#Rhett Abbott fic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: Tessa comes across the high school rodeo team sweatshirt that Rhett donated to the Boys' Home - and decides to keep it for herself. (wc: 3401)

Warnings: background ocs, no actual rhett in this chapter, a flashback

✎……PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || NEXT CHAPTER

Rhett hooked his forefinger beneath her chin and her breath hitched in her throat. Got caught on something like yearning as he wiped at her chin with his thumb. The edge of those rough calluses brushing against her bottom lip. 

It was everything she wanted when she was fifteen. He wanted her. Looked down at her now with blue eyes so soft and wondering, mouth ticked up in some smirk only slightly cocky. He swiped his thumb over her chin a second time, pulled in closer to her, made it feel like he was the only other person there. The sounds of chattering children and cars as they drove by were drowned out by the rushing sound in her ears. The pit in her stomach burst into flames, roaring and all-consuming as she felt the heat coming off of Rhett’s body. So close. So wanting. 

He wanted her. She wanted him back. Even after what happened at the bonfire. With his laugh so soft and smell of freshly ground feed and open sincerity. And wasn’t that everything she desired? To want and be wanted in return?

But just like that, the moment was over. He retracted his hand and pulled away from her. Tessa looked up from the bucking bronco on his shirt to his face. Some fear there she recognized from the general store.

“M’sorry ‘bout las’night. I think y’re one helluva girl and I just…M’sorry I’made ya uncomfortable, s’all. Wasn’t my intention.” 

His mouth opened and closed, those crystalline blue eyes widening as he stared at her. He thought he messed up again. Made her uncomfortable. That she would bolt from him again at any second. But there was no room for fear. No frigid wind to put out the flame. She didn’t know what had changed. Maybe it was seeing a side of Rhett that was entirely unexpected to her. That he would apologize for coming on too strong. That he would take his niece out for ice cream and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with her. That he would reveal to a girl he couldn’t remember the name of a week ago that he used to pretend he was a cowboy in his front yard. Whatever it was, this didn’t feel fleeting, in the moment. 

With Rhett, right now, it felt complete. 

And sorrow may have still been inevitable, in her experience it surely was, but it was a risk she was willing to take. 

So she opened her mouth and spoke quietly, “D’you get it?”

“Uh-huh,” he muttered back, a relieved smirk on his face as he licked his thumb clean. “Tastes good.”

But then he was leaving. Gathering his niece under his arm and giving Tessa a reluctant goodbye with a sad kind of smile. And she let him go.

Unconsciously, she reached up and touched her chin, her bottom lip. She could still feel his touch against her skin. Warm and rough and so gentle all at once. Something she hadn’t felt since high school fluttered around in her stomach as she grinned beyond her control. Bit her lip to try and hide it as she felt her cheeks heat. Just from the memory of being touched by him — of being the center of his attention.

It was everything her fifteen year old self dreamed of. Wrote about in her diary she still had tucked away on a shelf back home. Somewhere deep inside, she could even feel that teenage girl squealing and giggling and kicking her feet. 

But was it what her twenty-three year old self wanted? Dreamed of? Wanting to be wanted was not the same as wanting. As desiring to be around someone all the time and longing for them to know the innermost parts of her like the back of their hand. To know the innermost parts of them in return, no matter how messy. To see it and love it and want to build with it. With them. With Rhett? She didn’t know.

Her life was complicated and busy. Haunted by a living ghost of who she would become. Determined to change her fate. And yet terrified to do it. Her efforts so far had led to nothing but understandable heartbreak and defeat. Too many schedule changes and cancellations. Not enough time spent with the person she thought she could maybe desire if given long enough. But she was never given long enough.

She was never enough to try for. To stick it out and wait and hope. Would Rhett be willing to wait? To try? Just to be with her? His whispered reputation around bar tables and over the back of salon chairs wasn’t promising. According to Laney, he’s slept with more women than she can count. Warm bodies to scratch an itch and satisfy a carnal desire and then left with empty promises of a phone call. To Tessa, it sounded like a lonely existence. One she wasn’t sure she entirely believed either. He seemed too kind and too sincere for it to be the whole truth. 

“M’sorry ‘bout las’night. I think y’re one helluva girl and I just…M’sorry I’made ya uncomfortable, s’all. Wasn’t my intention.” 

Someone whose sole intention was to sleep with her wouldn’t say that. Wouldn’t go so far to apologize in person and then keep talking to her after. Reveal secret pieces of himself to her.

Rhett Abbott was turning out to be far more confusing than she thought he ever could be. The boy she crushed so hard on in high school she cried over it. The bull rider who forgot her name. The man who invited her to bonfires and came on too strong and listened. A puzzle with pieces so jagged and random they surely didn’t fit together. But some part of her was determined to figure it out.

Even if it meant breaking her own heart in the process.

“That y’r boyfriend’r somethin’?” a cracking voice asked suddenly. 

Tessa jumped as she looked over to see Wyatt sitting down beside her on the bench. Shaggy black hair falling in his eyes  — she needed to get him in for a haircut soon. If he even let her. He was shorter for his age, scrawny with bones sticking out even though he ate enough to feed three people most days. He looked pleased that he had been able to scare her as he settled into his seat. 

“No,” she replied, hand over her heart as if that would stop its rapid beating. “Rhett’s a friend. His niece Amy n‘ Jace’re in the same class.”

Wyatt didn’t respond. Suddenly disinterested as he poked his thin fingers into the holes in the metal table. Jace sat on the bench seat beside them, possibly pretending his spoon was an airplane and his empty ice cream bowl was either a target or a boat to land on. 

Tessa looked over her shoulder to see Colton still across the street with all his friends. Laughing and attempting tricks on his skateboard. She turned back to Wyatt. “Why aren’t ya with Colton n’them?”

“They…They didn’really talk t’me, so…” 

She had to stop herself from tsking, from reaching over and pushing his hair out of his eyes and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. She knew this was going to happen. They were all older than Wyatt by several years. All high schoolers while he was still in middle school. At least they hadn’t made fun of him or teased him. At least he didn’t say they did, anyway. 

It was hard to make friends while living in the Boys’ Home. Regimented schedules and fairly strict policies about any of the boys being out of the house on their own. Tessa knew it was for their own good. Living in the Home made for a safe space for them to live and learn and grow. A place where their needs could be met and problems could be solved. A place where she hoped each of them felt cared for and loved. Despite the hindrances to their social lives.

“Wanna play finger football?” she asked, eyebrows raised as she took the ice cream cone wrapper she was going to throw away and began folding it into a triangle. 

Wyatt shrugged. “Sure.”  

“Can I play?” Jace quickly jumped in to ask, dropping his spoon with a clatter. 

“You can keep score f’r now,” she replied as she finished folding the wrapper. “Play the winner when we’re done.” 

They played for a few minutes. Wyatt beat her soundly at the game that was really all hand-eye coordination (of which Tessa severely lacked), and then he beat Jace too. Who grumbled at his loss, lip sticking out as he set his chin down on his arms crossed on top of the table. And Tessa smiled when Wyatt offered to give him a few pointers when they got home. 

It amazed her sometimes how tight-knight the boys were. They were nearly like brothers. Supported one another and fought with one another like them too. Older ones helping the younger and always looking out for one another at school. They stuck together, and for it Tessa was grateful. It was hard going through life when you lived in a place like that. At so young. A constant reminder and marker for the rest of the world to see that you were…Unwanted. That there was something wrong with you.

There was nothing wrong with any of them. Puzzles that needed to be figured out, pieces that needed to be found. And she hoped they knew they were wanted. They were cared for. They were loved. Maybe not by the people who should have been doing those things. But by someone. By her. 

When they came back to the Boys’ Home, the smell of pot roast permeated the air. Tessa took in a great lungful of the scent and breathed out a sigh. Something like nostalgia and longing hit her in the chest. It was her mother’s recipe, a smell that reminded her of home. Not even just the place, but the feeling. 

“Alright, if y’re homework’s not done hop to it — n’if it is, I need ya t’show it t’me so we can go over it together, alright?” Tessa told the three boys as they ran past her in the entry hall, making a beeline for their shared room with the other two who didn’t get to go out for ice cream. 

All three of them gave some vague noise of agreement before they disappeared from her sight. She laughed with a shake of her head as she walked further into the house.

The Amelia County Boys’ Home was built in 1886 as just a residential home. A grand Victorian settled in the newly established Wabang, Wyoming — then a booming oil town. The house one Walter Granger had built when he and his wife first got married. They were together only five years before he died. Left widowed, with more money than she knew what to do with, and no children of her own, Abigail Granger decided to convert her home into a place for troubled and orphaned children.

By the time the Home was nearing its 100th anniversary, it was bought by the state. Out of private funds and Abigail Granger dead for nearly twenty years. But its legacy was one that permeated the town, the county, the whole state even. Boys were sent from all over for well over 100 years to live and learn there. Boys whose parents couldn’t take care of them for a while, boys with behavior issues, boys who had nowhere else to go.

June Abernathy volunteered there when Tessa was young — before Tessa was born. And maybe that’s what made her youngest daughter fall in love with the place. Or maybe it was some innate sense of caring. Generosity. Charity. That made her want to work there since she was twelve years old. Most kids wanted to be astronauts or work at zoos or be doctors — but not Tessa. The only thing she ever wanted to be was a social worker, before she even knew what the title was. It was her calling. Her destiny. 

Even if that destiny forged some weight on her shoulders that never seemed to go away. Some weariness that had sunk into her bones. One that, most days, she forgot about. But others…But others it became impossible to ignore. Brought tears to her eyes and a pathetic whine to rise in her throat like she was a toddler throwing a tantrum. Because there was never enough time. Never enough of her to go around. To carry around her own and the baggage of five boys whose lives had been harder than most was a burden no one person should have to bear. 

But Tessa did it gladly. Because it was what she always wanted.

Right?

After checking the pot roast, Tessa went to the living room where more clothing donations waited for her to sort and fold. Grabbing the box on top of the pile, she sat down on one of the couches to begin. The background noise of the boys talking, the old house creaking, and birds chirping outside permeated the air. She hoped and prayed, as she grabbed the hoodie from the top of the box, the rest of the weekend would go as smoothly as the morning had. Linda was leaving soon for her days off — it would just be Tessa in a house full of pubescent and pre-pubescent boys. Always a herculean task, one that left her feeling more ragged than usual, but one that gave her time to grow closer to the boys under her care.

Before she could truly inspect the sweatshirt for stains or holes, Levi walked into the room with his hands shoved in his own hoodie pockets. The seventeen year old wore clothes like they were meant to cover something. Meant to hide in. Big hoodies and t-shirts. He was shorter than Colton, pale and all sharp angles. Inside and out.

The cut above his eyebrow was healing well. Just a dark red line now, scabbed over and healing itself, instead of the bright crimson it had been. But the bruise around his eye still looked gnarly. Purple and angry, swelling his lids shut slightly.

Another fight at school that left Linda furious.

But Tessa just felt some heavy weight in her chest.

“Feelin’ okay?” she asked as he flopped down into the armchair across from her.

“M’face hurts,” he grumbled back, revealing a red knuckled hand to card it through his jet black hair. Then he sighed. “N’so does m’head.”

“Wan’some ibuprofen?”

“Yeah.” He paused, finally looking up at her with those spring-grain green eyes. “Please.”

Tessa smiled, small and soft, before she put back the sweatshirt and went to the kitchen. A minute later, she handed Levi a glass of water and two little red pills. He swallowed them without drinking anything.

Sitting back down on the couch she asked, “Wanna talk’bout it?”

“No’really,” he said, clenching his jaw.

Tessa bit her lip. Busied her hands with the donated hoodie again, looking it over for longer than she should but not really paying attention as she chose her next words carefully.

“Principle called ya know. Told me wha’happened,” she spoke gently, calmly, making sure he sensed no anger or disappointment. “That some other kid was gettin’ beat up n’you stepped in.”

Levi wouldn’t look at her. Worked his jaw back and forth as his leg bounced anxiously. He always had been an angry kid. It was why he was at the Home in the first place. Too many fights in his hometown. His single mother didn’t know what to do — didn’t know how to handle him. And maybe didn’t want to handle him. A kid with so much anger, made only angier that no one seemed to care. No one seemed to want to try. To stick around.

Tessa hoped he knew that she wanted to try. Wanted to stick around.

“I wan’you t’know…” she started slowly, “Fightin’ isn’t always th’answer. N’t’be honest, if ya keep it up, y’ll end up someplace worse than a Boy’s Home. N’there won’be anythin’ I c’n do t’stop it.”

He finally looked at her. A hint of fear in that green eye that Tessa hoped sunk to the heart.

“But uh — I am proud’a ya…For standin’ up f’r that kid.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up as he looked back to his lap. Tessa smiled too. 

“Ll’try, Tess,” he mumbled. “I don’...I don’ wanna leave.” 

Some of that weight lifted from her chest as he walked out of the room, back to the boys room. Tessa smiled again, proud of herself for getting through to him, when she finally acknowledge the donation hoodie she had been messing with for the past few minutes.

It was an Amelia County High School Rodeo team sweatshirt. Sage green and faded with time and good use. The sleeves were frayed and dotted with small holes. It had seen a good few years. She grinned as she took in the bucking bronco logo with a cowboy clinging to the saddle. One hand raised in the air with a lasso twirling above his head. 

She thought back to Rhett Abbott, her cheeks warming. 

A group of them snuck down to the hotel pool past their curfew. They were supposed to be in bed, sleeping and preparing for the round of rides and ropings set for tomorrow morning. But that didn’t seem to matter to any of them just then. When it was ten o’clock and they were hours away from home. Their chaperones none the wiser as they snuck out of their rooms in their swimsuits. Giggling and whispering and quietly squealing to one another.

Tessa sat at the edge of the pool, feet ankle deep in the cool water with Taylor Goyer at her side. A fellow barrel racer, two older than her, and one of the team captains. If she was down here with the rest of the delinquents surely it was okay.

Taylor was telling her something about a movie she watched recently. Something about magicians and card tricks and stealing money. But Tessa wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, she was focused on the group of bull riders huddled together at the other end of the pool.

Rhett Abbot was one of them. He was thin and baby faced and his hair was slicked back from the water but he was still handsome. Even in that horrible hotel pool light. He shone with the water still clinging to him, laughing at something one of the other guys said. She had never seen him shirtless before. And it made something stick in her throat that she couldn’t quite get rid of. 

“Who’re you lookin’ at? Dalton?” Taylor broke her out of her revere. 

“Um — “ Tessa shook her head as she looked back at her friend. “No one. Jus’got lost’n space I’guess.”  

Taylor took the excuse with narrowed eyes, jumping right back in and telling Tessa that she should watch the movie she was talking about. And Tessa looked back at Rhett one last time as he grabbed Alyssa Harrod around the calves and pulled her into the pool.

She wondered if he would pull her into the pool now. If he would wrap his arms around her waist and try to pull her under to ruin her hair. She shook her head and scoffed quietly. 

What a ridiculous thought. She was an adult now. Grown out of wanting to be teased that way. But still, some part of her that was still fifteen, wanted it desperately.

With a sigh, she turned the sweatshirt around, and her eyes widened.

Abbott was iron pressed onto the back in block white letters. Most of them were peeled up and fading, but that last name was still clear as day. She remembered seeing that sweatshirt on Alyssa Harrod. On Olivia Barlow. It was a stamp. A seal. A claiming back in high school. They were seeing Rhett Abbott, and all that that meant.

The hoodie couldn’t be a donation. It had a name on it, the boys couldn’t wear it. So, indulging her fifteen year old self just this once, Tessa got up from the couch with the article of clothing clutched in her hands.

And stuffed it into her closet.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

[sebsxphia]

your (my) life with rhett abbott.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ summary: a life with rhett.

￫ word count: 680.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, some angst, children and fluff.

￫ authors notes: this is a collection of daydreams i have about my cowboy husband. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett is a little awkward and shy. For a burly bull rider, when he first asked you out, his thumb moved between each fingernail to pick at it. His hands were twitching with nerves. From a first glance, he simply looked like a man asking a person out. His hands were by his sides and he stood tall.

His father told him to never look small, even though he made Rhett feel so small sometimes.

When you replied with a beaming smile that you would love to go out with him sometime, his cheeks became flushed with a warm pink, that spread over the tops of his ears and down his neck in a hot flush.

He gets grumpy too. His eyebrows knit together in a firm line. His eyes become stone and his eyelids grow heavy. He’ll focus on one particular spot of dirt on his jeans, not baring to look at anything else. He clenches his teeth tightly together and his jaw becomes firmly set.

But, he stands up for himself and what he thinks is right. However, it comes off as him being defensive and angry when really, he’s only trying to protect the things that he loves most. That being the life you’ve built together on your ranch and most importantly, you and your little baby girl.

Bonnie Abbott was born in the early spring. You spent many days in the summer standing on your front porch, with her in your arms and watching Rhett work not too far from your home. He couldn’t bear to spend long periods away from you both, so he always opted to do work closer to your home during the day.

You would hold her chubby little hand and wave it for her, humming in a sweet voice, “Wave to Daddy, Bonnie!”

You watch as your three ranch cats jump from the rooftops and fences of the barn. Your Anatolian Shepherd, Daisy, sits by your feet and keeps a careful and protective watch over both you and Bonnie. Robin, your Blue Heeler, is always quick on Rhett’s heels and trails around behind him, as he works in the hot and sticky Wyoming summer heat. Rhett whistles sharply between his lips and Robin is always quick to follow.

You still live in Wyoming, but you chose your ranch to be two towns over from Wabang. Rhett wanted to distance himself from his family, but he couldn’t leave them completely. He’s still holding onto this deeply entrenched guilt, that therefore causes him to tether to them.

He’s working on it though. He’s working on himself.

He doesn’t deny his mother and father of seeing his grandchild. You go back to visit when you can, but you normally leave after spending the day there. Rhett can only bear so many hours before the familiar and tell-tale signs of his set frown and tense jaw begin to appear. You still go back for occasions such as Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the only two occasions when you, Rhett and Bonnie will stay the night.

His old room is still there. It still comforts him.

You press up against Rhett in his small bed and keep him warm, whilst Bonnie sleeps soundly beside you both in her crib. His room is nearly identical to when he left it, but these small changes with you both now being in there with him, is what gives him the harmony to fall asleep.

You asked Rhett once if he would be gentle with you, as he had your beautiful naked body below him.

“Will you be gentle with me? Please be gentle with me.”

He gave you the love that you so dearly deserved. He calls you his “baby,” his “darlin’”, his love.

He is your dream. He is your cowboy, but a man who needs to be wanted. He needs to feel wanted. He gets so much validation from you, in every way. Emotionally, physically, sexually… And you give that to him without hesitation. He’s so over the moon with you. He’s so profoundly and deeply in love with you.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @sugarcoated-lame @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @floydsmuse @rhettmotel @mearslot @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @castiel-barnes @sandbarbirdie

[withahappyrefrain]

Can you please do meet cute 45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello. For Rhett Abbott?

THIS ONE SCREAMS RHETT!! I'm so glad someone requested it with him!

Rhett Abbott had never felt more ridiculous in his entire life. 

He was told they just needed a few things from the grocery store. Rhett hated going to the grocery store. It meant people and people judged and whispered things about him, regardless of if it was true (majority of the time it wasn’t). 

But the grocery store was on the same street as The Wild Rose, Wabang’s brand new flower shop. And inside was you, the owner. 

Rhett scoffed at the idea at first. There was no way Wabang had enough people to warrant a flower shop. Plus, folks had plenty of land, they could make their damn bouquets if they wanted. 

Apparently people were lazy. It also helped that you sold wine and little knick knacks in addition to floral arrangements. Jars of speciality honey from a local farm, the wine from a nearby vineyard. Dish towels with funny sayings and food related puns. 

It wasn’t a store Rhett would go into, nevertheless pay attention to. But Amy wanted to go and it wasn’t like Perry was going to take her. 

There was a decent sized crowd outside the store, listening to the mayor drone on about how great this was going to be for the town, not just for Wabang but also for the surrounding area. Out of all the places to be on the ‘precipice of an economic boom’, Wabang did not come to Rhett’s mind. 

Before he could roll his eyes anymore, the mayor introduced the owner of the shop, you. 

God, you were beautiful with your bright eyes and dazzling smile as you spoke about how welcoming Wabang had been to you and how helpful when it came to making your dream a reality. Rhett was instantly smittened. 

But he couldn’t just go up and talk to you. For one, you were busy cutting a red ribbon with stupidly giant scissors. 

Second, you were luminous, vivid. Everything he wasn't. 

Rhett knew he didn't offer much, if anything. His life was directionless; all he did was work on the ranch and ride bulls when he could (when his right shoulder wasn't acting up). He would just drag you down. So instead, he settled for the chances he could walk past your shop and peek into the window for a glimpse of you. 

It was fucking pathetic. His family would give him so much shit if they found out. And yet, it was the highlight of his day, seeing you arrange a case, talk to customers. Rhett especially loved it when he caught you giving the floral arrangements to clients. The corners of your eyes would crease and the bridge of your nose scrunched up when you revealed your creation. It also allowed him to linger by the store window, to bask in your warmth for a little bit longer. 

“Do you think they're pretty?” Amy asked one day while they were walking down the street. 

Rhett let out a confused hum, turning his attention from your store window to his niece. 

“The owner. You always look in their window when we pass by,” Amy explained with a giggle. 

“It's just an interesting store,” Rhett grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he began walking again. 

“Then you should go inside!” Amy called out as she ran after him. 

If only it was that easy. 

—----------

Several months later Rhett was now standing in front of your door, rather than your window. 

He should go in. He had zero reason to not go in. Rhett actually required your services. So it wasn't as if he was just going to stroll in there with no plan. Or worse, use Amy as a guise (God, he hated when Perry did that). 

It was just….the thought of being in your presence, speaking to you. Having a conversation. Rhett wasn't much of a talker, never had been. Why would he, when hardly anyone was interested in what he had to say? 

And the truth was, he didn't have to go in. He could figure this out on his own. 

But when would his next chance come along? 

It was the unclear answer that gave him the courage to turn the handle and open the door. 

Your shop felt warm and inviting. One wall was filled with shelves, dedicated to displaying various colorful vases. In the middle, a designated ‘flower bar’ where folks could create their own bouquets. Amongst the store were various house plants and knick knacks. 

“Hi! Can I help you?” A sweet voice caused Rhett to turn around, the air exiting his lungs upon seeing you. 

He could only nod, at a complete loss for words. 

You waited for him, to see if he would expand. When he didn’t, you simply smiled and asked, “What can I do for ya?”

With fumbling hands, Rhett got out the photo from his jacket, “Um…I need help identifying these flowers. They’re the wedding flowers she had and I wanna draw the bouquet as like a….like a gift. Figured it would last longer than getting a bouquet but I uh…I need help identifying them. I wanna look them up so I can get the details right.”

This was going horribly. He should have just bought a magnifying glass off of Amazon or find someone who could digitally restore photos. 

“Do you know where they got married?” You asked, extending your hand out for the photo. 

“Yeah, uh, here in Wabang,” Rhett answered, running a hand up and down the back of his neck, hoping his body was just warm and not turning a bright red. 

“Oh, well that makes it much easier!” Rhett gave you the photo and you motioned for him to follow you to the counter. You got out a book that had a beautiful embossed floral design on the cover.

“I’m glad you know where they got married. It makes it much easier to identify. Also, considering WaBang has hadn’t a floral shop until this year and the nearest one was over an hour away, I’m assuming these are flowers native to Wyoming,” you explained, flipping through the pages. 

You looked up through your lashes, “I can tell you what flowers they are and you can look them up. But am I safe to assume that as an artist, you’d rather have your references in person?”

“Oh uh, I’m not…I’m not an artist,” He mumbled, shaking his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets. A nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break. 

“You’re creating art. Last time I checked, that makes you an artist…..” your voice trailed off, waiting to hear a name. 

“Oh! I’m Rhett. Sorry.” How could he forget to introduce himself? “Yeah, having something I could look at and observe up close would be great.” 

“Well Rhett, I’m more than happy to recreate that bouquet for ya. But I don’t have some of these flowers in stock, so it’ll take some time to order them,” you explained, “Probably like a week or so? If I have your number, I can let you know when they arrive.”

Rhett looked up, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want my number?”

Your nose scrunched up as you nodded, “Yes. I would love to have your number Rhett. Would hate for you to come in and I don’t have what you need.”

Rhett would do it. In fact, he even tried to assure you so. 

“Well, I might need another photo just to ensure I’m accurate. How will I let you know?” You countered. Fuck, you had a great point. 

So Rhett fumbled with getting out his phone, hands shaking as he passed it off to you. 

“I’ll give you my number too if that’s alright. Just so you aren’t wondering who’s texting you.” Your giggle was so endearing, Rhett couldn’t help but smile, couldn’t help but feel his shoulders drop and relax. 

He nodded, a small, slightly lopsided and totally sweet smile, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You handed Rhett back his phone, “I’ll let you know if I need more info! And when I get them in.”

Rhett nodded, secretly (and seriously) hoping he didn’t look like an idiot with how hard he was smiling. 

“I'll uh, see ya around?” He practically asked. You nodded eagerly, saying your goodbyes as he quickly got out of the store. 

Rhett felt like he could finally breathe again once he was out of your store. That went well, right? He had your number, though it was intended to give updates regarding a gift for his mom. But he also had another chance to see you. Granted, once he was done with this project, he wouldn't have a reason to go into your shop. Maybe for Amy’s birthday, he could get her flowers. 

The vibration of his phone broke Rhett out of his thoughts. It couldn't be….could it? 

His eyes widened when he saw your name attached to the text. He nearly dropped his phone when he read your message. 

I'm glad you finally came in! I've been wanting to meet you ever since the store opened :) 

[lewmagoo]

i love that man like nobody can | rhett abbott

part of the million dollar man universe. i strongly encourage you to read the two previous parts before reading this one

description: in which a silver haired cowboy is forced to face ghosts from his past, but learns he doesn’t have to face them alone

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

w/c: 17,242

warnings: 18+ only, set during christmastime but not really holiday centric, age gap (reader 20s, rhett 40s), mentions of cheating and toxic past relationships, encounters with a certain ex-wife, smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, dom/sub themes, daddy kink, overstimulation, subspace, creampie

notes: i meant to have this up before christmas, but life got in the way. i'm very proud of how this turned out, though! don't be thrown off by the description. this fic has some drama but its main focus is the first time darlin' calls rhett daddy

It was finally December, and winter had officially wrapped Wyoming’s sprawling plains in its frosty embrace. 

The sky was clear for the first time since the significant snowfall that had taken place earlier that week. The moon and stars twinkled against a backdrop of black velvet up above, casting their light upon the blanket of white that covered the earth. 

It looked like diamonds.

Surrounded by the sparkling earth was a spacious, yet cozy, cabin, set upon a sprawling plot of land. And inside that cabin, one silver haired cowboy stood by the window, admiring the picturesque landscape that encompassed his home.

He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. In just three short years, his life had changed so much. Now, here he was, engulfed in the warmth of his home, admiring the Currier and Ives-esque view from his window, his heart filled with joy. 

That joy had been brought into his life in the form of one very special person. The one he lovingly referred to as his little darlin’. 

“I’m ready!”

Speak of the angel. 

Rhett turned from the bedroom window, hand idly fiddling with the small steer skull cuff links on his black dress shirt. When he saw you, his eyes seemed to sparkle like the snow he’d just been admiring. 

He could hardly find the breath to speak. “Oh, darlin’. You look incredible.” He was surprised he was able to get the words out. 

Shyly, you ducked your head. “Thank you.” 

He crossed the room, reaching you in two long strides. “I mean it.” Then he reached for your hand and lifted it above your head. “C’mon, twirl for me. Wan’ see everythin’.”

Giggling softly, you allowed him to spin you, and he let out a hum of delight. “Just look atcha. How’d I get so lucky?”

As he slowed you to a stop, you brought your hands up to rest upon his chest. Solid, rising and falling beneath your touch. His heart was beating fast, thrumming against his rib cage. Though his expression bore no sign of it, you knew how nervous he was for tonight. 

A night in which he would receive a very special honor. But Rhett loathed being the center of attention, and he felt undeserving of this honor. He’d much rather enjoy a quiet night in with you than go to an event, and certainly not one that put all eyes on him. 

“Hey,” you spoke, tone gentle. “Don’t get into your head about it. You deserve this award.” 

He sighed softly, lashes fluttering. “I dunno know about that.” 

“You do.” Your hands cupped his freshly shaven cheeks. “It’s a testament to all the hard work you’ve put in.” 

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose against yours. “At least I’ll have you there with me. Makes me feel a little better knowin’ I ain’t alone.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He pulled you back in, initiating another kiss, this one deeper. You found yourself melting into him, warm and safe and secure. He was your safe haven. He made all the noise in your head go quiet. 

Mouth against yours, he spoke, “I love you, darlin’.” Breathless. Chest heaving slightly. 

“I love you more.”

He leaned back slightly, bottom lip caught between his teeth,. His gaze flickered behind you momentarily before he slowly turned you, so that you were facing the full length mirror on the wall. 

“Look at m’beautiful, smart gal. Always know just what to say to make me feel better.” His face bore a look of glowing adoration. 

You could melt at his feet just from that look alone. “I mean every word. You’re a good man, Rhett Abbott.”

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, but I ain’t a good man.” Voice low. Rumbly. One large hand came to rest upon your clavicle, warm against your skin. 

How quickly things could change at the flip of a coin. His hand dropped lower, resting upon your chest, while his other arm snaked around your waist. He ran his nose along the side of your neck, breathing you in, and you shuddered. 

“Hope y’know the only thing gettin’ me through this night is knowin’ I get to take you home with me afterward and do whatever I want to ya.”

That made your knees go weak. 

He kissed the juncture where your neck met your shoulder, and then turned your chin so he could kiss your mouth. Just from that alone, you were dizzy. What an effect he had on you. 

“W-we should go,” you breathed, though you made no move to slip out of his embrace.

“Uh-huh.” His kisses trailed lower, down past your jaw and once again to your neck. He breathed you in, your scent intoxicating to him. God, if he could skip this event and take you to bed, he would. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as goosebumps prickled along your skin. “Rhett.”

“I know.” He turned you in his arms, hooking his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head up so he could kiss once more, deeply, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Unable to resist, you parted your mouth and let him in, tasting mint on his tongue. 

Finally, he pulled away, pupils blown, breath rushed. “Now we can go.”

Dizzy, you watched him cross the room to grab his best hat off of one of the pegs on the closet door. As he placed the hat on his head, his look was complete. Black dress shirt, black trousers, black cowboy boots, the ones he only wore for special occasions. 

His tie was black too, but had understated gold embroidery along the edges. Complete with a tailored black suit jacket, he looked like a million dollar man. And he was all yours. 

He was wildly uncomfortable in his stiff, fancy outfit. Dressing up was his least favorite thing. He would much rather wear a pair of Wranglers and a button down flannel. However, he had to admit, your reaction to him all dressed up did make the discomfort worth it. 

“Look so handsome,” you gushed. “Now let’s get outta here before we end up being late.” Before I drop to my knees right here and suck your dick.

Together, you made your way out of the bedroom and down the hallway, with Rhett announcing he was going to go out and start the truck so it could warm up. He wouldn’t let you sit on a freezing leather seat if he could help it. Your comfort was always his priority, and that was something you loved so much about him. He took such good care of you in ways big and small. 

“Make sure y’ bundle up, windchill’s in the single digits,” he called over his shoulder as he pulled his own coat on.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

He glanced at you as he stepped toward the door, brow raised. “Good girl.”

Oh.

Then he was stepping out of the house, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, head spinning slightly. You’d been with him for three years, married for one of those, and he still had that effect on you.

God, how were you going to survive tonight, watching him walk around dressed like that, the most important man at the event?

Rhett had been presented the honor of receiving Rancher of the Year by the Wyoming Stock Growers Association. He would be presented with a plaque and a gift from the association, and his name would be displayed in the great hall in the Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce. 

You couldn’t be more proud of him. He had been through so much, and had worked so hard. This ranch had been built from the ground up by his own hands, and his blood and sweat was imbrued into its soil.

When you met him, he was already successful and well-established. But there had once been a time when he had nothing, and found himself at rock bottom. His marriage had fallen apart, his wife had betrayed him in the most heinous of ways, and he was on a destructive path that would lead to his own demise if he didn’t pick himself up off the pavement soon enough.

Over a period of several months, he had been careless, throwing himself into bull riding, and because he was so distracted, he had suffered a plethora of injuries. It almost seemed as if he had a death with. But after one too many blows to the head, dislocated shoulders, and broken ribs, it was either walk away from bull riding, or end up getting himself killed.

So he made the decision to lay his riding career to rest, and instead, turned to working with his hands, the one thing he felt that he was truly good at. He worked on a few local ranches, putting in the hours, stowing away as much money as he could. 

After a while, he was able to purchase the land you both lived on now. He started from scratch, and it took him quite a few years to get established. It wasn’t without its fair share of trials and frustrations, but Rhett appreciated the distraction, because if he wasn’t working, there was nothing to take his mind off the fact that he was well and truly alone. 

He tried so hard not to let it bother him. But he was deeply wounded from what he had been through, and although time soothed the ache, he was still filled with a sense of longing. He wanted to share his life with someone. This big, beautiful cabin felt so empty without someone to share it with.

After success came to him, he became one of the most well known ranchers in the state. It was certainly an adjustment after he had grown up on a ranch that his family barely scraped by on, but the financial security was a welcome change.

During this time, he considered putting himself out there and trying to find a romantic partner. There were plenty of women (and men) who were interested in him. He could take his pick of anyone he wanted, but after going on only a few dates, he realized that most of them were more interested in his money rather than him.

So he stopped looking. And the older he got, the more he grew convinced that he would never find anyone to spend the rest of his life with. And then he met you.

He had been enamored from the moment he walked into the diner you were working at. Something about you made his chest ache. Especially when he saw the way you were treated by your boss, and the patrons that came to the diner.

He was simply passing through your town. He had no intention of staying more than a few hours. Yet after he met you, he found himself unable to shake you from his mind. You were so beautiful. Not just your physicality, but your entire demeanor. 

After spending that night talking to you, he couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again. So he got a motel room in the area, and proceeded to come into your diner for the next few nights. He saw how poorly you were treated by your boss and the other patrons. 

