#drunksex

“Hey, pretty girl. ’Bout time you showed up.”

You turned, and there he was. Rhett. His shadow swallowed you whole — broad, familiar. His gaze, that stormy blue-grey, swept over you from head to toe, lingering at the neckline of your dress, then on the curve of your mouth. A slow, genuine smile curved his lips when he caught your expression — a little shy, a little breathless beneath his stare.

“Oh, look at you,” he murmured, voice rough. “You’re gorgeous.” And you knew he meant it. He always did.

“Hi, cowboy. You drunk enough yet?” you managed to tease, glancing at the half-empty beer bottle in his large, calloused hand — pretending his words didn’t hit you as hard as they did.

He ignored the jab. His smile faded a fraction, jaw tightening for a second. His arm around your waist pulled you half an inch closer.

“I mean it, beutiful,” he said quietly. “That idiot doesn’t know what he lost.” There was something buried in his tone — low, controlled, and dangerous — a quiet promise that wasn’t meant for you, but for Matthew’s ghost. You’d heard that voice before; it was the same one he used when someone tried to mess with you — soft-spoken.

You smiled faintly, because you knew. Every word Rhett ever said to you was the truth. He was always there — to remind you how beautiful you were, how clever, how good at keeping the books for his family’s ranch. To tell you, with a conviction that stole your breath, that you were the best girl he knew.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl in this whole damn bar right in front of me,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “And I’m lucky she’s my best friend.”

Those last words cut clean — a precise little wound that made you flinch inside. Best friend. That’s all you were to him. A safe, fixed place in his world — unshakable, untouchable.

After that, your memories blur — soaked in golden light and the haze of whiskey. You remember dancing with him, one song after another, your bodies moving with the kind of rhythm that only years of closeness could teach. You remember stumbling a few times, your heels and the liquor conspiring against you, and his big, warm hands gripping your waist to keep you steady. He was so close that the fringe of his brown hair brushed your forehead sometimes. His chest — broad and solid — was a wall you could lean on. His laugh, low and rumbling, echoed near your ear, a sound that warmed you from the inside more than any drink could.

The rest of the world fell away until there was nothing left — just the music, the smell of leather and wood, the heat of Rhett’s hands on your skin.

The ride in his truck is a blank in your memory, only the warmth of his thigh against yours on the seat. Then, the creaking door of his house, the familiar darkness of his living room, and suddenly, against the wall of the hallway, his lips finding yours in a clash of flavors of whiskey and repressed desire. It wasn't a kiss, it was possession. Rough, wet, desperate. His teeth collided with yours, his tongue claiming your mouth as his hands roamed your back, sliding down to your buttocks and pressing you against the hard evidence of his desire.

“Rhett…” you gasped, but his name turned into a moan when his lips moved to your neck, nibbling urgently at your skin. There was no clear path to the bedroom, just a whirlwind of clumsy steps and yielding clothing. A tug, the sound of a zipper, and the tearing whisper of your dress as it was thrown into a corner. You fell onto his bed, his weight on top of you, pinning you down.

Drunkenness and lust merged, making everything more intense, uninhibited, more raw… His hands, rough and calloused from working on the ranch, ran down your thighs with fierce determination, opening them… A guttural growl, “Damn, baby, you're so wet…” came out of his mouth against your ear, his fingers finding that sensitive, throbbing nerve center inside you, rubbing with expert pressure that made you scream and writhe against the sheets. The palm of your hand pressed against his sweaty chest, feeling the frantic pounding of his heart beneath your skin.

Without preamble, he positioned you on your hands and knees. The initial thrust was a sharp blow that made you hold your breath, a sharp pain that instantly melted into a wave of pleasure so deep and dirty that it left you breathless. “You like that? You like that, don't you, baby?” he growled, each word a lash in the heavy air, as his hips slammed into yours with a brutal, rapid rhythm.

He turned you without pulling out, your sweaty back against the soft sheets beneath you as he moved with a raw power that swept you along; you responded with surrender, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hips rising to meet him with every thrust. The sharp, brief pain of his entry instantly transformed into a pleasure that made you arch your back.

Your moans turned into long, ragged whimpers that he silenced with a rough hand over your mouth. “Shh. Shh. Shut up, baby… or the whole ranch will know how I'm fucking you.” His lips on the back of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly, marking you, possessing you. You responded with wild abandon, arching your back to take him deeper, your nails digging into his thighs, encouraging him with grunts you didn't recognize as your own. “Yes… there, Rhett, please…” The wet, obscene sound of your bodies together mingled with the creaking of the bed and your gasps.

The orgasm came like an explosion. A hoarse moan, torn from the depths of his chest. “Oh baby… Ohhh yes… Shit, I'm going to…!” His body tensed like a bow over yours, and it was the last spark that made you explode. A convulsion of pure, blinding pleasure that shook you to tears, drowning your own cry in the hollow of his shoulder.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the harsh sound of his lungs gasping for air. His weight collapsed on top of you, sweaty and exhausted. And in that rawness and stillness, with the smell of sex and whiskey permeating the air, the taste of him still on your lips and the echo of his grunts in your ears, you slowly closed your eyes.

...

You stirred in bed, and in your sleep, a heaviness anchored you. It wasn't a dream. It was an arm, muscular and covered with fine hair, firmly surrounding you, and your back was pressed against a broad, warm chest that rose and fell with slow breathing.

You opened your eyes immediately. The blinding morning light, filtering mercilessly through the curtainless window, made you close them instantly. A groan of pain escaped your lips as you felt sharp, drill-like pains in your temples. You tried again, blinking against the glare, forcing your eyes to focus.

The first thing you noticed was the wall of dark wooden logs in front of you. It wasn't the white plaster of your bedroom. And hanging from a nail was a perfectly coiled riding rope. This wasn't your bedroom. Your heart froze.

