did, perhaps annoyed (fearful) that he may kick you out of his pick-up and force you to walk all the way back home, in the cold, in the dark.
he never made the threat, but you weren’t willing to test your luck, it got dark quick this time of year, not to mention the cold.
he would always drop you off home safely, vexed, but safely. you would mutter a begrudged ‘thanks’ and get out of his car, walking frantically to the front door in a hope to not have to see his antagonizing face until the next day, when the cycle would repeat again. and it did. day after day, week after week.
today was no different. same routine, different season. it the dead middle of summer, the heat prickling against your skin, coating it in a sheen layer of sweat, making you glisten in the mid-afternoon sun. the passenger window was open, your hair rustling with the passing breeze as owen drove you home. he hadn’t spoken to you all day, nor had he looked at you as you made your way to his car, you thought he was just in one of his moods again.
you were chewing gum, as you usually did. it wasn’t like you were being loud or anything, but when owen stuck his hand out in front of your face, you knew he was for sure in one of his moods. usually he would at least glance over at you when he was driving as he did it, more focused on the road, but this time he didn’t, just stuck his hand out and expected you to spit.
you stared at him for a couple of seconds, waiting for him to say something or glance over at you to see what was taking you so long, but he didn’t. then you made up your mind: two can play at this game, owen taylor. you focused your attention back out of the window, letting your hair swirl around in your face as you watched the trees go by in a blur of browns and greens.
you heard him scoff as he retracted his hand and placed it back on the steering wheel. you looked over again with a hint of a smirk on your face, seeing his knuckles turn white before you turned your attention back outside.
you were pretty proud of yourself, until owen made a turn you didn’t remember being in your normal route home, because it wasn’t. you looked over at him, his face still stern as ever and unmoving as he wound his way through the wooded road. you didn’t recognise this place at all, until owen stopped outside of a secluded, somewhat of a farm house.
“this is your home?” you guessed, glancing around. there was a small patch of green which you could only assume was his home-grown vegetables. he got out of his side of the car, you did the same. he still wasn’t answering you and was instead making his way to the house, you followed him, spitting protests that you wanted to go home.
you followed owen all the way to his kitchen before he spun around, most likely sick of your whining. he instantly grabbed your chin and stared at you, deep into your eyes, watching and observing you. you searched his face for anything, he gave you nothing.
“spit” this time he told you, you were almost inclined not to listen again, to test his limits and see how far he would go before he snapped. you narrowed your eyes at him, challenging him, he glared down at you, accepting your challenge.
you didn’t spit the gum out, not yet he was resisting your attempts to rile him up, you had to give him credit there. he resisted good, but only for a couple more minutes before he was squishing your cheeks forcefully, and gave you a look, a look you knew that meant he wasn’t going to take any more of your bullshit. you decided to slowly spit the gum out, it landed in the palm of his hand.
he instantly took his hand away and put the gum into the bin before washing his hands.
“you’re being sinful whenever you do that, y’know” he remarked, not bothering to look at you as he dried his hands off.
“why are we here? i want to go home” you said pointedly, ignoring his declaration and instead focusing on getting home.
“yeah well, i told your parents you were back late, helping me at the church”
“when would they ever believe that?”
“since i sent a message through your phone as well” you paused at that, looking him up and down before narrowing your eyes.
“you have my phone!” you exclaimed bitterly as you soon realised you didn’t have your phone, he reached into his back pocket and handed it to you.
“you should really take better care of your things, could get stolen one day”
“you sound like my dad” you sneered.
“maybe you should listen to him then” and with that, you were back to glaring at one another.
you were the first to break, scoffing and plopping yourself down on his sofa with your chin in resting on your hands.
“so what do you want me to do?” you asked grumpily, glancing around at his decorations. bleak, like his personality.
“i want you to sit there and be a good girl while i do my work” you raised a brow at his words
“excuse me?”
“you heard me” he said, his face getting closer to yours, his arms either sides of you, trapping you against the back of the sofa “be a good girl while i do my work” his voice was deeper now, more husky. you looked up at him through your lashes, he was already staring down at you, his eyes looking slightly more brown now as opposed to his blue before.
“what’s your work?” you asked meekly.
“punishing you for your sinful actions” your eyes widened at his confession, watching as he stood back up to his full height. “bend over the arm of the sofa” he ordered. he had an indifferent tone, but you knew now that you shouldn’t test him, so you did as he said.
as soon as you laid your stomach over the arm of the chair, your dress rode up, exposing your ass. you watched as owen moved to stand behind you, before he moved out of your periphery, so you couldn’t see him anymore.