And as he got to know you over the next few days, he knew in his heart of hearts that he was meant to take you away from all of it. It was the most spontaneous decision he’d ever made, and perhaps it was slightly foolish to invite a woman he’d only just met to come live with him.

But he couldn’t live with himself knowing he could have done something, and didn’t. So he offered to give you a better life. To whisk you away from all the pain and mistreatment, . And to his surprise, you agreed.

He had no idea that you would soon become the love of his life. The missing piece to his puzzle. The best thing that had ever happened to him. 

Rhett changed your life. He treated you with kindness and understanding, provided anything and everything you could ever need, and made you feel safe. For the first time in your life, it seemed, your body was no longer in a constant state of fight or flight. You could finally rest.

Now, three years later, you were his wife, and you had never been more at peace. 

You were overjoyed that you could be part of Rhett’s life. He felt the same about you. Gone was the feeling of all consuming loneliness, replaced with a feeling of warmth and security. He had a purpose, and that purpose was you. After all the hardship he had endured, he welcomed this more relaxed time of his life. For his suffering, he had been rewarded with a tender hearted soul who loved him deeply. He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

Now here you both were, all dressed up and ready for a night that was all about Rhett and his accomplishments. 

“Y’ready, darlin’?” His voice drew you out of the reverie you hadn’t realized you’d slipped into. Thankfully you’d had the sense to shove your feet into your snow boots and tug your coat on while you were reminiscing. 

“Yep!” You held your dress shoes in one hand, intending to change into them once you got to your destination. You weren’t about to trudge through ice and snow in your nicest shoes. 

“C’mere.” Rhett stopped you as you came to the door. He reached out, taking the time to button your coat for you. It brought a smile to your face, and warmth to your heart. 

Then he leaned in to kiss your nose. “There, that’s better.” He guided you out onto the porch, and closed the door behind you both. He’d already put ice melt down so the front steps and the walkway weren’t slippery, but just in case, he led you to the truck anyway, prepared to catch you if you slipped on a patch of ice he might’ve missed. 

Once you were safely seated in the warm cab, he came around to his side and climbed into the seat, letting out a sharp breath as he shivered. “It’s s’damn cold. My old, achin’ bones ain’t made for this weather.”

“Oh yeah, because you’re so ancient,” you teased, settling back once you had your seatbelt fastened.

“Baby, I’m pushin’ fifty. I damn near feel ancient,” came his grumble as he threw the gear into drive and began the trek down the long driveway.

“You don’t look a day over forty-eight.” His actual age.

“Ha-ha.” An exaggerated fake laugh, but you could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he truly was amused.

You leaned across the console to kiss his cheek, and he smiled, reaching over to squeeze your thigh. 

As comfortable silence settled between you both, you took it upon yourself to turn the radio on, fiddling with the dial until it landed on a holiday music station.

Christmas was only a few short weeks away, and you were in a very festive spirit. It was your second Christmas as a married couple, and you were so eager to spend the holiday with him, and continue the traditions you had started the year before. 

You had restored Rhett’s love for the holiday season. What used to be a difficult time for him had turned into something magical, all because of you. 

His favorite thing was cozying up by the fire with you after a long day, with the Christmas tree lights twinkling in the background. It was heaven on earth. 

And now you were singing along softly to carols on the radio, and he couldn’t help but smile, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You brought so much wonder to his life. 

Although he was anxious about receiving the award that night, he also felt a sense of calmness, brought in by your presence. You were always his saving grace. 

And as he embarked on the hour-long drive into Cheyenne, you traded easy conversation, taking the time to get his mind off his nerves for a little while. 

But all too soon, he was pulling into the parking lot of the Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce, and his heart quickened a little in his chest, muscles tensing. 

Why was he so damn nervous? It wasn’t that big of a deal. All he had to do was go up and accept the award, and say a few words of thanks. He’d done many more stressful things than that in his lifetime. 

“Hey.” Your voice drew him from his imminent spiral. He turned his head to look at you, and you offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I love you.” You kissed him sweetly. 

“Luh you too,” he hummed against your mouth. Then he killed the engine and moved to climb out of the truck. 

Breath puffing in clouds around his head, he quickly rounded the front of the vehicle and came to your door, which he opened and reached his hand out to guide you down to the parking lot. 

Hands intertwined, you walked toward the building, shoes crunching on stray pieces of melting salt. Even through your coat, the frigid wind managed to bite at you, sending shivers down your spine and pushing you to snuggle into Rhett’s side. 

He held you close until you got to the doors, which he stopped to open for you. You rushed inside, quick to wipe your boots on the entryway mat before you glanced around for a place to hang your coat. 

To your left was a small coat hallway, where you shrugged out of your outer layers and placed your boots neatly beneath the rack, stepping into your nicer shoes. 

When you turned back toward Rhett, he reached out, fingers wiggling, silently asking for physical contact. You slipped your hand into his palm, and he managed to give you a smile before you both walked out into the main lobby area. 

The place was decorated quite elegantly for christmas, with a large christmas tree in the middle of the room, and lighted garland framing all the windows. Soft music played over the speakers; classical versions of well-known Christmas carols. 

A good amount of people had already arrived. Other members of the Stockmen’s Association. Presidents, vice presidents, and representatives alike.

“There he is, the man of the hour!” A voice called out, and you both turned to see Leo Riesen, vice president of the Amelia county branch, approaching. He smiled widely and shook hands with Rhett, nodding his head toward you in greeting. 

“Hey there, Leo. Merry Christmas,” Rhett answered.

“How you feelin’ about the award?” The man asked, mirth lighting up his sharp green eyes.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I feel undeservin’ of it.”

Leo simply shook his head, scoffing good-naturedly. “Oh, quit bein’ humble. You of all people deserve it! Ain’t that right, Mrs. Abbott?” He turned to you, and you nodded without hesitation. 

“Oh yes! I might be a little biased, but if anyone deserves it, it’s him!” Came your eager reply as you reached over to squeeze Rhett’s bicep lovingly. 

“See?” Leo swiveled toward your husband again, flashing another thousand watt smile. “Your wife knows what she’s talkin’ about.”

And thus began a night of socializing. Rhett was not a fan of small talk, or social situations in general. He felt very out of his element, especially with so much attention focused on him. But you being by his side made it more bearable. 

Although he wasn’t the most comfortable in this environment, you certainly couldn’t tell. He was practically glowing, it seemed. Smile bright, eyes glimmering. He was approached by so many people, mostly members of the Stockmen’s Association, and he handled himself with grace and humility, though his cheeks were slightly pink from all the attention. 

You marveled even at yourself, because you remembered when you’d first begun attending events with Rhett. Your relationship was still so new, and you were not yet confident in who you were. 

You had faced scrutiny from some of the other ranchers’ wives. Luke Tillerson’s wife in particular has singled you out and claimed that you were merely a phase for Rhett. A way to soothe his loneliness. She insisted he was only interested in you because you were young, and he would soon grow tired of you. 

Back then, you had been so hurt by her words. You hadn’t possessed the guts to stand up to her and defend yourself and the man you loved. 

You’d come so far since then. Now, you were secure in yourself, and in your relationship with Rhett. After all, you were the one who made him believe in love again, after fifteen years of thinking he’d never experience it. 

You had the confidence to stand up for yourself, and for him, if need be. 

But you had no idea that you would, in fact, need to do so that night. 

Unsuspecting, you made the rounds, staying close to Rhett’s side, and putting your two cents into each conversation when necessary. Little by little, the room began to fill with guests. Other members of the association and their spouses, friends of Rhett, but most importantly, his mother.

When he saw her, his face lit up. “Hey, Momma. You made it!”

“Well of course I made it! Wouldn’t miss seein’ my boy get his award!” She exclaimed as she lovingly squeezed his hand. Cecilia was well into her seventies, but still just as spry (and stubborn) as ever. Rhett had purposely told her not to make the trip if she felt that the weather was too cold for her to go out in, but she had insisted she would be in attendance, weather be damned.

“Hi there, honey,” she turned to you, her smile wide, as she reached out to pull you in for a hug. “It’s good to see ya.”

“You too,” came your reply, returning her embrace. You were grateful to have a mother-in-law like her. Over the time you’d known her, you’d grown quite fond of her. She had told you many times that she was so glad that her Rhett had found love again. It meant so much to her that you made him so happy.

“Well, I s’pose I’ll take my seat. Talk to you both afterward,” Cecilia continued, excusing herself to the seating area, lined neatly with folding chairs.

“I’m so glad your mom could make it,” you told Rhett, smile playing at your lips. “She’s so proud of you.”

You were met with silence when he didn’t reply, and you turned, speaking his name. However, you noticed that he’d gone tense beside you, shoulders drawn toward his ears. 

His gaze was fixed on something, or someone, across the room.

It was the shock of long, dark hair that caught his attention. From where she stood, her back turned, he couldn’t see her face, but even so, he knew who it was.

After all these years.

Your voice drew him back to himself. “Rhett, honey, what’s the matter?” Gentle hand on his back. Grounding him. 

He took a breath, eyes still focused across the room. “I…” Before he could even offer an explanation, she turned, confirming what he already knew. 

The woman who’d betrayed him so long ago, forsaking the marriage vows she had made to him. Maria. 

She hadn’t seen him yet, it appeared, as she was still in the middle of the conversation. But surely, she knew he’d be here. What was she doing here at all? He had been to many events for the Association, and had never seen her at any of them. 

Beside Rhett, you followed his gaze, which landed upon a woman. Pretty, with dark hair cascading down her back. She appeared to be close to Rhett’s age. When you looked back at him, his face was stricken, as if he’d seen a ghost.

You’d never seen a picture of Maria. But judging by your husband’s reaction, you knew that this had to be her. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “that’s her, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” Rhett managed, mouth dry. 

Beside her stood Jackson Riggs, first vice president of the Stockmen’s Association. He looked up, and saw Rhett. A smile crossed Jackson’s face as he pointed to Rhett, and Maria’s attention shifted to him. She had an excellent poker face, but for a split second the discomfort in her eyes was clear.

Rhett had gone rigid as a board, watching as the pair approached. His chest was tight, and an uncomfortable feeling washed over him. He hadn’t spoken to her since their divorce had been finalized. That was sixteen years ago. He should have been over it by now. Seeing her again should not have this much of an effect on him.

Yet as she approached, his heart rate quickened. Unsure of what to do, you reached for Rhett’s arm, placing your hand against his bicep. A silent show of support. You were going to follow his lead, because you didn’t trust yourself not to go off on this woman.

It was jarring to see her for the first time. After all Rhett had told you about her, you had developed a deep disdain for the woman. You didn’t like to use the word hate, but that was exactly how you felt about her. 

He had given you the full story. Laid it out one night, early on in your relationship, as he sat on the living room floor with you. Told you how he’d come home after an out-of-town rodeo to find his wife in his bed with another man. And not just any man, but his own brother.

It had utterly destroyed him. Not only had that moment marked the end of his marriage, but it had irreparably damaged his relationship with his brother. You had seen the pain in his eyes when he recalled that incident. Even so many years later, it was still raw and real. 

Hearing that story had filled you with an all-encompassing anger. You didn’t understand how someone could be so cruel as to go behind the back of the person they loved. And with their sibling, no less. 

Seeing the cause of your husband’s pain sent pinpricks of rage through you. But you remained poised at his side, waiting to see how he’d react, and how the conversation would go. 

“Rhett Abbott!” Jackson spoke out, voice carrying. “Good to see you!”

Rhett cleared his throat, trying not to appear shaken. His lashes fluttered, and he cleared his throat, trying not to stare at Maria. “J-Jack. Uh, good t’see you too,” he managed to answer. Your grip on his bicep tightened slightly, letting him know you had him.

“Mrs. Abbott,” Jackson greeted, nodding toward you. Beside him, Maria’s eyes widened, but she quickly hid her surprise. Jackson stepped back slightly, motioning to the woman. “This here’s my wife, Maria.”

It took everything in you not to react.

Rhett tried to appear calm and collected, though he tugged slightly at his collar, as if to loosen it. How the hell was he supposed to react to the information he’d just been told? 

“Nice to meet you, Rhett,” Maria interjected, but the tightness in her smile showed no friendliness. 

You could no longer force your own smile. In fact, you were certain you were staring daggers at the woman now. Who did she think she was, acting as if she didn’t know Rhett? It was clear her husband had no idea about her connection to him. She hadn’t told him the truth.

A bitter taste filled your mouth. You realized you were biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood.

“You…you as well,” you heard Rhett say, but his voice echoed through your head, as if he was far away.

If Jackson noticed anything amiss, he didn’t acknowledge it. He simply continued talking, congratulating Rhett on his award. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at Maria. You could not believe her audacity. 

She seemed nervous under your intense gaze. As if she was afraid you’d say something. You wanted to so badly. But you also didn’t want to make a scene and add to Rhett’s stress, merely five minutes before he had to stand in front of everyone. 

So you held your tongue and made nice, for his sake. 

“Well, guess we’d better get to our seats. Nice seein’ ya,” Jackson finally said, ending the very brief conversation. He’d been droning on about something that you had not listened to a single word of. 

Maria seemed relieved to get out of the situation. 

At your side, Rhett let out an unsteady breath. For a moment, he was transported back to that night, when it all fell apart. How was it possible that it felt like it had happened only yesterday, but also like one hundred lifetimes had passed since then?

“Are you okay?” Your voice brought him from the precipice of a spiral. 

“I…I’m fine,” he answered. 

The ceremony was about to start. You could not discuss the situation the way you wanted to. That would come later. Instead, you reached up and gently turned his face toward you. “Hey.”

His eyes met yours, and he let out a soft breath. “I’m alright, darlin’. Promise. Just didn’t expect to see her here. I didn’t even know she was married to Riggs. I mean, what are the fuckin’ odds?” He was in disbelief, and he felt so out of sorts. Entirely unprepared to stand before everyone. At the same time, he hated that this had thrown him off so badly. He should have been able to shake it off. But he couldn’t.

There was so much more you wanted to say. But everyone was making their way to their seats, and the room was beginning to quiet down. Whatever you said would be heard, and once again, you didn’t want to cause a scene.

So, instead, you ducked forward to kiss him softly, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “She doesn’t get to ruin your night. You’ve worked too damn hard to let that happen. Go up and accept that award and show her that what she did to you didn’t stop you from becoming one of the most successful men in this state.”

He managed a grateful smile, nuzzling his nose against yours. There was no time to say anything else, as it was time to move to your seats. You intertwined your fingers with Rhett’s and the two of you made your way to the front row of chairs. Coincidentally, that placed him directly next to Maria, who was seated beside her husband.

How you were going to remain composed this entire time, you weren’t sure. You forced yourself to keep your gaze fixed forward and focused on what was happening on the small stage in front of you.

The night began with Winston Haynes, the president of the Stockmen’s Association, stepping up to the podium. He went through the preliminary introductions and recapped how the year had gone for the association. 

Your interest was piqued only when he spoke your husband’s name. “As you all know, every year, we honor a local rancher who is part of the association. This rancher is someone who shows great respect to the land. Someone who has an admirable work ethic, and loves his community.”

He paused, glancing out at the modest crowd, before continuing, reading off of his prepared notes. “Rhett Abbott was born and raised in Wabang, Wyoming. He grew up as a ranch kid, but didn’t establish his own ranch until a little later in life. Since then, he has built a very lucrative business, known as Abbott Ranch. Not only is he an excellent cattleman, but he’s also very involved in giving back to the community.”

Listening to him list Rhett’s achievements helped take your mind off of the woman currently sitting in your row. Instead, you found yourself welling with pride, and you gripped his hand again, allowing yourself to revel in the joy you felt for him.

“Tonight, we want to honor Rhett with the title of Rancher of the Year.”

Applause erupted across the room, with you clapping the loudest, beaming from ear to ear. Rhett ducked his head, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention, but he stood anyway, reaching the podium in a few easy strides.

Winston turned to him, wide smile on his face. In his hands was a plaque, etched with Rhett’s name. “Congratulations, Rhett. You, of all people, most definitely deserve this award.”

Rhett graciously accepted the plaque, shaking Winston’s hand. A photographer for the local newspaper instructed them to pose, just before Rhett stepped forward to speak into the microphone. 

“I can’t begin to say what an honor this is. Thank you for choosin’ me, I don’t feel worthy of it, but I’m thankful. Thanks to everyone who’s been in my corner since day one. Don’t think I would’ve started this ranchin’ business if it weren’t for everyone who came alongside me and helped make it happen.” Then his gaze shifted to you, and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Most importantly, thank you to my wife, for believin’ in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

You pressed your hand to your heart, nodding at him, tears welling in your own eyes. “I love you,” you mouthed.

Once again, the room erupted into applause, and a moment later, Rhett stepped off the stage and made his way back to you. His shoulders fell slightly as he sat down, relieved that moment was finally done. But the stress was far from over, as you would soon find out.

Winston continued on his spiel, and then Jackson, the vice president, walked up to say a few words. Following him, a few other members of the association spoke, launching into agriculture jargon that you didn’t necessarily find interesting.

The program was actually quite brief, and it wasn’t long at all before it was time to move on to the second half of the night, which was a time of socializing, along with hors d’oeuvres and various assortments of Christmas desserts. 

As everyone stood from their seats, the room filled with the low murmur of voices. Snippets of conversations carried across the room as people made small talk. 

You found yourself tucked against Rhett’s side, ignoring the fact that Maria was still nearby, hoping that Jackson wouldn’t try to start another conversation with Rhett and involve his wife again. If you had to watch her continue to pretend she didn’t even know Rhett, you were certain you would go off on her.

Rhett’s mother came to bid him goodbye and express how proud she was of him. Several others who were members of the association stopped to congratulate him. And for a little while, it seemed that perhaps there would not be another encounter with Maria. You would be perfectly content if you didn’t have to put on a front and pretend to be nice to her for the rest of the night.

The anger you felt was an odd sort of feeling. You were not one for overt, public displays of emotion like that. But you had come a long way from the timid girl you used to be. In the beginning, Rhett had gone to bat for you. He’d defended you when you were mistreated in your workplace, after only knowing you for a few days. He came to your aid when Luke Tillerson’s wife had upset you. He’d stood up for you through it all. 

But now, you had come into your own. And while you still had a long way to go, you were nowhere near as insecure and frightened as you once had been. Rhett had built you up and helped you learn how to be sure of yourself. 

It was a wonder what being in a healthy, loving relationship could do for one’s self-esteem.

Your love for him ran deep. You were so grateful for all he’d done, and how he’d changed your life. In some ways it translated into this protectiveness toward him. After learning of all the pain he had endured, you would do everything in your power to ensure he did not suffer through it again. 

So when Jackson Riggs and his wife Maria approached Rhett once again that night, you raised your hackles. 

“Congratulations on the award,” Jackson praised your husband. “You’ve done a lot for the community. Y’should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks,” Rhett answered. He was less jarred than he’d been when he first saw Maria, but it was still surreal. 

You remained at his side, eyeing the woman, and you noticed something. She wouldn’t look at him. Her eyes kept flickering this way and that, focusing on everything else but Rhett. 

Something about that sent fire through you. And it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Why won’t you look at him?” 

An unfamiliar boldness washed over you. The edge to your tone surprised even yourself. 

Maria startled slightly, dark eyes widening. “E-excuse me?”

“Rhett. Why won’t you look at Rhett?”

She offered a nervous smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay,” Rhett eased. 

“No. It’s not okay.” You felt compelled to say your piece. “Look at him, Maria. Stop acting like you’ve never met him before.”

Beside her, Jackson looked confused as could be. “I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at here, Mrs. Abbott. My wife’s never met your husband before.” 

“With all due respect, she has.”

Maria blanched. “No, I-”

“Don’t. You don’t get to do that, not after what you did.”

Rhett made no move to stop you. In fact, he was very interested in what you had to say. 

“Please, let’s not do this here,” she tried to reason. She looked wildly uncomfortable. It only served to piss you off more. 

“You should have thought of that before you walked in here and acted like you’ve never met this man. You have a lot of nerve, you know that? Coming here tonight, knowing he was getting this award.”

“I didn’t know,” she defended. “Really, I didn’t. Not until a few days ago. Jack and I just got married last month and this is the first time I’ve been involved in one of these events.”

Jackson turned to his wife, eyes narrowed. “Will someone explain to me what the hell’s goin’ on?”

Maria clamped her mouth shut, as if unsure of what to say. 

You folded your arms across your chest. “Go ahead. Tell him how you betrayed Rhett.”

“I…” Her eyes grew tearful, and she shook her head. “That was so long ago. It shouldn’t matter.”

Shocked, you stared at her for a moment. 

“No, you don’t get to do that. Rhett might’ve moved on from what you did, but I didn’t. He told me everything. How you went behind his back. How you broke your vows and cheated on him with his fucking brother. And you want to come here and act like you don’t know him? Like he just simply forgot what you did to him?! No, that’s not gonna fly with me.” 

Jackson’s face was slack with shock. “Maria…is that true?”

You noticed she still refused to look at Rhett. She nodded her head, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and ruin her makeup. “It’s true,” she whispered. “I-I know I should’ve told you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t tell him you’re sorry. He’s not the one you cheated on. Tell Rhett.” You stepped forward slightly. “Look at him, Maria. Look my husband in the eye and tell him you’re sorry for cheating on him with his brother.” You were so fucking angry. You wanted her to pay penance for what she’d done. For breaking Rhett’s heart and spirit. 

“I don’t—”

“You never did apologize.” Rhett spoke for the first time. Maria finally managed to look at him. “After everythin’. I never got so much as a “I’m sorry” outta your mouth. You blamed everyone else. First it was fuckin’ Perry’s fault. Then it was my fault, because, what, I wasn’t home enough? I was always off at the rodeo? As if that gave you the green light to fuck another man in our bed.”

“Jesus Christ, Mar.” Jackson was not handling the news well. 

“No matter how many times I was away from you, I never looked at other women. Not once. Because I knew you were waitin’ for me at home, and I’d never go behind your back like that.”

Maria was floundering. “That was fifteen years ago, Rhett.”

“Sixteen,” you corrected, tone sharp. “Coming up on seventeen, actually. You owe him an apology for everything you did. So give it to him, Maria. Apologize.”

Bottom lip quivering, she forced herself to speak again, knowing she could not talk her way out of this situation. “Fine,” she managed, regret clear on her face, “I’m sorry, Rhett. I-I was so wrong to do what I did. I’ve regretted it every day of my life since then.” 

The air between you went still. Quiet. 

Rhett’s shoulders sagged. 

You lifted your hand to rest it reassuringly against his back. Waiting for him to speak. To decide if he would accept her apology. It was his choice, not yours. 

“Thank you,” was all he managed, voice gravelly, full of unspoken emotion. There was no I forgive you. 

Jackson sighed, clearly embarrassed by the whole situation. “I should apologize, too. I promise you, I had no idea about any of this. I think I’ve been played for a fool,” It was clear he had much to discuss with his new bride. 

“I’d say you have,” you agreed. Then you looked at Maria again. “But maybe I should thank you, in a way. Because if he hadn’t left you, I never would have met him. I love this man the way he deserves. And I’ll defend him ‘til the day I die.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, you wondered if she was even truly sorry at all, or if she was simply sorry she got called out. Either way, she was speechless. 

“Again, I’m sorry. We’ve got a lot of things to discuss,” Jackson was the one who broke the tense silence, glancing ruefully at his wife. “I wish I would’ve known about this sooner. Could have saved us all a lot of embarrassment.”

“You didn’t know,” Rhett stated, “simple as that. But it’s over an’ done with now. If you’ll excuse us, m’ wife and I are gonna head home. Good luck figuring all your shit out. It ain’t my problem any longer.”

With that, he gently took hold of your arm, and guided you away from the dismayed couple. The small shock of adrenaline and boldness you’d felt when you went off on Maria was beginning to fade, and now you felt just a little embarrassed. But you did not regret sticking up for Rhett, not one bit. 

“I-I’m sorry, maybe I-” 

“We’ll talk about it outside,” Rhett told you as led you to the coatroom. 

You didn’t say anything more, focusing on getting your coat on and changing into your boots. You couldn’t read your husband’s expression. Was he upset with you for confronting his ex-wife? Had you embarrassed him? 

These thoughts plagued you as you sauntered out into the frigid night, and you worried that maybe you’d overstepped. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted you to say anything. Maybe he’d been content to just pretend he didn’t know Maria, as she’d done to him, and carry on as if everything was fine. 

As you walked to the truck, the silence drove you to speak again, because you simply could not take it any longer. 

“Rhett, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have— oh!”

In an instant, he grabbed you, swinging you around and pushing you (carefully) against the door of the truck, his hand at the back of your head to keep it from bumping the window. You gasped in shock, and barely had time to register what was happening before his mouth was on yours in a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. 

Heat gathered in your belly, traveling through your extremities, down to your fingers and toes. Almost instantly, you relaxed, tension melting from your body in waves. 

When you parted, your breathing was labored, and your head was spinning. 

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Rhett breathed, chest heaving slightly. His eyes were narrowed, lips parted. 

Still trying to gain your bearings, you said, “it wasn’t too much?”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, darlin’. Maria needed to hear all that comin’ from someone who wasn’t me, and you were the best person for that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was worried that maybe I overstepped. I don’t ever want to embarrass you. Least of all tonight, of all nights.”

He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Y’didn’t embarrass me one bit. I’m glad you said somethin’. I felt like a goddamn idiot, just starin’ at her. Kinda didn’t know what to say. You’d think, after all these years, I would’ve thought about what I might say to her if I saw her again. But then you took all the words right outta my mouth.”

“Well I just couldn’t get past the audacity of pretending she was meeting you for the first time. That made me so mad, I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore. After what she did, I wasn’t about to let her act like nothing even happened.” 

Rhett kissed you again before he spoke. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. Watchin’ you stand up for me…” he trailed off, his face only inches from yours, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Honey, you have no idea how sexy that was. I was watchin’ you the whole time, just amazed. You’re hot when you’re pissed.” He finished his words with a grin, though there was a huskiness to his voice.

Your heart fluttered within your chest, mouth going dry suddenly. “O-oh,” was all you managed, breathless. 

His expression grew desirous, and he ducked in nice and close, hands against the truck, bracketing either side of your head, caging you in. “You looked like one of them hissy, spittin’ little kittens.” Another kiss, this one deeper, more salacious. 

When his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, allowing him access. Your knees went weak, and you whimpered into the kiss. 

Reluctantly, he broke away, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Here’s what’s gon’ happen, darlin’,” he drawled. You had to process his words for a moment, your head fuzzy. “I’m gonna take you home. Then I’m gonna get you outta this pretty little outfit and make love to your cute body all night long. You deserve a reward for bein’ so good to me.”

You whined softly, nodding your head. It was as if your ability to speak had left you completely. That was the effect Rhett had on you. It was a wonder how you could go from angrily telling off Maria, to melting under your husband’s touch no more than ten minutes later. 

“Let’s go home.” He guided you into the truck, and once you were safely inside, he came around to his own side, and within seconds, he’d started the truck. Hurriedly, he turned on the heat, letting the interior warm up a bit before he pulled out of the parking lot, relieved to be leaving this stuffy event. 

As he turned onto the main road, you leaned over the console, head resting upon his shoulder. If you were being truthful, that whole altercation with Maria had zapped your energy. Funny how something like that could affect you so much. 

You’d been harboring that anger toward her for a while. And when you saw her, it boiled over like a kettle left on the stove for too long. 

But you did not regret the confrontation. Not one bit.

And now, you were the one that got to go home with Rhett, not her. You were going to end up naked in his bed that night. Not her. He was all yours. And always would be.

Perhaps, along with your anger, a fiery sense of possessiveness had washed over you. And maybe, just maybe, you had wanted to flaunt the fact that he was your man, and you loved him like no one else could. 

And as you reflected on that, you found yourself nuzzling closer to Rhett, mouthing at his neck, breathing in his scent. Spicy and earthy and slightly sweet, from both the cologne and the aftershave he wore. But then there was that underlying scent that he naturally possessed. An almost musky, manly scent that could only be described as Rhett. You swore you could get drunk off that scent.

He pervaded all your senses. All you could see, smell, hear, taste, feel, was him. And god, it drove you wild.

“Whoa there, darlin’. Be patient now, ya hear? We’ve still got a while before we’re home,” Rhett reasoned with you. You hadn’t realized you’d started trailing your hand along the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to his cock, hidden by his well fitting trousers. 

He was certainly not opposed to messing around while driving, however, he wanted to get you home so he could truly take his time with you. He didn’t want a rushed hand job in the car, he wanted to worship you. 

But you whined softly, sucking on his neck, tongue soothing over the heated skin. “I wan’ you,” you mumbled, rather pitifully.

“I know. An’ you can have me. After we get home.” 

But you kept suckling at his pulse point, and your hand kept traveling higher, and you made the prettiest little sounds, your neediness driving you. You were testing him. Seeing if he’d stop you. 

He gasped softly when you gently grasped his dick through his pants, hips shifting slightly. But the hand that wasn’t on the wheel came to rest heavily upon your own, and in a quiet, stern voice, he said, “I told you to wait.”

There was something so commanding in the way he said it. It made you draw your hand away from him instantly. “Sorry.”

He lovingly squeezed your thigh to show you he wasn’t upset. “Just you wait ‘til I get you home, honey. Gonna lay you out and fuck you nice an’ proper, the way you deserve.”

You knew he would fulfill that promise. Your belly filled with butterflies as you pictured what was to come. As of late, you had been exploring some new things. Delving into kinks you had not tried before, yet found yourself interested in. 

Rhett was very good about taking things at a slow pace. He knew what he liked, and had already experimented with a lot of things over the years. For you, however, it was different. You had been much less experienced than he was when you met him. You had been with a few people, but had never truly been satisfied. 

No one had cared enough to take the time to learn every inch of your body, so they could bring you the most pleasure imaginable. No, Rhett was the only one who had done that. He was the only one who cherished your sexuality and submission. Who saw you as a person, rather than an object for his own pleasure.

And when he’d first brought you home to the ranch, his intent had not been to get you into his bed. In fact, he resisted sleeping with you at all for the first six months of living together, because he did not want to make you feel pressured, after all the negative experiences you had been through.

In fact, you were the one who had initiated sex in the beginning, because you wanted him so badly, and yearned to experience that intimate connection with him.

And oh, how much you had learned since then. You had been expanding your sexual escapades and trying new things. You let Rhett introduce you to the different desires and kinks he had, and you had become rather comfortable expressing your own needs and wants to him. He had worked with you on that. He knew how important communication was, and he was adamant that you were open with each other.

As of late, you had begun to delve into the realm of dominant and submissive roles. Naturally, Rhett was the dominant one when it came to sex. It was how you preferred it, and he assumed that role with ease. But you had only just begun to partake in more intense and involved scenes.

You had never known what true release could feel like until he guided you through one of those more drawn out scenes. It was the first time you had ever entered into that floaty, euphoric state known as subspace. There was something so raw and beautiful about that experience. 

And tonight, he planned to bring you there again.

When he finally pulled into the long driveway that led up to the house, you were squirming in anticipation. You knew that once you crossed over the threshold into your home, that you could turn your brain off, and give him full and complete control. No more worrying about stuffy rancher’s events or conniving ex-wives.

All you had to focus on was being his obedient little girl.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” Rhett shut the truck off and then quickly climbed out into the chilly night, coming around to open your own door for you, large hand grasping your own to guide you down from the truck.

Together, you hurried up the porch steps, and Rhett swiftly unlocked the door, stepping aside for you to head into the inviting warmth of the house, with him following suit seconds later. He shut the door behind him, blindly reaching for the light switch beside the door, which soon bathed the entryway in soft light. 

Normally, the first thing you did after coming inside and getting settled, was head into the living room to turn the Christmas tree lights on. But right now, you were rather distracted. 

You could already feel yourself slipping into that more submissive headspace. Something that was a bit new for you, with your recent and more involved exploration of the dynamic. But you welcomed it like you might welcome a warm hug. 

It was new for Rhett, too, as he was just beginning to grow accustomed to your tells. He noticed that your eyes would go a little unfocused. Your posture would change. You would become more clingy. Not that he minded, of course. He loved watching that shift in your demeanor. It filled his chest with warm, protective vibes.

You had discussed these things extensively before you even started participating in this dynamic. Rhett made sure every base was covered, because he wanted this to be a good experience for you. He wanted you to feel safe and comfortable. And you, in turn, wanted that for him. 

It was all built on trust. You trusted each other implicitly. And there were safeguards in place, for both of you. 

You were still learning as you went. All your likes, dislikes, things you wanted to try, so on and so forth. The possibilities were endless, it felt like. But there was one thing you were still uncertain of. And that was how to address him.

Oftentimes, you found yourself calling him Sir during these scenes. Yet it didn’t feel quite right. It didn’t roll off the tongue. Didn’t suit him. In your mind, you knew of the perfect title. The name that encapsulated everything he was. A title that was not only rooted in kink, but also in trust and reverence. 

But you hadn’t spoken the name yet. Despite all you had done together up to this point. How deep into subspace he’d coaxed you. That title? Daddy. 

Perhaps it was partly because there was a little part of you that was embarrassed. Shy. Despite the fact that you had no reason to be. But you had not discussed the title with him yet. You hadn’t found the right time to bring it up. And yet, it was always on the tip of your tongue when participating in kink settings. One day, you would slip up and say it, you were sure of it. 

How would he react? Would he tell you not to use the name? Or would he revel in it, and encourage you to use it again and again? 

You would soon find out. 

“C’mere.” His voice, velvety and deep, was suddenly in your ear. You were brought back to the present as he knelt down before you, gaze earnest. “Up.” He lifted your leg, carefully tugging your boot off your foot. Then, he did the same for the other one, leaving you standing in your stocking clad feet, staring down at him.

That quiet act of dominance made your brain go a bit haywire.

Then he rose to his full height and eased your coat from your body, taking the time to hang it in the hall closet before he turned back to you. At some point, he’d already removed his own boots and coat. Huh. You must’ve been daydreaming when he did that, as you had no recollection of it happening. 

Then he was crowding your space, solid and steady against you, hands moving to rest upon your hips. “Look at me.”

Your gaze flickered to him. 