Oh, God… no… no, this isn't happening, you thought, a cold panic spreading through your chest. Last night was just a dream… a drunken, hot dream. It couldn't have happened.

These were the desperate thoughts running through your mind as you carefully tried to sit up in bed. That's when you realized you were covered only by a crumpled sheet, and the bare skin brushing against the rough fabric confirmed your worst fear. Your movements caused Rhett to growl behind you, a deep, sleepy sound. You held your breath, managed to slide his arm off you, and, hoping with all your might that he would continue sleeping, you sat up awkwardly.

You pulled the sheet with you, wrapping yourself in it like armor as the pain throbbed in your head. You sat on the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, but a different, deep, revealing twinge stopped you in your tracks. A dull, persistent pain in your crotch, a muscular, internal reminder of the intensity with which he had moved inside you. You let out a muffled gasp as you felt it.

With determination born of panic, you searched for your clothes scattered around the room. You found your black panties in a corner of the bed, tangled in the sheet. As you pulled them up your thighs, you noticed with a chill the wet, sticky feeling, the whitish liquid oozing from inside you, raw physical proof of what had happened. You continued awkwardly, searching for your damn bra. You spotted it on the other side of the bed, right in the corner where Rhett was still lying, now on his back.

With your heart in your throat, you leaned forward carefully, stretching out your arm to reach it, trying to keep the sheet over your chest. In that instant, a quick movement and a shadow under the edge of the bed made you jump. A huge, hairy spider scuttled toward the darkness beneath the bed. A small scream escaped your lips before you could stop it.

It was the sound Rhett had been waiting for. He hadn’t been deeply asleep, just pretending, watching you from beneath his lashes as you moved with that adorably guilty clumsiness. Hearing your scream, he opened his eyes fully.

And the first thing he saw, just inches from his face, were your breasts — bare and trembling, the sheet having slipped loose with your sudden movement. His blue eyes, now clear and filled with mischievous playfulness, scanned you from head to toe before settling on them. He couldn’t help himself. A slow, teasing smile curved across his lips.

“This is one hell of a view to wake up to,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep but heavy with suggestion. “Much better than that damn sun in my face in the mornings.”

You looked at him, surprised, quickly shifting to a mix of annoyance and burning embarrassment at his words. You tried to cover your tits with the bra you were now clutching against your chest — a futile, ridiculous gesture considering how he had kneaded, licked, sucked, and bitten them the night before. But you didn’t care. You refused to let him see you like this, sober.

“That’s not funny, Rhett,” you said, your voice trembling from the hangover and nerves. “What the hell is under your bed?”

“I don’t know what’s under my bed, pretty girl,” he said, his voice husky and sleepy, his half-lidded eyes fixed on you. A mischievous, knowing smile played at his lips.

“Funny… you’ve got a damn giant spider, Rhett,” you grumbled clumsily, trying to get the garment on. Your fingers seemed to have forgotten their function, tangling in the hooks and straps. “This… this shouldn’t have happened.”

Rhett didn’t flinch. Instead, he propped himself on one elbow, making the muscles in his arm and torso tense under his golden skin. The sheet slipped down to his waist, revealing his bare chest and the red scratches your nails had left on his ribs last night, making you swallow hard.

“Looks like it did,” he observed, his voice low but clear, cutting through your denial. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your hands, struggling clumsily with the bra clasp. “And from what I can see… it was incredible.”

A hot blush spread from your neck to your cheeks. “It was a mistake,” you insisted, finally getting the clasp to click into place, albeit crookedly. “We were drunk. We didn’t think.”

Suddenly, his expression changes when he hears your words. The mocking smile vanished completely, replaced by a shadow of concern. With a sigh, he rose from the bed in one fluid motion.

The sheet fell from his torso, and before you could help it, your gaze, completely treacherous, drifted toward his crotch. His cock, pink, thick, long and flaccid, swayed with the movement. Oh, fuck… you thought, losing yourself for a moment at the sight, a new flush of heat and embarrassment flooding you. How could that have been inside you? It was noticeably larger than average. Now you understood with chilling clarity the reason for that deep, persistent pain you felt inside.

“Hey, beautiful? Can you hear me?”

His voice pulled you out of your daze. You looked up quickly, meeting his eyes. He hadn’t missed your furtive glance, and a small, proud smile played at his lips as he saw the fire in your cheeks. But the smile didn’t last. Seeing the confusion and panic in your eyes, his expression softened again.

He ran a hand through his hair — an unusual gesture of nervousness for him. “I was saying that… it’s okay,” he began, his voice huskier than usual, struggling to find the words. “Yeah, nothing has to change between us. Yeah, this… this isn’t… this doesn’t have to change anything. Between us.”

He paused, his blue eyes now serious, searching yours with an intensity that stopped you in your tracks. “I like you a lot. You’re my best friend.” He said it with a clumsiness that felt foreign to him, every word heavy with a fear he didn’t know he could feel — the fear of losing you.

“This is just…” he continued, making a vague gesture between you, “two friends helping each other out.”

You listened to his words attentively, feeling each one settle in a different place in your chest. “Sure,” you said, trying to convince yourself. You swallowed nervously, the knot in your throat tightening. You nodded, repeating the words to yourself. “Just two friends… two friends helping each other out…”

What you didn’t expect, after that first night, was for it to happen again. And then again. And again.

It wasn’t planned. You just kept finding each other, like you always did, until the line you both tried to draw blurred completely out of existence.

It was about a week later. He invited you over to his cabin under the excuse of helping him sort out some ranch paperwork. The same as always—beer, soft country music playing in the background. You were sitting side by side on the couch, papers in your hands, laughing over some silly story.