“a thong? such a slut” you rubbed your thighs together as owen tutted, a wet patch already forming in the centre of your panties.
owen slipped a finger inside of your panties, you immediately bucked your hips towards his hand from the slight friction he offered. but instead of giving you what you wanted, he hooked a finger around your panties and dragged them down, nothing but a string of your slick connecting them to you.
as soon as your panties were far enough down your thighs, owen’s fingers returned back to your slit, dragging his fingers down, teasing your hole and going straight down to your clit, flicking it experimentally. your hips bucked again, but this time down into the sofa, owen chuckled at your subconscious reaction from behind you, earning a small huff from you.
“you aren’t in any position to be huffing at this point, babygirl” he landed a spank on your ass, “what did i tell you before, hm?” he spanked you again when you didn’t answer, earning a small yelp from you, “what did i tell you?” his tone became more harsh and meaningful, spanking you a few more times, making you jolt forwards.
“be a good girl and let you do your work” you whined, repeating his words back to him.
“there she is, the good girl that i know you can be”
he wasted no time in shoving his fingers inside of you, instantly stretching you around him, you choked out a small noise, but took him the best you could, allowing yourself to get lost in the pleasure he was finally giving you. with his other hand, he played with your clit, using his middle finger to swirl around it and circle it, giving it an occasional pinch.
you were loud when your orgasm started to build. you hadn’t been touched in so long, you had almost forgotten the feeling, but you knew for sure that you were beginning to get close. owen must have decided you were being too loud for his liking, because just as you were about to reach pure ecstasy, he removed both of his hands. you cried out in protest, owen just pulled your hair back roughly, enough that your back was now pressed to his chest.
he nudged his knee in-between your thighs and spoke directly into your ear.
“i thought i told you to shut the fuck up and let me work” he spoke intimidatingly, his voice hoarse and low, a silent threat hanging in the air. you knew if you weren’t quiet then you wouldn’t get what you wanted. owen spanked your pussy, your clit stung with the aftermath, “hm? answer me you little slut”
“you did” you yelped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as he started rubbing harsh tight circles on your clit. your juices dripped down your thighs, coating them in your slick mixed with sweat, you were starting to get hotter and more needy, shifting your hips so you were getting more friction from his fingers.
the next spank was unexpected and made your hips jump back into owen’s, feeling his length through his trousers as he was growing increasingly more hard by the second, watching you take the little pleasure he had given you.
soon, you were turned around, your dress unzipped with practised ease that you didn’t know if owen had ripped the fabric open or if he had actually taken the time to unzip it. the dress pooled around your ankles, and your breasts immediately spilled out, courtesy of you deciding not to wear a bra this morning.
“fuckin’ knew it, saw those nipples pressing against that flimsy fuckin’ fabric the whole service” he dipped his head in the crevice of your neck and sucked harshly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to leave a warning: ‘don’t do that again’. his hand that was reasting just under your ass spanked it again.
“m’ sorry, it won’t happen again” you whimpered softly.
“look at you, losing all your fight, am i fucking you too good, babygirl?” he cooed, you looked up at him again, already too stunned and he had only just started touching you.
owen pushed you down onto the sofa, lifting your left leg over the arm of his sofa. he kneeled down before you and brought your other leg over his shoulder, your heel pressed into his spine. he looked up at you as he dipped his mouth down and licked a stripe up your pussy. you felt hot again, jerking your hips up to chase the feeling of pleasure.
owen didn’t like this because he slapped your clit again before smoothing his tongue back over it, attempting to soothe the sting, you moaned out as he did so, but he wasn’t giving you much time to get used to the feeling of him slowly eating you out as he soon started suckling and flicking your clit with his tongue.
he made you see stars with the way he was moving his mouth. he removed his lips from your clit and moved down, shoving his tongue inside of your hole and curling it at just the right way. he pressed down on your hips so you wouldn’t move again, which also allowed him to get more leverage, slurping up your juices like he was deprived of drink for so long.
he was obsessed with the way you tasted, along with the musky scent of your arousal. his nose bumped against your clit repeatedly, his tongue curling every time. the mixed stimulation making your vision go hazy, the knot beginning to form in your stomach. owen didn’t move yet, making you think he would finally let you come.
but just as you were teetering on the edge of release, he pulled away. you groaned crossly, looking down at him with frustration in your eyes. he smiled up at you, wiping his mouth from your juices, watching you as you shifted to get more comfortable.
“fuck you” you spat.
“you’ll have to wait a bit before you can do that, sugar” he retorted, grabbing your thong that was discarded long ago, he bunched them up and brought them up to your face. “open” he tapped your bottom lip with his pinkie.
you did as he said, hoping it would get you rewarded in some way. he stuffed the panties in your mouth, making you taste the tanginess of your slick. you rolled your eyes back as you gagged on the panties.