“I wan’ take care of you tonight. Show you how proud I am, how much I love ya.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Be a good girl and go up and get ready for me. Clothes off. Make sure you’re on your knees.”

You replied affirmatively. Or rather, you tried to, but your mouth was loose around the word, and your head felt as if it was filled with cotton. Somehow, you managed to verbalize your answer in the end. “Yes sir.”

You turned, and on unsteady legs, you made your way to the staircase. Rhett watched you ascend the steps, and while you went up to ready yourself for him, he took a moment to get into the right headspace.

He took his role very seriously. Your submission was precious to him. A sacred, priceless gift that he deeply cherished. Seeing you embrace that part of yourself was one of the most beautiful things he had ever had the privilege of witnessing. 

He had to enter into the proper headspace to be able to handle that gift in the way that you deserved.

He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. He pictured you, so obediently doing what he’d instructed. Removing your clothes. Lowering yourself to your knees, ready and waiting for him. So perfect. All his. 

He rolled his neck, releasing the tension in his shoulders. Letting the day’s stressors melt away. Pushing it all aside. Now, it was time to focus on you. 

He let a few moments pass, giving you adequate time to prepare. Then, he climbed the stairs, passing through the hallway until he reached the end, where your shared bedroom was. As he crossed the threshold, he was pleased to find you waiting for him, kneeling at the foot of the bed. 

The sight took his breath away. 

You lifted your head as he walked in, eyes following his movements. Silent, waiting for him to take the lead. You watched him as he crossed the room. He took his time, shrugging out of his jacket, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. 

All the while, you remained on the floor, naked.

He stepped toward you, appraising you. His hand came down to cup your cheek, and you immediately melted into his touch, body going lax, eyes fluttering shut. Giving yourself to him. 

“Look at you. M’ perfect little darlin’.”

Your heart sang at his praise. 

Hand still against your cheek, his thumb traced over your bottom lip. Wordlessly, you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit, holding eye contact with him as you did so. 

His eyes narrowed slightly, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Oh, how eager you were. 

“What do you say if you want me to stop?” He asked. 

You pulled off of his thumb to answer with your safeword. “Appaloosa.” 

He hummed, satisfied with your answer, fingers lovingly stroking your cheek. Here, you were level with his crotch, and you found yourself reaching up, pawing at him through the fabric of his pants. 

For a moment, he watched you, enamored. His breath caught in his chest when you leaned forward, rubbing your cheek against him. 

“Can I play with it?” You so sweetly asked. 

It took him a moment to find his words. “‘Course you can.” He made quick work of unbuckling his belt, followed by the button and zipper of the pants. He pushed the fabric, along with his underwear, aside, before he freed his hardening cock. 

“This what you want? Hm?” Gripping the base in his large hand. 

Your mouth watered at the sight. He was so deliciously thick. 

Eagerly, you leaned forward, gently taking hold of him, feeling it grow harder in your palm. You offered a tentative lick to the very tip before you wrapped your lips around it, humming in delight. 

Rhett gazed down at you, in awe of your reverence. Your mouth felt so good around him, and the sounds you made as you took him further, little gums of delight, made him shiver. 

“Fuck, honey. Y’got no idea how good that wet li’l mouth feels on me,” he murmured as you inched your way down. You pulled back to swirl your tongue up and down his shaft, and he grunted, hips jolting slightly. “Yeah, fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you love it.”

"I love it,” you gasped, mouthing at him, hand still stroking. “So big, makes me so…” You trailed off as you drooled all over him, in a world of delight. 

"I know it. Makes you soakin’ wet, don’t it? If I let y’keep this up, that cunt of yours is gonna start dribblin’ all over the damn floor, ain’t that right?” He was well aware how needy you got when sucking him off. 

“Mhm.” You took him in your mouth again, inching down, down, down. He was fully hard now, and you had to widen your jaw further to accommodate him. 

He placed his hand on the back of your head, not pushing, but gently guiding. You were determined to take all of him, and he wasn’t going to stop you, but he was going to monitor you to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself to take more than you were ready for. 

He always liked to ease you into it, no matter how many times you’d done this, because he was hyper aware of your comfort, and would never push you further than you could handle. 

But you wanted all of it, and moments later, you found yourself with your nose pressed against his pubic bone, against the gathering of coarse, neatly kept hair. You swallowed around him, and he hissed, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut. 

“Christ.”

You wished you could stay that way longer, just from his reaction alone. Oh, how you loved to pleasure him. But you had your limits, and you soon had to pull back to breathe. 

As you did so, however, you brought your hand up to wrap around him, stroking his spit slick shaft, kissing along the side, humming at the taste of him.

“I love your cock,” you confessed, sounding entirely drunk already. What an effect he had on you. 

Rhett grunted softly, reaching out to run his knuckles over your cheek. You were so good for him. So willing to please.

You took him down your throat once again, relishing in the way your mouth stretched around him, how it was almost difficult to take him, but not so much so that it was painful. You felt like such a cock drunk whore, but how could you resist him when he made the most salacious sounds as your throat constricted around him?

It filled you with pride to know you were the one who elicited those sounds from him. The heat of possessiveness bloomed in your chest, and as you pulled off him to catch your breath again, you vocalized it. “Mine,” you murmured against him, kissing along the underside of his shaft. 

You heard him hum deep within his chest. “Oh, honey. You feelin’ possessive, huh?” He cooed. 

“Uh-huh. Mine, all mine.”

“Y’got that right. S’all yours.” It came out as a growl, and it made you whine softly, vibrating with need.

You were so fucking turned on, shivers ran through your body. You shifted, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You could feel your own arousal, slick between your legs. Rhett watched you, and the way you were rutting your hips against the air, and he groaned lowly. He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to take you right then and there.

“C’mere.” He hauled you up, gently shushing your whine of protest. “I ain’t finishing down your throat, as much as I want to. When I come, it’s gonna be inside this pretty pussy.” His hand trailed down the front of your body until his fingers met the place where you needed him most.

His mouth curved into a delighted smile, the blue of his eyes darkening with desire. “Darlin’, you’re soaked.” He teased you with a featherlight touch, gathering your slick on his middle and ring fingers. Your knees almost buckled as he brushed over your sensitive little bundle.

Then he was lifting his hand and examining the sticky sheen of your arousal on his fingertips. “All this just from suckin’ my dick for a few minutes, huh?” 

You simply nodded in agreement, unable to speak. You burned with need for him, to the point where it clouded your brain, and you could not find it in yourself to be even a little embarrassed at your desperation. He loved that you didn’t try to hold back. He had always encouraged you to be confident in your desires, and he was so pleased that you were.

“Get on the bed for me.”

You complied, turning to climb onto the plush king-size bed. As you settled, you watched him unbutton his shirt, shrugging out of it and carelessly dropping it on the floor. His pants and underwear were pulled the rest of the way down his legs, and soon, he was just as bare as you were, cock bobbing heavily as he stepped toward you.

He was breathtaking. Naked as the day he was born, body decorated with both tattoos and scars from his youth. Markings that each held a special origin story. All of which he’d told you during the countless nights you lay in bed with him, tracing the scars and ink.

You were still riddled with disbelief over the fact that he was yours. This strong, determined, loving, gentle, beautiful man had pledged himself to you, ‘til death did you part. Oh, how lucky you were. 

“Look at me.” His voice, low and smooth as velvet, swirled around you like the heady smoke from the hand carved pipe he liked to puff on every evening. 

Your eyes flickered up to his. A gaze so intense you feared you might disintegrate beneath it. He climbed onto the bed, maneuvering his body over your own, straddling you, cock brushing against your abdomen as he moved. 

He was so big above you. You might even say imposing, if you didn’t feel so safe and protected with him. He was broad. Deceptive strength hiding within the sinew of his being, from years of intense physical labor.

God, you wanted him to consume your every sense. Wanted him inside you, surrounding you, body warm and steady against yours, scent filling your nose, moans filling your ears. You wanted it so badly that you were growing impatient.

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically, wanting to be filled. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips, trying to coax him to slip inside you. But he had other plans.

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, little darlin’. Ain’t gotta rush.”

“But I–”

“You’ll get it, I promise. But let me take my time with y’ first, wanna enjoy my baby.”

He wanted to worship you the way you deserved. So he began his descent, kissing you languidly on the mouth, tongue delving past your lips, tasting you, relishing in the whine you let out. When he pulled back, your mouth was spit slick and your eyes had gone a little unfocused. 

With a delighted smile, he continued on down, kissing your chin, then trailing down the column of your throat, teeth lightly scraping at the skin, soothing over it with his tongue. God, he was addicted to the taste of you. 

“Could just eat you up,” he murmured against you. 

Your hands found their way to his hair as he went lower, kissing along your chest, down your abdomen, down, down, down until he reached your thighs. There, he settled, large hands gripping each of them as he kissed the delicate skin along the inside. 

He peppered little love bites there, and the sound of your breathy little gasps and moans was music to his ears. He loved your body. He loved making you feel good. And he always felt a swell of pride, knowing he was the only man who had this privilege.

There had been a few others before him, but you had confessed that they had no idea how to pleasure you. They hadn’t brought you to the heights of bliss that he had. They had been poor lovers, unconcerned with your own desires. Careless. 

He had shown you how good it could be. And now that you’d gotten a taste, you couldn’t get enough. Neither could he. Even though time had passed, he was still just as enamored with you, if not more so. 

“Gonna make you feel so good, honey,” he lulled, as his fingers carefully parted your glistening folds. “S’what you deserve.”

He gazed up at you through hooded eyes, gauging your reaction as he offered a tentative lick, tasting you, teasing you. You were breathtaking above him, body undulating in anticipation of what was to come, chest heaving. Even as you hands remained in his hair, fingers threaded through the silver locks, you showed no instinct to steer him, to force him to hurry, despite the fact that you did want instant gratification. He’d told you not to rush, and you would obey, just as you always did.

Murmuring soft praises, he lowered his eager mouth slowly into the honeyed warmth between your thighs. And oh, how messy you were, dripping down his chin as he licked into you, savoring in the heady taste. His hands held fast at your thighs, forcing them wider apart.

Let me in, pretty thing. My sweet baby.

Jus’ relax, yeah? Lemme eat this pussy for a while.

You obeyed his commands, which were muffled against your cunt, letting him devour you as he saw fit. You let out the sweetest little squeak of delight, and he couldn’t help but smile against you, wanting to draw more of those sounds out of you. So unashamed of your pleasure, wanting him to know how good he was making you feel. 

He buried his face even further between your legs, mouth lapping at your wet folds, intoxicated with the taste of you, uncaring if he came away with his mouth soaked. That was what he wanted, after all. The messier, the better.

You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut as you lost yourself to the feeling of his mouth against you. He noisily slurped at you, humming in satisfaction. As always, he got just as much pleasure out of this as you did.

When you lifted your head to gaze down at him, he locked eyes with you, and finally wrapped his lips around your neglected bud, sucking firmly, listening to you cry out his name, growling when your fingers tugged at his hair.

Your back arched off the bed, body engulfed in the throes of warm bliss, fizzing through your bloodstream. 

Eager to hear you call his name again, he flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes fixed on the way your head rolled back, chest jutting out, heaving in time with your labored breaths. 

Yes, right there, don’t stop.

He sucked on your clit until your legs began to tremble around his head, muscles involuntarily twitching as you lost control of some of your motor functions, brain clouded with desire, experiencing a sensation that was out of body, not of this world. 

If he kept going, you knew you’d quickly fall apart. But as you began to grind against his face, he pulled back away, burying his nose against the apex of your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, a sharp contrast to the pleasure you had just been feeling.

The way you sobbed into the open air made him shiver, driving him to continue, determined to draw that beautiful sound from you again. 

He soon brought his fingers into the mix, teasing you with them, dipping them inside you, groaning softly at the feeling of your velvety walls, which would soon be clasped around his cock. 

But first, he had a different idea. 

You deserved as many orgasms as you could handle, after what you’d done tonight. And he was determined to give them to you. Starting with one on his tongue. 

So he dove back in, fingers still inside you as he began to swirl his pink tongue around you. You kept one hand in his hair, but the other flew out to the side, gripping at the quilt beneath you.

You were losing yourself, he could tell. Gone was your restraint, replaced with unabashed moans and whimpers, growing all the more desperate for release as time went on. He loved when your reservations went out the window. When you let yourself succumb to that sexual energy thrumming through your body. 

As you trembled above him, he hastened his ministrations, free hand pressing against your lower abdomen, anchoring you, palm warm and familiar against your skin. 

“Give it to me, honey,” he pleaded against you, curling his fingers within you, coming in contact with that spongy little surface deep inside you that made you see stars. “C’mon, wan’ this pussy to squirt all over my face.”

You knew it would happen, too. Before Rhett, you had been convinced that you couldn’t experience such a thing. But he had quickly proved you wrong. Now, neither of you could get enough. He loved drawing it out of you. Watching your release soak the sheets.

“Sh-shou–should g-get a towel,” you managed to stammer, barely able to find your voice, searching for the words in your brain, as if you’d suddenly gone dumb. But you were still aware that you were going to make a mess.

Rhett didn’t care. “I’ll clean it up,” he promised, gasping against your dripping cunt, so eager to taste you, to be soaked by you, molten gold, shimmering against his skin, the evidence of the affect he had on you.

Your tight little hole fluttered with the need to be filled, swallowing his fingers in, yet in need of something more, something bigger, to be joined as one with his body and his soul.

So he upped the intensity, tongue lapping at you, mouth sucking on your poor, thrumming clit, urging you on, silently begging you to let go. Come for me, fuckin’ soak me. 

And you were there, cresting that peak, climbing higher, higher, higher, until, “Oh! I-I’m–” But the words died in your throat as your body went taut, moments before deep tremors wracked you, overwhelming you as you unraveled like a spool of thread in his skilled hands.

Instinctively, he buried his face deeper, lapping your release from you, his rounded nose pressed against your oversensitive little bundle. Addicted to your taste. Pleading for more, encouraging you to give it all to him.

“There ya go. Taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

God, he was still going. Fingers and tongue keeping speed, not giving you any reprieve. Even as you came down from the intensity, vibrating, shaking, gasping. You had to push his head away as the pleasure became too much, like a fire left unattended, consuming its surroundings. 

He relented, pressing a delicate kiss to your still twitching clit before lifting himself, biceps flexing as he brought his body to hover over you, dragging his wet mouth up your belly, over your heaving breast. 

When he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his tongue. And when he parted from you, he smiled at your fucked out gaze, big hand coming up to brush over your forehead, stroking your warm cheek, as he cooed at you.

“Such a good girl f’me. Think you can give me another one?”

You nodded.

“Uh-uh. Words, baby. Talk t’me.”

“Y-yes.” God, you could barely speak. Why did your head feel as if it was filled with cotton, your brain as useless as a stuffed Build-A-Bear’s? All you knew was that you wanted more of Rhett. More of his touch. More of bliss he could provide you with. More, more, more.

He smiled. “Yeah?” His hand skimmed down your tummy, fingers exploring, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I wanna make y’feel good. Make this pussy come as many times as she can handle. How’s that sound?” His voice caressed you like black silk.

Could you truly handle such a thing? You were no stranger to overstimulation, but somehow, something felt different about tonight. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But you felt much more…vulnerable, in a way. And now, as your husband lingered over you, so broad and solid and strong, you felt so small, so…what? Fragile? Perhaps.

Yet you found yourself saying, “o-okay.”

He hummed, thumb brushing over your cheek, then your parted lips. “That’s m’girl. You tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

Then he was pulling away, and suddenly, the lack of contact had you whining in protest as you were robbed of his warmth, of his contact.

“Hold your horses, darlin’. I’m just gettin’ situated.” He moved so that his back was against the headboard, and then he patted the space beside him, which you eagerly occupied. He tugged you close, so that you were pressed against his side, once again consumed with his warmth. It brought you such comfort.

He arranged you exactly how he wanted you, with your head resting on his shoulder, your thighs parted, offering him a clear view of your glistening apex, swollen from your previous orgasm.

As he brought his hand down to rest there, you realized he intended to use his fingers to bring you to your end a second time. Yet you glanced over to find his cock achingly hard, resting against his hip, and you made a forlorn sound of longing.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry,” he assured you, “remember, I wanna take my time with you.”

You thought you might die if you didn’t get him inside you soon, but at the same time, you wanted to be in the moment and thoroughly enjoy the reverence he wished to bestow upon you.

So you let your head loll against him, watching through hooded eyes as his thick, yet somehow still elegant, fingers began to swirl over you. Teasing, running along the outer edges of your pussy before delving in further, smearing your arousal over the delicate skin there.

He was delighted at how wet you were. All for him. All because of him. “Who made y’this wet?”

“You.” A whisper. Barely audible.

“Louder.”

“Y-you.” Your voice cracked. 

His fingers brushed over that bundle again, and you hissed softly. “Still can’t hear you.” Teasing. Knowing full well what you had said, but wanting you to repeat it nonetheless.

“You did!” A cry that echoed throughout the bedroom. 

He turned your face with his free hand and kissed you languidly, just as his fingers dipped inside you again. The broken moan that was ripped from your throat was swallowed by his eager mouth.

He wasn’t rough, because he knew you were still sensitive after coming on his tongue. But he was deliberate, knowing also that you needed a little more to bring you over the edge a second time. This one didn’t come as easily. He would have to work for it. But that was the beauty of it, because after this one, your body would let its guard down, and your sensitivity would allow him to draw orgasmic bliss from you much more easily.

His fingers worked you over, having mapped out your body long ago. Sometimes it felt as if he’d memorized you down to the marrow of your bones. As if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

It was why he knew you could handle this. Why he soothed you as you cried out against his mouth, assuring you that you could give him more, that you were his good girl and good girls always do what they’re told.

Yes, you could be good for him. You wanted to be. You were desperate to be. “I can be good! I-I-I promise!” You heard yourself gasping into the air, but your voice sounded so far away, so disembodied, as if you were speaking from somewhere far away and not from Rhett’s king-size bed.

“I know you can, I know it,” he assured you, his heart rate quickening in his chest as he watched you. Your eyes were unfocused again. You were practically drooling. And the way you were clenching around his fingers had his cock twitching. 

“Please, please, please.” You had no idea what you were pleading for. He was already giving it all to you. But you were suddenly so overwhelmed, body hot all over, tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you convulsed in his arms, breath coming out in short bursts.

You were clutching his arm, fingers digging into his flesh, sure to leave indents, though you were hardly aware of it. Too focused on that building flicker of pleasure, so much more intense than the first, almost unbearable. Too much and just right and not enough, all at once. How was that even possible?

Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop. Right there. 

You weren’t sure if you were saying the words, or merely thinking them. But then his voice was in your ear. “I can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. You’re close, ain’t ya baby?” But you couldn’t utter a vocal confirmation. You could barely even nod your head. 

“Give it to me.”

Almost there.

“That’s it, just let go.”

So close. You could reach out and grasp it if you tried, like a delectable fruit ready to be plucked from a tree. Yet it wouldn’t descend upon you. Not yet. And with each passing moment, as his fingers carried you toward the crest and your body became a live wire, you were beginning to spiral.

The tears that had been gathering in your eyes poured down your cheeks. Hot against your skin. It wasn’t merely a state of pleasure he was bringing you to. This was ethereal. Otherworldly. 

And then he was there, in your line of sight, mouth curled in determination, eyes hard-set. “Come.”

And you did. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, gaze locked with his, you tensed, as if your body was preparing for the onslaught it was about to experience. And then you were free-falling, tumbling down, down, down, ears ringing, heart hammering, crying out incoherent half-sentences as you were consumed.

You had no recollection of blacking out, but when you opened your eyes, you were cradled in Rhett’s arms as he gently rocked you back and forth. “I’m here. I’ve got ya. Did so good for me. Fuck, honey, you’re perfect. My best girl. My perfect darlin’.”

God, you were crying. Tears continuously streaming down your cheeks. And oh, how you shivered as you curled into him, burying your face against his chest, seeking out his warmth, his solace.

His fingers skimmed along your spine. Grounding you. Bringing you back to him. Back to your Rhett. He was not shocked at your tears. He was used to them, as they fell during most intense scenes.

But now, it felt different. You clung to him more desperately, body melting into his, as if you wished to become one with his flesh. One body, one spirit. And in your hazy state, you did not want to part from him. The thought of doing so was devastating. Unfathomable. 

“I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

Had you pleaded with him to stay? Maybe you had, in your delicate state. Don’t leave me. I’ll be good.

He’d never leave you. And certainly not when you were like this, bottom lip quivering, wide eyes looking up at him as if he’d hung the very sun, moon, and stars in the sky.

He held you close, lips against your forehead, fingers drawing patterns against your skin. You had no idea how long you remained that way. It could have been five minutes. It could have been fifty minutes. All you knew was that when you looked at him, he was gazing down at you with eyes so full of love.

“Hey there. Y’alright?”

“Uh-huh.” Your tongue felt like lead. 

He smoothed his knuckles along your cheek. “That was a lot. I dunno if you’re ready for more,” he admitted, unwilling to push you too far. It was never, ever his goal to push you to the point of safewording. 

But your eyes suddenly grew wide with alarm, and you gripped his arm. “N-no! Still need to make you feel good.”

“I’m alright,” he assured you. He could take care of it himself, if need be.

But your face crumpled, and you shook your head. “No, please, I can take it, I want…I need…” You couldn’t form the words. All you knew was that you were desperate to be filled by him, and the thought of going to bed empty was more than you could bear in your fragile state.

“Hey now,” he spoke, low and slow, as if speaking to a skittish horse. “Don’t cry, sweet thing. If you want more, I’ll give it to you. But we’re gonna take it slow, alright?” He kissed your nose. 

“A-alright.”

This time, he kissed your lips. And then, gently, he guided you until your head was resting against the soft pillows. He made sure to provide constant physical contact, knowing you needed it.

As he laid you out, he looked down at you with sparkling eyes, admiring you, and your willingness to do whatever he asked of you. 

Eagerly, you parted your legs, pulling at his shoulders, urging him toward you. But his movements were not hurried. “Easy,” he gently warned. His hands glided down your thighs, squeezing lightly. 

Wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, he leaned over, haphazardly reaching into the nightstand drawer to retrieve a small bottle of lube. As overstimulated as you were, he had no desire to bring any discomfort into the mix. He would use the whole damn bottle of lubricant if he needed. 

He warmed it against his palm before he slicked it over his shaft, and you whimpered pathetically as you watched him, yearning for it to be inside you. 

How were you so desperate? As if you hadn’t just experienced two earth shattering orgasms. Yet here you were, near tears, pushing your hips up, seeking him out. Why wouldn’t he give it to you? Couldn’t he see you were aching for it? 

You were losing yourself. “Please. Why won’t you…why can’t I have it?” Still tearful. If you hadn’t been in such a delicate headspace, you would have responded much differently to his hesitance. But here and now, you took it as denial. That he didn’t want you. That he was going to withhold it from you because he thought you couldn’t take it. 

And the thought of that made you crumble. 

You heard him, the low rumble of his voice, soothing you. And you felt him. Cock heavy against you. Sliding over you, aided by the extra lubricant. But it was not inside you. You still remained empty. And you simply couldn’t stand it. 

You didn’t mean to say it. If you’d been more lucid, if you’d had more decorum about you, you would have been so embarrassed. But it tumbled off your lips so naturally, you didn’t register it until it was too late. And even then, you were vaguely aware of what you were saying. 

“P-please, Daddy. Wan’…wan’ your cock.” 

Rhett stilled above you, breath hitching in his throat. You were pawing at his chest, seemingly unaware that you’d even said the word. You’d never called him that before. Though, admittedly, he was fairly certain he’d heard the beginnings of it times before, when you were in the throes of pleasure. D-da— sir!

This was not something you had discussed. However, hearing you say it felt like the most natural thing in the world. The name settled into him, and it did not feel foreign. In fact, it felt familiar. Comfortable. A role he was always meant to take on. 

So he did not balk when you whined it into his mouth, asking so sweetly to be filled by him. He knew reacting would be very jarring for you, and would take you out of the moment. So he simply went with it, trying the name out, testing how it felt rolling off his own tongue. 

“Yeah? Poor baby. Need it so bad. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna give it to you.” It felt natural. As if he’d spoken his own given name. 

He continued to use it for the rest of the scene. 

As he began to inch his hips forward, he kissed you sweetly, humming into your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

And then you could feel the pressure of the blunt head of his cock pressing into you, and you squeaked softly, eyes fluttering shut. Finally. Your fluttering cunt gave no resistance as he inched into you, but the stretch was still there, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

Rhett watched your anatomy accommodate him, never one to grow tired of the sight. “Poor little pussy can barely take me,” he murmured in mock concern.

“Y-yes I can. Don’t take it away. Please, Daddy.” There it was again. That sacred title.

Oh, you sounded so pitiful, it made his heart clench in his chest. He ducked forward, mouth brushing over yours. “Hey now, I’m not gonna take it away, I promise.” Then his hand was resting against your clavicle. “Deep breath for me.”

You obeyed, taking in a slow breath before releasing it. He was bringing you back to yourself. Back to him. Keeping you from spiraling.

“What’s your color, baby?” He asked. During moments like this, he preferred to use a color system, so he could gauge where your headspace was at.

You had to search for the word in your head. It almost felt as if you were sifting through a dream, trying to return to consciousness. You heard yourself reply with, “g-green.”

He smiled, lovingly trailing the pad of his index finger over the slope of your nose. “Good girl.” Then he was kissing you again, tongue delving into your mouth, swallowing your sweet little moan as he continued to nudge his hips forward. 

It was always the initial stretch that got you. Almost too much, yet somehow just enough. He was always careful. Always calculated. Never intending to hurt you by going too fast before you were ready.

But it was not always easy to hold back. Especially now, when your body was so responsive to him, so ready to take every last inch as deep as you could.

The warm, wet slide of your cunt along the length of his hard cock sent him forward, face buried against the side of your neck, mouthing at the delicate skin over your pulse point. 

“Oh, Daddy.”

Good lord, you would be the death of him if you kept addressing him like that. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d like it. Hadn’t even thought about it until now. But you said it so sweetly, so reverently, and he knew it was going to stick from here on out.

“There y’go,” he spoke lowly as his body became flush with yours, every inch of him seated within you, still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

And the way you looked up at him? He swore, he’d die. Wide eyes, furrowed brow, quivering mouth. “I-I did it. I took all of it. I’m good. I’m good for you.”

His heart clenched in his chest. “Yes you are, sweet thing. So good for Daddy. M’best girl.” With the shock of pleasure that was already creeping along the expanse of his spine, he knew he wouldn’t last long. Not when you were so sweet and good and perfect for him. A precious gift bestowed upon him from heaven above.

He bent low over you, arms braced against the bed, as he began to move. Drawing back slowly, carefully. Easy there, little gal, easy. 

As he thrust forward, a sob tore from your throat, but he drank it down eagerly, mouth over yours, swallowing you up. As he built a rhythm, your hands began to wander, eager to feel him, muscles rippling beneath your touch.

Rhett hissed sharply as fingernails scraped down his spine, over his broad shoulders, sure to leave the evidence of your tryst in the form of pink stripes. Markings he would wear proudly once he was finished with you. 

But your hands soon climbed higher, fingers raking through graying locks. If you hadn’t been in such a hazy state, you might have marveled at how it looked like a silver halo around the crown of his head. 

Instead, you were distracted by the fact that you were close once again, warmth blossoming in your lower abdomen as your cunt pulsed around your husband’s cock. He moaned deep within his chest, driving forward again, deeper still. Knocking the breath from your very lungs with how full he had you feeling.

“You’re already close, ain’t ya baby?” He spoke, voice strained, barely contained. 

You nodded, eyes wide and glimmering with tears once again. You looked so innocent beneath him, and he should have been ashamed to admit what that did to him. Instead, he fed into it. “Don’t worry. Daddy’ll get you there.”

He knew you wouldn’t need a lot to get you there. He was quite certain you wouldn’t even be able to handle his fingers against your sensitive little pearl, so instead, he opted to grind deeply against you, the course gathering of hair at the base of his dick offering just enough stimulation to send you reeling.

You swore you saw stars, and your eyes rolled back in your head, body shuddering beneath him as if you were electrified. 

“Daddy, I-I’m g-gonna–!” You couldn’t get the words out. They were stolen from your mouth, fizzling out, dissolving into thin air.

Your belly tensed, muscles trembling, perspiration beginning to shimmer across your skin as the beginnings of your third orgasm spread through your body. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, nails leaving crescent shapes. You cried out, head thrown back, mouth open, sobbing, begging, pleading.

“That’s it, darlin’. Be a good girl and let go for me. I’m right behind ya.”

It wasn’t like the first two crescendos of bliss you had experienced. This one washed over you slowly, sneakily, like a thief in the night, one that you didn’t realize was there until it was already upon you. And then you were engulfed in comforting heat. Not fiery flames, but a warm embrace. 

Rhett’s mouth found your own again, kissing you, swallowing the pitchy sounds drawn out of you by your orgasm. Sweet little whimpers of “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”

God, it felt endless. Ebbing through you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Flowing in tandem with your life force. Bringing you to new heights of bliss. “That’s my good little darlin’. Comin’ so much for me. Little pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.” He was mere seconds from meeting his own end, so intense he could feel it vibrating through his jaw.

In the midst of your own frenzy, you could hear yourself begging him. “Daddy, please. Please come inside me.”

And then he was burying his face against your neck, teeth biting into tender flesh, hands grasping your hips tightly in his large palms. He was spiraling, unable to stave off the inevitable as you pulsed around him, milking him for all he had to give, letting him make a mess of your already sticky cunt. 

A sleepy, delighted smile spread across your face at the feeling of his seed flooding you, claiming you, marking you as his. 

He braced himself above you as he came down, arms trembling, trying not to rest his full weight against you. Aftershocks sparkled along his spine, pulling shudders from him as he took a moment to catch his breath, mouth hot and open against your collarbone.

As he came back to himself, he lifted his head, his first instinct to check on you, to take care of you. “Hey there, sweet thing. Y’still with me?” Fingers caressing your cheek.

Your eyes were still unfocused. “Uh-huh,” you managed.

Slipping right back into that dominant role, he leaned back a bit, fully examining your face. Sweat dampened your forehead, and more tears shone in your eyes. “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.” soothing his palm over your forehead. 

Ever so gently, he eased his softening cock from you, and you whimpered, not wanting to be apart from him. But he pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you, cradling you against his chest.

You clung to him tightly, as if you were afraid he’d float away from you if you didn’t hold on. All the while, he talked to you in a steady, even tone. Coaxing you down, as if you were a kite he was guiding out of the sky. He’d never let you fall to the ground, for his hands would be there to catch you before you did.

“Did so good f’me. Beautiful baby. Did so good for your daddy.”

Daddy. That seemed to draw you back to the present, and your eyes widened as clarity dawned on you. “I…I’m sorry. Know we didn’t talk about it, but I…” You couldn’t get the words out. Could barely form a coherent thought. Yet embarrassment had begun to seep through the cracks, despite the fact that you had nothing to be embarrassed over.

“Shh, don’t you start spiralin’ on me, honey.” His hand rested at the base of your jaw, keeping your gaze fixed upon him. “You listen here. If callin’ me daddy is somethin’ you wanna start doin’, I’m more than okay with it. Honestly, hearin’ you call me that…it really did somethin’ to me. If…if that’s what you need me to be for you, then that’s what I’ll be.”

Relief flooded you. “Really?”

“Really.” He kissed you softly, lovingly. “You’re my darlin’, I love you more than words can express, and I want to be everythin’ you need.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Oh, I love you. I love you so much.”

He held you even closer, closing his eyes as he relished in your body against his. “My perfect girl. Always gonna be whatever you need.”

Looking back, you would feel a little silly for being afraid to give him the title of Daddy. But for now, you were laden with endorphins, an almost dopey smile on your face as you basked in the afterglow, and in the realization that you no longer had to hold back the address. You could utilize the title whenever you wished.

And he would assume that role with ease, wearing it like a well-fitting glove. Natural. Familiar. Right. Just like he’d so easily assumed the role of dominant. And oh, how skilled he was at it. 

It didn’t end after your tryst in the sheets was over. No, it continued as he carefully laid you out against the bed, with whispered promises of cleaning you up, of taking care of you. And as you faded in and out of a blissful, floaty state of mind, he handled your body with tenderness, wiping you clean, fingers massaging taut muscles, rendering you boneless.

He praised you continuously, assuring you that he was proud of you, that you were always so good for him. Beautiful, perfect, angelic. 

And oh, how grateful he was to have you to look after. Someone he could bestow his tenderness upon. Someone who loved him so wholly and completely. Although he had endured much pain to get to this point, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. It had all shaped him into the man he needed to be. The man you needed him to be.

He had a lot of regrets in life, but you were not one of them. He was reminded of that when he witnessed you stand up for him that night, unleashing your contained fury on the woman who had broken him. And he was able to stand there and watch in awe as you did so, his heart no longer in pieces, but tenderly put back together by your gentle hands. 

And as he tucked you into bed that night, after making sure a clean quilt was in place, he was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Whoever had decided to bless him with your presence, whether that be God, or the universe, or some other greater being, he was forever indebted to. 

You often liked to say that he’d saved you, but that wasn’t true. In reality, you had saved him. You had given him a purpose. A reason to go on. And he would cherish you for the rest of his life.

“I love you, little darlin’.” 

“Luh you, Rhett,” you sleepily murmured as you curled into him. He smiled, his eyes blurring as a wave of tears washed over him.

He was yours forever. His soul was knit with yours for all eternity. In the next life, and the next, and every life in between, he would always be yours. Your protector. Your provider. Your million dollar man.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors DNI!

Synopsis: When a guy won't leave you alone, you ask the pretty cowboy at the bar to pretend to be your boyfriend.

WC: 2900

Warnings: not much? this is mostly just fluff :) fake dating, mentions of harassment/guys being creepy, mentions of alcohol and drinking, flirting? like one mention of sex, i feel like that gif of rhett should be a warning

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally decided to write it (: kinda feel like it's a bit shit but please enjoy, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ♥

*

*

“Hey, honey!” Rhett hears a sweet voice call out through the dimly lit, noisy bar. He senses a figure approaching to the left of the barstool he’s sat on, hand freezing halfway to his mouth as he goes to take a sip from his bottle of beer.