His hand brushed your thigh as he reached for his bottle. Just a casual touch. But this time, he didn’t pull away. The air thickened. The laughter died on your lips. He looked at you. No words were spoken. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him. The papers fell to the floor, forgotten, as his mouth found yours with a hunger he no longer tried to hide.

A few days later, you met again in the barn at sunset, after a long, exhausting day. The air was heavy with the scent of hay and wildflowers. He leaned against the door, smiling, asking about your day. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and told him about your frustration with a stubborn mare. He laughed—that deep, rich sound that always sent a shiver down your spine—and stepped forward to hug you, the kind of hug you’d shared a thousand times before.

But this time, when his arms wrapped around you, something shifted. His breathing hitched. You buried your face against his neck, breathing in the mix of leather and him. The hug lingered, grew tighter, more aware. Then his hands slipped from your back to your hips, pulling you against the hardness already straining beneath his jeans. A soft moan escaped your lips, and that was all it took. He turned you and pressed you against the rough wooden wall of the barn. No words, just gasps, the creak of the wood, and two bodies moving together with desperate, reckless familiarity.

The next time was in your kitchen, after a quiet Friday dinner. You’d talked about everything except that. Your parents, work, his upcoming bull-riding competition. He was washing the dishes, and you were drying. The air felt calm, harmless—until your fingers brushed when passing him a plate. A spark. You froze, staring at your hands, then at him. His teasing smile was gone, replaced by a question and a want so raw it stole your breath.

He dropped the plate into the sink with a clatter that sounded like an ending. Without a word, he grabbed your waist and lifted you onto the counter, sweeping utensils aside with one arm. His mouth found yours slowly, achingly slow, savoring every second. And when your legs wrapped around his hips, you knew—this wasn’t an accident anymore. It had become a quiet, unstoppable need.

It was after the fourth time, when the morning light found you tangled together again, that everything shifted — the air between you heavy with a seriousness that stole your breath. There was no trace of his usual playfulness, no hint of that teasing smile he always wore.

“Hey, beautiful, we need to talk about this,” he started, his voice soft but steady, respectful. “This… whatever’s happening between us. It’s becoming… frequent.”

You froze, waiting for the blow, the retreat.

“Look,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to screw that up. I don’t want this to ruin what we have.”

He paused, searching for the right words. “But I also can’t pretend it’s not happening. It’s there — undeniable. And it’s… incredible.” His gaze was honest, a little vulnerable. “So here’s what I’m thinking. A mutual agreement. Just sex. Nothing more. We stay the same — you and me, like always. This is just… another thing we do together. Something to release some tension… between friends who like and respect each other. No complications.”

His words caught you off guard. A part of you — the one already tangled in something deeper, something messy — wanted to refuse, to scream that it was a disaster waiting to happen. But the other part, the one burning for him, craving his touch and his taste, took over. You thought, with desperate logic, that maybe this was the solution. Maybe if you slept with Rhett enough times, you could burn him out of your system — exhaust that confusing desire until all that remained was friendship again. It was a terrible idea, but in that moment, it felt brilliant.

“Alright,” you said, your voice sounding steadier than you felt. “But if we do this, we need rules. To protect… our friendship.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes studying your face. “Go on, beautiful.”

“First,” you began, holding up a finger, “none of this in public. No touching, no looks, no hints. Outside this room, we’re just friends.”

“Done,” he agreed instantly.

“Second,” you continued, feeling your heart race. “Movie nights, dinners, our usual hangouts… they stay the same. Normal. This doesn’t turn into dates. This isn’t a relationship.”

A shadow flickered in his expression — so quick you almost missed it — but he nodded again. “Just friends… helping each other out.”

“And third,” you added, firmer now, meeting his gaze head-on. “If either of us starts seeing someone else, this ends. Immediately. No questions.”

Rhett was silent for a moment, chewing on that last rule. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Fair. That’s the smart thing to do.”

...

You’re completely fucked. Metaphorically… and literally. Right now, wrapped in Rhett’s arms, your hands tangled in his damp chestnut curls, your legs clamped tight around his waist. He moves inside you with such precision. His large, calloused hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place while his hips drive relentlessly, finding that deep spot inside you that makes the world explode into white behind your eyelids.

Every thrust shatters your reason. An electric euphoria shoots through every nerve, mixed with a bittersweet ache because you know this, by definition, is temporary—a pleasure laced with the bitter seed of its own end. Your body arches toward him, craving more of that fire that, deep down, you know will burn you.

Maybe you deserve it, if you really think about it. Maybe this is what you get for agreeing to this arrangement in the first place. For believing you could have the pieces of him you wanted without giving your heart in return. For thinking that by fucking enough, you could get him out of your system, when every time you come together like this, he digs himself even deeper into you.

And then, just as a hot tear slips from your eye and lands on the pillow, his ice-blue eyes find yours. Everything stops for a heartbeat. It’s more than just this. An intense, deep… vulnerable look. One that pierces you and seems to see everything you carry inside. And for a crazy, intoxicating, dangerous second, you think maybe it could really mean something more. As if there’s something there for him too—some feeling that goes beyond the purely physical arrangement you’d made. Even with your bodies entwined, he’s wrestling with the same line you are, afraid to cross it but aching for what lies on the other side.

...

The roar of the crowd thunders in your ears like a drum, but your attention is fixed on the gate to the bullpen. There’s Rhett, adjusting his glove, his silhouette tense as a drawn bow. He’s worked so hard for this that you can’t help your mind carrying you back to this morning.

The morning light had filtered through the window of his cabin, illuminating motes of dust dancing over their sweaty, intertwined bodies. Their breaths ragged, their hearts hammering in unison. A silly, satisfied, drowsy smile played on your lips as you traced lazy circles across his back.