“now you’ll shut up while i do my work and make you feel good, okay?” he slapped your pussy roughly when you didn’t reply. the panties did well to muffle your yelp, but afterwards, you cried out. a tear flowed down your cheek, you were desperate, anything would do, any touch, even words would do at this point, so you nodded, without a noise.
as soon as he was sure that you wouldn’t make a noise, his mouth was back on your wetness. somehow, you were even more soaked than you were before, juices dripping from your hole as he lapped at your clit, already sensitive from the two destroyed orgasm you had been so close to getting.
the lewd sounds of his licks and your muffled moans bounced off the walls around you, echoing in the mid-afternoon softness. you were holding back from jerking your hips up to meet his mouth, wanting to get yourself more pleasure, but owen’s hands also kept you rooted to your place on the sofa.
owen sucked on your clit harshly, another gush of your juices dripped down from your hole and down to the sofa cushion beneath you. owen made a disapproving noise against you, the sound sending vibrations through you straight to your core. the bottom of your spine tingled with pleasure, your back was almost arching off the sofa cushions, and you were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure you were receiving.
tears were now flowing freely, a silent plea to let you come on his mouth, stars clouded your vision as the knot tightened in your abdomen you were trying to rut against owen’s mouth, you were so close, only a little bit more would push you over the edge, and owen wasn’t slowing his sucking down.
that was, until he stopped the sucking altogether. you whimpered at the loss of contact, he removed his hands and his mouth altogether and stood up in front of you. you watched him with tear filled eyes, watching as he rid himself of his shirt and his trousers, leaving himself with only his underwear.
he grabbed you by your hips and spun you around so you were bent over the seat. your knees kept you somewhat upright while owen gripped your hair, keeping your face pressed into the cushions. your panties were still in your mouth as you cried out. owen pressed his knee in-between your thighs, keeping them open. you heard him move behind you before his unclothed cock was pressing into your ass, hard and leaking with pre-cum.
“look at how hard i am for you, this is what you do to me, y’know that?” you could only huff in response, your tears soaking the cushion under you more than the juices from your pussy already had. owen’s hand came up around your throat, bringing you upright, your back pressed against his chest. with his other hand, he took your panties out of your mouth. “need to hear you when i make you come, yeah?”
“yeah” you replied quietly, owen smiled and kissed your cheek softly, tasting the saltiness of your tears.
you cried out as owen lined himself up with your hole, pressing himself inside you. he stretched you out in the best way possible. it burned at first, but soon you were feeling pure ecstasy with the way the tip of owen’s cock pressing against that spot inside of you that owen has discovered made you feel amazing.
he started moving slowly at first, just simply rutting into you, grunting in your ear with each movement. you also made small noises with each of his movements, your pussy squelching around him and forcing him back in whenever he pulled out. but soon, his movements became more erratic and forceful as he drove himself into you with such a force that you jerked forwards with each movement.
his left hand stayed tight around your throat, squeezing whenever your cunt sucked him back into your warmth. you were soaking, juices still dripping down your thighs, making you more slippery and somewhat harder to fuck. owen opened your thighs wider, allowing him to fuck you harder and make it easier for him to do so.
he was making you feel so good, your pussy clamping down around him gratefully. your head rested on his shoulder, his mouth right next to your ear as he groaned and grunted.
“you tasted so good” he said, his voice strained from the pleasure he was trying to suppress, although the grip he held on you said different as he fucked into you with more and more ferocity. he was getting close, but you were even closer. “god, you feel so good wrapped around me, dirty little slut. you’ve always wanted this, haven’t you? someone to shut you up and put you in your place? hm? answer me” he slowly got angrier, his thrusts getting harder and longer.
“yes- oh- always wanted this” you agreed with him, wanting him to give you all the pleasure and let you come already, you were so close.
you were pleading with him to let you come now, pleading with him to make you feel good and you would be good with him for the rest of your life, you just felt so good.
“awe, my dumb little whore needs to come? you need to come so good?”
“yes-need to come- please, god please”
“not god, just owen”
“oh- owen, please let me come- i’ll be good, so good” tears were falling again.
owen knew you were close with the way your body jolted when he touched your clit, a small touch at first. but he was just slowly building you up. he would end up swirling your clit, pressing down on it and circling it to add more stimulation. you were frantically moaning and fucking yourself down onto his cock so he wouldn’t move away, and this time he didn’t.
his cock was halfway inside of you when you came, your cunt spasming around him, sucking him back into you. juices spurted out of you as your vision went black, almost going faint with the force of your orgasm. owen came not long after you, the warmth and tightness of your pussy making the knot inside of his stomach snap. his fingers tightened around your neck, but relaxed as he rode you both out of your highs.
owen was cleaning you up when he spoke to you next, dragging a damp warm cloth up your folds, the rough fabric grazing against your clit slightly, your hips jumped away from him.
“y’gonna stop chewing gum now?” he asked, muttering an apology as he grazed against your clit again.
“not if it makes me feel that good again” you joked back, you had regained some of your confidence, but not all. “you should take me back home now though”
“i told your parents you were spending the night at the church with me”
“you wanna tell them we fucked as well?” you joked, he didn’t find that funny, as he purposefully dragged the cloth against your clit.
and that was only the start of the rest of your evening.