It takes him a moment to realize that you’re speaking to him, his confused expression meeting your hopeful, smiling one. He checks behind him for somebody else, but nope, there’s no one there — you’re definitely talking to him.

“Uh…hi? Do I- do we… know each other?” Rhett places his beer down on the bar, wincing as he asks the question; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten a woman that he’d met in this very bar and drunkenly hooked up with. And that situation never usually ends well for him.

You’re very pretty — beautiful, actually — and Rhett decides right then that he definitely doesn’t know you. There’s no way he’d ever be able to forget a face like that.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as you step a little closer to him, and though you’re still smiling, within the newfound proximity Rhett can now see a frazzled, almost pleading look in your bright eyes as you go to speak again.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask, your voice lowered to a level that only he can hear.

“Uh…” Rhett’s confusion is written all over his face, from his brows that furrow adorably to his gaping mouth.

Your own expression turns sheepish as you realize how silly the question sounds, and you’re quick to intercept and elaborate for him.

“There’s a guy over there,” you turn away from Rhett slightly and nod your head subtly to your left and catch a glimpse of the drunken stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone. “He’s been trying to hit on me for the last thirty minutes. Can’t seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.”

Rhett follows your gaze and sees a man sipping a beer and staring at the two of you from the other side of the bar.

“So… I told him that I was waiting for my boyfriend.”

When he meets your eyes again, he can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, but Rhett can sense that little hint of fear in your eyes and the worry in voice. And, though he doesn’t know you, he feels his protective instincts kick in.

You can see the change in his demeanor almost immediately, shoulders squared as he sends the other man across the room an intimidating glare that you don’t think you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.

But, when Rhett’s gaze returns to you, his blue eyes soften and his lips turn up just a bit. He gestures to the empty stool next to his and you take the seat with a sigh of relief and a grateful smile.

“If I’m gonna be your boyfriend, then I guess you should know my name. I’m Rhett.”

Your own shoulders deflate in relief that this kind stranger — Rhett — has agreed to help you, a genuine smile now forming on your lips as you introduce yourself as well.

You’re not entirely sure what made you choose him, but for some reason you found yourself drawn to the pretty cowboy sitting alone at the bar and drinking a beer. And, you’re glad you did.

He’s even prettier up close — little curls peeking out beneath his Stetson hat, adorable button nose, and his eyes captivating pools of blue, intense in their gaze that’s now focused on you. His voice deep and rich, and oh-so soothing.

“You new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” He’d definitely remember if he had.

You nod your head in confirmation. “Very new, I just moved here two days ago for work.”

“Well, welcome to Wabang. I promise not all us guys here are creeps like that asshole.” Rhett promises, once again glancing toward the man who had been harassing you earlier.

That draws a light chuckle out of you, but before you can respond, Rhett narrows his eyes and goes to speak again.

“Speaking of which, he’s still staring over here. I’m gonna put my arm around you… if you’re okay with that.”

Your head nods in agreement without really thinking much about it. Admittedly, you find yourself a little bit lost in the quiet, gravely tone of Rhett’s voice, that deep southern accent, and you’re fairly certain he could get you to agree to anything if he keeps talking to you like that.

Before you can register what’s happening, you’re enveloped by warmth and a pleasant musk that’s a spicy mix of vanilla and tobacco as Rhett leans in and drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.

“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” Rhett emphasizes the last word sarcastically; if he’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend, he’s going to have fun with it.

You take a second too long to answer, too busy trying to inhale Rhett’s scent again as discreetly as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice — he definitely notices.

When you look back up into his eyes, there’s a playful mirth to them, and a smirk overtaking his lips at how flustered you are by the close proximity and the use of the pet name.

“Y-yeah…yes.” You shake your head as though to clear it. “I’ll have a beer.”

As you inwardly cringe at yourself for stumbling through your answer, Rhett simply smirks and raises his hand to flag down the bartender and order your drink, all the while keeping you close to his side underneath his arm.

Only when the bartender places the bottle down in front of you does Rhett remove his arm from around your shoulders, and you find yourself already missing the warmth of the denim of his jacket on your bare skin.

“So, you moved here for work. What do you do?”

You tell him all about your new job and how excited you are for this fresh start in a new place, and Rhett listens intently, chiming in when necessary, loving how passionate you are about your work and content to just listen to the melodic sound of your voice.

“Alright, enough about me. What do you do, Rhett?” It’s the first time you’ve said his name tonight and Rhett feels his cheeks heat, deciding right then that he loves the way it sounds on your lips and that he needs to hear it more.

“I help out on my family’s ranch,” Rhett tells you. “…But I’m also a bull rider.” A small grin grows on his lips that tells you just how much he loves it.

“A bull rider?!” You’re beaming at him, eyes widened in surprise. “No way, that’s so cool! Way cooler than my job.”

Rhett lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head in an attempt to protest. Bashful and blushing even harder now, he tries to brush it off – unable to take a compliment, but you’re having none of it.

“Come on, it’s very impressive! Maybe I’ll come cheer you on in the stands sometime.”

“Yeah?” The two of you share light-hearted grins and you give Rhett an affirmative nod. Yeah, he would definitely like that.

The two of you sit at the bar and talk for a while longer, Rhett buying you a couple more beers. You discuss anything and everything that comes to mind and share a good few laughs, the alcohol leaving you on just the right side of tipsy, feeling open and content – light.

Rhett only nurses the one beer that he’s been drinking since you approached him earlier in the evening. He finds himself already feeling a bit protective of you, liking the responsibility of keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re having a good time. Besides, he just really enjoys talking to you and doesn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight.

Rhett continues to also keep an eye on the guy who was bothering you earlier – though he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t try to approach you again since you’ve been at Rhett’s side for a while now, his arm once again finding itself wrapped securely around your side.

However, Rhett’s noticed throughout the night that he’s not the only man in the bar he’s caught looking at you – yes, you’re new in town, but he knows they’re also looking – staring really – because of how beautiful you are. And he maybe finds himself feeling a bit jealous.

“Seems you’ve caught the attention of just about every guy in here tonight.” Rhett informs you with a teasing lilt to his voice to make light of the situation, smirking into his beer bottle as he takes the final sip.

“Not that I want it.” You roll your eyes dramatically. A playful smirk then takes over your lips — you’ve got an idea. The corner of Rhett’s lips quirk up a bit too as his brow raises in question.

“Just trust me.” Your face is leaning in closer towards him and before Rhett can process what’s happening, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The fact that you’re tipsy has definitely provided you some liquid courage, that much is for sure when you pull back and shift to whisper into Rhett’s ear.

“Gotta let them know that I’m all yours.” Your tone is playful, sarcastically seductive, the warmth of your breath against the skin of Rhett’s earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and he has to fight to hold back a groan. God, does he wish that statement were true.

You can’t stop the little fit of giggles that escapes you as you pull back, and Rhett can’t help but chuckle along with you. Admiring the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the adorable way that your nose wrinkles too. The skin of his cheek is still burning where your plush lips had kissed him.

Now it’s Rhett who has an idea, you can almost see the light bulb flicker behind his crystal blue eyes when they peer into yours again.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asks and your brows furrow adorably, curious as to where he’s going with this. You let him know that you were just going to call an Uber.

“I can drive you home… if you’d like.” Rhett’s nowhere near drunk from the one beer he’s had all evening.

“And there is a way you could show everyone you’re mine.” He proposes, that playful smirk returning to his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at Rhett, but you can’t help but grin along with him, still wondering what he could possibly be suggesting.

Rhett goes to remove the cowboy hat from his head, repeating your own words from only a few moments ago. “Just trust me.”

He moves to place the hat atop your head, a silly grin still on his face as he adjusts it over your hair. You meet his look with a puzzled smile of your own, unsure of what he meant, but something within you tells you that you can – trust him, that is.  

Rhett flags down the bartender and closes his tab before lightly knocking his fists on the wooden bar top.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Rhett chuckles like he knows something you don’t, and you can only roll your eyes in jest as you wait to be let in on the joke.

Rhett watches as you shrug on your jacket, stealing a long glance at you wearing his Stetson – feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest and enjoying the way it looks on your head – before he gently ushers you toward the exit of the bar.

Near the door, he sends a self-assured smirk to the asshole who had been bothering you earlier in the evening, who just watches along from a nearby booth with his buddies, a sour look on his face as you walk out into the night with Rhett’s arm draped over your shoulder.

Only when you’re secured into the passenger side of his truck does Rhett divulge the nature of his plan.

“So, uh — the hat,” Rhett nods towards his hat that you’re wearing and your fingers reach up to touch the worn fabric. “If you wear someone’s cowboy hat, you’re supposed to uh…ride the cowboy…”

He trails off, admittedly a bit nervous now – he doesn’t want to come off as a creep – as he explains the ‘cowboy hat rule’ as he called it, to you. His way of making the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seem a bit more real to any prying eyes, showing everyone in the bar that you’re ‘his’.

You stare at him in bewilderment for a long moment, mouth agape. Your expression sends Rhett into a boisterous fit of laughter, unable to refrain, and earns him a playful smack on the arm.

You close your eyes and cover your face with your palms. “Oh my god…”

“Oh, come on. It’s kinda funny.” Rhett contends through his laughter and you send him what you hope to be a scornful pout. But there’s no real malice behind it, a smile fighting to break through as you find it hard to be annoyed with him.

“And it’s not like I’m gonna hold you to it.” He promises with a wink that might make you swoon if you weren’t already sitting down.

Before you know it, you’re joining in on the laughs, unable to hold back any longer and relishing in the humor or the situation.

Once you’ve rattled off your address to Rhett, the ride to your home is filled with quiet music pouring from the truck’s radio – though it merely serves as background noise as you and Rhett spend the entire 20-minute drive talking. Sharing little details about yourselves and making plenty more jokes. His Stetson still sitting pretty atop your head.

Despite having spent hours talking with him in the bar, you still find yourself wanting to know more about him, not wanting the conversation – or this night –  to end.

The truck reaches your little house all too soon, and Rhett finds himself not wanting the night to end either. Pretending to be your boyfriend was the highlight of his evening and he wants nothing more than to see you again.

When he stops the truck at the end of the little path leading to your front door, Rhett clears his throat before moving to speak.

“So, I — uh, I was wondering, c-could I… maybe get your phone number?” Rhett asks quietly, a pink flush taking over his pale cheeks as he internally curses himself for sounding so nervous.

You don’t mind it, though — this seemingly tough cowboy growing all flustered and stumbling over his words for you? You couldn’t find it more endearing.  

Rhett holds his breath as your pretty eyes — slightly glassy still from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the evening, look straight into his blue ones, and you grace him with a coy smile.

“Of course. Who else am I going to call when guys are harassing me and I need a fake boyfriend?”

Rhett releases the breath he was holding and bites back a smile, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Great.”

Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you gingerly remove Rhett’s hat from your head, smoothing down your hair.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scoot closer toward him in the bench seat, reaching up to carefully place it back on top of his head  — your eyes gazing into Rhett’s blue ones as they peer back into yours, the two of you sharing bashful smiles.

With the cowboy hat secured on the head of its rightful owner, you move to pull away. However, you pause before you get too far, deciding to lean in and place one last kiss to Rhett’s cheek before climbing out of his truck.

Rhett’s in such a daze – cheeks flushing that bright pink once again as warmth radiates from where your lips had kissed him, and a dopey grin on his lips – that he almost doesn’t notice as you walk around to the driver’s side of his truck, leaning a bit into the open window. Your face close to his, lit up all pretty in the moonlight.

“Thank you for turning my shitty night around, Rhett.” You bite back a grin. “I had a lot of fun.”

Before Rhett can respond – still flustered from the kiss to his cheek and now from hearing you say his name again, you back away from his window, making your way towards the path. Walking backwards, still facing the truck and grinning at him all the while.

“Oh, and you’re a really great fake boyfriend!” You call out.

Breaking off into a giggle that carries in the night’s slight breeze and Rhett can only chuckle back, shaking his head as he watches you with a fond smile.  

With that, you turn around and walk off to your house with a spring in your step. Rhett stays sat there in his truck until he sees you make it through your front door safely, and he’s absolutely beaming.

Rhett's going to call you first thing tomorrow. He hopes that he can turn this ‘fake’ boyfriend situation into something real.

*

*

*

*

Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91  @memoriesat30  @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 ♥

also tagging a few people that I think may enjoy/liked my last rhett fic ♥ : @roleycoleyreccenter @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @mothdruid @lewmagoo @foreverrandomwritings @pillow-titties @sobshoney

*

*

*

[vivwritesfics]

I need a part 2 to if your daddy knew where both families find out about them and their reactions

This is a blurb because I'm not feeling it lmao

The fic

"Guys, please!" She begged as they headed out to the truck. "It's not his hat! I just found it!"

Luke let out a laugh as he shook his head. "You can tell us the truth, or you can come with us," he said and opened the door to the truck.

"She's coming with us," Trevor said, marching her forward and into the truck. He sat her between them, keeping her trapped as the four of them sat off towards the Abbott Ranch.

She was gonna throw up.

Rhett saw them coming. His hands were wrapped around his reins, ready to climb into his saddle when the Tillersons truck pulled into the ranch.

"Ah, fuck," he said as they parked up outside of the house and climbed out.

As quickly as he could, Rhett put his horse back into the barn. "Sorry, girl," he mumbled as he patted her neck quickly. And then he was marching off, heading back towards the house.

When he approached his mum was there, talking to Billy, Trevor, and Luke as they tried to force his way in. She was behind them, holding his hat behind her back.

She turned first, pretty eyes lighting up. But she didn't run towards him, like he would have liked. Her brothers turned after that.

"Abbott," Trevor barked. He snatched the hat from her hands and pushed it against Rhett's chest. "You left this with my sister."

It was game over on their little charade, wasn't it? And Rhett was fine with that. He looked at the Stetson in his hands and then looked past Trevor, at her. "Looks better on her, anyway," He said and placed it on his head.

Suddenly, Trevor had a hold of his shirt. He pushed him, pushing Rhett to the ground.

His fist connected with Rhett's face, but Rhett easily turned the two of them over, trapping Trevor beneath them. He hit Trevor only once, to keep him on the ground.

He stood up and pushed himself off. Her eyes were on him as he strode towards her. "Luke, Billy," he said, nodding at them, daring them.

And then he looked at her, the prettiest grin splitting across his face. "Darlin'," he said and pulled his hat from his head. He placed it on her head and leaned down to kiss her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck. "Rhett," she whispered against his lips. Her family knew, and she didn't give a single fuck.

[creatchie8]

Rodeo Queen

Summary: As a two-time Rodeo Queen and a skilled barrel racer, you are asked to be a guest judge at the Amelia County Fair. You learn quickly it is going to take more than your charming personality to gain the respect you deserve

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Rodeo Queen!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! Oral (F receiving), unprotected pinv sex, a tiny angst, alcohol consumption, light bondage

A/N: I wrote this instead of working on my finals, it was an idea I just couldn't shake. I am obsessed with the idea that Rhett folds for any strong independent woman

Word Count: 5,000ish

As you walked out of your trailer, a crisp breeze hit your face. Much to your relief, it cooled you down significantly, the space heater in your trailer running the whole time you were in there getting dressed and doing your makeup.

Your sister, also known as your ‘personal stylist’ insisted it was much too cold out for it to not be on. Even when you assured her it was only fifty degrees outside. 

Now here she is walking beside you in a giant puffer coat while you try to tune her out and focus on calming yourself down. No matter how many rodeos you went to, how many speeches you gave, how many parades you've rode in, all of it still riddled you with anxiety. 

It did not help one bit that everyone in the ‘Riders Only’ prep area was gawking at you. You did stick out like a sore thumb.

Decked out in a gorgeous scarlet button up, adorned with detailed black beading along the collar and cuffs and matching chaps over your bootcut jeans. Atop your head sitting a black wide-brimmed cowboy hat. 

Though, the most glaring of all would have to be your pearly white sash, dark cursive letters writing out ‘Canyon County Queen’. 

Nearing what you assume to be the other royalty court, you look extremely overdressed. Silently, you curse your sister for suggesting this outfit. 

“That’s Miss. Amelia County over there, Alexis is her name. Taylor is Miss. Junior-” Your sister starts, whispering in your ear before you wave her away, already stopping in front of the two girls. 

Politely, you introduce yourself and your sister, shaking hands with them. Taylor immediately lights up with recognition, giving you a toothy smile as her braces glint in the stadium lights. Alexis is equally as nice, more quiet and reserved compared to her younger counterpart. 

It didn't take much waiting near the green utility gate before handlers approach the four of you with horses. 

“Is this one mine? Oh thank you- gosh he’s handsome!” You gush to the man bringing a stunning bay with white markings on his face towards you. You shake his hand (if being a rodeo queen has taught you anything, it’s how to give a good handshake) and take the reins from him. He introduces himself as Bill, the man who you had emailed earlier this month when you were looking for a horse to ride this weekend. 

“Do you have your phone? Give me your phone, it’s almost call time.” You hear your sister behind you say, already reaching for your back pocket as you spin around to face her.

“Here-” You take it out of your jeans and roll your eyes playfully, “Don’t be bad while I’m away.” You chide and kiss her cheek before slotting your foot in a stirrup and hoisting yourself up on the huge horse with minimal help from the handler. 

“His name is Merlot, my daughter’s horse.” Bill explains, rubbing the palm of his hand over the horse’s neck before a younger man comes up and hands you the American flag pole to hold. 

“Well, be sure to tell your daughter thank you. She’s a very lucky girl.” You grin down at him before being called over to where the gate opens up to the arena, following Alexis and Taylor. 

An older woman with a very professional demeanor greets the three of you before briefly explaining the game plan, arranging by flags with you last to enter. Merlot shifts beneath you, stepping back as Alexis’ horse flicks him in the nose with her tail as you wait for the opening music. 

Soon enough, some random rock song plays and you are off, pressing your heels firmly into Merlot’s sides to urge him along with the other horses.

You grip the wooden pole and his reins tightly, plastering the biggest smile on your face as he enters an energetic gallop. Your body rocks with the power of his strides, the roar of the decently sized crowd making your body buzz with excitement as he takes you in a circle around the ring.

“And last but not least holding the American flag, Idaho’s very own Canyon County Rodeo Queen! First claiming her title in 2023 and again in 2024, this two time winner hails from Wilson, Wyoming. A skilled barrel racer and coming from a long line of pros, we are lucky to have her as a guest bull riding judge tonight!” The announcer roars through the crackling intercom system. Your palms prickle with the thrill of it all, coming to a stop and facing the audience with Alexis and Taylor on either side of you. 

Carefully you transfer the reins to your other hand, waving to the crowd and blowing an air kiss to them as he finishes reading the bio your agent sent. You can feel Merlot’s back legs lock as you sit there half listening to the announcer, his warmth and heavy breath beneath you draws your full attention away from the national anthem. You watch as his ears twitch and you pat his neck reassuringly as Merlot pulls on the reins. 

With the anthem done, you take him back through the gate, keeping a smooth trot till you find Bill and the young man with him. They help you dismount, your boots kicking up dust as you land, thanking them again and venturing back to the trailer where you have no doubt your sister is. 

-

You do have to admit, without your chaps on it is kinda cold out here. Only a few steps out of your trailer you turn on your heels and sprint back inside, your sister already calling after you. You return with a heavy brown bomber jacket on your shoulders, fixing your hair as the two of you make your way over to the judge’s station. 

It’s more modest than you are used to, just a folding table with chairs pressed against the fence on the opposite side of the opening gate. A darker skinned man sits there with a pen in hand, ordering the scoresheets. 

“You must be David Acothley. I’m-” You start, extending your hand towards him.

“Miss. Canyon County herself, pleasure to meet you.” He interrupts, taking your hand. His eyes are like warm chocolate, inviting you in as he gestured to the empty seat beside him. You turn back to your sister and bid her goodbye as you sit, taking your stack of the sheets. 

“You sure you know what you're doin’?” He asks, handing you a pen.

Internally, you roll your eyes and cringe. Your previous positive thoughts about him disappearing into annoyance. 

“Yup.” 

And you refuse to make anything but curt small talk with him the rest of the night. 

-

“Now up is Wabang’s very own hometown hero, Rhett Abbott! Let's show some love to our local boy!” You hear over the speakers, the crowd quite possibly going crazier than when you were announced. You see a tall man enter the chute, his hair was longer, neutral brown in color. Number eleven was pinned to his back, the paper looking small compared to his wide shoulders. 

With a sharp nod, the gate springs open and the massive beast bursts from its containment. Powerful muscles rippled under its dull black coat in an attempt to kick Rhett off. The arena is full of motion, the bull’s thick hooves tearing up the ground. 

He’s not keeping his heels up. You think to yourself, pen tapping on the paper. The eight seconds seem to last forever, nearing the end his rhythm is off, already slipping to the left side before his time is up. 

His control is way off.

As soon as his body hits the ground you scribble on your sheet. 

Fourteen for the bull, sixteen for Rhett. 

When you glance over at David’s sheet, seeing that he scored the bull seventeen and Rhett twenty-one, your opinion might not be very popular then. The runner takes the two of your sheets before you can even comprehend and runs it to the announcer’s booth to display it on the board, a total of sixty-eight. 

You can hear the crowd’s disappointment echoing through the arena and your eyes flick to the now standing cowboy. His face was turned to the screen, angled towards you. Rhett was quite handsome, you could tell even yards away from him. A strange feeling of warmth and a flutter in your chest took hold of you. So distracted you almost didn’t catch the look of dismay in his face before exiting the arena. 

- 

Music played over the speakers, the random podunk dive bar you were at was lively with people. Some of the barrel racers took pity and invited you to go drink with them. You jumped at the chance, eager to leave the trailer you had been in for the past two days. 

You had never changed so fast, scrubbing off your stage makeup and reapplying a more natural, minimalist look as a few girls stood in your trailer out of the cold. Trading your dressy button up for a branded quarter zip you finally blended in with the rest of them. 

You were already recognizing some of the men you judged, unable to recall their names as they slid up next to you to talk to the girls you were with. A few chatted with you, asking how the Canyon Night Rodeo scene was and if they should go next year. You were excited to talk with them, telling them all about qualifying and next year’s dates.

Playing pool with your newfound friends nursing a beer which had long gone warm, you feel a firm tap on your shoulder. Setting down your drink on an empty nearby table, you turn, tipping your hat up to see better.

Above you stands a tall, broad man. You recognized him after a few blinks. Rhett Abbott, Wabang’s Hometown Hero. 

“Hey Rhett, finally sick of Cowfish?” Joked the woman standing across the table from you.

“You know it, Sandy. This is a better bar anyways.” He responded, still looking at you with smooth blue eyes. His chin was scruffy, facial hair dark compared to his freckled skin.

“Sure it wasn't cause they kicked ya out?” She ragged, pulling giggles out of the rest of the girls, but he ignored her. 

Rhett was crossing his arms, swaying the tiniest bit. Curious, you cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he was drunk. It was like his shoulders were straining against his long sleeve carhartt, the blue sleeves hugging his biceps. 

“Hi Rhett, I’m-” You start, trying to make this whole situation less awkward, you could feel your friends staring holes in your back.

“I know who you are.” There was no malice, or really anything in his tone, just calm and steady as if he wasn't tapping his fingers almost nervously against his biceps.

When you got back to the trailer, you were going to pull your hair out. Interrupted again, it was like no one really cared who you were beyond the frills and white sash, even when you were wearing street clothes. You swore your eye twitch as you tried to muster up a smile that probably looked like a grimace. 

“What’s with my score?” He asked, just as if he was wondering why the sky was blue.

“Your score? What do you mean?” You laugh, glancing back at the rest of the girls before going back to Rhett. You had scored so many men that you barely even recall who topped the chart and was going out tomorrow night. 

“You gave me,” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head, “a fourteen and a sixteen. David told me.” 

This time, you did roll your eyes. Why did this David guy have so much beef with you? You didn't even know each other. That’s probably why no guy had stayed longer than to pick your brain on how to get ahead in the sport. Who knows how many guys he told about their less than desirable scores. 

“Listen Rhett.” You stated, stepping closer to him and straightening your shoulders, not eye level to him but tall enough so it didn't feel like he was intimidating you. You were close enough to smell him, salty and earthy with a hint of smoke, like he had a cigarette earlier. 

“I don't know what David told you, but I only give scores that people deserve. I have no prejudice against you or any other bullrider here. I’m just doing my job.”

“Do you have the qualifications to judge?”

Now that stung. It stung worse than when your childhood horse Oswin kicked you off and you believed for weeks that you broke your ass. Faintly, you could hear the barrel racers talking behind the two of you, the sound of them playing pool long gone. The kind part of you tried to reassure yourself that he was just some poor drunk, to just ignore him. 

“Do you know who I am? And don't say ‘Rodeo Queen’ cause that's not my name, buddy.” You snarked, planting your hands firmly on your hips. You await his answer, raising your eyebrows in question as he opens his mouth and shuts it with a click, looking down at his boots. 

“Right. So next time you wanna talk to me about scores, how ‘bout you address me by name and we can be civil.” You turn back to the pool table and grab your beer, taking a long swig and cringing at the warmness of it. 

“Just cause you're some legend’s daughter doesn't give you the right to judge hard, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? 

Spinning right back around, your skin burns with animosity. You step up to him again, toe to toe. Even as he stumbles back you step forward again so you are basically nose to nose. Strange electricity crackles between the two of you as you press the lip of your bottle into his chest.

“Okay then, how ‘bout this. Your control is way off, and by the way you hold yourself,” You look him up and down, taking in his stance, and fuck, why does this dickhead have to be hot, “I suspect it has something to do with your core. That’s what's causing you to start slipping off the bull early and why your feet can't stay up.” You practically hiss, refusing to back down without a fight. You didn’t come this far to bow down to a shitty bull rider with an ego. 

Then something happens, and you swear you might be hallucinating. In Rhett’s clearly drunken state, you could've sworn the side of his lip twitched up in a smirk. It only lasts a second and you chalk it up to the dim bar light. It still makes an odd ache between your legs, realizing you two had been sharing breath and his eyes were fixed on your lips. 

Not wanting to waste a good night on an ignorant man, you step away and call over your shoulder, “And if I remember correctly, you still made qualifiers. So I'll see you tomorrow, Rhett.”

-

And you did see Rhett that next night, it was almost like he made sure of it too. 

He just so happened to be right near the entrance gate when you were mounting Merlot for the opening ceremony, chatting with who you assumed to be his friend. 

Rhett tipped his hat forward in a greeting, pulling a glare out of you. And now you have to listen to your sister gush about ‘that mysterious man’ and how pretty he was right up until you galloped away into the ring. 

Pretty fucking annoying. You think to yourself, and stew for the rest of the evening. 

You don't dare say a word to David when you join him to judge, now hyper aware of every time he looks over at your paper. Not that you cared at this point, tomorrow you would be driving back to Idaho never to think about Wabang and its residents ever again. 

Taking a deep breath as you hear Rhett’s name get called, you bite the inside of your cheek as he slides into the chute. The bull thrashes once, the sharp bang echoing through the arena, not even giving Rhett enough time to tie himself on. 

Out of the gate he looks better, maybe he actually listened to all the things you told him last night. He’s stiffer though, which does help him keep his feet by the bull’s shoulders but it interferes with his rhythm. He was too focused on staying upright, causing him to not be able to move with the bull. 

The bell sounds and he falls, feet slipping on the dirt as he tries to get away. 

He was significantly better than last time, but far from perfect. 

Sixteen for the bull, eighteen for Rhett.

Curious, you look over at David’s sheet. A twenty-one and twenty-two, which makes a total of seventy-seven. You don't even bother watching him find out what his score is, you just arrange your papers and get ready for the next guy. 

-

You're fiddling with the generator outside your trailer when you hear your name called out behind you. Getting up, you brush the dust off your jeans before turning around and locking eyes with the last person you want to see. 

“So you finally figured out my name, huh?” You ask and kneel back down to the generator, praying he leaves. You hear his boots move closer to you, stopping inches away from your crouched form. There was hardly anyone still here, most of them out celebrating or sleeping in their trailers. 

“Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. My momma raised me better than that.” Rhett admitted softly, “A couple of us are headed to the bar in a little and I was wonderin’ if you'd join us?”

“Thanks, but I doubt I’m welcome. I reckon David has told everyone how badly I fucked them by now.” You huff, and Rhett’s silence is all you need to hear. 

 Standing up and turning around, you stumble back with how close Rhett is, narrowly bumping right into his chest. You cross your arms and notice that he’s just in his button up, striped and blue, he looks infuriatingly good. 

“Have you also come to question me about your score?” You ask, it's cold enough that your breath creates steam in the nighttime air. 

“What? No I- I came here to apologize.” He furrows his brows, shoving his hands in his pockets. His admission to defeat makes you huff in annoyance. 

“Really? You're not the tiniest bit curious why I scored you the way I did?” You pressed. 

“Okay well maybe I am. But that was an afterthought to the apolo-” Rhett starts, taking off his cowboy hat and running his fingers through his hair. Hair that you wanted to touch, hair that you desired to feel the texture of. 

“You were too stiff this time. Yes, your legs were up which earned you some points but it's not all about that.” You interrupt, gesturing to the arena, “Now, because of your vest I couldn't tell if it was mostly in your stomach or back, but-” 

“Oh so you're the expert now?” Rhett grumbled, looking to the sky. 

“Yes, actually, I kinda am. You have to be more than a pretty face to win a Rodeo Queen title.” That same funny feeling leaped into your throat as you argued with him. And although you were outside, it felt as if the atmosphere was shrinking even though you had all the room in the world to back away. 

“I’d like to see you ride a bull then.” 

“Oh trust me, I can ride a bull.” You quipped, turning away and walking towards the stairs to your trailer. But before you could climb the first step, a strong hand grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you back. You make a soft umph sound as you hit his chest, and the next thing you know his warm lips crash against yours. 

It was a sharp contrast to the cold outside, the heat increasing as you kissed him back, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him in. Rhett walks you backwards so your body connects with the side of the trailer, the freezing metal zipping through your decorative button up. The sudden temperature change draws a whine from your chest, only halfway emerged before Rhett swallows it up, his hands pulling your waist in close. 

You pull away for just a moment, Rhett now kissing your jaw and nearing your neck, “Inside-” Is all you manage to get out before he’s biting at your neck, his cowboy hat knocked off his head and now resting on the ground. 

Pushing him away, you bite your lip. Although your red lipstick said it was smudge proof, it somehow ended up leaving a light sheen of pink smeared over his mouth. He follows you inside, tossing his cowboy hat on the couch as you lock the door. 

“Wait, isn't your sister staying here too?” He asks in a hushed voice, as if she could jump out at any moment.

“Yeah, but she’s out.” Is all you can say before crossing the short distance between you two and kissing him again. It doesn't take long to get you both out of clothes, your pearl snaps coming undone easily to reveal your lace balconette bra, your jeans already unzipped by Rhett’s wandering hands by the time you pushed open his own shirt.

You were mesmerized by his bareness, Rhett’s torso perfectly displaying softness and pure muscle. Your stomach flips as you look down to the bulge in his blue jeans. Catching his hands trying to pull your own jeans over the swell of your ass, you take him to the small bedroom, if you could call it that. 

You push him to sit on the bed, sheets still messed up from this morning. Stepping back, you push your jeans down, kicking them and your boots behind you. Rhett impulsively reaches out, hooking a finger into your thong before you smack his hand away. 

“No touching.” You chide, watching him nod like a big, dumb puppy. His obedience causes the inside of your thighs to tingle, his eyes almost looking sorrowful as you reach behind yourself and unhook your bra, tossing it to join your jeans. 

In just socks and panties, you step between his jean-clad thighs, running your fingers through his hair and kissing him. He tentatively touches his fingertips to your sides, so light you could barely feel them. They inched their way up your body before stopping before your breasts, pausing for a moment then swiping his thumbs boldly over the underside of them. 

Catching his wrists, you push his hands down and away from you, halting your kisses. 

“What did I say about no touching, Rhett?” You firmly scold, watching his eyes widen  and his cheeks grow impossibly redder, the flush continuing down to his chest. 

“Take off your pants.” You command and let him go, watching as he jumps up and kicks off his boots, nearly tearing off his pants and boxers. His cock slapped against his lower stomach, the thick head a deep purple with the lack of attention. You start to wonder how far you can take this, break down this cowboy you hardly know.

“Get to your knees.” You say simply, watching as Rhett pauses only for a moment before dropping with a soft thud to the linoleum. His nose is basically touching the fabric of your thong, his warm breath fanning over you. Dropping your panties you tangle a fist in his hair and spread your legs a bit, pushing his face closer. 

It doesn't take much convincing before his hands are on your thighs, urging them further apart. His tongue parts you with ease, a moan already rattling in your lungs. He laps at you like a man starved, stubble chafing your inner thighs as his brow furrows in concentration. 

With his eyes closed you can see a few small freckles marking his eyelids, though you only notice it for a second until he sucks your clit in his mouth, your vision going blurry. It doesn't take long till you are pulling him away by his hair, a string of drool connecting his mouth to you as he parts. You don't even notice how bad your legs are shaking till he loosens his grasp on them. 

Your hand cups his jaw, thumb running over his swollen pink lips before you nod to the bed, unable to speak. He clambers up to the bed, his knees popping as he stands. Crawling over his naked body, you straddle his narrow hips and pin his hands above his head, kissing down his neck. You suck a sneaky bruise under his collarbone, feeling him wiggle under you. 

Looking up, you try to find something to restrain him with. The only thing nearby is your sweater resting on a pillow, and surely that won't do. Then you remember a certain something hanging from the wall behind you. 

Getting up and snatching it from a nail in the wall, you return to your earlier position with your silky white sash in hand. Rhett looks up at his hands as you tie them together with the fabric. And you know your sister will be screaming about it later but you really can't find the mindset to even care right now. 

Gently, you trail your manicured fingernails down his wrists and then his biceps, all the way down to his chest and torso till you wrap a hand around his thick cock, smearing the head through your dripping folds. You can feel his breathing quicken as you lean down to whisper in his ear.

“I'll show you how to ride a bull.”

And his gasp when you sink down will forever be one of the sweetest noises you will ever hear. His fists clench as you lower yourself slowly, your nails biting into his ribs. You pant till you're lightheaded, the stretch almost too much. Fully seated, you let your head fall back and a long whine escaped your throat. No matter how many times you blink, it’s still blurry, the ceiling nothing but a flat plane of color. 