He’d been nervous since yesterday, an electric, restrained energy vibrating through every movement. You had tried, in vain, to wear down that desire, to tire yourself of it, proposing the simplest and most delicious solution: fucking him against the mattress until he was spent and satisfied. “You’re still nervous,” you murmured, feeling the tension in his back muscles beneath your fingers.

Rhett turned his head to you, a tired but genuine smile on his face, his blue eyes softened. “Less than yesterday,” he admitted, his voice hoarse and rough from the morning and effort. His hand found yours beneath the sheets, fingers intertwining with that natural ease that still shook you. “You have a very persuasive way of distracting me.” He winked, and a small, warm laugh escaped your lips, as if the entire world had shrunk to that shared bed, to him alone.

The memory fades as Cecilia, his mother, nudges you gently. “There’s my boy,” she says proudly, pointing down. Royal is with him, giving some last words, and you, from the stands, watch with the certainty of knowing every microexpression on his face—elated, anxious, tense. He tries to hide it from everyone else, but not from you.

As if he could feel your gaze, his head turns, and his eyes find yours in the crowd. That playful, intimate, knowing smile spreads across his lips, identical to the one he gave you just an hour ago in the secluded bathrooms.

“Come here, beautiful. I need you.” His hoarse voice reaches you as you step away, and his strong arms trap you against the deserted hallway wall. “Rhett, no… we can’t,” you try to protest, placing your hands on his chest to keep distance, though you don’t really want to. “Not in public.”

His blue eyes, pleading, with that battered puppy expression, melt you entirely. “Just a minute,” he insists. You give in, as always, and move closer.

“You know, I need my lucky kisses right now,” he says, playful but with a firmness that betrays his nervousness. His lips find yours in a deep, hungry kiss that robs you of breath and reason. Your hands clutch his shoulders to keep from falling, losing yourself in the taste of mint and him. When he finally pulls back, your heart races, your breath ragged.

“You’re… impossible,” you manage to say, breathless, brushing your lips against his.

Rhett lets out a low, satisfied growl. “A hug would’ve been enough for luck,” he whispers, “but I’m addicted to your lips and your pretty, big mouth, beautiful.” He says it with a mischievous confidence, and you can only laugh, giving him a gentle push that doesn’t move him an inch.

Now, from the stands, that same wink reaches you across the distance, shattering your composure. Damn it, you can't resist the knot of butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. You know, with terrifying certainty, that you're not getting tired of him. You're sinking deeper and deeper into him.

...

The bull is a massive, enraged beast, a whirlwind of muscle and fury that bursts out of the chute like lightning. And on top of it, Rhett. Your heart tightens and then leaps, a pendulum swinging between fear and pride. You love watching him ride, the way he fuses with the animal, a brutal dance of wills. But always, always, that lurking fear remains—the image of something going wrong and him getting hurt.

The giant clock marks the seconds. Eight agonizing seconds that feel like an eternity. The bull twists, bucks, trying with all its might to throw off the weight on its back. Rhett holds firm, his free arm swinging in the air like a pendulum to keep his balance. And then, on the ninth second, a sudden movement, and Rhett is thrown through the air, landing in the dust of the arena with a dull thud that echoes across the place.

A scream catches in your throat. But almost immediately, he gets up, brushing the dust off his shoulders with a sharp shake. The attendants rush toward him, but his attention isn’t on them—it’s on the scoreboard.

89.5 points.

The announcer shouts the score and his ranking: FIRST PLACE! The arena erupts. The crowd goes wild, cheering his name. “Rhett! Rhett!” He raises his arms, a gesture of pure triumph, his face lit with a dazzling smile. Then his gaze sweeps the crowd and locks onto you. He smiles—a victorious, private smile, meant only for your eyes.

You are so proud and overjoyed that he did it. You stand, determined to go down and congratulate him. He follows you with his eyes, his smile still in place. But just as you take a few steps, you see her. A girl with long, wavy hair and pronounced curves makes her way through the crowd and launches herself at Rhett, hugging him with an exuberance that goes far beyond casual. He looks surprised but doesn’t push her away. Why would he? It’s Maria. Rhett’s ex. The love of his life.

“Look who’s back in town,” Cecilia’s voice says beside you, sounding distant. “Seems like the big city didn’t agree with her.” Her words are just a buzz in your ears. Your entire world shrinks down to the image of Maria practically draped over Rhett—and he… he isn’t pushing her away. But why would he? Maria has always been the love of his life. It doesn’t matter that she left town and broke things off, leaving him behind. No, it doesn’t matter that you were the one there for him when his heart was broken. Now, when he has the love of his life right in his arms, nothing else matters.

Cecilia keeps talking, but you just nod, excusing yourself while trying not to let her notice how your voice is trembling, trying to hide that you are falling apart inside. You can’t stay there. You know it. You are foolish. You rush down from the stands toward the parking lot, your steps quick and clumsy, feeling yourself crumble from within.

You go down so fast that you don’t notice Rhett’s confused gaze following you as you flee. You are so close to your car that the click of the lock as you press the button echoes in the lot. You open the door, but an agitated voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, beautiful, where are you going?” It’s Rhett. He’s panting, having run after you. You don’t turn around. You can’t.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his voice heavy with concern.

The moment you hear that word, tears fill your eyes because it always has this effect on you—every time it slips from his lips, it’s the same one he uses when you’re tangled together in bed, breathless and sweaty; the one he says when he showers you with tender kisses, when he leaves his seed on your skin or inside you, with his soft hands and tender gaze… That word starts to burn inside you because it means far more to you than it could ever mean to him.

His concern means nothing, you tell yourself. They’re just friends. Just friends. Oh, how you hate that word. How can it be enough to be “just friends” with Rhett when you love him so much that you can no longer lie to yourself?

“It’s nothing, Rhett,” you say, without turning, your voice a fragile thread.