A/N- Hihihi! The idea for a character who’s an actress and has like a thousand hobbies (partially because of her adhd lol) had been nagging at my brain for months so I finally took a break from daydreaming about it and actually wrote something. This isn’t the kind of stuff I usually like (which is gut wrenching angst) so I hope it doesn’t suck. And if u do like it, lemme know if you’d want to read more of this character and lewie
Warnings- reader is dumb asf
Pairing- Lewis Pullman x reader
Word count- 3,122 (i got a little carried away sorry)
Interviewer: "So how did you two first meet?"
You: "Well it was more of a starstruck moment," you let out a slow chuckle as you recalled the memory.
Interviewer; “That sounds interesting! What was it like-“ he asks. “Were you two fans of each other before meeting? What was the reaction?”.
Lewis; "Um no actually" he chuckles.
"You see, I was the one who was starstruck when I saw her, and she-" he passes you a glance. "She had no idea who I was," he laughs.
You rub a hand behind your neck, still embarrassed by that.
Interviewer; "Really?" He widens his eyes. "You didn't know who he was?" he asks you.
You began shaking your head, "Yeah actually I had no idea who he was when he first spoke to me," you let out a loose chuckle.
***
It was a quiet afternoon in Milan. The rain was pouring in gentle waves, bringing an unprecedented relief in the middle of summer.
You'd gone there with your best friend, for a change of scenery.
You were sitting in the small diner, looking out at the clouds gathered above out of the window.
"So you'd be getting back to LA next week?" Your friend, asked, as she sat down in front of you.
The booth was secluded, at the last corner of the diner that wasn't too filled, nor too empty.
"Yeah" you sighed, pressing a hand to your eyelids. "Being in Germany for four months straight in all that cold” you sighed. “ Turns out it can really take a toll on all the mental peace,” you let out a dry chuckle.
You raised your elbows to rest your head on your hands.
"That's exactly why I insisted you come along with me" she pushed a plate towards you.
The aroma of the freshly made blueberry pancakes made your mouth water. "You know," your friend took a bite of her food, chewing in the middle of her sentences. "so that you could get a break from all that, you know?" She raised her shoulder.
"Plus there’s way less of all that paparazzi stuff going on here,".
"Yeah" you agreed, lifting your fork to your mouth. "That's one of the biggest reasons why I'm grateful to be here".
"Plus, it's nice here," you smiled, as you looked out the window. "The weather- it’s great, less crowds of people, less of the- " you lifted a shoulder. "what's that phrase you always use?" you cocked your head to a side.
"Fear of being perceived," she reminded you.
"Yeah that” you pointed a finger.
"Less of the fear of being perceived", you lifted a corner of your mouth. "My only regret is that we couldn't stay here longer" your graze grew distant.
"Yeah" your friend nodded in agreement. Life always gets in the way" she pursed her lips.
You give her a distant nod.
Just then you hear the diner bell ring as you shift your focus back on the window.
A slow, quiet breeze was blowing now, making the trees sway, as if they were dancing to a familiar, beloved melody.
A man walked in your general direction and sat down in the booth opposite to yours.
By the time you were done with your meal, the rain had slowed down.
The heavy rumble of the rain had slowed down to a soft, quiet patter of raindrops.
You handed the check to the waitress who offered you a kind smile and told you to ‘have a nice day’ in a way that made you believe she’d actually meant it.
"You too" you offered her a smile before the two of you stepped outside.
You didn't see him approaching at first, didn't hear the sound of his footsteps, not until he called out your name.
You paused your conversation, and turned around.
A few loose strands of your hair clung to the skin near your eyes.
You saw him then, really saw him, as he strode towards you.
You saw the few waves of his light brown hair that fell near his eyes, but he paid no attention to them.
You noticed the soft blues of his eyes, eyes that looked like the calm that an ocean attained after a long, fiery storm, eyes that felt like a gentle breeze after a long, harsh summer.
"Yes?" You asked, brushing away the strands of hair away from your face.
"Hi" he gave you a small wave as the corners of his mouth slowly lifted up.
"Hi" you waved back in response, your expression matching his.
"I-I'm," he stammered, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "I'm a huge fan of your works and I admire- the work you do" he smiled as he explained.
You widened your eyes briefly in surprise, "Thank you" you smiled. "That means a lot, really" You nodded.
"Of course," he raised his shoulders. "I- I'm Lewis" he pointed a hand towards himself.
"Hi Lewis, pleasure to meet you" you offered him a hand, unsure of what else to do.
He blinked a few times, opened his mouth briefly then closed it back again, "You too" he shook your hand.
A barrier of awkward silence hung between the two of you.
You stood with a small smile on your face, confused as to why he didn't make any further attempts to converstane, nor did he ask for any pictures, or anything, like an actual fan would.
Instead he stood with anticipation in his eyes.
It was your friend who broke the silence, "Y/n" she said firmly.