“God- you’resofuckin’beautiful-” Rhett praises you in one breath, his muscles getting twitchier the longer you wait to move. You grind down on him, his pubic hair just the right amount of friction to rub your swollen clit on. 

Lolling your head back up, you bite your lip, raising yourself up a few centimeters before dropping back down, testing the waters. The sting is glorious and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Rhett struggles against the sash, clenching and unclenching his fists as you tentatively ride him. The cursive letters are all wonky, pulled tight against his wrists. You could bet money the tip of his dick was pressing hard against your cervix as you struggled to take him whole. 

You can already feel sweat gathering in the pits of your knees, a sheen covering Rhett’s flushed chest as he panted and groaned, begging for more. The drag of his cock filled you to the brim, making you unable to take a breath when you were fully seated. You move your hands to his chest, thumbs brushing over his pink nipples before leaning down and sucking one into your mouth, pinching the other. 

“Please darlin’ I- ohh…” Rhett whimpered, skin stretched thin over his chest and showing his ribs and he squirmed under your touch. His pleading tone made your pussy clench, a swell of ecstasy shooting you right in the chest.  

You take pity on him, sitting up and quickening your pace as you steady yourself on his chest. The bed rattles under your motion, the mattress squeaking with effort. You can feel his hips canting upwards in an attempt to meet yours. 

Slowing, you lean back and plant your hands firmly on his thighs behind you. The new change in position already has you keening, the head of his dick pressing into something that causes stars to burst behind your eyelids. A spot that you could never quite reach with your fingers  when you were masturbating, a spot that has you choked up and gasping as you ride him. 

Riding him recklessly, you feel a familiar pressure build in your lower half. You steady yourself on one hand, the other massaging your clit to bring you closer and closer. The two of you have locked eyes, half-lidded yes, but all you need to communicate as words die on your tongue. Your cheeks are burning, hair sticking to your forehead while beads of sweat run down your spine. 

“Rh-Rhett… I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” You start, lips tingling as you fail to finish your thought. He was already nodding, a fist grasping at the pillow above him and you genuinely thought he was going to shred it. 

The balloon inside you pops violently, so much so it has you bordering on dizzy and sick. A wet gush dampens your inner thighs and all of Rhett’s lower stomach, the frantic slapping of his hips on your ass turns increasingly wetter. It takes everything in you to hold yourself upright, gasping for air as your vision tunes in and out. 

Catching yourself on his chest as you fall forward, he lifts his thighs and pounds into you like a jackhammer. Faintly you can hear him crying out your name like a prayer, as if it would be the only thing that could save him. His motions grow sloppy till he stops, the feeling of his hot cum pumping into you like a mini orgasm and zapping you back to life. 

Your throat was sore from crying out, nose burning from hyperventilation. Placing soft kisses on Rhett’s warm neck, you blindly reach up and somehow untie him. His wrists are red and bordering on raw from struggling. The fabric is wrecked and stretched thin, the letters no longer spelling out your status. 

It gets thrown off the bed in exchange for kisses from Rhett. With his hands finally free he cups your breasts and gently tweaks your nipples, smiling against your mouth when you whimper. 

“Don't leave for the bar.” You murmur against his plush lips, his cock still inside your cum-filled pussy.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He mumbles in return, rough hands smoothing down your bare back and making you shiver. 

Maybe you will return to Wabang after all. 

[inthe-dark-tonight]

show me where it hurts and i’ll lick it better

rhett abbot x fem!reader

summery: rhett comes over after getting into a fight with his brother, you help to clean him up and make it all better.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: established relationship, mentions of blood/cuts/minor wounds, tending to wounds, smut, unprotected p in v, maybe ooc idk

notes: um… idk what this is i wrote it in literally 4 days. i’m just really down bad for rhett abbott right now & i’ve been listening to ethel cain basically nonstop. this takes place after the fight between rhett & perry in 1x6 (i think) also not beta’d, enjoy :)

You hear a faint knock on the door as you're washing the dishes, glancing at the clock on your kitchen wall as you reach to turn the faucet off. 9:12pm. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you’re just hearing things. Then you hear it again, this time a little louder, and you quickly dry your hands off on the towel hanging next to the dish rack. You walk towards the front door, straightening yourself up as you twist the door handle, slowly pulling it open. There’s only one person that it could be. 

When you open the door he’s looking towards the ground, his large frame slumped over as he uses one hand to lean against the door frame, the other the other toying with the zipper of his jacket, baseball cap hiding his face from you. After a moment he finally looks up, his dark blue eyes meeting yours with a sheepish look. Your heart drops, his cap casting a shadow across half his face, but not enough to hide the damage that’s been done.

“Rhett…” you breathe out as you look over his features. Your eyes widen as you look over the remnants of dried blood from his nose, smeared halfway across his cheek and down his chin, along with the puffy red mark on his cheekbone that will surely turn into a bruise by tomorrow. “What happened?” 

You grab his free hand, pulling him inside and he winces, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Your eyes quickly shift to where your hand is holding his, noticing the dried blood that covers his swollen knuckles. 

“Sorry.” You pull your hand away, closing the door behind you as he steps into your apartment. 

“‘S okay.” He quickly grabs your hand again, slightly tugging you closer. “Perry and I….” He sighs, shaking his head. 

There’s been tension between the two brothers recently, whenever you ask Rhett about it he just brushes it off saying it’s nothing, but you know better. You can only imagine what went down between the two as you look him over, noticing now in the dim light of your apartment that his shirt is also stained with blood.

You don’t ask him to explain any further, giving him a knowing look as he squeezes your hand lightly.

“C’mon.” You say softly, walking towards your kitchen as you pull him along behind you, fingers loosely intertwined with his. 

You walk towards the sink in silence, dropping his hand so you can open a drawer full of clean hand towels. As you pull one out, you look back over your shoulder at Rhett. He adjusts his hat, looking at you shyly as you reach to turn the water on and focus back on your task. While the water warms up, you run your hand beneath it making sure it’s at a comfortable temperature before getting the towel wet. 

The sound of running water fills the quiet room, until you hear Rhett’s boots shuffle against the tile floor. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he stands closely behind you, and your breath catches in your throat. One of his large hands finds your hip pulling you into him, the other lightly rests on your shoulder as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, squeezing your hip as warmth begins to blossom in your core. When he breathes out, his warm breath tickles you causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your eyes shut for a moment while you take in a shaky breath before turning around in his arms.

You look up at him, his eyes dark and hooded as he rests his hands on the counter on either side of you. His eyes dart over your face and you watch as his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. There’s a warm feeling that shoots through your chest as you look back at him, towering over you as you lean back against the counter. 

“Let me clean you up.” You whisper between the two of you. 

“M’kay.” He replies, voice raspy and low as he tilts his head slightly to the side. 

You stand up straight, causing him to lean back and move his arm to let you go. He lets out a low grunt as you slide past him and walk towards your living room. When you reach the couch you stop, standing beside the coffee table as you motion for him to sit down. Rhett pauses to take his jacket off, groaning in pain a bit, then glances at you before going to take a seat, letting out a sigh as he settles into the couch. One of his arms is slung over the back of the couch, the other resting on his thigh as he watches you. 

Once you take a seat beside him on the edge of the couch, tucking one leg under yourself, you begin to assess the damage that’s been done. He reaches a hand up to remove his hat so you can get a better look at his face, tossing it beside him and pushing his hair back before resting his hand back on his lap. 

His hand trembles slightly and you reach for it, bringing it closer to your face so you can look at the raw skin on his knuckles before placing the warm washcloth over them. He takes in a sharp breath as you continue lightly pressing the towel over his sore hand. You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are heavy as he watches you, relaxing back into the couch. 

As you lift the wash cloth off, your eyes focus back on his hand, looking at it again now that it’s cleaned up a bit. There’s two raw spots on his middle and ring finger knuckles, but most of the blood is gone now. You dab over it one more time with the washcloth, then turn his hand side to side to look at the swelling. It’s bad, there’s no denying that, and he’ll definitely have to ice it for a few days if he wants to even think about participating in his tournament next week. 

You rub your thumb gently over his knuckles, bringing his hand up to your mouth so that you can plant a kiss over the warm, tender skin. There’s a slight taste of iron and salt as you plant another kiss, glancing up at him as he adjusts himself, clenching his jaw as he sits up straighter against the back of the couch. He lets out a low groan as you place his hand back on his lap, letting your fingers lightly brush over the fabric of his dark jeans before pulling away. 

“Need to get a closer look at your face.” You say softly. 

“Mmm, yeah.” He mumbles, agreeing with you. 

You swing your leg over so that you’re now situated on his lap, straddling him so you can take a good look. He tilts his head back, looking up at you with a small smirk on his face as you scoot closer. Your free hand brushes his hair back, stopping at the base of his neck to bury your finger in his soft curls and tug lightly. As his eyes flutter shut, he swallows, adam's apple bobbing up and down. You can’t help but let your eyes trail over his neck, fully on display with his head tilted back like this. 

The washcloth in your other hand is still warm as you lift the clean side to his face and gently begin wiping the dried blood from under his nose and mouth. He crinkles his nose and moves his mouth from side to side as you clean him up, one hand still buried in his hair to keep his head still. His hands move to your waist, sliding up under the hem of your shirt. The feeling of his large calloused hands on your soft skin creates another jolt of warmth straight to your core. 

You finish cleaning the blood from his face, leaning back to set the washcloth on the coffee table behind you. “That's better.”

He opens his eyes and your hands run over his broad shoulders while you begin to rearrange yourself on his lap, pressing your hips down into his, lightly grinding against him. He huffs, running his hands up your bare back and pulling you closer. When he leans in closer, going straight towards your neck, you grab his face and gently pull his head back. Rhett stares up at you confused, mouth slightly open as he tilts his head back. 

“Sweetheart….” He breaths out, almost a whine, a plea. 

He looks especially pretty in the warm, dim light of your living room, looking up at you with his dark blue eyes. You bite your lip lightly as you hold back a giggle, caressing his stubbled jaw with the backs of your fingers as he waits for you to say something. 

“Still need to look at this mark near your eye, baby.” You say as you trace your fingertips over the red mark on his cheekbone. 

Rhett shifts in his seat, bucking his hips upwards. You can feel his growing member right beneath your core, straining against his jeans. As you try your best not to smile, you continue checking out his cheek. It’s definitely going to turn into a bruise, but there’s no cut accompanying the swollen bump. His eyes watch yours as you continue to look over his face, rubbing your thumb over the spot and humming.

“Just needs to be iced, probably should ice your hand too.” You’re still focused on his face when his hands travel up your arms, one finding its way to the back of your neck while the other kneads your shoulder. 

Your eyes quickly shift to meet his as he pulls you down towards him, tilting his head further back to meet your lips. A soft hum leaves your lips, eyes falling shut as his soft lips press against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself as close as you can to him. There’s still a slight taste of iron on his lips as you dart your tongue out, deepening the kiss. 

He pulls away for a moment, chest heaving. “I’ll ice it later.” His forehead rests against yours before diving back into the kiss. 

Your hands grasp at his shirt, pulling him back into you as you lift your hips up to try and adjust your position. When your hips meet his again, grinding down into him, you can feel that he’s completely hard now. He lets out a deep moan against your mouth, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Rhett breaks the kiss again and you try to catch your breath as your hands fumble to find the hem of his shirt, running your hands over his skin as you lift it up to reveal his torso. He grabs the back of his shirt, helping you to pull it up over his head before throwing it somewhere on the floor. You can tell he’s in pain from whatever went down with his brother, but it’s not enough to make him stop. 

He rests his hands on your thighs as you pull your shirt over your head, throwing it beside his, and he immediately leans in to kiss along the delicate exposed skin of your chest and neck. You let your eyes fall shut, tilting your head back as he continues pressing his warm lips up and down your neck, tongue darting out on every other kiss. Rhett moves his rough hands up your thighs, over your waist, and wraps them around your back. 

When he finally pulls away from your neck, you focus back on him as he begins pawing at the clasp of your bra, fidgeting with it for a short while until it finally comes undone. He looks up at you, looking into your eyes as he slowly pulls the straps down your arms. The feeling of his fingertips trailing down your skin causes you to shiver, mouth parting slightly as cool air hits your bare breasts. Your bra gets discarded somewhere on the floor along with your shirts and Rhett has his hands on you again before you can even think, cupping your breasts with his large hands. You hold onto his bare shoulders, his eyes glued to you as he gently squeezes the soft skin, thumbs grazing over your sensitive nipples. 

You sigh, bucking your hips forward as your eyes flutter shut, pleasure coursing through your body. When he suddenly removes his warm hands, you groan and open your eyes, brows furrowed as you prepare to question him, but he quickly grabs your waist. 

“Lift up.” He motions for you to lift your hips off of him, reaching towards his belt buckle. 

Once you finally process what he’s doing, you follow his lead and stand up between his legs to quickly remove your jeans along with your underwear, leaving them behind on the floor. Rhett quickly unfastens the button on his jeans, lifting his hips to pull them below his waist as you climb back onto him. As you straddle his waist once again, your hands roam over the skin above his boxers, toying with the waistband. Rhett’s hands are on your waist again, hands sliding over your skin to rest on your ass before squeezing the soft flesh. 

“Look at you, my sweet thing.” His voice is deep and full of lust, fueling your need for him. 

Your hand slips into his boxers, reaching to wrap your hand around him while you pull the fabric the rest of the way down with your other hand. He hisses as you grip the base of his cock, giving it a small squeeze. The sight of him makes you let out a whine, his eyes close as his breathing picks up and you begin to slowly pump your fist. You watch his face, brows slightly knit together as he bites down on his lower lip. 

You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, spreading the precum around before letting go. Rhett opens his eyes as his dick springs back, letting out a deep groan as he looks up at you, eyes darkening. He squeezes your ass again, pushing you forward slightly so that your swollen clit bumps against the base of him. Your hips jut forward and you let out a gasp from the contact, planting one hand on the back of the couch to brace yourself while the other is buried in his hair. 

“Need you now sweetheart.” His hands roam over your back, pulling you down into a desperate kiss. 

You hum in agreement, hips rocking back and forth on his cock, covering it in your slick as he shudders. Rhett pulls away, a hand caressing the back of your neck as the other fists himself to line up with your hole. Once you lift your hips, he frantically guides himself to your aching core before his tip catches on your entrance. 

A loud moan escapes you, mouth falling open in pleasure as he grabs your hips, holding you there for a moment. Rhett’s eyes are glued to where your bodies meet, slowly guiding you as he watches himself enter you. He lets out a low moan as his cock is nearly fully sheathed inside you.

There’s a slight sting as he stretches you, bottoming out and giving you a moment to adjust. You lean in, kissing him tenderly while you begin to slowly rock your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. Rhett takes a deep breath through his nose, lips still locked on yours as he thrusts his hips up ever so slightly. 

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless. “So tight sweetheart, feels so good.” He huffs. 

You begin to pick up the pace, lifting your hips up and grinding back down. He’s trying to contain himself, making sure that you’re warmed up enough, but his patience is growing thin. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you again before he begins thrusting up into you at a quicker pace. 

You cry out, surprised by the sudden change in pace, burying your face into his neck. Rhett lets out a low huff with every thrust up into you, and you let out soft moans into the base of his neck as your climax grows closer. You fist your hand in his hair and he groans, a hand grabbing your cheek to pull your head away from his neck. 

“Look at me baby.” His lips slightly parted, skin shining with a light layer of sweat. 

He keeps his hand on your cheek as you stare back at him, placing your own hand over his. When you feel the rough skin of his knuckles, you remember why he came here in the first place. You quickly glance down where your bodies meet, moving your hips to meet his thrusts now. Rhett lets out a moan as he slams his hips up into yours, hitting a deeper angle now. You pull his hand away from your face and kiss his palm, then his wrist before closing his hand into a fist so you can look over the way his knuckles are already scabbing up. He watches you intently, and you kiss over the sore skin again, tongue flicks out over his warm skin. 

“Fuck, baby.” Rhett grunts, pulling his hand from yours to snake around your back. 

He quickly guides you to change positions, laying you on your back so his large frame is now towering over you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he finds his pace again, slamming his hips into yours as your back arches off the couch. With every thrust you’re seeing stars, the sounds of him grunting and huffing along with the view of him towering over you, hair messy and the warm lighting highlighting his features, you’re suddenly sent over the edge. 

Your orgasm ripples through your body, head pressing back into the couch cushion as you moan loudly, mouth falling open as your eyes squeeze shut. Rhett thrusts into you a few more times as your walls clench around him, soaking his cock as his pace begins to falter. He quickly pulls out, groaning as he releases himself on your stomach and lets his head fall onto your shoulder. 

He squeezes beside you up against the back of the couch as he catches his breath, body falling limp as he relaxes. While he lays there with his head on your shoulder, one arm slung over your chest, you run your hand through his damp hair, the other rubbing up and down his back. You watch him, eyes closed and a content look on his face as you two lay there for another moment, forgetting about earlier and forgetting about what’s to come.

“I’ll grab something to clean you up.” He mumbles against you before lifting himself up on his elbow. 

You both glance down at the mess he made, laughing softly before he leans in to kiss you, hand caressing the side of your face before he moves to get up. 

“Okay, but we really need to ice your hand after.” You give him a concerning look as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

Rhett turns towards you, buttoning his jeans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Okay sweetheart.”

thanks for reading :) <3

[attapullman]

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: f! reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, fingering, swearing, alcohol, healthy dash of praise k!nk as usual

A Note From Mo: I blame reading an old fic I desperately wanted to re-write and having covid, strep, and my period all at the same time for whatever the fuck this is. Anyway, happy 6 months since the last time I wrote Rhett! xoxo

There’s something about waking up in a bed that isn’t yours that causes an anxiety like none other. Especially when the night before is a hazy blur. And you aren’t wearing any pants.

Wait, where are your pants?

Creamy morning light bleeds through the thin plaid curtains in the room. From your spot half-buried under the comforter, you notice the vaguely familiar rodeo posters tacked up on the wall and dust-covered flannels on the floor. The slight tinge of boy sweat engulfs the room. Definitely not a Tillerson room, but who the fuck did you go home with?

A quick body scan results in these observations:

Your jeans were long gone, but cheekies and tshirt still remained.

Your head was splitting open from the axe of a bad hangover.

Based on the groan that did not come from your body, there was definitely another person in the bed. And they were awake.

You flip over in bed, panicked. Praying to God that beside you is some random Wabang townie. But you would know those dark, grown out curls anywhere. He may be turned toward the wall, but you know him better than you know yourself.

“Rhett?”

A tentative hand leaves the warm cocoon of blankets to roughly shove your ex’s shoulder. He grunts with consciousness and a veiny hand rises up to rub at his eyes. Takes a moment to rake through those unruly curls. Flipping over onto his back, bright ultramarine eyes quirk up at you. 

“Good mornin’ to y’too, sunshine.”

It’s hard to remember everything you want to say when he’s looking entirely too delectable for the morning hours. Something you’d sweetly told him during your relationship, but after your swift uncoupling it’s downright rude of him.

“Why am I in your bed?” His eyes roll slightly as he lifts up onto his right arm, rolling the thick, labor-built muscles of his neck and back. It’s mesmerizing, watching him work out the kinks that come with his profession. Your eyes unable to leave where his hand massages over that bronc tattoo you’re still weak over. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”

He’s sexy as hell, but you’ve been doing a really good job avoiding him the past year.

“D’ya not remember any of last night?” Your head shakes, cheeks heating. “Not even a little? Oh fuck, really? You had quite t’night, darlin’.”

The color completely drains from your face. In your hey day, the two of you could drink the bar under the table, stumbling out of the Handsome Gambler with the sloppiest grins and even sloppier kisses. Drunken shenanigans were the norm. 

But since your breakup last year, nights out had been quiet. A beer or two, a tequila shot when the time called. Your friends don’t have the tolerance of a bull rider. And neither do you anymore, since you can’t remember much past that third shot of Don Julio.

How had you landed in bed with Rhett Abbott? 

As you watch him roll out his other shoulder, it’s like no time has passed since that night. Sitting in his truck, the front porch light on as your roommates wait for you to come in. Deciding that if he’s gonna be traveling the mountain states to make a name for himself, it’s not fair for you to be sitting at home worrying what bone would break. You can’t take off weeks to follow him around. You’re too young to sit around pining. He can’t handle all that time away from you. It just makes sense to call it quits. And yet tears poured down both your cheeks when you shut that truck door for the last time, Rhett Abbott no longer your business.

Why are you here?

Blinking back the ghost of tears, you clear your throat. “What kind of night exactly?”

In the past, a night of too much tequila in Rhett’s bed would have had Royal knocking on the door at an ungodly hour and Cecelia giving you an exasperated yet playful look when you snuck out the back door in the morning. 

“Do ya really want t’know what happened?” He’s leaning against the headboard, broad chest in view, sheets low on his hips. You say one last prayer that he’s wearing sweats so that you can still believe that you didn’t have a blackout fuck with your ex.

“I’m scared to ask,” you admit, the gentle smirk on his face confirming that this story is not going to paint you in a flattering light. 

Rhett’s head tilts down as he laughs, teeth flashing as the hearty grumble fills the room. Looks back up at you with that boyish mischievous grin you’ve loved for years. There’s a pillow indent still marring his cheek. Your heart lurches for him, for when you could call him yours.

His lip quirks. “Ya threw a rock at m’window in the middle o’the night. Begged me to let ya in. Told ya to go home, but ya threatened t’wake up my folks.”

Your cheeks flame with shame. Drunk you was not in your corner.

“Snuck ya in the back door, like ol’ times. Said yer friends had dropped ya off, so let ya stay until ya sobered up.” The burning embarrassment lifts a little, imagining you quietly climbing in bed and sleeping. But that unruly mischievous smile is back. “Then ya started tellin’ me how much you miss my cock and asked t’go for a ride.”

A hole opening in the earth and swallowing you couldn’t make you escape this embarrassment.

“Please tell me I didn’t-”

“Oh, but y’did, darlin’. It wouldn’t be a drunk night out with ya without asking for m’fingers. Practically gagging for it as I got ya upstairs.” He’s radiating pride. You risk a glance at those thick, calloused fingers. Yep, you can see yourself begging for even just one of them.

“Then ya started strippin’ off yer pants…forgot how cute yer booty looks shakin’ like that.” He lets out a joyful grunt, the happiest sound a cowboy ever did make. “Had to hold yer hands to yer side to keep it from bein’ a free strip show.” 

You swallow down every ounce of your dignity, the scene playing behind your eyes. Those strong hands wrapped around your biceps. Your cheeky comments, grinding your ass on any part of him you could. The lack of inhibitions on your part was concerning, but when had you ever been able to restrain yourself when it came to Rhett?

His giggles fade as you both sit against the rough wooden headboard, the one that is nearly as old as this creaky house. In the silence of the room you can now hear the busy sounds of his folks making breakfast. Figures they still have that louder than sin coffee machine. You could really use a cup.

He shifts beside you, the energy in the room softer. “Ya know, after y’fell asleep, I kept on thinkin’ about all the times ya stayed over here. Nights in the pasture. We were s’good…” He trails off, the silence filled with reminders of rushed kisses between rides, lazy afternoons on horseback, and too many days spent in the barn pretending to do chores while the two of you fell in love. 

It was you. You couldn’t handle the broken bones. The purpled bruises week after week. He loved it, and you couldn’t take that from him. So you had left a part of yourself with him and spent the past year pretending like you weren’t missing a limb. It was him. He didn’t want to be always missing home. Canceling rides purely so he could drive hours back here. He cut his losses before he was in too deep, spending the last year acting like a chunk of his heart wasn’t permanently cemented in you.

When you two crossed paths in town you exchanged sad glances and half-hearted smiles. Nights at the Handsome Gambler a drink was raised in greeting. It was as painful and as amicable as a breakup could be. But this was the closest the two of you had been since that night in his truck. The most you’d spoken other than forced hello’s. The most you’d touched since that last kiss goodbye.

Looking into those impossibly deep oceans he calls eyes, there was an emotion that you couldn’t read. His smile gone, thin lips bitten as he worried them between his teeth. Mirth replaced with angst.

You need to get out of here.

“M’sorry for interrupting your night. You know my libido has her own brain when I drink. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair - think Ce will notice me going out the back door?”

You’re barely off the bed when an arm, all hard muscle and thick veins, wraps around your bicep and brings you to a warm chest. “I-I…just for a minute, ‘kay?”

It’s the best you’ve felt in so long. Safe, warm. He’d shaped perfectly to accommodate you. It’s only natural to scoot closer into him, blurring the lines of ended relationships to seek his comfort.

Rhett’s heartbeat is solid beneath your cheek, speed picking up when you curl into him and run your hand along his side. The rumble of his chest vibrates as he clears his throat. “Ya don’t have t’ leave. I like havin’ ya here, missed holding’ ya, yer so soft.”

You hum in agreement and then there’s a beat, and you can almost see the bashful grin splitting his face. “And yer s’sexy in those panties.”

At least you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

One of those perfectly large, comforting hands slides down your side, hitching your hip up so you can straddle his thigh. That thick expanse of pure muscle was exactly where you belonged.

You were already here, already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go the whole way.

“Rhett?” His eyes latch onto yours, eager to hear from you. “I don’t have to go. If you want to, uh, catch up?” If his hungry smirk wasn’t an indicator, the twitch in his boxers below speaks volumes.

Aware there’s an old house with no sound proofing and an entire family downstairs eating bacon, he rolls you over onto your back, rippling biceps boxing you in. That confident smirk that looks as in place in bed as it does atop a two ton bull. The hungover logic in your brain pleading you to go home not nearly as strong as the instant spring of your legs landing either side of his hips.

His lips ghost over yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. The slightest groan left you, eager to feel him. Taste him.

“Please…please don’t tease me.” His smirk is bordering on arrogant as you wrap impatient hands around strong shoulders. Your libido was making her triumphant return after not being satisfied the night before, pooling in the apex of your thighs as he presses against you. You want Rhett, and you want him now.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, a shadow of the real thing. “If y’can be quiet f’me, I’ll give you m’fingers, darlin’.”

Dignity fades to the back of your brain as you quickly nod at him, lips pressed close like a good girl.

Scruff scratches along your jaw as he hums along your skin, pressing his weight to one side as calloused fingers make their way south, slipping and catching against your soft skin. Both your eyes fluttering as cotton is pushed aside and he finds your clit, rubbing the softest of circles. His little chuckle at how wet you already are. Small whimpers leaving you before he finally tilts his head down to smother your lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Fuck, he’s an even better kisser than you remember.

Running a hand through those unruly curls, letting the dark hair tangle between your fingers as you fight to keep your moans contained. A struggle as he presses deliciously on the button, delighted at how you squirm against him. Lips ghosting against your ear as he moans your name. “Doin’ s’good for me.”

While his thumb continues its mind numbing descent on your clit, the tips of his fingers brush against your folds. He knows you love a tease, the promise of what’s to come. His special trick to getting you to your orgasm in less time than he rides a bull.

“R-Rhett.” Your voice is barely audible, struggling to keep yourself from screaming his name to the heavens. Your fingers never feel this good, nothing could ever be as satisfying as his touch. Your pathetic whimpers picking up speed as the blinding white pleasure threatened to overtake you.

“Are ya gonna cum for me, darlin’? Y’know y’want to. Cum for me, baby girl, show me how good I make y’feel.”

Scruff against your neck and jaw as he showers you in kisses, whispers praises in your ear, fingers stroking and rubbing and bringing you closer to the promised land. Slips that wild tongue between your lips, groaning at your familiar taste, and that’s all it takes.

A thousand years could pass and you would still remember how all-consuming every orgasm is that Rhett Abbott has given you. The flash behind your eyes, the constriction of your chest. Thanking the good Lord that Rhett’s tongue is deep in your mouth to shush the pleasured scream that threatens to escape. 

You settle from your orgasm with soft kisses and his wet fingers trailing along your skin, soothing you. Not that it’s easy to be soothed when his erection is throbbing against your thigh. He’s hot and ready, prepared to take you all the ways he’s denied himself the past year.

You’re doing the mental math. Your ex giving you an orgasm isn’t that bad. Fucking him? That’s the kind of mistake you can’t undo and should be avoided.

But when you look in those midnight blue eyes, all reason hightails out the door. It’s just sex - not a relationship - you two are so good at sex. And it’s been so long since you’ve taken him for a proper ride.

Your fingers sink into the back of his boxers, itching to sink your fingers into the meat of his ass - hard and toned from hours riding. Tease him a little by pressing a kiss to that scruffy chin as he ushers you along, desperate to be inside you.

Just as you get the checkered material past his cheeks, there’s a knock at the door. Rhett’s a deer in the headlights above you; wide, scared eyes aimed at the door.

It’s Cecelia, speaking through the wood as she walks past with the laundry. “Rhett, hurry up, y’got chores in the barn.” 

The two of you exchange a glance, relief at being in the clear.

“Oh, and sweetie? Since you’re still here, if you want breakfast, there’s some extra bacon.”

Abandoning my normal tag list since it's not Bob and tagging some fellow Rhett bb's who might enjoy: @bobfloydsbabe @sorchathered @bobgasm @auroralightsthesky @creatchie8 @just-in-case-iloveyou @ryebecca @sebsxphia @lewmagoo

[seeyalaterinnovator]

The Halocline - Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Reader gets roughed up a bit, Rhett comforts her

Warnings: reader is the victim of violence, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of a panic attack, no spoilers for outer range

Word count: 1.9K

Authors note: My friend sent my a requests with rhett abbott saying "Hey, just look at me. Breathe." ... I shamefully finally got around to it.. so here we are...

Keep reading below the cut

The cool Wyoming night air brushed against your exposed skin, each step carrying you closer to the Abbott house. Certainly someone was here, if not Rhett, since he wasn’t answering his phone. You prayed he was just asleep or his phone had died, and that’s why he wasn’t answering any of your calls. The porch groaned under your feet when you hobbled up the steps, up toward the door. 

You knocked once. No answer. It was late, late enough that most of the house would likely be asleep by now, having to get up early tomorrow for chores around the ranch. Cecilia was a light sleeper though, that you could count on. So you knocked again, this time with a little more force. Still no answer.

“C’mon, Rhett!” You cried, voice hoarse from the sobs that wracked your body earlier, raw from screaming for any kind of help that never came. 

Your fist pounded desperately against the screen door, the tinny noise echoed into the open air and died off in the howling wind. There was always someone in the Abbott house, of course except when you needed them the most. “Shit.” You mutter under your breath.

Goosebumps rose along the flesh of your arms, the reddened welts from earlier burning as you sucked in a deep breath and tried to figure out your next move. Tears welled in your eyes as a hopeless feeling settled deep in your chest, but you refused to let them fall, not until you were somewhere safe again. Trembling, torn up hands reach up to scrub at your face as you turned toward the barn. 

You noticed a faint yellow light flickering through the cracked barn door, likely forgotten by someone earlier. It wasn’t the comforting embrace of Rhett, but it would have to do. The barn was far better than trying to walk back to the pit bar to get your car and risk running into Trevor again. God knows what he would try this time. Maybe if you were lucky one of the Abbotts would find you here in the morning when they started their morning chores around the ranch. 

So with a grunt, you slowly made your way over to the barn where you would hopefully hide out amongst the bails of hay. Your footsteps were heavy, weighed down with exhaustion as you crossed into the barn, the dusty smell of hay and motor oil hitting your nose. To your surprise, a familiar form was hunched over the back workbench, a white cowboy hat hiding a head full of sandy brown hair. You nearly could have collapsed from relief.

“Rhett?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. 

“Sweetheart- what are you doin’ out here so late?” Rhett inquired, turning as he wiped his oil covered hands on an old rag. 

Stood in place, you couldn’t muster the strength to step any further into the light, to expose yourself to the careful scrutiny of his deep blue gaze. The sweet, lopsided smile that pulled at Rhett’s thin lips was discarded quickly, the tattered rag left on the dirt floor when he noticed the tear stained sheen on your cheeks. “Sweetheart? What happened?” His voice was heavier this time.

“I-..” All the air in your lungs dried up, leaving your chest deflated and empty. Paralyzed, your panicked gaze met his as you tried to choke in a breath. No air came though. Rhett saw your chest spasm with the effort of trying to suck in air. Quick to action, his booted feet carried him over to where you stood, though dread took pooled heavily in his gut.

“Jesus-” He gasped, his warm breath puffing out against your battered face. The first thing he noticed now that he was closer was the gash that marred your forehead, a steady trickle of blood trailed down the side of your temple and down your cheek. The second thing he noticed was the smattering of dark splotches that shadowed your skin, likely to be deep purple bruises by the morning. The third thing he noticed was you were without the sweater you always had on at this time of year. The neckline of your shirt was torn, seams ripped and stained crimson. You trembled in your spot, still frozen in place, skin peaked as shivers wracked your body. 

Rhett was quick to shuck off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders and tuck you into the warm fabric. His large, steady hands ran along the length of your arms, trying to rid you of the constant shivering. “Honey- who did this to you?” He kept his tone level, despite the anger that welled up inside him. 

You tried to answer, mouth opening around the Tillerson boy’s name, but all that came was a strained croak. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, burning as they rolled past the areas of broken skin. Hiccups soon took over, and breathing grew even harder. “Oh god!” You say between cries, grabbing a fist of hair and tugging at it hard enough that pain pricked your scalp. Anything to distract you from this drowning feeling that resided heavy in your chest.

With as much tender care as he could, Rhett grabbed a hold of your wrists and detangled your vice grip from your hair. His warm hands came to rest on your flushed cheeks, careful to avoid any area that looked cracked open. His touch was firm and steady as he squeezed just enough, holding your head steady and in line with his. “Hey..” He loosed a breath, barely a whisper as he searched your eyes.

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.” He instructed in a collected manner, held you steady in his grasp despite thrashing like a bull against his hold. “Sweetheart, breathe for me. You can do it.” Wild eyes met his, and for the first time that night you finally felt safe. At first, your breaths came in frantic puffs, but you focused on trying to force the air from your lungs and exchange it for new air, inhaling deeply and blowing it out on a steady controlled exhale. 

“That’s it, good job. Keep goin’.”He encouraged, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, despite the dried blood that flaked against your skin. 