“Nothing, my ass.” He steps closer and gently turns you to face him. His eyes search yours. “Baby, please, talk to me.”

Something in the urgency of his voice, in the intensity of his bright blue eyes, finally breaks you.

“What, what is this, Rhett?” Your voice trembles and falters, on the verge of tears.

“What—?” he starts, but you cut him off.

“No, seriously, Rhett, what is this? What are we doing? Why do you keep doing this too? Why do we keep doing this?”

“I’m not—” he begins, but you interrupt again.

“Look, I know. I know what we agreed on at first. I know this… we’re just friends, right? Friends,” your tone turns bitter, and you let out a dark laugh. “Friends helping each other… well, we’ve helped each other a lot, haven’t we?” Another bitter laugh shakes your head. The words come now in an unstoppable torrent. “Look, Rhett, I get it. I really get it. This is just… it doesn’t even mean anything, does it? At least not to you… I get it, and I wish I hadn’t, but I get it… The sex is amazing, right? We fit so well, but that’s it. And it was fine… it was fine at first, but not anymore, Rhett. I can’t do this anymore.”

He watches you, his eyes flicking rapidly, processing your words, the pain etched across your face.

“We’ve fucked this up, Rhett,” you pause, bitter. “Fucked it up so badly.”

“What are you saying, beautiful? Fucked up?” he asks, confused, trying to process your pain.

“It’s everything, Rhett.” You shake your head in anger at yourself—how could you have been so foolish not to see that this is how it will always end, with your heart shattered, because you were naive enough to believe Rhett could feel the same way you do.

“It… is it… because of Maria?” he asks, still confused, trying to understand. Hearing her name on his lips, you spit: “Wow, genius, you figured it out.”

He interrupts. “She just wanted to congratulate me for winning. She came out of nowhere, and I didn’t… I didn’t—”

“You didn’t push her away,” you cut him off, continuing with a venom that surprises even you. “No, why would you when you still love her?”

His eyes widen at your words. “You’re… jealous?… Jealous of her?” There’s disbelief in his voice, as if he can’t believe it.

Your heart hurts, and you blink furiously, though you don’t want to cry—not yet, not in front of him. Soon enough, once he finally breaks your heart for good, you’ll collapse and cry.

“I love you, you stupid idiot.” Your voice cracks, trembling as you look at him through tears not yet fallen. “I love you so much it hurts.”

He freezes. His blue eyes widen, stunned by your confession. Time seems to stop around you both.

“It’s over, Rhett.”

••••───────────────────────────••••

”hey y/n ,” He muttered. Your eyes were trained directly at his board  chest as you tried to think of a way to steady your breathing. You could feel the apples of your cheeks starting to prickle in heat. This was not something you had expected to occur for the two of them. Your vision still felt slightly doubled and blurred .

You remembered you had yet again had to separate Bob and Buddy from each other as another heated argument occurred.

-30 mins ago-

"Look Buddy ," "Bud, I've said this thousands times Old man call me Bud." Buddy had countered. He stood before the older super his arms crossed tightly across his chest. A frown deeply engraved on his face while his lower right lid twitched. His blue gaze holding Bobs gaze never wavering. Bob gave an exhausted sigh before starting again. " Bud, we don't have any choice. Think of the hundreds of thousands of people that will be hurt." Bob stated as he pressed an aqua colored button located on the black table in front of them.

A digital green screen popped up in front of all of the people in the room. Small pictures and numbers appeared in thousands. Bob pointed up at the screen, "See if you we can place that ender device on this part of the ship. That would give us enough time to stop this fleet and maybe - " " Bob I'm going to stop you there. " Buddy interrupted .

Bob looked as if he were going to speak again but Helen was by his side and placed a single hand on his chest . The red flamed colored haired young man walked up to the black table and placed both of his palms on table top. His smug smile gracing the group as his blue gaze landed on everyone in the room.

"The "ender device" as you put it. Which I'd prefer the term "Termination device" but you can take your pick I guess." He stated earning a sigh from Bob of irritation. Another super stepped up to the table slamming his gloved white hands on the table top a small frost film developed. "Look do you like to just hear yourself talk flame head," Frozone quickly stated a cool breeze swept across the room.

The other supers around the table agreed with small murmurs. You stood at the side of Helen watching Buddy again starting unnecessary arguments. They had talked just before walking into this meeting. You thought he had agreed he would be more well behaved. Buddy chuckled bringing his arms across his chest.

" Look on a serious note if we placed my device on this ship it would do as you said stop the fleet but what of the other people. Don't forget the other boring people on those ships. " Buddy argued. That was right. Those ships had in rough range 100 to 200 civilians people on each ship.

The silence of the room was deafening. " We have to think of the thousands of people in each city and town that would die.," Bob stated quickly answering what others wouldn't dare state. '' So, just screw the normies? That's a little dark for you supers." Bud commented earning another around of murmurs to began again in the room.

Bob made his way quickly around the table grabbing Buddy from his gray turtle neck. Lifting him up at least a foot from the floor. "Buddy!" You gasped in alarm at the sudden speed of the super. You nearly tripped over your feet towards the pair. Buddy still held bobs gaze his expression never changed. His arms were still crossed tightly across his chest as Bobs single fist held tightly to his shirt.

"How about you come up with a plan! Aren't you the one that killed off almost all of the the supers? Maybe if you hadn't we wouldn't be in this mess!" He argued. That set off the whole room into a uproar. Helen came by bobs side quickly talking to him trying to calm him down. Buddy fell from his grasp hitting the floor with his bottom giving out a groan of pain. You kneeled by him placing your hands on his forearm.

"Buddy, I thought you promised you wouldn't act like this here." You whispered quickly as she helped him up from the floor. He gave you a stern look before shrugging you off. His hair was in a slight disarray as he used his fingers to comb the hair it back in place. He straighten his shirt before heading towards the double door. You followed close behind him but not before giving a glance back over your shoulder to the supers. All of them stood about the room faces holding that of pure sorrow.