You assumed she was asking you to get going.
"Alright I'll-" you pointed a thumb towards the street.
"Yeah- yeah of course" the man, Lewis chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair.
Without another word, you began walking ahead.
After merely taking a few steps, your friend spoke up. "Dude!" She practically shrieked.
"What?" you yelled out in confusion.
"Did you not-" she looked at you with eyes widened comically big. "Did you not recognize who that was!?" she asked.
"Who-that?" you looked back at the man who was walking away in the opposite direction. "No?" you offered helplessly.
"Oh my god" she pressed her hands to her forehead as she groaned. "Dude, that was Lewis Pullman!" she declared.
You blinked hard a couple of times, then looked back at her with a furrowed brow, "Who?" you asked, extremely confused by the girl’s overly exaggerated reaction.
"Wha-" she parted her lips. "Bill Pullman's son!? The drummer from Attaboy??" she elaborated.
It as then only that the rusted old gears of your brain began to shift into place. "Oh" you realised.
"Yeah 'oh'" she mimicked you.
“OH!" You yelled. "SHIIIIT" you cursed, mouth hung open in disbelief.
"Good riddance" she pressed a hand to her forehead, slowly shaking her head.
"I am such an idiot" you declared.
"Yep" she pursed her lips. "Yeah you are” she clicked her tongue.
"Shit I-" you pointed a finger in the backwards direction. "I- I gotta go back and like- apologise or something" you waved your arms in the air.
"God!" your friend pressed a hand to her face, slowly shaking her head in disbelief.
“Well, go on now, what are you waiting for?” she raised a hand in question.
“What like, right now?” you hesitated.
“No just wait 4 to 5 business does” she gave you a blank stare. “Yes! Now!” she jerked her hand.
“Jeez” you raised your hands up in defense before quickly bolting in the opposite direction.
“Hey Lewis, wait!" you called out from behind as you ran towards him, the edges of your coat bellowing in the wind.
He whipped his head around as he stopped in his tracks.
He widened his eyes, his lips parted in confusion as you approached him.
"Hi sorry" you stopped in front of him, breathless from running as you spoke.
"Yeah?" he asked, shock clearly registered on his face. "Is- is everything alright?" he asked, concern soon spreading over his features.
"Hi", you offered him a smile as you took a moment to catch your breath. "I'm- I am so sorry" you began. "I had no idea who you were," you explained.
“I mean I know who you are, I'm a big fan to be honest and that's like, not just to make up or anything" you rambled as your friend came walking at a normal pace towards the two of you.
"It's just I really- do like your work" You waved your hands frantically as you continued to explain.
"It's just that I'm not very good at placing faces and names together like I know a person by their face and I know their name but I don't seem to realise it's the same person with that name, you know?" you let out a nervous chuckle. "You know what I mean?" you asked, helplessly.
“Yeah," Lewis nodded as he slowly began to chuckle. “I get what you mean".
"And it's completely alright don't worry" he reassured.
"I just thought you weren't interested in socializing on vacation, that's what I assume you're here for?" he leaned his head forward.
"Yeah" you nodded.
"We're just here to take a little break from work" you motioned at your friend who smiled at Lewis as she introduced herself.
"And no no, it's really not like I didn't want to talk to you" you hurriedly offered an explanation. "I was just-" you let out a nervous chuckle. "A little confused" you scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment.
"Well, we can talk right now if you'd like that," Lewis offered, a small smile forming on his face.
"Yeah sure, of course," you agreed.
"Alright, great" he chuck grinned. "I was just going to explore the area a bit”.
"Would you guys like to come along?" he asked you and your friend.
"Yeah, sure that sounds nice" you smiled as you agreed. You turned to your friend "Would you-" you began.
But she quickly cut you off, "No no you guys go ahead I need to head back to the hotel” she pointed her thumb. “I just realized I forgot my wallet there”.
"Alright" you nodded, confused because you saw her take it out a while ago.
But you chose to ignore her response and began to tread forward with Lewis.
"So what are you here for?" you asked him.
"Oh me?” he raised his eyebrows. “Same reason as you actually” he put his hands in his pockets.
“I was near the city for work and I had a couple days until my flight so I figured, hey” he raised his shoulders.
“Why not see the city? Explore?” he gave a sideways nod.
You nodded, “Oh that's nice” you smiled.
“What about you?” he turned to you. “Like, why’d you guys choose to come to Milan for vacation?”.
"Oh my friend-" you pointed to the direction your friend had just ran off to. "She’d been planning to come here for a long time now and pretty much forced me to come" you explained.
“Ah” he nodded along.
"She said, and I quote,” you pulled out your hands from your pockets to make air quotes “'it’s better for me to come along than to rot in bed throughout my entire break’".
Lewis chuckled at the sentence. “Well, how’s your experience of being here so far?” he asked.
“Hmm, well it has been pretty good” you pouted. “Plus, it’s nice here,” you lifted a shoulder.
