A/N: I know there's a couple stories out there of the DEACON/RAYNA finale reunion, and so I thought I'd share mine. One-shot, short piece. I took some creative liberty with the Maddie/Vince Pierce scene and extended the Deacon/Rayna reunion. Fair warning, it's pure DEYNA SMUT and NSFW all the way—so for mature readers ONLY. Dialogue in italics follows the script dialogue that aired in the finale. Enjoy! xoMESSIE Jo
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Characters and story arcs are property of the show "Nashville" and ABC and its affiliates. No copyright infringement intended!
"Dear Maddie – I want to tell you a story about something that happened to me a long time ago. I started working with a music producer when I was just about your age. And now you're working with that same producer…" Maddie read, glancing up at Vince who was across the room fixing their drinks at the bar. "I never want you to feel the way I felt then…naïve and responsible for what happened. Because I wasn't. He was. No young woman should have to feel pressured or shamed or tricked into a sexual situation by any man, especially the ones we're supposed to trust. And your value and worth will never be measured by your willingness to do something you're not comfortable doing. Always remember that. And always remember… I love you."
Maddie swallowed the lump in her throat as she set down her phone and looked up as Vince headed back over with the drinks. "Hey, here you go," he said, holding the near-full glass out to her.
Maddie took the glass, hesitating. "I should um—I think I should go upstairs," she said, a little nervous.
He sat down on the table in front of her, only inches from her—crowding her. "Whoa. What's going on? Shoot, we were just starting to open up to one another," he said, lifting his drink to his lips.
"I just—I think— "Maddie swallowed hard. "I think I shouldn't be here…anymore."
"Hey now. C'mon, sweetheart. You were all about cozying up to me for a selfie yesterday. And you came to my party. Now suddenly you're not interested?" he asked, accusingly.
Maddie shook her head. "I-I was never interested. Not like that." She took the drink and set it down on the table next to the sofa.
Vince bristled. "Wow. I must have misunderstood. See, I thought you wanted to be a grown-up, and have a real, grown-up career," he said.
Maddie shook her head. "If this is what it takes to have a career, then I don't want one," she said, attempting to stand.
He stopped her, grabbing her arm hard. Maddie let out a quiet gasp and looked down at his hand holding her arm, both surprised and fearful. Her mother's words in the letter her friend Talia had sent her the link to played over again in her head. Her mouth went dry and she glanced at the door, wondering where in the hell Cash was and why she hadn't come looking for her by now. Tears filled her eyes as he grabbed her drink off the table and handed it back to her, still gripping her arm tightly. "Alright sweetheart, have a drink. There you go, take it," he said, when she didn't immediately take it. "There you go. Hey, listen," he said, brushing his fingertips across her bare thighs, just above her knees. She felt sick, wishing she hadn't let Cash talk her into wearing such a short skirt. "Listen, if you want to be an artist, I mean a real artist— "he said, releasing her arm only to twist a lock of her hair around his finger.
She tried to pull back. "Please—please don't…" she pleaded quietly.
"Hey—come here," he said, sliding his hand to her cheek. "Then you're going to have to put yourself completely into it," he said, leaning in closer.
Maddie's fear rose, her heart racing so hard she thought it would beat right out of her chest. She felt light-headed, both from the alcohol and the fear rapidly coursing through her. "Please don't—don't— "she tried again as she felt his hand slide further up her leg and he pulled her towards him, kissing her hard. He tasted like stale cigarettes and alcohol and she wanted to be sick. She shoved at him with her hands, the drink she'd been holding spilling on them both. He cursed and pulled back, angry. A second later she felt the stinging, hard slap across her face. She cried out, both from the stinging pain and the shock of it. She'd never been hit before in her life. Not even by her parents. And certainly never by a boy…or man. It hurt. It hurt…a lot. Tears slid down her face and she could taste the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.
"You ungrateful little— "Vince started, his eyes flashing with anger as he wiped at his wet lap from her spilled drink. "Now look what you made me do," he said accusingly, grabbing her arm again when she tried to move away, preventing her from going anywhere.
"Please— "she started.
"Maddie!" came a faint yell. At first she thought she imagined it. And then she heard it again, this time closer. "Maddie!" Relief and recognition coursed her at the familiar voice.
"Who is that?" Vince asked, annoyed.