You stayed like that for a while, breathing in and out, until Rhett was satisfied that you weren’t going to pass out on him from a lack of air. Now that the adrenaline had eddied away,  your head throbbed in time with your bounding heartbeat. You winced, shying away from the light once again. “Rhett I-”

“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up, okay?” 

There was no fight left, so you allowed Rhett to guide you into the house and up the rickety steps to the first clearing, where his room was. His hand stayed put on your low back, a calming presence as he pushed you into the threshold of his room and shut the door, careful not to wake anyone as it creaked shut. 

First he pulled off his jacket from your shoulders, blue eyes roaming over your skin. Now that he was in better light, he could see the large welts that covered your arms, and how your shirt was ripped in more than one place. His lips pressed together to keep the questions at bay, now wasn’t the time for an interrogation. He needed to get you patched up and in bed. 

“Come on.” He spoke softly as he took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips before he tugged you toward the bathroom. 

You hovered awkwardly in the doorway, unsure what to do with yourself. That was okay, Rhett knew what to do - probably better than anyone else in this house. His hands peeled away your tattered shirt and tossed it aside. He helped you sit on the countertop before turning on the faucet. The sound of the water filling up the sink was the only noise as you watched him rummage through the closet in search of the well used first aid kit. Rhett made quick work, using a pack of gauze to clean up your forehead so he could assess the damage. He didn’t think you’d need stitches, but he held pressure for good measure. You sucked in a breath, trying to back away from his hand. He muttered a soft sorry while he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to your forehead. 

“I was at the pit bar.” You mumbled, averting your gaze to your hands which gripped your thighs tightly. “I was just on my way out when Trever Tillerson wouldn’t let me past.” 

The words were heavy on your tongue, like you didn’t quite have the right words to say. Rhett didn’t stop cleaning your wound, needed to keep his hands moving so he didn’t do something stupid like track Trever down and kill him. You knew he was listening though. A muscle in his jaw ticked when you mentioned the name, he knew what kind of reputation Trever had.  “I tried to push past him, told him I wasn’t in the mood for his antics tonight. He didn’t like that.” The tears came softer this time, only rolling down your flushed cheek when you squeezed your eyes shut. “No one else was around, I tried calling out. He-”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. Not right now.” 

“Thank you.” You sighed. 

Rhett finished cleaning your wound in silence, placing an antibiotic ointment over the open part and smoothed a bandaid over the broken skin. His hands firmly grabbed your hips and helped you off the counter, led you back into the bedroom. He grabbed one of his old t-shirts, knowing how much you liked to sleep in them. 

“Arms up.” He instructed, sliding the tshirt over your head and helped you slide your arms through the holes. He then knelt down before you, sliding off your jeans, his warm hands grazing along your thighs. You grabbed ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself as he helped you step out of the fabric. “There you go.” 

As Rhett stood back up, he looked down at you, his gaze uncertain. A line formed between his brows, his eyes bouncing between your own as if searching through your soul. He whispered a soft ‘c’mere’ and pulled you into his strong embrace. His hands wrapped tightly around your shoulders and tucked you against his chest. You inhaled deeply, smelling the familiar, comforting scent of leather and tobacco he always carried. This was what home felt like. You nuzzled into him, muscles releasing the tension they held onto. 

“I love you.” Those three words felt right, certain even. Despite the night’s events, you knew you would be okay as long as you had Rhett. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” His pressed another kiss to the top of your head, and then tucked you under his chin. You listened to the steady beat of his heart, slightly faster than it usually was, as it thudded against your ear. 

It would be alright. This was your home. Rhett was your home.

[A/N]- this was inspired by the song The Halocline by Hippo Campus <3

[bobfloydsbabe]

arranged marriage au | rhett abbott x oc | sneak peek

Author's Note: This story it set at the turn of the 20th century, somewhere around 1899-1901. I haven't quite decided yet, but it's important context for this story. Women did not have a lot of autonomy at this time, which is reflected in Rhett and Lou's conversation in this sneak peek. Is the timeline right in a historical context? Probably not, but it's fiction, so I can do what I want. Enjoy!

Release Date: Unclear

“Louisa.”

“What?” Her face is all hard lines and thundering eyes. Something twists inside him at the sight of her ire.

“I don’t want to own you,” he says and steps closer, dirt crunching under his worn boots. “Your life is your own, even after we marry.”

She shakes her head, tears pooling in her dark eyes, making his chest feel tight. He yearns to move even closer, wrap his arms around her, and assure her that he doesn’t mean her any harm. Despite not having a choice, he wants to marry her. He wants to build a life and have a family with her.

He’s halfway in love with her already. He hopes one day she’ll love him too.

“You say that now,” she says, tears in her voice as she speaks. “But then I’ll argue or refuse to listen, and you’ll remind me you’re the man and you get the final say. You may not want to, but you will own me.”

Now he shakes his head, disbelief coursing through his veins. It’s the most preposterous thing he’s ever heard, and he hates that she thinks that way about him.

“Louisa,” he breathes, her name like a prayer on his lips as he closes the distance between them. “You belong to you. Not your father or to me or to anyone, and I’ll do what I can to prove it to you.”

She meets his gaze, bottom lip wobbling as she tries to hold back sobs. “You swear?”

He nods, lifts his hands and tentatively cups her cheeks. “I swear.”

Tension hangs heavy in the air between them, and without thinking, Rhett bends his head down towards hers. His heart thunders in his chest as their breaths mix, and heat blooms under his palms as Louisa’s cheeks grow red.

Their lips are a hair’s breadth from touching when a horse neighs, making her pull back and Rhett’s hands fall back at his side.

“I should get you home.”

He offers the crook of his arm, and she weaves her hand into it, letting him lead her to their horses. Their boots drag across the dirt, and Rhett helps her up on Sally, the reddish brown mare that belongs to his almost wife.

He settles on Blazer, and they begin the ride back to the Kinney Ranch.

“Rhett?”

If her scent didn’t linger, he might’ve forgotten she was even there. He looks to his right and finds her watching him, maybe even with a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“The house is lovely,” she tells him, tone shy and withdrawn for the first time since he’s known her.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @bobgasm, @attapullman, @cherrycola27, @bradshawsbaby, @kmc1989, @keyrani

[sunlightmurdock]

Can you do a cozy blurb with rhett abbott

-ˏˋ. actions / scenarios ˊˎ-

⋆ going to a carnival / fair

the fair | Rhett Abbott

warnings: none!

Rhett is actually the one to first suggest a trip to the county fair. It’s half to do with the slight guilt he feels about not being able to take you out more — money’s tight sometimes, and he’s often just so exhausted from work. But, the other half of his desire to take you out comes from the nostalgia of those places.

He’s holding back a grin like a little kid, his fingers laced through yours as he leads the way across the green-grass field. Ahead of you are stretches of neon string lights and whirling fairground rides, sounds of cheering and laughing.

Maybe it’s the noise that he likes best. It’s always so quiet out at the ranch, silence for miles and miles. It makes you learn to listen, learn to jump and get tense at the slightest sound.

There’s no chance of that way out here. The sounds all blend together, a happy kind of hum that makes him feel just a little more peaceful.

All of that combined with you, who seems to live to get under his skin in the best way, and still somehow manages to make him feel more settled than anyone in the world ever has.

Crisp leaves under your feet, the chill of the Wyoming winter creeping in through the end of autumn catching at your knuckles. One of Rhett’s old Carhartt jackets sits around your shoulders, a proud proclamation to the entirety of Wabang of exactly who you’re here with.

He’s leading the way confidently, brunette curls tucked under one of his trucker caps, boots crunching across the grass and brush. Wabang County Fair hosts an array of vendors every year, a lot of them local.

Homemade hard ciders from the Marsh family farm. Chilli from the pastor and his wife. Fresh, buttered popcorn sold by the elementary school teacher who had expelled Rhett as a kid.

She greets him with wide, cautious eyes and a stern hello. He grins as you giggle into his side.

He tells you their stories with an arm around your shoulder and his lips brushing at your earlobe. The chill in the air has you cuddling closer, but you’re far from looking for an excuse to do that.

You’ve got one eye on the spinning ferris wheel, too, watching the little pods glowing like stars in the darkening sky. Each one filled with smiling families or budding couples, whispering friends.

You bet that Rhett knows their stories too, and you know that he likes being the one not on the receiving end of the gossip for once.

After a scenic tour of each of the booths on the ground, Rhett catches sight of that spark in your eye as you look up at the moving ride. Squeezing you closer to him, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek as he turns and heads for it, with you in tow.

He’s got every intention of behaving on that ferris wheel, too. Sitting on the bench opposite you and taking in the view. You can see for miles up there, right across the stretching mountain ranges to the north. Grass and greenery for miles, the last of it before the season gets real grey and cold.

The ground below looks even more technicolour from way up here, glowing below you, abuzz with excited patrons.

Rhett’s got every intention of being a perfect gentleman on this date. Hell, he’s even planning on walking you to your door later and bidding you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek.

It’s just that right as your carriage reaches the very peak of the wheel, the whole thing comes to an abrupt stop. He can see the cold nipping at your skin, the slight shiver that wracks your body — the air’s just a little bit colder up here.

“It’s warmer over here, you know.” He tells you with a tip of his chin, his knees spreading just an inch further apart as his back settles against the bench behind him.

[lewinblue]

Running away With Cowboy Rhett

“So where are we going, baby?” He asked in his smooth drawl. As he started his truck his other hand found its way onto the part of your thigh that wasn’t covered by your dress.

You smirked cheekily and playfully swatted him away, knowing that if he did it again you would protest. From the smirk around his cigarette, it seemed he already knew.

“I figured we could close our eyes and point this shitty map and go where it takes us.”

“I’m fine with anything but the East Coast,” Rhett grumbled playfully.

“What? The beaches are for you?” You teased and pulled lightly on his worn flannel.

“Honey, I’m built for ranches and dirt.”

“Amd me.” You smiled sweetly and leaned in. He didn’t try to hide his smile as he leaned down and kissed you.

“While we’re making lists of places we don’t want to go, I don’t want to go to the south.”

Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows and you only shrugged your shoulder. “My hair will get frizzy.

He chuckled but closed his eyes before taking a minute to point to somewhere on the map. You both leaned in and nodded your heads.

“I can do Arizona,” Rhett said, “there’s plenty of ranches out there.”

Well, goodbye Wabang!” You cheered as Rhett laughed beside you. “Hello Arizona!

[withahappyrefrain]

8 or 58 for Bob or Rhett! ❤️💕

Thanks!! The list is excellent.

I went with number 8 for Rhett!

Rhett didn’t know why his mother insisted on getting a dog. It wasn’t as if they didn’t already have several ranching dogs. 

“It’s different! They essentially work for the ranch, they’re not a pet.”

So he wasn’t surprised when Ceceila brought home a cocker spaniel puppy. She would never go for a rescue, which is what Rhett wanted (as if he had a say). 

And Rhett certainly didn't have a say when it came to taking care of Bella. As the puppy grew, so did Rhett’s responsibilities. Amy lost interest when the dog was no longer puppy sized, and Cecilia got more involved in the church as a way to deal with the shitshow that was her eldest son. 

Which is how Rhett found himself driving Bella to the dog park. Because when the only shit to do is drink and watch bull rides, Wabang lost their minds over the new pet friendly park that was thirty minutes away. 

“Is it that important she goes?” Rhett mumbled when Cecilia told him of his new afternoon plans. 

“Of course! She has friends Rhett. And Bella will be so sad if she doesn't see her friends, won't you, pretty girl?” she cooed to Bella, who was currently sitting on the couch despite Royal saying that's exactly where he didn't want the dog to sit. 

But it was nice to break the monotony of his day. Plus, it meant going to the outskirts of Cheyenne, which was still more developed than Wabang. Hell, he could even stop by Taco Bell on the way back, a rare treat. Bella could have a bowl of their potatoes, just without all that fake cheese sauce. His ma would kill him if she found out she let Bella eat such ‘trash food’, as if her cooking was any better. 

So there he was, making his way towards the enclosed area, Bella tugging away. 

“Hey, quit it!” He grunted, already regretting this. Rhett had half a mind to just go to Taco Bell now but then Bella let out that whine, the one that tugged on Rhett’s heartstrings. 

He wasn't a monster, despite what folks insisted. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll go in. But just for a little bit and you better behave yerself,” Rhett instructed before opening the gate. 

Bella trotted in, immediately going up to several dogs to sniff. 

Rhett found himself a corner where he could keep an eye on the dog, but was away from other people. He felt out of place with his hand me downed Caharrat jacket and worn boots. There were several people in the park who he found cute, but like hell if he was going to go up and talk to them. 

After Maria left for the second time, Rhett imposed a ban on dating. At least for a while. After all, there’s only so many times a cowboy can try his best and get his heart broken in the end. 

So instead, he watched Bella, who had now found herself a friend. Out of all the dogs in the park, Rhett found this one to be the cutest; caramel color coat with black fur surrounded their nose, expressive ears that were just a little too big for their body and a tail that went one hundred smiles per hour. Had to be some type of pitt mix, given their bicycle seat shaped head, which was perfect for pets. That was the kind of dog Rhett would want. 

Bella seemed just as interested as Rhett, walking with the dog. Well, actually, more like following. He saw the other dog continuing to look back, seeing if Bella was still there. 

“Hey Bella, quit it!” Rhett grumbled. Not that she listened. Great. His first time here and Bella was going to get them kicked out. 

“C’mon Bella,” Rhett walked over to his mother’s dog, hoping he could just pick her up and take her home. 

But the other dog had different plans. As soon as they saw Rhett, their tail wagged furiously as they came up to him, practically begging for pets. 

Rhett Abbott was not a monster.

“Hey sweet girl,” He kneeled down, allowing the dog to seat themselves in between Rhett’s legs, “Is Bella bothering you? You want me to tell her to stop?”

The dog put his front paws up on Rhett’s thigh, gaining access to his face. Her breath wasn’t the greatest, but with a face like that, how could he be mad?

“I swear, she comes here for the people, not the dogs,” A sweet voice said. 

Rhett looked up, only to have his breath taken away by you. You, who were without a doubt, the sweetest person Rhett had ever seen. 

“Hey Bella girl!” You cooed, kneeling down to give Bella some pets, “I know you want to play, but Noodle is a covid puppy. She just wants pets.” 

“Well, Bella needs to learn how to listen. Least she could do,” Rhett replied as he continued to pet Noodle, who was determined to lick the side of Rhett’s face. 

“You must be one of Cecelia's sons?” Oh god. What had Cecelia already told you? His chances were already ruined before he could even start. 

“Uh yeah. ‘M Rhett,” he reached out to shake your hand, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt. 

“Oh! The bull rider!” You exclaimed. If that was all Cecelia had told you, Rhett was never going to complain (out loud) about his mother’s cooking ever again. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” He barely got out, his cheeks heating up. 

“I also hear you’re the best Uncle to Amy,” there was a grin on your face, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Well, I’m her only Uncle,” Rhett mumbled, failing to realize the joke. 

Luckily you found it pretty cute. Along with the way he was so loving and gentle towards your dog. 

“It’s okay if Bella continues following Noodle around. Noodle doesn’t mind, especially if it’ll help her get more pets,” you assured, gently squeezing Rhett’s hand to remind him to let go.

“The spot I was in has a good view of the whole dog park….if you want me to keep an eye on them.” Why would you want to stand next to him, God, he was so stupid and-

“I would love to join you, if that’s alright!”

Oh. 

[lewmagoo]

we own the sky | rhett abbott

part one: ain’t no love in oklahoma

series info: new parts will be uploaded every friday at 7pm est. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.

description: in which you return to the place where you lost everything

warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!

You never thought you would return to the place where you lost everything. 

When you left, you had sworn to yourself that you would never come back. This part of your life, the unspeakable tragedy you had endured, had to stay in the past where it belonged. And for six years, you managed to make yourself forget while you moved on with life.

You knew it wasn’t just you who had been affected by what happened. It had touched the lives of multiple people, shattering everything around them. But while they had stayed, you had decided to run. Away from the agony, away from the memories, away from the man you loved. It was better that way. At least, that was what you told yourself. 

Now you found yourself standing in the middle of the rolling plains of the place that you used to live, wisps of tall grass brushing against your legs as the breeze rushed over the earth. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign. You felt so out of place, like an alien that had just descended the sky and landed on Earth for the very first time.

As you bent to pluck a stalk of switchgrass, you were struck with a memory of the day you left. Sprawled out in the long grass, your first love lying at your side. Rhett Abbott. The man you had known since you were mere babies in the church nursery together. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving. But in your heart of hearts, you knew this was the way it had to be. You couldn’t look at him without being reminded of all you had lost. Of all he had lost. 

“I wish you’d stay,” his voice, filled with longing, cut into the still morning air. Such a contrast to the chaos that had transpired in recent days.

“You know I can’t,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break, and you would succumb to tears.

“We can figure things out, you an’ me. Work through it together.”

“Rhett–”

“Fuckin’ twister took so much from us. Now you’re leavin’, too.” Defeat was evident in his voice.

You sat up, turning to look down at him. “We talked about this, Rhett. I have to leave.”

He sat up, too, nodding somberly. “Y’don’t have to. You just can’t stand the thought of facin’ reality. So you’re runnin’ from it.” Then he rose to his feet, grass crunching beneath him. “Not all of us have the luxury of bolting when things get tough, honeybee. The rest of us have gotta stay and face it head-on.”

Then he walked away, and you let him, knowing this would be the last time you would see him. A love lost. 

Yet here you were again, in the same field where your romance had ended. However, you weren’t here to see him. You had returned to tie up loose ends, and face the past you had spent the last handful of years running from.

Rhett had been right about one thing. You needed to face it all head-on. But you weren’t sure if you had the strength to do so.

Being back in your hometown of Wabang, Oklahoma was a surreal experience. Nothing and everything had changed all at once. Dorothy McIntyre still owned Mac’s Diner on Main Street. Mrs. Simmons still tended to her rose garden every single day, keeping it in pristine condition. The local Baptist church still looked exactly the same as the day you left. 

It felt like the town was stuck in time.

But there were also some changes. A new bar had opened up in town. A coffee shop, too, which was quite the upgrade. Even though life was slow moving here, it still continued on, just like it did everywhere else. 

Coming back was never something you thought was in the cards for you, but a handful of your family members had remained here when you left. Including your great-aunt. Sadly, she had recently passed away, and you’d surprised yourself by willingly volunteering to go sort through her belongings and prepare her house to be sold.

You had a good portion of vacation days saved from your job at the National Weather Service Headquarters, and you decided to take them while you had the chance. Instead of going on a fun getaway, you were cleaning out a house that was just a few steps down from a hoarding house. 

Your poor aunt had gotten rather forgetful in her old age, and had let so much clutter accumulate. Her declining physical health and mental capacity had inhibited her from cleaning, and, unfortunately, her children were not the most diligent when it came to looking after their mother, so no one had helped her with clearing any of the clutter when she was alive. 

That was where you came in. And you certainly had your work cut out for you. But you didn’t mind too terribly. You were glad to have a break from work. Monitoring weather was quite literally a 24/7 thing. You loved your job, but you often felt as if you were running about like a chicken with its head cut off.  

Especially now. It was late spring, and the weather had been wild and unkempt. It had a mind of its own, and with all the freak storms ripping through seemingly every state in the US, the National Weather Service was extremely busy. 

And here you were, in the heart of Tornado Alley, which had seen a record-breaking uptick in tornado activity this season. You couldn’t deny that the thought of being here during this season made your anxiety skyrocket. 

Where you lived now, in Maryland, tornadoes weren’t commonplace. They happened, yes, but not nearly as often as they did in your home state of Oklahoma. 

You had once loved studying the phenomenon of twisters. There had been a time when they fascinated you. A time when you chased after them to analyze their data. And then, one terrible, fateful day, while observing one of those vicious twisters, the unthinkable happened. 

Six Years Ago

“This one’s gonna be a big one. I can feel it,” Rhett’s voice was laced with electric excitement. He was a live wire, blue eyes wide and glimmering with his eagerness. 

His excitement rubbed off on you. You loved doing this together. It was what you were meant to do. “I can, too,” you replied with a grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

He leaned in, his gaze flickering to your lips before he ducked his head to kiss you languidly. “Ready to wrangle this twister?” He asked. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Could’ya get a room?” Another voice cut across the site, interrupting your moment. 

Rhett scowled as he looked over your shoulder to find his brother approaching. “Just for that, I’m kissin’ her again.” He pulled you in and planted another kiss on you, dialing it up to disgust Perry all the more.

You shoved at Rhett’s chest, giggling when you parted. “Maybe let’s not gross out everyone within a ten-mile radius,” you joked, though you still leaned in to steal one last peck from him. 

“When you two are done neckin’, you might wanna pay attention to the radar. Winds are pickin’ up,” Perry explained, tapping the screen that was currently resting on the tailgate of Rhett’s truck.

“Think this one’s gonna touch down?” Came the voice of Rebecca, Perry’s wife, as she approached, tugging her ball cap down over her blonde ponytail. 

“Look at them clouds. It’s gotta,” Rhett mused, motioning toward the sky. Angry, black clouds roiled in the distance. Perry was right, the wind was picking up. Although it wasn’t cold, it still sent a shiver down your spine.

Lightning crackled across the gray backdrop, and thunder subsequently rumbled in the distance. As you felt the first drops of cool rain, you locked eyes with Rhett. His face broke into a grin.

“Let’s get goin’!” He called out, retrieving his worn felt hat, the one you’d gotten him on his eighteenth birthday, and placing it atop his head. 

You found yourself laughing with glee as you moved to scurry to the passenger seat of his rickety old GMC Sierra that had seen more storms than you could count. As you wrenched the door open, the sound of scrambling footsteps alerted you that someone was approaching quickly. You turned to find Lydia, your best friend, running toward you, her French braids bouncing wildly about.

“Don’t forget this!” She called out, shoving a walkie-talkie into your hand. Her own remained clipped to the waistband of her cargo pants. 

“Thanks!” You replied. “You riding with us or with Perry and Bec?”

“I’ll ride with them, since they’ve got more room and all,” she told you. Unlike Rhett’s truck, Perry’s had a backseat.

“Okay, see you after the storm. Be careful, alright?” You surged forward and gave her a quick hug. Your friendship went way back to childhood, when you had met each other in kindergarten. You had been inseparable ever since. With your shared fascination with the weather, it was only natural that she would decide to chase twisters alongside you.

“Let’s go to that new ice cream place when we’re done!” She suggested when you parted. 

“Sure, I’ll mention it to Rhett. See ya in a bit!” With that, you yanked the truck door open and climbed inside, while Lydia rushed off to get into Perry’s truck. 

As you settled in the seat, you set your walkie down in the cupholder and grabbed the monitor you used to keep an eye on the weather radar. There, at the top of the screen, you saw the red banner that listed which counties had just been put under tornado watches. 

Glancing back up at the sky, your heart quickened in your chest. While it wasn’t guaranteed that a twister would touch down, it was a very high possibility, especially with the string of storms that had ripped through the area lately. 

“Let’s go chase this son’bitch,” Rhett murmured as he settled into the driver’s seat, tugging his seatbelt into place. He turned the key, and the truck roared to life. Without wasting a single moment, he threw the gear into drive and peeled out of the vacant lot you’d all been congregating in. 

He kept to the east of the storm, offering you the best vantage point. Most storms moved northeast, at thirty to forty miles per hour, so you had to move fast to keep up. Rhett stepped on the accelerator, wasting no time. He was vibrating with adrenaline beside you, and it was infectious. 

He always had been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. When he was in high school, he’d started bull riding competitively. He loved the thrill, the danger, the electricity he felt atop a thousand-pound animal. 

Chasing twisters was similar to bull riding. Trying to hold on for dear life as an angry, churning force threatened to toss you through the air like a rag doll. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. 

His love of the thrill and your fascination with weather made you a dream team. 

Turning it into a family affair wasn’t necessarily the goal, but Rebecca found the phenomenon of tornadoes fascinating, and Perry was simply along for the ride, so the four of you started storm chasing together. 

And of course, Lydia had been on board from the moment you suggested it. Much like Rhett, she also loved thrill seeking, and was content to join your little team. She was particularly good at analyzing storm data. Her entire motivation was figuring out how twisters worked. 

Meteorology was a science that was relatively new. While the study of weather itself had been around for millennia, it didn’t quite progress until scientists began utilizing computers to analyze meteorological data. 

Even with all the progress that had been made, tornadoes were difficult to study. Things like hurricanes and tropical storms were easier to predict and monitor. But not twisters. They were wild, uncontrollable beasts that could touch down at any moment and wreak all sorts of havoc in mere seconds.

Lydia wanted to learn all she could about the phenomena, and so did you. Your shared interest allowed you to work very well together. 

You were so grateful for the little group you worked with. Four people you loved very much. You’d known Rhett, Perry, and Lydia your entire life, of course, and Rebecca was a newer addition. She’d joined you in the last five years, but she was an excellent asset with her history as a news meteorologist. 

What a merry band of storm chasers you were, heading into the face of danger, hoping to encounter one of the most mysterious weather anomalies in existence. 

“How’s she lookin’, darlin’?” Rhett asked, one hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh lovingly. 

You gazed down at the screen in your lap, paying attention to the large highlighted region that showed which direction the storm was moving. The severity was mounting. 

“Pretty intense,” you answered. Then, as if on cue, the telltale sound of hailstones began to patter against the roof of the truck. Your face broke into a grin. 

Over the walkie, Lydia’s voice could be heard. “We’ve got hail!” She cried in excitement. 

The shift in temperature was a good sign. These were peak conditions for a tornado to form in. You grabbed the hand Rhett had placed on your leg, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed right back. 

Moments later, the hail died down, and you opened the truck window, listening. A crack of thunder in the distance. And then, a split second of utter silence. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

You turned your head, looking straight at Rhett. The blue of his eyes was bright as could be, shining with anticipation. 

And then, just beyond him, you saw it. 

“Holy shit.”

He glanced to his left and saw it too. A few hundred yards from you, in the open fields, a funnel cloud had begun to form. Your eyes never left it, staring at the sky, willing the funnel to touch down. 

“Come on, come on, come on.”

“We got touchdown yet?!” Rhett asked, eyes half on the road, half on the funnel. 

Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 

And then, all at once, it made contact with the ground. Lydia was shouting through the walkie, and you grabbed the device to answer her. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your teeth chattering as adrenaline began to course through you. 

What a beautiful sight it was. Terrifying and destructive, but beautiful. 

“Goddamn, look at that,” Rhett breathed in awe. He kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator, maintaining a fast pace, staying just ahead of the swirling tunnel of wind. 

But your spirit of wonder soon dissipated as you noticed something. “It looks like it’s getting bigger,” you remarked. The change was obvious. It was covering more ground. Moving faster and faster. 

Within seconds, your entire life was turned upside down. 

“Oh my God. Rhett…” Your voice failed you, coming out as more of a whisper. You gripped his arm, and he quickly brought both hands to the steering wheel, knuckles white. 

He gazed out at the approaching swirl, and he knew he was no longer chasing the storm. No, this time, the tides had turned. 

Now it was time to run. 

You scrambled for the walkie-talkie, fingers closing around the plastic, but it flew out of your hands as Rhett slammed on the brakes. You let out a yelp as you plummeted forward, seatbelt stopping you from hitting the dashboard. 

“We gotta find cover!” He shouted, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling his own seatbelt. His face was awash with fright, pale as could be. He pointed to your right. “Old Miller property’s over there. Maybe we can make it to the storm cellar!”

Terror-stricken, you scrambled to open your door, tumbling out onto the asphalt. As soon as you righted yourself, Rhett was grabbing you, hand tight on your bicep, dragging you across the road. Your boots crunched against gravel, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the roar of the wind.

It was so close you could feel it tugging at your clothes. A vortex threatening to swallow you whole. If it overtook you, you’d never make it out alive. 

Together, you dashed across an old wheat field, straight for the Miller farm. It had been abandoned for years, but the storm shelter remained, and it was your best chance at survival. 

You could see it just up ahead, jutting slightly from the ground. But your legs ached, and your lungs burned like fire as you struggled to take in gulps of air. So close yet so far. Just a little further. 

You’d never been so terrified in your life. You understood now what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes. Yours did at that moment, as you ran alongside the man you loved. 

Images of your family, memories of all the good times you’d had with Rhett, flashes of laughing and singing and being young and foolish and so full of wonder. Was it all for naught? 

“C’mon, baby! We’re almost there!” His desperate shout filled your ears. He yanked you toward him and you nearly lost your footing, and for one horrifying moment, you thought you were going to fall, but Rhett caught you in his strong arms, continuing on across the field. 

By the grace of the Almighty, you made it to the shelter. Rhett threw himself down, lifting the iron bar that was fastened across the rusted doors. Hinges squealed as he heaved them open, and he pulled you forward, urging you down the rickety old ladder into the abyss below. 

You scrambled down, and he followed, slamming the door shut as he did so. When you reached the end of the ladder, your feet hit the floor unsteadily, and you yelped as your foot gave out beneath you, ankle twisting painfully. But your injury was the least of your worries. 

In the inky darkness, Rhett landed beside you and reached out, grabbing you, pulling you close. 

“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors. 

“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

He held you, his large hands covering your ears as the violent storm raged above you. 

Often, tornadoes were described as sounding like a freight train, and you would agree with that statement, having witnessed so many of them. But right now, as you huddled beneath the ground right below the savage phenomenon, it didn’t sound like a train at all. 

It sounded like the world was coming to an end. 

You weren’t entirely certain how long you stayed down there, pressed against the earth, as Rhett shielded you. It felt like hours. Days. Weeks. 

And then, all at once, it stopped. 

The world went quiet again. Nature went back to its natural order. The danger had passed. 

You laid there for a few moments, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing. You were trembling. So was he. But you were alive. 

“Are you okay?” Rhett asked as he lifted his body from yours, kneeling beside you. 

You sat up, trying to find your voice. “Y-yeah. Are you?”

“I’m fine,” he breathed. 

And then, “Oh my God. Perry, Bec and Lydia!”

You hurried to stand, and Rhett grabbed your arm, leading you both through the dark, feeling for anything that might be in your path. Once he’d grabbed onto the ladder, he ascended it first, grunting as he reached up to open the doors. 

Daylight flooded the cellar, and you shielded your eyes for a moment before you took hold of the ladder yourself and began climbing. 

As you both emerged, the sight you were met with was harrowing. The old Miller farmhouse was entirely decimated, blown flat to the ground like a house made of popsicle sticks. The barn was destroyed, too, pieces of red painted wood littering the surrounding property. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. That had to be an EF4. Maybe even a five,” Rhett said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, jaw slacken. 

A sob tore itself from your throat as you turned, fully taking in the level of damage around you. There was seemingly no sign of Perry’s truck. 

“Do you think they found cover?” You asked, voice trembling. 

Rhett’s face was grim, but he still said, “‘m sure they did, they’re smart, they’re probably just hunkerin’ down in a ditch somewhere.” Then he grasped your hand. “Let’s head out to the road and see if we can fine ‘em.”

You intertwined your fingers with his and followed, but your stomach was in knots. What if your friends had been consumed by the storm? What if they were dead?

As you walked, you both called out for them, hoping they’d hear and yell back. But your voices bounced off of the eerily silent countryside. Such a contrast to the chaos that had just transpired. 

“They can’t have gone too far. They were right behind us,” Rhett spoke. You could hear the distress in his voice, although he was trying to keep himself steady for you. 

You scanned the horizon, and that’s when you saw it. A long ways off, the silhouette of an overturned truck could be seen. Perry’s truck. 

“Rhett,” came your whisper. 

“I see it.”

Together, you broke into a run, sprinting across the road and into the field on the other side. Faster and faster, desperate to see what was inside the truck. Praying it was empty, that your friends had found cover. 

You came to a stop once you were within a few feet of the truck, and Rhett held out his arm, glancing back at you as he caught his breath. “Just wait, I’ll check,” he told you. 

You shook your head, breathing still labored. “No, let’s look together.”

Holding his gaze, a beat passed before he reached for your hand again. Together, you cautiously approached the truck, which was turned onto its side. It was severely battered, damaged beyond repair. 

As you rounded the front, you peered down into the window and your blood ran cold. “Oh dear God.”

Rhett jumped into action, climbing atop the side of the truck. The driver's side glass was shattered, allowing him to reach in. “Per!” He exclaimed, gripping his brother’s shirt, tugging him upward. “Perry!”

But he got no response. The man was unconscious. A nasty gash marred the side of his head, crimson blood trickling down his face. He was terribly pale.

Beneath him, Rhett could see Rebecca. His heart sank like a rock. Just from the way she was positioned, he could tell she was not going to fare well. He couldn’t see if her chest was rising and falling or not. And when he squinted to look into the back seat, he saw Lydia, slumped over, but he couldn’t tell if she was dead or just merely unconscious.  

“Are they alive?!” You couldn’t tell from your vantage point. All you could see was Perry and Rebecca. If Lydia was still in the truck, she was concealed in the back. 

“I-I can feel a pulse, but Perry’s bleedin’ real bad. Call 911!” He didn’t give you any information about the girls. 

“Rhett, the girls! Are they—”

“Just call an ambulance!” He repeated with urgency. 

You did as you were told, hurrying to grab your phone from your pocket, hands shaking fiercely as you dialed the emergency number. You prayed you would get an answer, knowing the call lines would be flooded after the storm. 

Moments later, an operator answered. Panicked, you explained your situation, begging them to send help. The woman remained calm, asking for your name and location, assuring you that assistance was on the way. You had no recollection of what you said to her. Everything was a blur, adrenaline giving you tunnel vision.

After you hung up the phone, Rhett jumped down from the truck. You threw yourself into his arms as he neared you, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They said they’re on their way,” you whimpered. 

He hugged you close, and you could feel the way he trembled. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to pull him out. The EMTs should be the ones to do it, just in case anythin’ is broken.” While that was partially true, he was also terrified that if he started pulling everyone out, he’d find the girls were dead. It would bring reality crashing down upon him. The thought made his gut churn with dread, and he found himself praying to a God he didn’t even believe in, asking Him to spare his brother and his sister-in-law, and your dearest friend Lydia. 

It took longer than usual, because so many ambulances had already been dispatched to aid those harmed in the storm. But as time ticked on, the more worried you became. “I’m scared,” you whimpered.