Lewis smiled as he nodded along, "Yeah it really is nice here".
“Not too loud, not too quiet” he tilted his head.
“Exactly” you pointed a finger.
After walking for a while, he turned his head towards you. "Where’d you wanna go today? Is there anything specific you had in mind?" he asked.
You looked at him, lips parted in surprise. "Oh"
"Uh” you fixed your gaze sideways. “Oh yeah" you remembered.
“I actually wanted to visit a couple bookstores but justy hadn't gotten around to it yet" you confessed.
"Oh that's perfect!" he flashed a bright smile. "We can…” he waved a hand. “Go right now if you want?" he leaned his head towards you, a smile on his face.
"Really?" your eyes widened at his response. "like you'd want to go?"
"I mean, it's completely alright if you wanna do something else or just like-go someplace else" you quickly added.
"No no, " He explained. "I'd love to go, really" he smiled as he nodded.
"Oh" you parted your lips. "Yay" a small grin escaped your lips.
***
You walked through the quiet streets, talking to Lewis Pullman of all people . And much to your surprise, he genuinely seemed to be interested in whatever you had to say.
"What do you do during breaks? " he asked as the two of you strode forward. “Like whenever you're not working".
“Hmm?” you furrowed your brows in question. “Oh well like my friend stated, I pretty much rot in bed all day" you pursed your lips.
A small laugh escaped his lips.
"And on days I have like, a sudden burst of energy and motivation" you continued. "I try to learn a song on the piano or sing something," you explained. "Or like, write probably” you lifted a shoulder.
He stopped walking and turned to you with a wide-eyed gaze, “You play piano and write?" he exclaimed. "That's really unexpected".
You stopped,a pout formed on your lips,, "Why's that surprising?" you cocked your head to a side.
His expression quickly turned terfied, stopping "Oh no no I mean as in- cuz I haven't really" he waved his arms frantically as ye attempted to explain. "It's just cuz I haven’t really heard you mention that anywhere before and so" he attempted to explain. "It's- it’s not like I don't think you can do it " he stammered.
"Oh it's alright I get what you were trying to say" you nodded reasurringly.
"And don’t worry I'm not offended" you let out a chuckle.
"Oh, that's -that's a relief" he breathed.
His lips formed a smile as his gaze met yours.
You returned his expression.
"What do you play?" he asked as you continued walking.
"I used to learn classical pieces back when I started," you began.
"But now I just play the songs I like or I try to compose stuff" you gave a tilt of your head.
"Oh wow” he parted his lips, as he nodded along.
"Do you play anything else?" he asked.
"It's piano mostly" you waved a hand. "But I can play pretty much anything that involves keys" you lifted a shoulder. "though I'll try to learn something else when I have the time for it".
"You play the drums, right?” you pointed a finger at him.
He blinked rapidly, "Yeah" he slowly nodded. "How'd you know?" he asked.
"Oh I’ve heard you play, you know for your band" you smiled.
He parted his lips and looked back at you with a wide-eyed gaze, "You know my band?" he asked.
"Yeah of course" you chuckled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I love your band and the style of music you guys make" your smile was wide now, as if it was no longer restrained, no longer calculated.
"Oh I-" he pursed his lips briefly. "Thank you," he beamed.
“You mentioned you write?” he leaned towards you.
”Yeah” you agreed.
”What do you write?” he asked.
“Anything that comes to mind really,” you shrugged. “Poems, short stories..” you cocked your head as you counted on your fingers.
“I’ve recently started writing screenplays too”.
“Wow” Lewis raised his eyebrows. “You're really talented " he began grinning.
You pursed your lips briefly, "Thanks" your lips formed a smile as you tucked your hair behind your ear.
You spent the whole of your afternoon walking through the streets of Milan. You’d visited bookstores, a quiet cafe, and had even gone to a nearby lake.
This was not how you'd expected your day to turn out in the slightest.
He listened to every word you spoke with deep interest, as if the words you spoke were lines from a holy scripture, as if they were a melody he'd only just heard, but had quickly begun to love.
He looked into your eyes as if he was observing them, taking in every little detail that your irises withheld, as if he wanted to preserve the memory of them, as if he was too afraid to forget even the tiniest detail.
By the time the sun had begun to set, you both decided it was time to part ways, though you didn't quite wish to.
"Oh where are you staying by the way?" Lewis asked you, before you both got up from the bench.
You explained the address of the hotel.
"What about you?" you asked.
He gave you the details of his whereabouts. “It’s actually pretty close to where you are,” he added.
"Woah so we could just walk to each other’s hotels anytime” you chuckled, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. .
"Maybe you'd like to meet up another day?" he suggested. "Before you leave" he asked, hesitation lingering in his voice.
You looked at him for a moment, the anticipation in his perfect blue irises, something inside you made you be certain of your response, "Yeah of course" you smiled. "I'd love to," you nodded.