Her eyes widened and she pushed his hand away. "That's my Dad," she said as she set down the half-empty glass and stood, just as her Dad came through the door. She ran to him, sobbing. "Dad!"
"Baby! C'mere," Deacon called to Maddie as she ran towards him, gathering her up in his arms as she sobbed, her whole body trembling. "You okay? You alright? He do anything to you?" he asked her, holding her back a ways so he could look at her. Maddie was grateful for the dim lighting in the room, hoping it hid what she was sure was bound to be a nice smarting cheek from Vince's slap just minutes earlier. As shocked and hurt as she was that Vince had laid a hand on her—she knew telling her father that particular little detail would only make things worse. If he hadn't shown up when he did—she didn't want to think of what Vince might have done. She didn't care how he'd known where to find her or why he was there—all that mattered was that he was. And she was grateful. After all the horrible things she'd done and said in court…he'd still come for her. But she'd seen the way her Dad had reacted with that photographer after her the rehearsal dinner and then with the guy in that bar…he was nothing if not protective of his little girl. She'd seen what her Dad was capable of when angry…and Vince didn't stand a chance. She didn't want her Dad getting in trouble for defending her and as shaken as she was—hell, as angry as she was that Vince had put his hands on her and tried—god, she didn't even want to think about it—her desire to get as far away from Vince and that house as she could outweighed her need for payback. She shook her head. "N-No," she answered. Deacon wasn't altogether convinced though, as he stepped away from her and headed straight towards Vince. "D-Dad, no. Please don't…" she tried. "Hey. You touch my daughter?" she heard him ask Vince as he approached the flustered other man.
Vince wasn't stupid. He knew who Deacon Claybourne was…and he'd heard of his reputation. He stepped back, putting his hands up. "Hey man, come on—nothing happened," he denied.
"Nothing happened," Deacon repeated, unconvinced. "How about my wife? Anything happen there?" Deacon asked.
Vince went cold as he swallowed hard, an image of Rayna Jaymes popping up in his mind from what seemed like a life-time ago. He shot a glance in Maddie's direction. Her daughter really was the spitting image of her mother. He forced the thoughts away as he faced Deacon. "I don't know what you're talking about, man," he denied, lying through his teeth.
Deacon stared at him, the look in his eyes telling him he knew exactly what had gone on, both with Rayna all those years ago and tonight with Maddie. Vince steeled himself for the beat-down that he expected was coming…was surprised when it didn't. Instead, Deacon just nodded. "Yeah, you do. And now the whole world knows," Deacon said with a bit of a smirk, the remark cryptic. Vince was left to wonder what in the hell he meant by that when Deacon turned to Maddie and reached for her hand. "Let's go Maddie," he said, and they started for the door.
Cash came through just as they were on their way out. "Maddie, I've been looking everywhere for—Deacon, what are you—Maddie!" she called.
Maddie stopped and turned back to her. "Where were you, Cash?"
Cash shook her head. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"You said you'd protect me!" Maddie yelled. "But when I needed you, you were gone with some guy!" Maddie cried. She turned to leave with her Dad, but Cash grabbed her hand to stop her.
"No, no, no. I'm sorry. I got caught up in everything and I'm really sorry. I promise that will never happen again. You know me," she pleaded.
Maddie looked from Cash to her Dad. Deacon swallowed hard. "It's your choice," he told her. He wasn't going to force her to go with him. That's how he'd lost her the last time.
"Maddie, let's get out of here," Cash insisted.
Maddie looked again at her Dad and then at Vince, remembering the fear she'd felt when he'd had her trapped against the sofa, his hands on her—kissing her. Cash had promised to protect her, but she hadn't been the one to save her. Her Dad had. She looked at Cash's pleading face and shook her head, turning instead to Deacon. "Dad—can we just go? Please," she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah Baby, we can," he said and took her hand again, leading her through the door and up the stairs. Cash followed them out of the house and down to the street where Deacon had parked the rented SUV, begging Maddie to reconsider and telling her over and over again that she was making a mistake by leaving with her Dad. Tears were still streaming down Maddie's face as they drove away, leaving Cash standing there in the street, alone.
They drove to the arena where the FosterMore fundraiser was still going on in near silence, save for the sound of Maddie's soft cries. Deacon wanted nothing more than to stop the car and gather her up in his arms, but he had a feeling his little girl needed her Mama more right then, so he drove as fast as he could.