"I'm going to that damn bar downstairs." Buddy commented over his shoulder. You didn't respond back as you followed closely behind him.

They entered the bar through the doubled glass doors. Their foot steps being the only sound that was being made in this empty lobby. Buddy made his way to the bar sitting on the bar stool he ordered a margarita. The bar tender gave him a look of irritation at the rude order and went to the task of making the drink.

His gaze was focused so strongly on the the prepared drink in front of him. "Pfft what does that damned super know anyway. "He mumbled as he traced the glasses salted rim with his pointer finger. His blue gaze narrowed as he brought the palm of his hand harshly against the bars table top.

"Can't they just let it go?" He is statement was as if he was talking about something small and less then nothing. You knew not to answer his question he spoke out. You slide onto the bar stool that was just separated by a single stool from Buddy.

"What no drink for you?" He sneered. Before you could respond he waved his hand. "Bar tender another round of the mango margaritas." He demanded quickly before you could object. His narrowed gaze settled on you finally acknowledging you.

"You know your friends are such dicks." He stated fatly with a raised brow. You knew what he was doing and you weren’t playing into his game. The hurt was there in his blue gaze. The thought of "normie" people dying seemed to have triggered him. You brought your brown gaze from his to the bar tender giving a simple Thank you before taking a small sip. The drink burned your throat slightly but the after taste of mango was welcoming.

"I mean they are your friends right? Oh wait," Bubby tipped his head back placing the rim of the glass by his mouth and downing the whole drink. He let out a sigh of happiness before bringing his attention back to you. "That's right how could they be your friends. Didn't they have you-" "Stop it!" You snapped.

Maybe you should have just let Buddy arrive here by himself. You didn't need to be degraded by him because he become oversensitive to what Bob had told him. "Well finally you fight back." He retorted as he again downed another drink. You took a sip of your drink as you watched the flamed headed young man carefully. The drink itself made your mind slightly fuzzy but not enough to be called "buzzed out".

Buddy exhaled shakily as he placed his third drink back on the bars table top. You reached out carefully with her hand wanting to touch his arm. "Buddy, I think maybe you've had enough." You whispered carefully. He gaze fell to you again this time his eyelids were partly opened . There was a red hue floating across his nose making his pale skin appear more of a ghostly color.

His gaze shifted down to your hands and back to your face. "Drink up." He shouted. You nearly jumped out of the chair at his response. "Um Buddy I think you need to lower your voice." You tried to convey a stern voice but it was hard when he was looking at you like that. Buddy brought his hand up swaying slightly in his seat. "Give her another one." He drawled. The bar tender gave you a raised brow before turning away completely ignoring him.

Buddy nearly feel over off the bar stool as he transferred himself to the bar stool close to you. You could feel the prickle of embarrassment climbing up your body as goosebumps seemed to dance along your arms an legs. He was acting like a complete fool which wasn't like him at all. "Buddy maybe we should take our business upstairs." You voiced. He brought an open palm to his cheek leaning into it as his half lidded gaze focused on you. "N-Not before you finish your drink." He retorted. Buddy was at least a good 200 pounds and you knew no one at the hero society meeting wanted to deal with him. He knew you couldn't just move him a side.

You drew in a deep breathe before bringing your head back and the tip of the glass rim to your lips. The cold substance slipped past your lips and down your throat. The stinging sensation was carefully being replaced as you chugged it down with the sweetness of the mango. Slamming the glass back on the table you brought an open palm to your forehead. Your mind was drifting slowly and your visual perception was slowly starting to blur and double. "Oh boy this isn't good." You blabbered out.

And then some how they ended up in the dark alley way of the hotel facing each other..

-back in normal time-

Drinking that single tall glass of mango flavored margarita probably wasn’t the best , being that you were in the presence of an arms dealer,super killer,murder,etc. “Um, I , uh buddy” You finally responded as you slide your hands on his chest. The warmth beneath your palms made you want to bury your face right into him. His lips is what you noticed perked out as if he were going to blow dust off of you was zoning in on you.

The smell of the drinks lingering between the two made you instantly turn your face from his and his lips kissed your cheek. “ Gosh darn. You’re gon-gonna be a little hard to get uh little lady?” He asked breathlessly swaying slightly to the left. He brought a palm besides your head caging you in with him. “That’s not it. I- I uh just wanna” Your gaze shifted slightly away from him as your mind started to become blank.

“ I don’t think I remembered what I was gonna say” You admitted with a slight giggle escaping your lips. You brought your gaze slowly back to the flamed haired man in front of you. He had a sweet simple grin on his face that showed that ever adorable buck teeth. And it was that dust of red freckles that just swiped across his face that made him look like such a regular normie.

It was hard to believe hiding behind all that innocence was a trapped power hungry man that would do anything for it. His blue gaze shifted right to left trying to focus on you but failing terribly.

You felt your head tilt in question and before you could ask him why he was starring at you like that , warmth engulfed your lips. It felt like you were molding clay with your lips smashed so hard against his . You felt the need to place both of your hands on his board shoulders. “Bud,” You moaned softly. A groan from buddy answered as he leaned more into you. His chest pressed into you pinning you onto the brick wall .

You could feel his fingers touching ,gripping while they traveled down your sides as they slowly traced your bottom and hooked themselves behind your knees. His lips left yours and started to plant themselves down your neck moving past your turtle neck.

“Bu-BUDDY!” You gasped out loud as you were lifted up and held by buddy against the brick wall. His lips never leaving your neck. The wetness and massage of his lips working along your neck made you want to melt into a puddle in the spot.