"Perfect" he beamed at your response. “Do you want to…” he waved a hand. “Exchange numbers maybe?” he asked.
“Oh okay yeah” you nodded. “Sure” you offered a smile.
“Thanks” he ran a hand through his hair.
“Would it be okay if” he raised a shoulder. “I walk you back to your hotel?” he asked.
You blinked, slightly taken aback by his offer. But you quickly nodded, “I-oh thank you sure of course" you rambled.
That was the day you'd first met Lewis Pullman, but it wouldn't be the last.
You'd felt a pull towards him, a strange feeling in your heart, one that you hadn't stopped feeling since.
Your heart still speeds up the same way whenever you meet his gaze, your breath still catches halfway when he says your name in his honey-coated voice.
You still love him as much as you had, the very first day you met. Despite not even knowing who he was at first.
***
"You know if you come to think of it" Lewis points a finger at you as he rests his legs on the coffee table.
You turn to him, attention still halfway on the movie. "Hmm?"
"If it hadn't been for y/f/n, we wouldn’t be here right now,” He points out.
You furrow your brows in confusion, unable to comprehend his words.
Your gaze softens as you realize what he meant. “Yeahhhhh” you stretched out the word, nodding slowly.
Can I request a Bob Floyd fanfic with the prompt: “everyone else might be buying it, but i’m not. what’s wrong?"
Reader is having a bad day but she tries to act like everything is fine around the others but Bob notice and wants to be there for reader.
Thank you in advance
“everyone else might be buying it, but i’m not. what’s wrong?”
a/n: heyy!! thanks so much for sending this in! i looooove this with him. he’s so comforting <3
word count: 1.8k
warnings: reader having a bad day, descriptions of feeling bad
500 followers celebration
lewis masterlist
your hands strain against the cold tile often he bathroom sink. deep breath in through your nose and a long exhale from your mouth, a breathing exercise you were taught but you doubt it helps at all. not with the way you're feeling right now, anyway.
none the less, you breathe deep again. you turn the faucet on and place a hand under the cold water, letting it run over your hot hand hoping for a bit of relief. you grab a paper towel and wet it and lay it on the back of your neck. your body temperature decreases and you don't feel so pent up.
"okay," you whisper to yourself, "everything's okay, you're okay,"
you throw the paper towel away and stay your hands on a new one, tossing that one too. you open the door and step out into the big atrium. people litter the space, making small talk and shaking hands.
nothing special happening just a regular morning, but it didn't make the deep weight on your chest lift any.
"mornin sunshine," hangman greets you as he walks through the front doors, late as always, “how are you doin this rainy morning?”
"hangman. fine," you push a smile across your face, "you ever gonna be on time?"
he shrugs and lifts his coffee cup, "better to have this in me and late than early and irradiated,"
"guess we'll take it," you force a small laugh and follow him through the hallways silently.
the conference room was full of the daggers, everyone surrounding the table with either sleepy eyes or wide awake ones. mav stands at the front, swiping through some papers getting ready for the debrief.
phoenix pulls out the chair next to her and you slide onto it and sit back with crossed arms. there was small chatter happening all around and your eyes scan the table. packets set out and your eyes move up to everyone. bob makes you stop your scanning, settling on him for a moment.
he gives you a smile, but his brows are furrowed. his eyes squint at you like he's studying you, trying to look into you. you pull away turning to phoenix.
"you ready for today?" she asks with her head back against the chair, her own arms crossed at her chest and lazy smile.
"guess so, don't really have choice do we?" you give her the same force laughter you gave to hangman and it works. she takes it.
“you alright? still good for everyone coming over tonight?” she asks with furrowed brows and questioning expression.
you didn’t want to lie, especially not to her but you didn’t want to have a whole talk right now. so you give a tight lipped smile and nod and gave her much reassurance.
mav clears his throat and begins the meeting. his voice drones on in your ears, your mind retaining barley anything. it was hard to focus when you felt like this. an emptiness that could never really be filled, just waiting for the feeling to slip away.
when lunch finally came around the feeling was still sitting deep in your bones, you could feel the weight of it pulling you down.
“hello sunshine!” roosters voice finally drew you out of your blank stare at the table, your food untouched, “you doin okay over there,”
you push a smile and sit up, “yeah, yeah. just tired is all, weather isn’t helping either,”
“it is nasty out there, doubt we’ll go up,” his voice trailed off in your ears, turning into mumbling. you eyes lock back on your food, hands pulling at a thread on the side of your pants.
something taps your foot, you look down and see the WSOs shoe next to yours. you look up at the man across from you. his eyes are soft, they always are, and his eyebrows are in the same position they were this morning. a questioning expression on his face, asking the question you’ve been avoiding from him.
you push back from the table and stand, grabbing your lunch and throwing it away as you go back to the bathroom. it was a rough day, and it didn’t seem like it was going to give any time soon.
when you were finally able to get back home to your shared apartment with phoenix, you fell onto the couch with a quiet groan.