They reached the arena parking lot some 20 minutes later, but before they could get out of the car, Maddie stopped and turned to Deacon. "D-Dad?"
"Yeah sweetheart?"
She looked away in shame. "I'm sorry. About what I said in court. I didn't m-mean it—I'm not afraid of you. I-I'm so, so sorry," she cried, sobbing anew.
His heart broke and he immediately drew her into his arms, holding on tight. "I know you didn't, baby. You don't have to be sorry, not for anything." He held her for a moment, just glad to have her in his arms again, the past few months with her gone having been nothing short of pure hell. "Ready to go in?" he asked her after a few minutes.
She nodded, trying to wipe at the tears. "Dad I—thank you—for coming to find me. If you hadn't— "she went silent, not wanting to think again about what might have happened, let alone speak the words out loud.
He pulled her close for another hug. "I'm your Dad, sweetheart. I'll always come. No matter what."
Maddie clung to him. "I love you, Dad."
"Oh, I love you, too sweet girl," he whispered, kissing the top of her. He held her for a few minutes longer, then brushed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, smiling down at her. "Let's go find your sister and your Mama, okay?"
10 minutes later they were backstage and heading towards the side-stage, just as Rayna was making her way down the stage steps. Concentrating on not falling down in those killer 4 inch heels she was wearing, she came to a sudden stop when she noticed them, startled. Her eyes went wide when she saw Maddie and then quickly filled with tears as they desperately embraced, Rayna with her arms outstretched and Maddie running to essentially launch herself into her mother's arms. Rayna wrapped her arms around Maddie, the tears falling. "Oh, baby girl," she cried, holding Maddie tight.
Maddie clung to her mother, sobbing.
Deacon watched the exchange, tearing up a little himself at the mother/daughter reunion. For the first time in months he saw the light shine back in his wife's eyes. It had killed him to see her so sad and broken and hurting—and he honestly wasn't sure if they were going to make it through. But seeing her, seeing the joy in her eyes as she hugged their baby girl tightly, that feeling of uncertainty and hopelessness was gone. There was hope again. He knew they were going to be okay. All four of them.
LATER THAT NIGHT
"Mhm, Ray?" Deacon asked sleepily, stirring at the movement made by Rayna as she slipped into the bed. Peeking an eye at the clock on the lamp-stand beside the bed in their hotel suite, he saw that it was just after 3am. Naturally, he was a little disoriented at first, and then he remembered bidding her and the girls a goodnight as the three shared the king size bed in the adjoining bedroom suite just a few short hours ago, before retiring to the master suite and bed alone. Rayna hadn't wanted to leave Maddie's sight—understandably—and he'd wanted to give the three of them some much needed time together. So Rayna crawling into bed at 3am was unexpected.
"Hey," she whispered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, Babe," she apologized.
"No, it's okay," he said. "Everything okay with the girls?" he asked.
She nodded. "They're good. They're asleep. I woke up, couldn't fall back to sleep. Thought I'd sneak in here," she said with a little smile. "I always sleep better in your arms, Babe."
He smiled back at her, reaching for her even as she went to him, tucking herself next to and into him in their typical vine-like fashion, cheek pressed to his chest, hands wrapped around him, her leg insinuated and tangled between his. "Hey," she whispered again, smiling sheepishly up at him. "I've missed this, Babe. You...us, like this," she admitted softly, longing in her voice.
"Me too, baby," he agreed, leaning down to capture her mouth in what was intended to be a sweet goodnight kiss. She, however, had other intentions, which she made clear when she dragged his lower lip between her teeth, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips. She took advantage of the groan the act elicited from him to slide her tongue past his parted lips, deepening the kiss. His left palm traveled slowly from her waist to lovingly cup the side of her face, angling her mouth for better access, while he gently nudged onto her back, his weight pressing her down into the mattress; his body cradled between her spread legs. He smiled moments later at the breathless gasp that passed her lips when he rocked his perfectly aligned pelvis against hers. Unbelievably, he was already rock-hard and painfully aroused with an incredibly intense lust for her. But then, it was Rayna. She tended to have that effect on him. Also, it probably didn't hurt the fact that it'd been months since they'd been together—sexually, that is—not since the whole emancipation thing with Maddie. God, how he'd missed her—missed being with her. Sex with Rayna was always incredible. He'd been with his fair share of women over the years while Ray was still married to Teddy, but none of the sex had even come close in comparison with sex with Rayna. It was amazing, really—just how much and how badly he wanted and was attracted her, even still after all the years. Decades may have passed, but to him, she was still the most beautiful and the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. As corny as it might have sounded, their history and their love for one another truly made the sex all the more special…and believe it or not, hotter.