Rhett held you tighter, resting his cheek atop your head. He felt so powerless. “I know. Me too.”

Moments later, the wail of emergency vehicle sirens could be heard. Multiple ambulances and a firetruck approached, all pulling into the grass toward the scene. Rhett let you go, the two of you jogging ahead to meet the first responders.

“There’s three of ‘em in the truck!” Rhett exclaimed, “they’re all unconscious, from what I could tell!”

“We’ll get them out!” One of them assured you both. 

You watched as they all rushed toward the truck, firefighters and EMTs alike. Helplessly, you remained on the sidelines, clinging to Rhett, fingers clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. 

He wanted to tell you they’d be okay. That everything was going to be fine, that your friends were unharmed. But in his heart, he knew nothing would ever be okay again. 

Perry was pulled from the vehicle first, still unconscious. Together, you watched as he was placed on a gurney, where an EMT hurriedly checked his vitals, searching for life. 

“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak!” The young woman shouted. 

He was alive. That was a good sign, right? Maybe it meant the girls were alright as well. You could only hope. 

A saw was taken to the door, and it was removed so that the inside of the truck was more easily accessible. Then they pulled Rebecca out. She was so still, unresponsive as she was hauled down to a second gurney. 

You heard a voice shout that they couldn’t find a pulse. 

You placed your hand over your mouth, a grieved whimper escaping your throat. Rhett’s name slipped past your lips, and you buried your face in his chest, unable to watch. You could hear his sharp intake of breath. 

Then Lydia was pulled from the wreckage. While you kept your face hidden against Rhett, he watched on, and he knew, just from the sight of her, that she was gone.

His grip tightened on you. It felt as if a dagger had been plunged into his chest. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment as the weight of what was happening settled upon him. 

You lifted your head at that very moment, and you turned, realizing your best friend had been taken out of the truck. On instinct, you tried to pull away from Rhett. Tried to run toward the scene, to see for yourself if Lydia was alright. 

But Rhett held you back. “No,” he told you. 

“Let me go, I need to see if she’s okay!”

He repeated himself. “No.” He would not release you, no matter how hard you struggled. 

Tears blurred your vision. “Rhett, please! I need to know if she’s alive!” 

He grabbed both of your shoulders and looked right into your eyes. “Darlin’, stop! Just let ‘em do their jobs!” He didn’t want you near it. Didn’t want you to witness death up close and personal like that. It would haunt you forever. 

Your knees buckled, and he caught you as you fell into him, wailing from the weight of your pain. Brokenhearted, Rhett cradled you in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. 

And then one of the sheriff’s deputies was approaching. Linden Haynes. “You two need an escort to the hospital?” He asked, voice low. Knowing you’d both want to go in support of your friends. 

Rhett nodded, trying to find his voice. “Yeah…yeah. Thanks. I, uh, don’t know where my truck got blown to.”

Linden hummed, his face sympathetic. “No problem. We’ll find your truck somewhere. Once things calm down, I can see if we can get some deputies searchin’ for it.” He moved to walk away, motioning for you both to follow. 

“Linden, are…are they okay?” you heard yourself speak. 

He turned, trying to mask his expression, but you could see it in his eyes. He had witnessed the wreckage firsthand. He’d seen the EMTs and firefighters rescuing your friends. He knew. 

“Let the docs and nurses at the hospital tell you that, they’ll know more than me,” was his response.

Defeated, you followed him to his squad car, your body still leaning into Rhett. You climbed into the backseat together, and as soon as you were settled, you buried your face in your hands, trying desperately to hold yourself together. But you were unraveling, and the dread was threatening to swallow you whole. 

The hospital was in a frenzy when you arrived. So many people hurt in the storm. You heard murmurs of the tornado being an EF5, which made your eyes go wide as you looked at Rhett. It was a wonder you’d even made it to safety. 

Sitting there in that hospital waiting room was the most excruciating moment of your life. Hoping your friends would survive. Knowing that they might not. 

Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him. 

You sat side by side on vinyl-covered chairs, holding each other’s hands in a death grip, startling anytime a doctor or nurse walked by, thinking one of them was coming to give you an update. 

Finally, an update did come. 

You had no recollection of ending up on the floor. But there you were, crumbled against the cool tile as Rhett tried to console you, while simultaneously wracked with grief himself. 

They were dead. Lydia and Rebecca. They were dead, and they had been since they were pulled from the wreckage. Perry, however, was alive, but just barely holding onto life. 

The doctor was a family friend. He offered to contact yours and Rhett’s respective families. It was all a bur. And then you found yourself in Perry’s hospital room, which was stone silent, filled with dreadful anticipation. 

Your memory of that day was patchy at best. Your brain had filtered out some of the more traumatic parts, forcing you to forget. The weight of your anguish made it feel as if you were underwater, being pulled down by a cinder block tied to your ankle. No matter how hard you pedaled, you couldn’t come back up to the surface. 

Late into the night, Perry succumbed to his injuries, too. He slipped away, with his family surrounding him. Worst of it all? His four-year-old daughter was left an orphan in the wake of her parents’ deaths. 

You lost a piece of yourself when three of the dearest people in your life were taken from you. It sent both you and Rhett into a spiral. He blamed himself. You blamed yourself. It was something you could not move past. Every time you looked at him, it was a reminder of that fateful day a twister took everything from you. 

You couldn’t bear it any longer. So you ran. You left Rhett. You left all you had ever known. And you told yourself you would never come back. 

Present Day

Until now. 

You were hoping to go undetected. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing anyone from your past. Least of all Rhett. With the way you left things between you and him, you doubted he wanted to see you anyway. 

But you should have known you couldn’t hide forever. 

You had been planning to stay in your aunt’s house while you were in town, but when you arrived and saw the dire state it was in, you realized sleeping there wasn’t feasible. So you decided to stay at the only motel in town. 

Before checking in, you needed to stop by the store to buy a few necessities that you had forgotten to pack. You wondered if anyone would recognize you. Had you changed much physically over the last six years? You thought you had, but maybe others wouldn’t notice the change. 

You managed to slip into the store without being recognized. You went about your entire shopping trip, remaining anonymous. You paid for your things without a single soul uttering your name. But just when you thought you were home free, you saw someone who made you stop dead in your tracks for the briefest of moments. 

Cecilia Abbott. 

Your heart rate picked up, anxiety sizzling through your veins like a live wire. She hadn’t seen you yet, too busy bagging her groceries to notice. Perhaps, if you were quick enough, you could evade her and make your escape. 

You almost did, too. Until you heard the sound of your name being called. 

You flinched, pausing for a moment, debating whether you should keep going. But then she was descending upon you and you had nowhere else to go. 

“It can’t be! After all these years?!” The woman exclaimed. 

Slowly, you turned around, trying your best to put on a pleasant expression, masking your look of distress. “Cece, hi!” You greeted. You had no idea how this was going to go. Would she be angry at you for walking out on her son? Would she welcome you back to town with open arms?

She stared at you in disbelief, shopping bag balanced in the crook of her elbow. “Goodness, how long’s it been?” But she knew how long it had been. She never lost count of how many years had passed since the death of her child. 

“Six years,” you heard yourself reply. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 

“Wow. I can’t believe it.” Cecilia shook her head. “It’s almost like seein’ a ghost! Never thought you’d come back.”

“I didn’t either. But I, uh…I’m here cleaning out my aunt’s place.”

Her face softened, and she shifted, leaning toward you. “I’m sorry. She’ll be missed around here, that’s for sure. S’ a good thing you’re takin’ on the responsibility of cleanin’ that house, though. She did let it go in her old age.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, she really wasn’t there mentally the last few years of her life. It’s sad. But, I’m hoping to have the house looking good as new when I’m done with it.”

Cecilia shifted her bag of groceries to her other hand. “Say, you got a place to stay while you’re in town?” 

“I was going to stay at the house, but it’s too much of a disaster. I’m just gonna get a motel room.” 

You should have known what she would say next. Gasping, she reached out and touched your arm. “Nonsense! You should come stay at our house!”

Your eyes widened. She wasn’t serious, was she? After all that had transpired? “Oh, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

But once Cecilia Abbott’s mind was set on something, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “No imposition at all! Home cooked meals, and a clean bed that doesn’t have bed bugs like that nasty ole motel does. The Bed Bug Inn, that’s what everyone calls it. Plus, we’re not that far from your aunt’s, just down the road. Closer than the motel is.”

She did have a point. But you couldn’t fathom the thought of stepping back onto the Abbott property again. You couldn’t face the demons you’d left there. “Cece, I appreciate it, but—”

“I insist. You at least need to come for dinner! I’m makin’ roast tonight, y’know, the one Rhett always loved? If you decide you still don’t want to stay after that, that’s fine. But you have to let me feed ya, I’m not gonna let you go hungry, girl.”

At the mention of Rhett’s name, your breath caught in your chest. “Oh, um… Rhett, how is he?” Your voice raised a little in pitch, and you cleared your throat. 

“He’s fine. Still livin’ in the house with us, but he’s gone all the time. Storm chasin’ business keeps him busy.”

He was still chasing? “I can’t believe he’s still going after storms,” you spoke in disbelief. 

Cecilia shrugged. “He never lost his love for it,” she mused. For a moment, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. Likely the way she had lost her son to the very thing Rhett loved doing. 

Then she snapped out of it. “Anyway, come over for supper! Five o’clock!” Without giving you a chance to protest, she turned on her heel and bustled out of the store, leaving you with no choice but to take her up on her offer. You didn’t want to offend her by not showing up. 

But could you handle it? Stepping back into the past, into a version of yourself that you had not been in six years. You thought of Amy, Perry and Rebecca’s daughter. She would be nine years old by now. Would she even remember you? Would she blame you for the death of her parents?

Surely not. She had been four when they died. You doubted a four-year-old had the emotional or mental wherewithal to blame you for the loss of her parents.

But it wasn’t Amy you were afraid to be reunited with. Not really. You were utterly terrified at the thought of seeing Rhett again. Would he be happy to see you? Would he be angry? Hurt? Confused? What would he say to you? How would you respond?

All these questions swirled through your mind as you sauntered back to your car. Maybe he wouldn’t even be home. But if you chose to stay at the Abbott’s, you would likely run into him at some point. Besides, you weren’t sure how long you were going to remain in town. You felt like you were taking advantage of Cecilia’s kindness. So, you determined that you would only go over for dinner. You would not stay the night.

With that thought in mind, you climbed into your car and headed back to your aunt’s house. 

A few hours later, you were back in your car all over again, thrumming with anxiety, wondering if you were making the right decision. It would be so easy to turn back around, but you forced yourself to continue on, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

When you turned into the Abbott farm, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense you slowed your car to a stop, staring at the house in the distance. It was the same as it had always been. A cozy house boasting of a well-kept garden, a bran off to the left with a nice coat of bright red paint. Chickens milled about the yard. Horses played in the field. Cows lowed in the distance. 

It still felt like home.

With a deep breath, you eased off the brake and urged your car down the long driveway. As you parked near the house, you caught sight of a young girl with honey-colored hair, swinging on the rope swing that was tied to the tree in the front. 

Your heart clenched in your chest. She’d grown so much. It was a reminder that life had continued in your absence. 

Upon seeing you, she hopped down, eyes alight with joy. “Gramma! Gramma!” She called, rushing into the house to alert Cecilia to your arrival.

You took a moment to steel yourself before you climbed out of the car, shoes crunching against dirt and gravel as you approached the porch. As you ascended the steps, you were once again greeted by the little girl. Amy.

“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Amy. Gramma says you can come on in!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, Amy. It’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you were this big!” You held your hand low, indicating her size.

“I don’t really remember you. But Gramma and Grampa do. They said you and Uncle Rhett used to date.”

You were slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah…yeah, we did. That was a long time ago though.”

Amy shrugged. “I wish he was still dating you. You’re super pretty!” 

“Oh…thank you!” Was all you could say in reply. She certainly was prone to saying whatever came to mind. However, she moved on from it quickly, motioning you inside.

“C’mon!” She said, waving you on, and you moved to follow her, stopping at the door to take your shoes off before you ambled into the kitchen. 

The smell of food cooking made your stomach growl, and you realized only then that you were very hungry. A home-cooked meal would do you some good.

At the sound of your footsteps, Cecilia turned, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “You made it! I’m so glad. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You wanted to make yourself useful, rather than standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. 

“You can help me set the table!” Amy chirped, already walking to the table with her arms full of plates. 

“Silverware’s in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Cecilia reminded you. But you remembered from the countless dinners you had been a part of here.

With a nod, you moved to gather enough cutlery for everyone, and as Amy set each plate down, you folded a napkin and placed the silverware upon it. You fell into a rhythm, stopping only to grab drinking glasses from the cupboard.

You noticed that the number of place settings was five. That had to mean Rhett was also joining the family for dinner, unless it was a place for someone else. You wanted to ask Cecilia if he was coming, but didn’t want to make things awkward, so you left it alone.

You were kept busy as she handed you different serving dishes full of various foods to put on the table. As you placed a basket of dinner rolls amongst the rest of the food, the sound of the back door opening caught your attention.

Your heart leapt in your chest, and you lifted your head, expecting to see Rhett. Instead, you were met with Royal’s look of surprise. Cecilia looked over at him and motioned to the sink. “Wash up, supper’s ready. We’ve got a guest.”

He nodded as he hung his hat on the peg on the wall, pausing to take off his muddy boots. “I’ll be damned,” he remarked, directing it at you. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Saw her at the market today, so I invited her over. Didn’t tell ya because you an’ Rhett have been in that darn pasture with no signal all day.”

Royal hummed gruffly as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Storm wiped that fence clean out. We had to replace every last post,” he sighed, “took us all day.”

“S’why we need to hire some hands, Roy,” Cecilia lowered her voice, but you still heard her.

Clearly this was something they talked about frequently, because he huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t continue the potential argument. Instead, he turned, drying his hands on a towel. His eyes regarded you kindly. “Been a long time,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”

You managed a smile. “Good to see you too.”

“Rhett on his way?” Cecilia questioned as she placed the final platter on the table.

Again, your heart fluttered anxiously at the mention of his name.

Royal nodded, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and taking a seat. “Yeah, he’s right behind me, he was just puttin’ up the horses.”

“Alrighty, we’ll wait to say grace until he comes in then.”

There it was again, that deep feeling of utter nostalgia. Cecilia had always been a religious woman, and not a meal went by where she didn’t pray over the food. That aspect hadn’t changed at all.

“You can sit here!” Amy announced, patting an open chair next to Royal. “Me and Uncle Rhett will sit across from you.”

You’d have to look into his face. You wouldn’t be able to hide your expressions from him. Rhett had always been so perceptive, more so than anyone gave him credit for. He was always considered to be aloof by those who didn’t bother to get to know him, but you knew that was far from the truth. 

There had been a time when you knew him like the back of your hand. You wondered just how much he’d changed, if at all. 

Just as you took your seat at the table, the squeak of the screen door opening filled the room, and the scrape of boots against linoleum followed. Seconds later, there he was. Blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. Same brown hat he’d had since he was a teenager, which he pulled from his head to place on the hat peg. 

“Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett! We have a guest!” Amy exclaimed. 

He hadn’t turned yet. Didn’t know you were there. “Who’s that, li’l pea?”

“Your old girlfriend!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

He saw you then, and his eyes went wide. You swore the clock hanging over the sink stopped, causing time to stand still. Everyone else in the room faded into the background as Rhett became your sole focus.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, as if someone had taken their hands and squeezed the air right out of your lungs. In the background, you heard Cecilia talking, likely explaining that she’d seen you at the store and invited you over.

You doubted Rhett heard her, either. He was too busy staring at you.

Seeing him again brought so many overwhelming emotions to the surface. Pain. Sadness. Longing. And suddenly, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. You needed to bolt. 

Abruptly, you stood up, silently cursing yourself for your dramatics. “I–I’m so sorry, this was a mistake,” you squeaked, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor as you scrambled away from the table. 

And then you were fleeing. Just like you had six years ago. 

But this time, Rhett wasn’t going to let you go that easy. Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, his feet moved beneath him, carrying him after you. “Go ‘head an’ eat! I’m gonna talk to her!” He called over his shoulder to his family.

He threw open the front door, lurching out onto the porch. You were already at your car, wrenching the door open. “Wait!” He called out, dashing down the steps.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see. 

“Would ya just– just stop!” He reached out, hand against your door, impeding you from opening it. 

“Let go of my door, please.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to speak.

“Not until you look at me.”

You were afraid you’d fall apart if you did. “Rhett, please.”

A beat passed. Then another. You could feel his body heat, he was standing so close. You could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to him after a hard day’s work. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. Like freshly baled hay. 

Against your better judgment, you found yourself turning, drawn to him like a magnet. Your eyes finally met his, and you gasped softly. They were even bluer than you remembered. So clear and bright. 

But there was so much emotion there, too. It swam within his irises, and you saw the glint of gathering tears. He drank in the sight of you, and his chest heaved as he took in a breath, then another. “I…I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, as if speaking louder would cause his voice to fail him.

“Me too,” you agreed, as quiet as he was. There was so much you wanted to say. But most importantly, there were a few words he needed to hear. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.” You succumbed to your tears, as they slid down your cheeks in hot trails. 

His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled. 

He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”

The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”

Being reassured that it wasn’t his fault made him relax slightly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. But there was still a shadow of sadness on his face. “Was it easier?”

At that, you shook your head, scoffing slightly. “No. Honestly, I think leaving you made it worse. I’m so sorry I did that to you. I’ve never really been able to forgive myself for it.”

“Guess we both have a lotta things we couldn’t forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. Then he bowed his head for a moment, gathering himself before looking at you again. “For what it’s worth, I ain’t holding it against you. Losin’ the three of them was the hardest fuckin’ thing we ever had to go through. I don’t blame you for leavin’ to see if it would make you feel better. You did what you thought you had t’ do.”

A fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “Oh, Rhett.” Without a second thought, you found yourself moving forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was caught by surprise for only a moment, and then his own arms, strong and steady, came up to encircle your waist. 

You stood there in the middle of the driveway, holding each other for what felt like hours. When you parted, you were both wiping at tear-streaked cheeks. 

“S’good to see you again, by the way,” Rhett said. “I mean it.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you replied honestly. Now that your initial upset was out of the way, you realized it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 

“What, uh, what are you doin’ back in town?”

“Cleaning out my great-aunt’s place,” came your answer, and he nodded in realization. “I ran into your mom at the store today, she invited me over. I didn’t really want to come, I was scared to face you again.”

He hummed in understanding. “She knew what she was doin’. She wanted us to talk. She’s a meddler like that.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. 

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “I should’ve known it was a ruse. She’s convincing, that’s for sure. She’s also watching us right now.”

When Rhett turned, he found his whole family watching through the front window. Upon seeing him turn, they all rushed away from the window, dropping the curtain. 

He faced you again, and there was a smile on his face. “I’m glad she convinced ya, then. Can’t tell you how good it feels to clear the air after all this time. Losin’ you was rough on me, but I’m happy you’re back, even if it’s only for a small visit.” 

“I’m happy too. And I’m happy you stopped me from leaving this time.”

His eyes twinkled like stars, and he nodded toward the house. “Wanna head back in for supper?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Together, you walked back into the house. While there was so much you had missed in your time apart, and so much you still needed to reconcile with each other, you were relieved that the air was clear for the time being. You hadn’t expected Rhett to welcome you back with open arms, but you were thankful he had. 

It broke your heart that he had spent so much time believing he was to blame. It was your own inability to face your grief that was the culprit, not this sweet, blue-eyed cowboy. Never him. But maybe there was a new beginning between you. A chance to let the past remain where it belonged. 

When you stepped into the kitchen and took your seat at the table, the trio was pretending they hadn’t just been spying on you and Rhett. However, it was Amy who gave it away, giggling behind her hand. 

“You guys’re menaces,” Rhett grumbled as he placed a serving of potatoes on his plate. 

Cecilia tried to hide her smile, though ultimately failing. She looked at you, and her gaze was kind. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little…overzealous about makin’ sure you and Rhett saw each other again. But it worked, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t hold it against her. Without her meddling, you never would have spoken to Rhett. You likely would have done what you came to do and left town without a single glance in his direction. 

Cecilia had known that it was a chance for you to reconcile with Rhett. Holding on to something that happened years ago wasn’t healthy. She saw the opportunity to ease her son’s pain, and yours, and she took it. Thankfully, it had worked out in her favor. 

You couldn’t believe it had been that easy to reconcile with him. Even after you’d stormed off, upset, he’d still been willing to talk to you. It spoke volumes of his growth. Past Rhett wasn’t very good at communicating. But present Rhett seemed to have gotten much better at it. 

Dinner passed without a hitch, although there was still some slight tension. No one spoke of Perry, Rebecca, or Lydia. You got the sense that Royal and Cecilia were avoiding the subject. Likely because Amy was present. You had no idea how much she knew about that day, but you had no desire to bring it up. 

Conversation instead shifted to what you were doing with your life. 

“Where you workin’ now?” Royal asked, leaning back so that Cecilia could take his plate and clear the table in preparation for dessert. She’d denied your offer of help, insisting you sit and talk, because you were a guest. 

“I work for the National Weather Service, up in Silver Spring, Maryland.”

“No kiddin’?” He replied, eyes glimmering with intrigue. “What d’ya do there?”

You took a sip of your water before you answered. “I’m an analyst. I analyze weather data from all over the country. I work with a team and we try to predict, as best we can, what the weather is going to look like.”

“Sounds intense,” Rhett spoke up. You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. 

Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.” 

He corrected his chair right away. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. “It is kinda intense. But I love it. Keeps me on my toes,” came your reply. 

“Can’t take the storm chaser outta the girl, huh?” He hummed, catching your eye with a knowing look. 

He was right. Although you’d stopped chasing storms, you still did just that, except it was from a much safer distance this time, through a set of screens. There was no chance of those around you dying grisly deaths brought on by a wicked twister. 

“Guess not,” you finally agreed. 

Before the conversation could continue, Amy happily interrupted, flouncing up to the table to set down a handful of dessert plates. “Gramma made your favorite, Uncle Rhett,” she announced, beaming at him. 

He grinned, pulling her into his side as she squealed. “Did she?” He asked, laughter in his tone as he jabbed his fingers into her sides, while she laughed uncontrollably and tried to wriggle away from him. 

You watched the exchange, and your heart went warm in your chest. But you were also hit with a wave of sadness. This sweet little girl was growing up without a mother and father. These three people in this room were all she had in the world. 

“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, bringing you back to reality. You hadn’t realized that tears were making their way down your cheeks. 

“I…I’m fine,” you answered. 

“Alright, here’s some blackberry pie!” Cecilia’s voice rang across the kitchen, interrupting your moment of melancholy. But you were grateful for the distraction.  

The pie was cut, and everyone was given a slice, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a cup of coffee. Conversation around the table shifted to Amy’s schooling, and she eagerly listed the number of weeks that were left of school. 

But you could feel Rhett’s eyes on you from across the table the entire time. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if he could see right into your soul. That was how it had always been. Looking at him felt like staring into the sun, at times. So bright and beautiful, but impossible to stare at. 

That hadn’t changed, even years later. Same intense look. 

When dessert was finished, Amy got up to help Cecilia clear the table. Royal headed upstairs to presumably get ready for bed. And Rhett stepped outside onto the front porch. 

“Can I at least help you clean up for the night, Cece?” You asked, hoping to do something, anything to feel useful. 

“Don’t you lift a finger. Amy and I have got it.” 

“You sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure,” the woman insisted. Then, “Have you given any thought as to if you might stay here?”

You hesitated. “Oh, I, uh…I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a bother.”

She huffed, shaking her head. “I already told ya at the store, it’s no bother! ‘Sides, it’s gonna be dark soon, and it gets so pitch black out here, drivin’ into town isn’t safe. And if you stay, you’d be wakin’ up to a home-cooked breakfast in the mornin’.”

With a sigh, you finally relented. Mostly because you were too tired to argue with her. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I’ll stay.” It was a good thing you hadn’t taken your luggage out of the car yet. 

Cecilia beamed. “Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll just go get my stuff from the car,” you remarked, already turning to put your shoes back on. 

“Have Rhett help you. I think he just stepped out onto the porch,” she suggested. 

With a nod, you made your way out the door, hinges squeaking as you stepped onto the porch, shoes thudding lightly against weather-worn wood. 

Sure enough, Rhett was there, seated on the bench near the door. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back, eyes fixed on the sky. 

When you came out, his gaze shifted to you, and he smiled softly. “Hey,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. 

“Hey.” An awkward silence soon followed. There was so much hanging in the air between you both. Words left unsaid. “Your momma asked me to stay the night.”

He hummed, nodding as he looked back out across the sprawling land that was the Abbott farm. “Figured she would. Her and that bleedin’ heart of hers.”

“She suckered me into it with the promise of a home cooked breakfast.”

He scoffed playfully. “You get a home cooked breakfast and I get a piece of fuckin’ toast.”

“I’ll share with you.”

His smile turned into a grin. Then he fell serious. “Speakin’ of sharing, you can sleep in my room.”

At that, you shook your head. “Oh no, that’s asking too much. Isn’t there a pull-out bed in the living room couch? I can sleep there instead. It’s where I used to sleep when I’d stay over, remember?”

“Boy, do I,” he hummed. When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though. 

He continued, “But ya already served your time on that old couch. I’ll sleep there. My bed’s all yours.”

“Rhett—”

“Hey now, don’t argue with me. We both know I always win ‘em anyway.” 

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as you shook your head. He was right, after all. He’d always win you over with kisses dispersed all over your face until you relented with laughter. 

“Fine. I’ll take your room then,” you replied. 

He hummed in satisfaction, and silence fell between you again. It felt so strange, being back in his presence. You felt as if you didn’t belong here, on this porch with him in the late spring night. In your anxious imaginations, you had always assumed he’d never reconcile with you, so you never tried to reach out and make things right. 

But all it had taken was one tearful conversation, and a sense of civility had been restored between you. 

“Why did you forgive me so easily?” Came your question, spoken into the quiet air that hummed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. 

Rhett eyes flickered to you. “Because I spent too long wallowin’ in hurt, and I couldn’t handle carryin’ all of it anymore. I don’t wanna be stuck in the past. I want to move forward. Forgivin’ you is the best way to do that.” Then he added, “plus, I never could stay mad at you. Guess that still holds true to this day.”

Tears welled in your eyes again as you digested his words. You hated that you’d caused him so much pain. If only you’d been able to work through your grief instead of running from it. But that was in the past. There was nothing you could do to change it. However, you could use it to be a better person in the future. 

“I’m sorry I—”

But he held up his hand. “Don’t need to ‘pologize again,” he assured you, gentleness in his tone. 

You closed your mouth and nodded, and then you decided to take a seat next to him. Several minutes of silence passed again. Again, you were the one to break it. 

“I’m glad I decided to come tonight. I almost didn’t take your ma up on it.”

“I’m glad y’ did too.” He turned his body toward you so he could look into your face. “Six years is a long time.”

“It really is. I can’t believe it’s been that long. And Amy…she’s gotten so big.”

“She has. That little girl’s the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye, I’ll tell you what.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Looks like she’s the apple of yours, too.”

Rhett made a noise of agreement. “I see ‘em in her. Bec and Perry, that is. She’s a bit of a firecracker. Takes after her dad in that way. But she’s smart as a whip, we’re talkin’ wicked smart, like her momma. And some of the things she says, the tone she says them in…god, it sounds just like Bec.”

“It must be so cool to see them live on in her like that,” you whispered. 

“It is. But it’s hard, too. Thinkin’ about the way things would be if they were still here.”

“Does she remember them?”

He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the night sky above you, shimmering with stars. “Bits an’ pieces. She doesn’t remember whole details. Plus she was so small…I don’t rightly know what she pictures in her head when she talks about it.”

Your heart broke for the girl. “Poor thing.”

Rhett nodded his head. “I know. But she’s doin’ alright. Brings a lotta joy into our lives.” Even in the dim light, you could see the way his eyes sparkled with love. Family had always been so important to him. Even more so now that he’d lost part of it. 

You had to swallow the urge to cry. “That’s good.”

A beat passed before Rhett changed the subject, eager to move on to lighter conversation. “So…weather analyst, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

That drew a shy smile out of you. “It’s no big thing. I have a whole team of people who work with me.”

“It’s a pretty damn big deal to me. You an’ that smart brain of yours. It’s no wonder you want on to work for the fuckin’ National Weather Service.”

At his compliment, you ducked your head, a little embarrassed. “I really like the job. It’s kinda stressful, though. Weather never takes a break like us human beings do.”

“You’re tellin’ me. You shoulda seen the storms that rolled through here last week. One right after another.”

That prompted you to ask the question you’d been dying to know the answer to all night. “Your mom said you’re still chasing.”

Rhett nodded his head as he shifted against the bench, wood creaking beneath his weight. “Yeah. It ain’t just me, either. I’ve got a whole team workin’ with me.”

Your gaze fell to your lap, where your hands were loosely clasped. “Was it…was it hard getting back to it, after they died?” You softly questioned. That was why you’d never gone back to storm chasing. You couldn’t bear the thought of doing so after all you'd lost. 

“Sure was. I didn’t start back up until a year later. That first time I got back out there…man, I almost couldn’t do it. I just kept thinkin’ of them. But then it sorta turned into a way to honor them an’ keep their memory alive. So I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”

“That’s good you were able to get back into it.”

“How ‘bout you? Been out there runnin’ after any storms lately?”

“No,” you answered quickly. The thought made your stomach turn. 

“Y’ should join us next time it storms,” came his suggestion. 

“I’d rather not.” You were hoping he would drop it. 

“C’mon, it’ll be like old times.”

“I don’t want it to be like old times. We lost three of our best friends during old times. I can’t…I can’t face another tornado. I’m scared to death of them now. I’ll never storm chase ever again.” You were on the verge of tears.

He got the message then. “Alright, fair enough. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”

You sighed, shoulders dropping. “You didn’t upset me. It’s just more of a sore subject than I realized,” you said. Then, “and now that I’m back here, I’m so scared more twisters will come through.”

Rhett understood where you were coming from. But he also believed in facing one’s fears. For the most part, at least. There were still some things that filled him with fear that he couldn’t bear to face. 

“More will definitely come. They ain’t been that bad this season so far. Last week was rough though. Had a couple EF3s that hit some neighborin’ towns. We’ve been helpin’ out a lot. The team I’m workin’ with…they’re big into charity. We’ve been able to donate to people who lost their homes. We’re hopin’ to raise enough money to get building supplies that can help rebuild all the damaged homes.”

You raised a brow, surprised. Not over the fact that Rhett wanted to help people in surrounding communities, but over the fact that his team had done so much. That was more than you’d ever been able to do when you were chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. 

“That’s really amazing,” you remarked. 

“Yeah. Hate seein’ the damage twisters can do, but I’m glad we can at least do somethin’ to help, even if it’s small.”

You had so many more questions about his storm chasing. But you also wanted to change the subject. Your heart was heavy from the old memories going through your mind. So, you asked about another thing that was part of the past.

“Did you ever go back to bull riding?”

Rhett let out a sharp breath, suddenly finding a small tear in his jeans very interesting, fingers sliding over the work fabric. “Hell no.”

“I always wondered about that. If you’d gone back to it after I left.”

“Nah. Never could stomach the thought of gettin’ back on one of them beasts.”

“Yet you’ll chase twisters with no problem.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Both could kill you.”

Rhett didn’t have an answer for that. But he did know he never wanted to experience what he’d been through in that arena all those years ago. 

It happened before you’d started storm chasing together. He was gunning for a career in pro bull riding, and he was headed toward the top. He had it all. Until it came crashing down one night when he suffered a life-threatening injury when he didn’t get out of the way of an angry bull fast enough. 

You’d never forget that night. And neither would he. You’d been volunteering at the rodeo. You were certified in first aid, and you were able to work alongside the on-site medics tending to riders with injuries, so you had access to the riders-only area. 

But what Rhett suffered was no minor injury. The bull’s horn caught him right beneath the hem of his protective vest, impaling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. The way he’d been carried out on a stretcher. 

You remembered tearing his vest off of him and seeing blood. So much blood. You remembered pressing your hands to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding as he grew pale beneath you. You remembered begging him to hold on, assuring him that help was on the way. 

You almost lost him that night. 

The injury scared the hell out of him. It required surgery to repair the internal damage, and it took him out of riding for months. And by the time the doctor cleared him to ride again, he knew he couldn’t. Not after he’d stared death in the face. 

He had a permanent scar on his abdomen, a reminder of what he had endured. 

Rhett never wanted to experience that again. So he hung up his riding vest for good. But he was still a thrill seeker. And when you expressed an interest in storm chasing, he’d eagerly agreed, because it gave him a chance to feel alive again, just like he always felt when he was sitting on the back of a raging bull. 

Now you had traded places. He was too afraid to mount another bull. You were too afraid to go after another twister. It seemed that you had more in common than you realized.

“Guess we’re both scared of something,” you remarked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the evening chill crept up on you like the chilled fingers of a ghost touching your skin. 

“Guess so,” Rhett agreed.

Your conversation fell stagnant, and you found yourself growing sleepy. You had only just arrived back in Oklahoma that morning, and the night before, you hadn’t slept well. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with you. 

“I should probably turn in before I fall asleep out here,” you mumbled, followed by a yawn. 

Rhett made a sound deep in his throat before he rolled his neck, joints cracking. “I’ll help ya with your stuff,” he offered as he stood. 

You followed suit, motioning to your car. The two of you headed down the porch steps, where you popped the trunk, revealing your luggage. You watched as Rhett heaved the bags out of the car, his forearms and biceps bulging beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. 

You were reminded that he was still just as strong as ever. Lifting your suitcases hardly took that much strength, you knew, but Rhett was a farm boy. He’d been strong his entire life, thanks to lifting bales of hay and performing other tasks of manual labor. When he was riding bulls, his core and leg strength had been excellent. Those strong thighs of his allowed him to hold tightly to those raging animals. 

He’d taken on some size since you’d seen him six years ago. His shoulders were more broad. His arms were bigger. His thighs were meatier. Or maybe his jeans were simply too tight, hugging the curve of his quad muscles.

In the kitchen, you hadn’t fully admired him. But here, beneath the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the porch light, you saw him. His stubbled jaw, his twinkling eyes, his small pink mouth the button nose you’d always loved. 