“everyone will be here in ten, so look alive,”
“we spent all day with them, like we always do.” you whine. the headache behind your eye was pushing harder against your skull and you didn’t know if you could handle another how ever many hours of the squad.
there was a knock at the door and you slipped away to your room for just a little bit more alone time before putting on another fake smile.
you almost felt guilty. you’d prayed for days and nights like these, working with friends and then having fun nights with them. and now here you were wanting to do nothing but lay in bed with noise canceling headphones.
tears began to fill your eyes as the overwhelming feeling in chest rose. your mind spinning as you tried to push the feeling away but it was no use. you couldn’t stop the immense feeling of needing to screaming.
a knock sounded at your door now. you swallowed your tears and fears, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath.
“give me a second!” you shout but the person knocks again, “i said give-“ you open the door, expect phoenix to be the one on the other side about to beg you to come out but she isn’t there.
bob stands in a white t shirt and grey sweatpants, tube socks covering his feet from the cold floor. one hand in his pocket and the other leaning on your door frame.
you hide your face from him, “bob, i’ll uh ill be out in a second just…” your voice trailed off.
he pushes through your door gently, guiding you back and closing the door.
“are you okay?” he asks in such a gentle voice it almost breaks you.
you look up at him, another forced smile, “i’m fine, we can go,”
you start to walk around him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back kindly. you turn back to him, your smile beginning to waver.
“everyone else might be buying it, but i’m not. what’s wrong?” his voice is firm, he’s not one to back down. he wasn’t leaving until he knew what was wrong and how he could fix it.
“nothing,” you close your eyes and scratch your forehead, “bob, i’m fine. i just… it’s been a long day,”
his hand squeezes yours, your name coming from his name so softly when you hear it your hard exterior breaks. the weight of the day and your mind and the emptiness falls out. it pours from your eyes and a loud sighs breaks from your vocal cords.
“i’ve just had a really bad day,” you breathe out through tears.
bob pulls your hand again, bringing you to his chest. his arms around your shoulders, caging you into his space and letting you release everything that been pent up throughout the day.
your arms hug his torso, holding onto him so tightly like someone was about to rip you off of him. your hands fisted his t shirt as a small sob escaped your lips.
one of his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, “what can i do?”
“this,” you tell him in the most genuine tone. being held by him, the feeling a safety he gave you on the moment was almost curing the feeling.
“i feel awful. i don’t even know why,” you try to explain, “the whole day has just been me staring and not being able to focus. i couldn’t do anything but stare today. nothing was happening in head, nothing. i wanted to talk, i wanted to talk at lunch with everyone about what new show they were all watching, i wanted to talk about what we’re doing tonight. i want to go out there and be with everyone but i just…” you sigh, “i cant.”
“it’s okay,” he coos.
“i feel so utterly bad. i have no desire to interact with anyone. this is all ive ever wanted and yet here i am, crying about an overwhelming feeling that i can’t get rid off,”
“no one’s asking you to put on a smile,” he tells you, a soft kiss to your head, “you don’t want to go out there? don’t. they’ll understand. you’re allowed to not want to do something. you’re allowed to want to be alone. none of this…” he pulls back and lifts your head to look at him, “none of us are going to disappear. we’ll be tomorrow and the next day.”
“and the day after that?”
he smiles with a light laugh, “and the day after that,” he assures you.
you lay your forehead against his shoulder, “you always know what to say,”
“you’re not the only eh feels like this. you’re not alone,” his voice finally being the one to penetrate through the feeling and not be mumbles.
“thank you,”
he nudges his shoulder, you take the hint and lift your head. his hand cusp your jaw, his thumb brushing the skin of your cheek, his eyes looking deep into yours, “i’m always here. i’ll never leave you, hear me?”
you hand grasps his wrist, yours staying on his, waiting for his next move. his head leans down, yours rises-
a knock sounds on your door again, “everything okay?” phoenix’s sounds through the door. you hang your head and for the first time today a genuine, real smile spreads on your face.
“yeah! i’ll be out in a second,” bob shouts and you can hear her footsteps retreat.
he looks down at you, “get shower and rest,”
“no, i can go-“
your name comes out as a plead, “rest, i can entrain em i promise,”
“thank you,” you hug him again, and when you pull back you rise and kiss his cheek.
he walks to the door, heat rises up his neck and his ears hot. his cheeks growing into a shade of pink. he opens the door and steps out.
“she’s getting some sleep, let her be,” he looks back to you, sending you a wink before closing the door.
you do as he told you. a hot shower, loose pajamas, and your bed. you sink into your mattress and fall asleep with a small smile.
a/n: hey! thanks for reading <3. wanted to remind you it’s okay to rest. you deserve to rest. yes you do. treat yourself, take care of yourself. you. deserve. it.