He carefully pushed himself snuggly between your thighs as his hands finally left your knee caps and cupped her bottom. You face instantly blew up in warmth as you felt the pressing matter resting on your inner thigh. The heat you could feel coming from his throbbing member made you feel so breathless. The palms of his hands kneading your bottom , his lips and tongue massaging your neck what else could complete this night.

He let out a throaty groan as he rotated his hips into a clockwise motion. It felt like a tingle run up your spine as he continued grinding his hips into you making his way closer to your greatest treasure. You let your legs open wider feeling his throbbing member graze your private jewel ! Your hands instantly gripped his back letting out a throaty groan in response. You buried your face into his neck as he kept bucking his hips into you.

“ oh y/n your a damn good cow g-girl” he breathe into your neck. You felt goose bumps raise up at the comment. Why would he even say that? This was beyond stupid! Not more than 10ft was the council supers meeting and here they were acting like teens on prom night. Great now the drinks were starting to wear off.  He shifted your weight into one cupped hand.

You could feel your shirt being tugged and moved upwards. Feeling a cool breeze brush by your stomach as you bucked your hips into him. Buddy let out a groan of pleasure as he kept untucking your shirt. "bud no not here." You pleaded. Was he really going to try to have sex of all places here . You heard a chuckle in that response. His chest lifting slightly off of you as he brought his firm palm first on your right breast.

You let out a small gasp as Buddy's warm palm grasped your breast kneading it gently and allowing your nipple to be squeezed in-between his pointer and middle finger. Buddy rotated his hips again making you let out a loud gasp.

“ Buddy!” You cried out as he continued his attack of working those firm hips of his into yours. The sweet release like a tied roped knot was starting to untie itself. “ Buddy, p-please stop.. I’m going to end up-“ He stopped all movement and slowly brought his face to yours. His gleaming blue gaze holding that of naughty gleam. His lips curved slowly up into a smirk with his eyes narrowing. All the drinks affects had long since been driven from his system. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him that.

“Go ahead. I want to see that face in pure ecstasy.” He whispered. You didn’t know just words could release you but it did. You felt that knot in the depth of your stomach release. You gripped harshly onto buddy’s shoulders as you let out a gasp of surprise. Buddy gripped your bottom tightly with both hands  as he pressed himself onto your already sore jewel moving your hips up and down on his clothed member.

His mouth went directly to your nipple wrapping his lips around the tip of your petal. His tongue rolling the tip effortless around in his warm mouth. A groan escaping him " Say I'm your super. " he breathed out as he suckled her breast.

That made you want to scream out of pleasure as the waves of pleasure kept coming. " N-No " you squeaked out. He opened his mouth on your breast . His tongue rolled over the tip as his blue gaze meet hers. "Come on. Say it. Say I'm your super." He countered again his lips moving on your swollen nipple as he spoke. 

That was making you go insane he looked so damned sexy for God's sake. "Y-Your my super hero." You gasped out  finally feeling goose bumps again travel down her body at the embarrassment.

You let her bottom lip slip between your teeth as you tried to still yourself from screaming and gasping anymore. You could feel liquid seep out of your pussy and soak your underwear. Your heart was practically bouncing so hard against your chest. You were riding your high of cumming on his clothed dick.

Your body slumped into his grasp as you were breathing harshly against his shoulder. Your insides every so slightly twitched causing you to let out a small groan. “ well I’ll be darned didn’t think I had that kind a of affect on ladies!” He boasted with a chuckle.

You jumped in surprise in still feeling his hard member on your sore sensitive clothed clit . Buddy gave you a quick peck on your forehead before lowering you back on your feet. Your legs felt so light and shaky you would have fallen if you hadn’t caught yourself in time grasping the brick wall with your hands. You quickly brought your shirt down your exposed nipple hardening with cool breeze.

"Man that was something wasn't. I'd say the best you've ever had." He stated a sly grin on his face. You couldn't believe that's what he wanted to hear. "Don't be so bold, Buddy." You countered as you went to tuck your shirt back into your pants. " Oh come on. I had you saying I was your hero " he stated his voice low and rich. You didn't even dare too look at him as the scene relayed in your mind.

Before either of them could speak another word a voice was heard behind buddy.

“ hey you two there’s something new that came up in the meeting I -ohhh” You felt your cheeks hit up in embarrassment at the sudden voice of Helen. Buddy placed both of his palms once again one on each side of you. His form covering you from the motherly women.

“ Ms. Helen uh it’s not what it looks like!” You squeaked out as you tried to push buddy back from you. Buddy gave you a look before that same sneaky grin grew across his face.

“ oh Helen it definitely looks like what you’re thinking. Tell bob oh boy that we need another 20 mins of fuuu-hey!” You watched as buddy was thrown clean across the alley way into bagged trash. A thin wired arm went towards you wagging a naughty finger at you.

“Y/n, y/n I’m going to treat you as if you’re my daughter. Get your bottom in here right now or you are grounded missy.’’ Helen sternly voiced. This only brought further damage to your reputation it seemed as you dragged your feet across the way feeling like heated teen caught in the action.

“ugh she's 25! Not a child! !’’ Buddy yelled from the trash dump he was thrown too. His blue glaze never leaving from you.

“I don’t understand why do we need men. Like- women can do what they can in bed, can’t they?” Larissa asked you and you realized that it wasn’t only you who was getting pretty drunk. She was waving with her hand in which the glass of wine was and you realized that it wouldn’t be good it it spilled. So you stood up from the armchair, walked over to her.

“I think it is enough for you Larissa. You don’t want your carpet all from red wine now, do you?”

“I will put this down if you show me how it works,” she challenged you and you only blinked few times, looking her into the eyes. She chuckled and you took a deep breath, taking the glass of wine. “Accepted?”