He was a lucky son of a bitch, he knew, to be the man lucky enough to have her—to stand by her, sleep next to her…call his wife. Beauty aside, she was a goddess in bed. She was responsive as hell. She took, but she also gave in spades. She was bold and vocal when it came to her needs and tended to be a little loud. She loved being on top and being in control just as much as she loved it when he took control. She liked to talk dirty—so unlike the Queen of Country Rayna Jaymes—and trying new things-within reason-and cried his name when she came. And post-sex cuddling—she was a huge fan. Everything about it and her, he loved. Everything. She was quite literally the most delicious and heavenly "dessert". And where Rayna Jaymes was concerned—he had—without shame—the biggest sweet tooth.
Focusing on his task at hand, he dragged his mouth from her lips to that spot just behind her ear along the column of her neck that drove her crazy and then further down. She was wearing one of her silk camisoles with spaghetti straps, allowing him a path of kisses along her collarbone. Slowly, he tugged down first one of the cami's straps from her shoulder and then the other, exposing her breasts—one of his most favorite features. She moaned when he plumped one perfect globe in his palm before his mouth closed over the sensitive, hard nub, suckling her. She slid her fingers through his hair as he continued the sweet torment, alternating, until she was nearly writhing beneath him. Being merciful, he abandoned her breasts to continue his path downward, his tongue dipping inside her belly button along the way, until he reached the waistband of the only other article of clothing she was wearing: a pair of black lace boy-short panties. "Christ Ray," he breathed, inhaling sharply. She was going to be the death of him one day. No doubt. He nuzzled her mound through the lace, taking a moment to breathe in her intoxicating scent—an all-too-familiar scent that sent all his blood rushing to his dick. He couldn't think. He just knew he had to have her. Wasting no time, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of the panties on either side of her hips and slid them down and off her legs, tossing the scrap of lace in the general vicinity of where he'd tossed her camisole minutes before. Completely naked and completely at his mercy, she whimpered under his intense gaze. Purposely positioning himself between her legs, he placed one arm over her hips to hold her in place. He flashed her a smirk before spreading her already wet folds with the middle and index fingers of his other hand, lowering his head. It was a good thing he had his arm holding her down, as her hips nearly shot up off the bed as he gave a long, slow lick along the length of her folds, tasting her.
"Shiiitt!" she cursed, throwing her head back, her eyes closed. "Oh God, Babe—oh— "she cried softly as he latched onto her clit, suckling with just the right amount of pressure to drive her towards the peak. "Y-Yes—yeah—oh my god, don't stop—Deacon—f-fuck—that feels—oh my god-oh— "cried, her breath ragged. He could tell she was close. Rather than relent, he took the same two fingers and ran them along her folds, lubricating them with her wetness, before working them slowly inside her. Starting slow, the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of her tight warmth picked up quickly. It wasn't long before he felt her clamp down around his fingers, the inner walls of her core contracting and pulsing around him as she arched her back and cried out his name, flying over the edge into that sweet, sweet heaven—otherwise known as an orgasm. He eased her down from the high with gentle strokes of his fingers as he made his way back up her body, kissing her.
She sighed with content, kissing him back as her hands slipped beneath the t-shirt he wore, her fingers moving over the strong, corded muscles of his back. She grew quickly impatient, pulling at the shirt until he finally sat back on his haunches and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor for her before leaning back down to reclaim her mouth. Her hands ran up and down his back even and she used the soles of her feet to shimmy his boxers down his thighs, his rock-hard cock springing free and brushing against her belly. "Mhmmm," she said in response, reaching between their bodies to grip his length in her hand.