You remembered teasing him and telling him he had an elfin nose, that he had inherited it from a mystical creature. You had adored the way his ears would turn red whenever you said it.

Oh, how things had changed. There had been a time when you couldn’t picture your life without him. And now, you’d been without him for so long that you’d forgotten what it felt like to love and be loved by him.

“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, and you shook yourself out of your reverie.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just sorta zoned out.”

The knowing look in his eye told you he’d caught on to the fact that you were staring at him.

“C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.” With that, he slammed your trunk shut and gathered your bags again before he headed toward the house.

You trailed after him, closing and locking the front door behind you, assuming everyone was in for the night. Then you ascended the stairs, allowing Rhett to lead you down the hall, all the way to the end, where his room was.

He nudged the partially open door with his foot, and stepped into the dark confines, depositing your luggage onto the bed before he bent to turn on the bedside lamp. You were met with the sight of a surprisingly neat bedroom.

The times you’d been here in the past, his room had never been terribly messy, but random clutter would accumulate in different corners. He was never really the type to make his bed either, because he always said, “I’m gon’ sleep in it again, so why bother?”

But now, the bed was neatly made, and hardly any clutter hid in the corners. 

“I ain’t been stayin’ here much, so it stays pretty neat,” he explained, as if reading your mind. 

“Too busy storm chasing?” You asked.

“Yeah. Stay in a lotta motels when I’m on the road.”

You sauntered into the room, taking in the coziness of it all. Hardly anything had changed. His plaid bedspread was the same. His curtains still matched the bedding. Art pieces of cowboys riding bulls decorated the walls. A picture of Lane Frost hung just above his desk.

A sense of nostalgia washed over you. Being in this room felt like coming home.

“Welp…guess I’ll, uh, let you get to bed,” Rhett murmured. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something. “I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”

That brought a smile to your face. “I am, too.”

He rapped his knuckles against the door frame. “Anyway, ‘night.”

“Goodnight.”

He reached out to pull the door shut, leaving you in silence, alone for the first time since you had arrived at the house. You let out a breath, and lowered down to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to process everything.  

Your arms splayed out on either side of you, palms skimming over the softness of the bed. You closed your eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over you. It was here, in this very bed, that you had lost your virginity to each other. You were young and in love and driven by your passion for one another.

Many times after that, you had made love in this room. And as you closed your eyes, it was as if you were reliving those memories. The feeling of his mouth on yours, and his hands on your heated skin. The way he would moan your name into your mouth when you shifted your hips against his own, searching for delicious friction, so eager to have him inside you.

As your eyes fluttered open, you were struck with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since you’d been with anyone in such an intimate way? Your job hardly left you time for romantic relationships. You hadn’t really put yourself out there, because you knew your busy career would likely deter anyone who wanted any sort of future with you.

As you readied yourself for bed, you thought about how alone you had felt these last few years. Alone in your grief. In your pain. At least Rhett had his parents to lean on as they endured the loss. You had no one who truly understood. 

Silver Spring was a perfectly nice community to live in, and you had made some good friends during your time there. But nothing compared to the community you once had here in Wabang. No one compared to Lydia, your dearest friend. Your bond had been a sisterly one. You were kindred spirits. You’d never been able to find that again in any of the friends you made in your current home city.

But now that you were back in Oklahoma, the sense of familiarity was nearly overwhelming. You were home. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.

That night, you got the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Rhett’s bed was comfortable, and the house was quiet. All that could be heard outside was the distant howl of a coyote, and the sounds of nightlife creeping about.

When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a rooster crowing. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being rested. Your body didn’t ache. Your head wasn’t swimming with tiredness. You were at peace, which was something you hadn’t felt in ages.

You could hear the sound of the Abbotts milling about the house. Cecilia was likely in the kitchen starting breakfast. Royal was probably already outside, getting a head start on the day’s chores. Rhett, too, who’d always been responsible for checking on the animals and making sure they were fed.

Not wanting to walk out in your tank top and sleep shorts, you were quick to throw on some clean clothes before you headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash your face and make yourself look somewhat presentable.

When you finally made your way downstairs, you were hit with the smell of food cooking. The coffee pot hissed and sputtered in the corner, nearly finished with its brew cycle. Amy sat at the table, doodling in a notebook. When she saw you, her face lit up.

“Mornin’! I was wondering when you’d come down! You slept for a super long time.”

“Amy,” Cecilia cautioned.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, before turning to Amy, “I needed the rest.”

“Well you came down just in time! Gramma’s making pancakes.”

“Sounds good!” Came your response, as you moved to grab a glass from the cupboard to fill with water. Your mouth felt parched.

“How’d you sleep, hon?” Cecilia asked as she stirred a bowl of pancake batter.

“Like a baby,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, bubbling with melted butter. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to make breakfast for me every day. I know you only make big breakfasts on Saturdays and Sundays, I don’t expect pancakes and eggs and bacon every day of the week.”

It was Thursday, so it wasn’t a typical day for her to make breakfast for the family. The weekday mornings were always called “fend for yourself” mornings, where the family was responsible for preparing their own respective breakfasts.

“Nonsense! I’m happy to do it, you need fuel if you’re gonna be cleanin’ that house all day,” she insisted.

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it means a lot.”

She ushered you to the table, assuring you breakfast would be ready momentarily. You chatted with Amy once you settled into your seat, and just as breakfast was being put on the table, the screen door squealed open, and in stepped Royal, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on the peg on the wall.

He greeted you, nodding in your direction. “Mornin’,” he said as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Cecilia placed a cup of black coffee beside his plate, and he thanked her with a wordless hum. Typical morning small talk followed as everyone began filling their plates. But the quiet chatter was soon interrupted by the screen door opening again.

Rhett hurried into the kitchen, boots scraping against the floor as he made a beeline for the table. You could see a wildness in his eyes, and it made your heart rate quicken. Your gaze flickered to the kitchen window, where you could see distant gray clouds. 

“Gotta take breakfast to go, storm’s brewin’ over in Cimarron County,” he announced as he reached over Amy’s head to grab a pancake. He shoved a few pieces of bacon inside and folded it up like a taco. “Team’s on the way here to meet me.”

“Please be careful!” Cecilia called after him as he turned on his heel to head back to the door. 

He grabbed a backpack that was sitting on the bench in the entryway, presumably packed with necessities. “Always am, Ma,” he replied. Then he looked at you, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “You wanna come?” Hope was in his tone.

His offer shocked you. You certainly didn’t expect it, not after what you had told him last night. “No, I…I’ll stay here,” you answered.

“Alright, see ya soon!” And with that, he was off, door slamming shut behind him.

You weren’t sure what drove you to do so, but you found yourself surging up from your seat, feet carrying you quickly to the door. You flung it open and rushed out onto the porch. “Rhett!” You called. 

Midway to his truck, he stopped, whirling around. “Yeah?”

“Be safe!” He’d just come back into your life. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

His face softened, and he smiled. “I will be. I promise.” Then he turned and continued on to his truck. Still that old GMC Sierra with the light bar on top. It had been blown off the road during the twister you’d narrowly escaped, but somehow, the truck was perfectly fine, and just needed a few repairs to render it driveable again.

Seeing that it had survived after all this time gave you hope that Rhett would make it back safely home again. 

He was gone for three days. You learned of his well-being through Cecilia. He would always text her after a storm passed to assure her he was okay. He was so good about giving her peace of mind. 

In his absence, you busied yourself with sorting through the overwhelming clutter in your great-aunt’s house. It provided a distraction from your worry. 

Living in Silver Spring, you’d had no cause to worry about Rhett. He crossed your mind often, yes, but you had no idea he was still storm chasing, and therefore remained blissfully ignorant. 

Now that you were back home, all those old memories had resurfaced, and you were forced to face the fact that you still cared deeply for Rhett. The thought of him dying out there made your stomach turn. 

At least when you’d been chasing with him, you were together, and he would die by your side if something did happen. Being apart from him now, you had no idea if he was okay or not, aside from updates from his mother. 

You were forced to come to terms with your feelings. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Yes, you cared about what happened to him, just as anyone else in his life did. But there was something more. 

You realized that perhaps you were still in love with him. 

However, you buried that realization deep. You couldn’t rekindle your romance with him. You had moved on, made a life for yourself, had a career you loved. You needed to leave your relationship with him in the past, and move forward with only a friendship between the two of you. 

Easy as pie, right? 

You hoped so. 

Three days later, just as you were arriving back on the Abbott farm after a long day of cleaning and organizing, Rhett returned. 

Relief washed over you from head to toe when you saw that old Sierra coming down the driveway. But he wasn’t alone. You could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the truck, a Ford F150 followed closely behind, and beyond that, an old RV. 

So this was the team he’d been talking about. 

Your gut fluttered at the sudden anxiety of meeting new people. You knew you looked worse for wear in your cleaning clothes. You’d been sweating all day, and you were planning on heading straight for the shower when you got into the house. 

But it would be rude to just turn and go inside, so you stayed put, waiting until all the vehicles came to a stop. 

Rhett jumped out first, slamming the truck door shut behind him. He was wearing his hat, and he was grinning. “Made it back in one piece,” he assured you. 

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “I can see that,” came your answer. 

Your eyes flickered beyond him as the woman in the passenger seat climbed out. She was beautiful, in the most natural of ways. No makeup adorned her face. Her eyes were large, the deepest shade of brown you’d ever seen. Her hair, a deep chestnut color, was curly and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail. 

Her deep brown skin glimmered with perspiration. You could hazard a guess that the air conditioning in Rhett’s truck was broken. It always had been finicky. 

“Hi,” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake yours, “I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”

“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t realize you all were coming. I would’ve at least tried to look presentable.”

“Oh, you look beautiful, don’t even worry about that.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. 

“Zara here is the genius behind all our chases,” Rhett boasted. 

The woman looked at him and beamed, shaking her head. “Oh, hush. I’m no genius.”

An odd feeling blossomed to life in your chest as you watched their banter. The easy way they interacted. It wasn’t jealousy, was it? It couldn’t be. You had no right to be jealous. Not after you were the one that left him six years ago. 

Your moment of distaste was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. The rest of the team was getting out of their vehicles, clearly eager to stretch their legs after driving for so long. 

“You have to meet my wife!” Zara exclaimed. 

Oh. 

How silly of you to entertain the thought of jealousy when the woman wasn’t even interested in Rhett. 

Another woman came rushing over to the three of you, tall and lean, shoulder-length brown hair hanging loosely against the middle of her back, Tattoos decorated different parts of her body. Mostly her hands and wrists, and a few on her neck. When she smiled at you, it was warm like sunlight. 

“Hi!” She said, “I’m Jeslyn.”

You shook her hand and told her your name. Then you were quickly introduced to everyone else. 

There was Finn, handsome as could be, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. And then there was Danny, with eyes that were just a little less blue than Rhett’s, and graying curls that fell against his forehead. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties, but he was already going gray. It suited him.

They were all so personable, and their welcome was warm. It made you feel at ease instantly. You should have known the people who chose to associate with Rhett were good people.

You learned that they were all staying for dinner, per Cecilia’s insistence. It was a flurry of organized chaos as everyone offered to help set up the tables outside, rather than crowding in the small kitchen to eat. 

While they were busy with that, you slipped away to take a quick shower, eager to wash the sweat and grime off of your body. 

You turned the water as hot as you could stand, stepping under the spray and closing your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be so exhausted. Your shoulders and arms ached from scrubbing and heavy lifting. Your legs were sore too. 

The steamy water helped loosen your tight muscles considerably, and once you were finished, you breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Now you felt a little more prepared to face a dinner table full of people. 

But when you stepped out of the shower, you realized that you had forgotten something very important. A towel. Swearing under your breath, you stood in the middle of the bathroom for a moment, debating what you should do.

The linen closet was right across the hall. If you could sneak out there unseen, you’d be able to grab a towel and slip right back into the bathroom unnoticed. So, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and made sure the coast was clear before you dashed for the closet, yanking the door open and scanning for a towel.

To your horror, the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard, and you gasped, reaching for your towel, but you weren’t fast enough. A split second later, Rhett appeared at the top of the steps.

He froze, eyes widening, as you let out a squeak of surprise. Out of respect for you, he quickly turned away. “Shit, sorry!” He apologized.

Wordlessly, you clutched your towel and scurried away, slamming the bathroom door shut. On the steps, Rhett let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. He hadn’t seen you naked in years. Of course the first time would end up being an awkward moment like the one you’d both just been subjected to.

He hadn’t seen much, in his haste to give you privacy. But he’d seen enough to make his brain short-circuit for a moment. Mentally, he scolded himself, but he knew, now that he’d seen you in that way, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head. Especially because there had been a time when he knew your body, inside and out. He’d had you in the most intimate of ways. And that was something he would never forget.

“Get it the fuck t’gether,” he grumbled to himself as he turned back around, heading toward his room, where he wanted to grab a clean shirt before you came back. He simply couldn’t entertain thoughts about you naked. It would do him no good. 

He shook the encounter off, and quickly changed his shirt, tossing the old one in the hamper. He stopped to glance in the mirror that hung above his dresser, running his hand haphazardly through his hair, which was slightly tousled from all the activity of the day. 

Then, quick as he came, he strolled out of his room and back down the steps before you ever stepped out of the bathroom again. 

Meanwhile, you were hurriedly going about your post-shower routine, your mind spinning. You knew you were making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. Perhaps you should be grateful it was only Rhett, who’d seen you naked many times before, rather than his parents or Amy. 

But you still had an odd feeling swirling to life in your gut, a feeling that you didn’t want to face, because if you did, that would mean admitting you’d never gotten over Rhett. 

You pushed it down again. Choosing to deny, deny, deny. It would simply go away if you didn’t acknowledge it. 

With that, you headed out of the bathroom and back into Rhett’s bedroom, where you set your shower items down and made sure to hang your towel on the hook mounted on the back of the door. 

Then, with a deep breath for courage, you made your way downstairs. 

There was a flurry of activity happening. Cecilia was prepping Sunday dinner, while Zara and Jeslyn were gathering plates and silverware to set the table outside. Danny, Finn, and Rhett were carrying chairs outside.

Royal and Amy were in the living room, where she was very intently watching him whittle a figurine out of wood. Cecilia had likely shooed them out of the kitchen because there were enough people in the way as it was. 

For a moment, you stood there, in the middle of the house, taking in the sights and sounds, and it transported you back to the past. Sunday dinners with the Abbotts were always your favorite. Lydia and her family would join, and everyone would eat outside, weather permitting, just like they were going to do today. 

Many a good time was had around the large oak table that Rhett had built with his own hands when he was in high school, in woodworking class. One of the of the few classes he thrived in. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and it was still in good condition to this day. 

“Hey, y’alright?” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. You looked up to find him standing near, gaze soft. 

“I…yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just reminiscing.”

He nodded. “Mm. Sure this brings back a lotta memories for you.”

“It does,” you agreed. 

He lingered for a moment. Then, with the lowering of his voice, he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to walk in on ya like that.”

You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

“Good. That’s good.” He let his hands rest upon his hips, grimacing at the awkward silence that followed. 

“Guess I’d better see if your mom needs help,” you finally volunteered. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m gon’ make sure the guys set up the table right.” He took a few steps backward before he turned and sauntered out the door. 

You breathed out a sigh, mentally berating yourself for the awkwardness. You hoped it wouldn’t linger for the rest of the day. 

Thankfully, it did not. Once dinner was ready and everyone was gathered around the table, the atmosphere melted into one of warmth and laughter. You didn’t feel like an outsider. The group of friends treated you like one of your own, and it did wonders to put you at ease. 

“I thought you’d like t’ hear this,” Rhett’s voice caught your attention from across the table. “Zara here’s workin’ on a way to stop twisters dead in their tracks.”

That definitely piqued your interest. You looked at her, where she sat between Rhett and Jeslyn. “Really? How do you plan to stop them?” You asked her, leaning forward in your seat. 

Tornadoes were impossible to stop. To your knowledge, no one had succeeded in doing so before. They were so unpredictable, one couldn’t possibly figure out when and where one was going to touch down fast enough to stop it. 

She sprang into her explanation. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s never been done before. But Jes and I have spent years coming up with a solution. There’s a lot of heat and moisture at the center of a twister. My theory is if you can cool down the center to the freezing point, you can stop the twister.”

You stared at her, eyes widening. There was no way it could work. Was there? “How would you cool it down?”

“Essentially, we release liquid nitrogen into the core of the tornado and it brings the temp way down.”

“Have you tested it out yet?” You inquired. You were still skeptical, but fascinated at the same time. 

Beside her, Jeslyn piped up. “We started small scale tests when we were still students at OU. Me, Zara, and some classmates built this machine that uses heat and moisture to simulate a tornado. Our nitrogen tests worked on it, but seeing as that was only a small, contained event…”

“You’d need a lot more nitrogen for the real thing,” you finished for her. 

“Yep.”

Zara continued where Jeslyn left off. “During the run we did this week, we decided to actually test it out and see if we could stop a twister. But…it failed miserably.” She laughed ruefully, and the rest of the team joined her, reliving the memory. 

You were struck with an odd feeling. Fear of missing out, maybe. Which shocked you, because you’d refused to go on the chase in the first place, because you couldn’t face your fears. Now you felt left out? It didn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe you did miss storm chasing, after all. 

“It’s hard to gauge how much nitrogen we need, especially because every tornado is different. We’ve been working on collecting as many tanks of nitrogen as we possibly can, but we also didn’t want to use up our whole reserve. We used half of it on what turned out to be an F3. Didn’t do shit,” Zara continued to explain, motioning animatedly with her hands as she spoke. Her face was incredibly expressive. 

You decided you really liked her. You could understand why Rhett enjoyed chasing with her. 

“So, how does that work? Like, do you set tanks of nitrogen on the ground and then open them and hope for the best, or?” You had so many questions, and you simply couldn’t hide your fascination. 

“We use that,” Rhett said, pointing over at his truck parked in the driveway. Hitched to the back was an open trailer, with several tanks of liquid nitrogen situated inside, metal gleaming in the light of the setting sun. 

“But how do you open them? Does someone have to open each one before the twister hits?” You suddenly became very aware of everyone’s eyes on you, and you shrank slightly. “Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot of questions.”

“No, you’re good!” Zara insisted, “it’s just, we’re all used to people telling us we’re crazy instead of actually showing interest.”

“I told ya she’d think it was cool,” Rhett said to her with a smile. He caught your eye. He still knew you well, even though time had driven you apart. 

“Basically, opening the tanks is up to us,” Finn piped up from beside you, motioning to Danny, who sat on the other side of him. He took a swig of his water before he continued. “We made these special remote control valves. As long as we’re within range, we can open the valves with the touch of a button and release the nitrogen into the air.”

“Honestly, it sounds crazy. But also brilliant,” you said, completely in awe. “You gotta show me all the equipment after dinner. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this kinda thing before.”

Part of you still doubted what they were trying to do would ever work. It went against all odds. Even if they did succeed in stopping a tornado, the method wasn’t necessarily feasible for stopping others in the future. It would require countless tanks of nitrogen and a lot of manpower. 

But just to be able to say one had stopped a tornado was a feat in and of itself. You couldn’t hold it against Zara for trying. It was clear she was passionate about her work and believed there was a possibility that it could be successful. 

The conversation around the dinner table soon shifted to other things. You noticed that none of them asked you about your storm chasing past. You wondered how much Rhett had told them, and if he’d instructed them not to ask about the details, at risk of upsetting you. 

It was very considerate of him, if he had. 

After dinner, everyone helped clean up while Cecilia ushered Amy upstairs, against the girl’s protests. “You’ve got school in the mornin’, early bedtime isn’t optional!” Her grandmother insisted. 

But Amy had to make sure she said goodnight to everyone first before she made the reluctant trudge up the stairs. Oh, to have the innocence of a child again, unwilling to go to bed because all the adults were still awake.

The evening carried on, and once the dishes were washed and the table was cleared, you were led outside to see all the equipment Zara had told you about. And what a setup it was.

The trailer attached to the back of Rhett’s truck was full of nitrogen tanks, sealed with remote controlled valves. The trailer itself was also remote controlled, according to Rhett. 

“Come see,” he motioned for you to follow as he opened the driver’s side door. He pointed at the center console, where there was a board of switches, framed by labels indicating what each switch was for. “Danny and Finn helped get this up an’ running. If we need t’ let the trailer go, all I gotta do is press a button and it’ll release. S’how we get the tanks in the path of the twister.”

You stared in amazement at the device. “How? Like, how do you figure out when to release the trailer? And how does it not just get blown away?”

A grin tugged at his mouth. “Figured that one out too.”

He led you to the side of the trailer, where he pointed at a compartment positioned directly between the wheels. “Soon as I get the trailer in place, I flip a switch and stakes lower outta this compartment here and into the ground. Usually we’re cuttin’ it close, but I can get the truck positioned in the path of the twister. Then I get the trailer settled and get the hell outta Dodge.”

“Then I hit the remote control for the tanks and release the nitrogen into the air,” Finn piped up eagerly.

“Meanwhile, Zara and I are tracking the storm pattern and trying to figure out exactly when to release the trailer,” came Jeslyn’s explanation.

You stared at all the equipment in total wonder. These people had thought of everything. More than you or Rhett ever had when you were chasing. Your operation then had been very bare bones, and really, you were just following storms for the fun of it. 

But this? This was an entire science experiment, and it was fascinating. Despite your refusal to chase again, you were very curious about what all of this would look like in action. If Zara ever succeeded in stopping a twister, she would make history. 

That was something you almost wanted to be a part of. Almost. 

Later that night, you found yourself curled up in an Adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as everyone sat around the fire that Rhett had built in the old fire pit. The place held so many memories. Namely, the night Rhett had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was right here. 

He remembered that night, too. You could tell he was thinking about it when he caught your eye from across the fire. 

Around you, the group settled into comfortable conversation. The kind that happened when old friends got together. Anything and everything was discussed as the night gave way to inky darkness, the stars twinkling above, like glitter spilled across a black velvet canvas. 

Before she’d retired for the night, Cecilia had warmed some apple cider on the stove, and a mug of it was currently situated in your hands, its taste spicy and comforting. You enjoyed listening to Rhett’s friends tell stories of different storms they’d chased, reliving all the exciting times they’d had together.

You wondered if you would be running with them, too, had you stayed here instead of moving to Silver Springs and taking your weather analyst job. Would it just be you and Rhett, or would fate have still decided to bring these people into your life?

Their passion was admirable. Zara was a very driven individual, hellbent on making a difference. “If I could at least slow down a twister, even if it doesn’t fully stop it, think of all the lives we could save. That’s why I do all of this. I wanna protect people.”

That was just it, wasn’t it? Saving lives. You thought back to the fateful day you had lost Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. If you’d had a way of slowing down that twister, or even stopping it altogether, perhaps they would still be here.

But you couldn’t think that way, because it was already done. There was no way to go back in time and save them. 

The thought made your chest ache, and you had to swallow the wave of grief that rose in your throat. Rhett caught your eye over the flames, and shot you a reassuring look, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.

To your relief, the subject soon changed from storm chasing, and moved on to lighter things. 

“Hey, rodeo’s on Saturday. We were all thinking of going together. You should totally join us!” Jeslyn suggested, nodding in your direction. 

“Yeah, you should!” Finn agreed.

That piqued your interest. “Sure, I’ll still be in town, so why not?” You hadn’t been to a rodeo in so long. Not since Rhett’s last ride, which had ended in disaster.

Jeslyn grinned over her mug of cider. “Great! We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll take care of your ticket, so you don’t have to worry about it.” 

You raised a brow in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

Everyone protested at once, insisting that they wanted the rodeo ticket to be their treat. You were touched at their generosity, and accepted the offer gratefully. Might as well make the most of your time in Wabang.

Soon, it was time for the group to disperse and head in their own respective ways. Rhett threw some sand over the dying embers, while everyone else folded up their chairs to store back in the barn. As you walked the group back to their cars, Zara turned to you, her face kind.

“I know you’ve got your reasons for choosing not to chase, I want you to know the invitation for you to join us is open, in case you ever change your mind,” she told you. 

You weren’t entirely sure what came over you then. Maybe it was your desire to make a difference. Maybe you were just foolish. But for whatever reason, you were emboldened enough to say, “y’know what? I’ve got a proposition.” You stole a glance at Rhett to make sure he was listening. “I’ll go on a chase with you guys if Rhett agrees to ride at next weekend’s rodeo.”

You knew Rhett. He had a competitive nature. He was going to say yes. Everyone’s eyes landed on him, awaiting his answer.

“Shoo-ee, you gonna accept that challenge, Rhett?” Danny asked with a grin, fully invested.

Beside you, Rhett grimaced. “Ain’t no way they’ll let me in the ring,” he protested.

“Does Beau still oversee the bull riding contestants?” You inquired.

You and Rhett both knew that Beau would agree to letting him ride, because only Beau Wilson was crazy enough to allow such a thing. 

“Yeah,” Rhett answered your question. He was well aware of the direction this was going.

“Then I’ll go talk to him. He’ll get you a spot in the ring. If you can handle it, that is.” You gave him a pointed look. 

“I can handle it, darlin’.” Despite the determination in his tone, the nickname settled over you like a warm embrace. He hadn’t called you that in so long. “So if I do this, you swear you’ll go on a run with us?”

“Pinky swear.” You held your hand out, pinky up.

Rhett eyed your hand for a moment before he linked his pinky finger with yours. “Fine. You got yourself a deal.”

Finn and Danny whooped in excitement, while Zara and Jeslyn looked between you and Rhett, bewildered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to get him back on a bull? We always say he should try riding again, but he always says no,” Zara explained. 

You looked at Rhett, and he ducked his head, hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. You swore you saw his ears turn red. “Guess he just needed some friendly competition,” you replied.

Not long after, goodbyes were said, and the group parted ways, climbing into their vehicles and driving off, leaving you and Rhett standing there in the driveway. Immediately, you realized that your proposition was a bit preposterous. 

“Oh my god, if you don’t want to ride, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I said that, I just…”

But he waved his hand, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. It’ll do me some good to get back on a bull. Just like it’ll do you some good to face another twister. Might help us both process some shit,” he reasoned.

You let out a breath. “Maybe so.”

You both turned to walk toward the house, and he asked you a question as you went. “What made you change your mind?”

You paused, glancing down at your feet before you looked at him. “I dunno, all of Zara’s talk about saving lives…it got me thinking. It would be so cool if it could work. Imagine all the people she could save! She’s making a difference, and I want to be a part of that.” And then, “maybe if…if we had something like that six years ago, Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would still be alive.”

Rhett’s boots crunched against dirt as he absently kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “Don’t go spiralin’ into the ‘what ifs’. Universe saw fit to take ‘em, so it did. No machine could’ve stopped it. Not that kinda twister.”

You studied his expression. “Do you believe in Zara’s project?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I do, but there ain’t no way it would stop an EF5 tornado. We’d be fucked if it hit us.”

“It’s still worth a try, though, isn’t it? If it works, and if she can get it going on a larger scale…she could save entire towns from being destroyed! Think of the history she’s going to make!”

Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”

“What?”

“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”

You shrugged. “I guess so. But just know this isn’t a permanent thing, ‘kay? I’m only going out there with you guys to see how Zara’s invention works. After that, I’m going back to Silver Springs. To my job, where I don’t have to live off of McDonald’s and Whataburger every day and stay in shitty motels while I wait for a twister to just fall out of the sky.”

He bit back his ever-widening grin, shaking his head. “Sure thing. I’m just glad you decided to face your fear, s’all.”

Facing your fear. That was what this was, wasn’t it? You knew that  if you could do this, it would show you that you were capable of moving past your grief that still felt crippling at times. But you couldn’t help but wonder; when staring into the face of a tornado, would you be able to stand your ground, or would you let your fear send you running like a frightened child?

You would soon find out. But you didn’t realize just how soon. 

*read the next part here

-

taglist: tagging those who expressed interest or asked to be tagged (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @peachystenbrough @attapullman

@sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fragilefearnie @floydsmuse

@fairyheart @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @likearolloftape @bobfloydsbabe

@nobody7102 @mearslot @torturedpoetspsychward @floydsglasses @hearteyesforlewis

@shamelessghostwagonwobbler @cloudofbutterflies92 @keep-on-burnin @ravenmoore14 @queenbbarnes

@phoenixhalliwell @lyn-js @sunsetsimpsblog @ixxvixcviii @shinycupcakebaker

@frequentnosebleeder @atoncments @eolsens @casuallyclassless @desert-fern

@perfectprettypisces @parcetamoldaisy @zirrocom @rhettsgirll @just-in-case-iloveyou

@ada--44 @sydney-malcontent @9ullmans @bradshawsbitch

@callsignmedusa @antiquitea @ohmyeyesmyeyes @spidervman @oddlymighty-witch @dreams-in-anthracis

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

Emma's Epic Multi-Fandom Rec List: 'Top Gun: Bob' Edition

This is technically like, part 3.1 since I've been working on pulling a giant 'Top Gun: Maverick' rec list together, with all the daggers. I wanted to have this done a little while ago (because August was when I joined the TGM fandom, etc.) but frankly everything has been nuts and so I just figured it was better to share what I had ready rather than wait for the whole thing.

Please cut me some slack, my puppy just got spayed and she insists I hold her bone for her while she chews so I have like one free hand and two brain cells at the moment

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This past year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me. 

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these pics to show the creators some love! 

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd 

Full of Surprises ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — You have to admire a fandom that takes one look at the bespectacled, quiet-seeming character and goes “This guy fucks.” I also had that exact thought when I first saw Bob Floyd (along with several other, increasingly filthy thoughts), so when I read this story for the first time I went “oh, yeah, definitely. This guy fucks and this is how he fucks.” Just like our beloved WSO, it starts out so charming and sweet and then gets so incredibly steamy and sexy. 10/10. And when you’re done, there’s an equally hot Part 2. 

Behave ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — Bob Floyd bicep choking. Let me repeat that, a little louder: BOB! FLOYD! BICEP! CHOKING! It’s even hotter than you think it is. 

Whodunit? by @attapullman — Fun fact: my absolute favorite genre of fiction (books, movies, games, you name it) is a whodunit mystery. So, naturally, I have been obsessed with this series ever since Mo started teasing it way back when, and I love everything about it. Bob and Fanboy are the perfect goofy amateur sleuths, the teasing hints of cameos from all of the other Daggers keeps you on your toes and there’s a dose and campy ‘80s nostalgia running through the whole thing that I adore. It’s just pure, giddy fun. 

The Neighbor!Bob Universe ❤️‍🔥 by @attapullman — I am on record as adoring every single version of Bob that Mo cooks up, but neighbor!Bob holds a special place in my heart. He’s so handy and confident and sexy and he needs help dodging the firtations of all of the older women in the neighborhood who are equally obsessed with him! My bff and I once joked that the perfect man could build you a table and then do both you and your taxes on it, and well, that’s neighbor!Bob to a tee. 

do you wanna make somethin' of it ❤️‍🔥by @theharddeck — Hi, hello, are you looking for a Bob fic so hot it will MELT YOUR ENTIRE BRAIN? This is that fic. Bob has a secret side hustle as your favorite audio erotica performer (username: BullRiderRhett) and he is just as brain-scramblingly hot in person as he is in your headphones. I finished this fic and said out loud, to nobody, “omg I need him.” And because the universe is kind, there is an equally scorching sequel. 

you don’t have to be a star by @sunlightmurdock — Sweet, perfect Bob deserves a sweet, perfect fic where he gets to hear all about how lovely and wonderful he is, just the way he is. Fluffy and warm and the kind of story that gives you the urge to kiss him all over his perfect little face. 

Something in the Orange ❤️‍🔥by @sorchathered — I’m a sucker for a “right person, wrong time” situation and this one is a gut-punch of angst followed by a swoon-worthy reconciliation. I imagine it would be impossible to ever truly move on from Robert Floyd. 

Delicate ❤️‍🔥 and I Want Your Midnights by @laracrofted — *Tyler Owens voice* Are y’all ready to pine? Bob Floyd is an absolute dream boy and he’s at his most hesitant and lovestruck in these two gorgeous stories. These give me the same like, sinking stomach-feeling I get when I stare at pictures of Lewis for too long — like just the tiniest bit of melancholy that makes the whole experience sweeter and more emotional. Does that make sense? It’s one of the highest compliments I can give. 

Covering the Classics ❤️‍🔥by @roosterforme — BOB AND ANNA! ANNA AND BOB! I COULD SCREAM ABOUT THESE TWO FOR HOURS! I love them, this is such a beautiful, heart wrenching, emotional roller coaster of a story about learning how to find yourself and your people after heartbreak and trauma. Anna is such an interesting, complicated character and Bob meets her at every turn with love and tenderness and the biggest open heart in the world. (And also the steamy scenes are BEYOND, like, damn, Bob, neither Anna nor I was ever gonna be able to resist you.)

I Heard Screaming ❤️‍🔥by @oncassette — Yes, it’s a classic fanfic trope — I heard noises and walked in on you enjoying some *private time* while thinking about me — but it’s a classic for a reason. I love it and I reread it all the time. 

Four Eyes ❤️‍🔥by @promisingyounglady — I’m going to quote what I wrote the first time I reblogged this wildly, delightfully, insanely filthy fic: “I need to sit in a dark corner and replay this fic in my brain like a movie now.” It’s that good

Misc. Lewis Pullman Characters: 

Dancing Beneath the Moon ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Rhett Abbott) — Del is *the* Rhett Abbott fic writer, in my opinion, and choosing just one of their fics was so much harder than I thought. But ultimately, I’m still so spellbound by this one, where Rhett is a ghost haunting the former Abbott ranch. It’s atmospheric and moody and gorgeous and the pining is top notch — as is the image of Rhett being a grumpy, mischievous house ghost. Also please check out their Floytt universe which I also adore. 

Coyote ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Miles Miller) — An omegaverse with a twist! The reader is a wolf being married off to broker peace with another prominent wold family … only to run away with the sweet, gentle coyote who works at the desk of the El Royale.  Dip You in Honey So I Could Be Stickin to You ❤️‍🔥by @laracrofted (Harrison Knott) — Harrison Knott, the man that you are. And the man that you are in this fic, specifically. I need him desperately. Carnally. In a way that is concerning to feminism.