“No Larissa. You’re drunk and you’ll probably regret it tomorrow,” you said and you put the red wine onto the coffee table, only few seconds before Larissa pulled you into her lap.

“Please?”

The eyes she gave you. Oh that would get you onto your knees immediately. You looked her into her eyes with a question in them and when she nodded her head, you closed your eyes.

“Y/n, please-“

You slowly slid onto your heels and sat down in front of the woman. Looking up at her, she seemed like she had sobered up in that very second and you licked your lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Just fuck me already Y/n,” she whined and that was the first time you heard your boss whine.

“As you wish,” you said quietly and smiled a little when you realized what was about to happen. This was a big dream of yours and you were sure Larissa would regret it the next morning. But you didn’t want drunk Larissa to fire you. “Can you roll your dress up for me?”

Larissa did as you asked her the following second. She was so fast and you smiled over her reactions. And when your eyes landed on her lace panties, you swallowed. Lord, she was stunning.

“Can I take these off?”

“Yeah,” she said only and you hooked your fingers in her panties. Looking up at her, you saw her biting her lip and that made you continue in your work. When her panties fell to her ankles, she spread her legs by herself, revealing her glistening cunt to you.

You climbed closer to her and opened her legs wide so you could fit between her thighs. When Larissa opened them even more for you, you knew she was okay with it. And the fun could start.

“Tell me when it is getting too much okay?”

“Y/n, for fucks sake, just fuck me already,” Larissa whined out and as soon as she realized what did she say, she covered her mouth with her palm and looked at you. You smiled and took her hand off her mouth.

“I want to hear you love,” you said and lowered your face, getting closer to her core. Once you tasted her and she moaned quietly, biting on her lip, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get enough of this woman. Your tongue was sliding over her folds and then between them, earning moans and whimpers from Larissa. Once your tongue slid inside of her, her hand found your hair and she pulled it softly, making you moan against her, sending vibrations into her body.

“You’re so fucking good at this- keep going, Y/n, love,” Larissa moaned and you used your hand. You circled her clit in tight torturing circles, while your tongue was working. Larissa gasped when you pressed your fingers against her clit and you smiled. “Fingers- faster please-“

“As you wish beautiful,” you pulled away and replaced your tongue with your fingers. Using only two of them first, you smoothly slid inside and watched the blonde’s face turn into your favorite face expression of hers so far.

“Yeah Y/n- just like that-“

Larissa however didn’t know what you were about to do. You sped up your hand, catching her off-guard. She moaned loudly, so loudly and you could only enjoy those moans of hers. Your other hand was on her clit and you were literally torturing her.

“Can you handle another one?”

“Please-“

“Since you asked so nicely, I don’t see a problem here,” you assured her and prepared another finger. As soon as you pushed it in, Larissa arched in her back and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. Knowing how badly did she want to cum, you sped your hand up, watching her chest rise and fall faster than you remembered. “That’s a good girl Larissa. Look how you’re taking my fingers. Like a good little girl. Are you a good little girl Larissa?”

“Yes- shit Y/n- Yes I am,” Larissa was gasping what made her answer a little more difficult to form, but you understood he perfectly.

She was wet. So wet. Listening to her sounds you were getting from her made your stomach do a twirl in your body and you continued. Circling her clit tightly and pushing your fingers as deep as possible, to bring her the release she was craving that long.

“Lay down,” you said and pulled the handle which was on the armchair. It adjusted so Larissa was laying by that moment and you told her to put her legs onto the armrests. And she did so. Chuckling, you crawled up to her so you were face to face and your hand could continue in fucking her.

“Y/n- faster please-“ she asked but you didn’t know the rest of her request because you shut her up with a kiss. While you had your mouth in here, you sped your hand up, fucking her as a little whore. Larissa was whining into your mouth, moaning even and you were smiling into the kiss. Your fingers were stretching her out so well, you could feel how wet she was, how needy she was… and soon enough you could hear her.

“Love- make me cum- oh shit, make me cum-“

“Soon Larissa, soon,” you said because you felt her clenching hardly. You were focusing on her clit and on her soft spot, trying to help the woman out the best you could. You were speeding your fingers up and you had a feeling of that Larissa would cum faster once she’s drunk. Your fingers were working, Larissa was moaning. With those moans she was begging for her release and you were about to give it to her.

“Close Y/n- close- fuck-“ she said in a high pitched tone and you chuckled. Showing your fingers as deep as you could, you pulled them back and repeated the process. When you saw her shaking with her mouth agape, you knew she was falling over the edge. You pushed your fingers deep and kept them in the same place to make the woman cum. What also happened.

“Fuck Y/n!” She whimpered, throwing her head back. Larissa arched in her back, pushing her tits up and closed her legs, enjoying the wave of orgasm. You, however kept fingering her, so she could enjoy her release. Cumming all over your fingers. “Yes- oh my god-“ Larissa was breathing heavily and her walls clenched around your fingers really hard. It was the last one you got. Giving her few more thrusts, you pulled your fingers out after and looked at her swollen cunt.

“Oh darling this is all messy. Should I clean you up?”

Larissa wasn’t able to answer you. She just nodded her head, her mind all fuzzy and blurry. You pulled your fingers out, reaching them out to her so she could suck on them while you were licking her sweet cunt.

“Mhm- mh-“ she was moaning while she was sucking your fingers clean and you were lapping all of her cum. Once she was finished she let go of your fingers with a ‘pop’ and moaned. “Holy shit- oh-“

You pulled away and licked your lips. Catching Larissa’s sight, you smiled at her and leant to her for a kiss which she gave you. Then you stroked her cheeks and smiled.

“I will run us a bath pretty. You just keep laying here, I’ll come for you.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled and you placed another kiss onto her lips, just a peck. Then you chuckled and walked past her, heading to the bathroom.

“Why would I need a man if I have you Y/n?”