He hissed at the feel of her soft hands on him, sliding up and down his shaft with just the right amount of pressure. She knew him well. When she released his shaft to fondle his balls a bit, he nearly shot his load right there. Cursing, he reached down and pushed her hand away. "Not like that darlin', I'm too close," he said. She gave him the sexiest pout, to which he just laughed and settled himself into position between the cradle of her legs. Holding his shaft at the base, he slowly ran the tip up and down her folds, spreading the wetness. Poised at her entrance, he took his time, filling her inch by every agonizingly slow but heavenly inch, until he was in to the hilt. Giving her a minute to adjust, he slowly started to rock his pelvis against hers, alternating between shallow and deep thrusts, keeping the pace slow and steadily for a good while. Wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her feet at the small of his back—which allowed him the perfect angle to reach some of her most sensitive spots, he picked up the pace. Her nails dug in his back and he lowered his head to the curve of her shoulder as he gave himself over to bringing them both to their release. He knew she was close by the sounds she was making, her breathless words of encouragement and pleas. Almost to the point of no return, he slipped his hand between their bodies, finding her clit, palming it as he thrust over and over again, so hard and so fast. Seconds later, she was coming apart in his arms, his name on her lips. He followed less than a minute later, spilling himself inside her in a series of shallow thrusts, her walls milking him for all that he was worth. Spent, he collapsed to his side, rolling her with him in his arms as they both worked to normalize their breathing together.
"And that…I definitely missed that," she said a little while later, still a little breathless.
He grinned down at her, nodding. "Yeah. That was…"
"Hot," she answered for him, her voice thick with desire. She slid her fingers through his hair and tugged his head down, pressing her mouth to his in a scorching kiss that flamed the burning embers of their just-finished lovemaking session. He felt himself go hard again, still inside her and she moaned, pulling back to look in his eyes. Hers were clouded with desire. "Someone's ready for round two, already," she said with a smirk, wigging her hips in a way that had him groaning.
"Can't help it. My wife is so…fucking…sexy..." he said, emphasizing each word with a kiss.
"Oh yeah?" she asked, mirth in her eyes that quickly changed to lust as she swung a leg over his hips so that she was straddling him, their bodies still joined.
He grinned as she leaned down and he kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her as he thrust his hips upwards. She lifted her hips, then slowly slid down his length, grounding against him. Pressing his mouth against her ear, he nodded. "Oh yeah," he whispered, then angled hips in another upwards thrust, satisfaction fulling him at the gasp that slid past her lips. Turnabout, of course, was fair play, when she swiveled her hips in a figure-8 motion moments later, her inner walls intentionally clenching his steel-hard shaft as she sunk her teeth in his shoulder, her tongue quickly swooping out to sooth the hurt. Her actions elicited not just a groan from him, but from herself as well—as the two were both so attuned to one another and turned on that they were nearly blinded with their desire. Deacon, himself, had all he could do to keep from rolling her onto her back and pounding away at her until neither of them could walk. His only restraint was the sheer pleasure he got out of watching her ride him and be in control. Rayna at the reins—it was a glorious sight. Pure heaven. She was his Aphrodite—with that tight, smooth, slightly sweat-glistened body of hers, that thick mane of red-gold hair that just begged for fingers to run through it, to be tugged on. Her breasts—full and bouncing with movement—were absolute perfection. And that mouth—her kiss-swollen lips slightly parted, save for when she bit down on that full bottom lip—a sure-sign she was enjoying herself but was too demure to let slip every sigh and moan and cry of pleasure that would otherwise slip past those gorgeous lips—were she to let them. God, he loved her mouth, and the things the woman could do with it… He loved her, every inch of her—inside and out. So much that it hurt.
He watched her then, allowed her to do most of the work…to take control…and he was there many glorious minutes later, matching her near-frenzied movements with some gasp-eliciting, pleasure-inducing ones of his own before they catapulted over the edge, soaring into oblivion together. And he was there… to catch her as she tumbled down into his arms moments later. To hold her against his chest, boneless and breathless—her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax, until her breath returned and her pulse slowed, and even then some many minutes after that.
Sometime later, he smiled as he stared down at her, fast asleep and curled up against him. The moonlight from the window shone through, and just happened to cast its low light on the wedding and engagement rings he'd given her that she wore; as in sleep, she had her arm draped over him and her hand splayed on his chest. Those rings were a testament to the strength of not just their relationship, but also their love. It was as if the universe was making a statement of its own: they'd weathered through the storm—and made it through. Together.
**END**