#Rhett Abbott fic

[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

[freak-accident419]

knockin' on heaven's door

Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: The day after an intense, drunken argument with each other, you decided to cool down with Rhett by the lake to talk things out the proper way. As you both dwell on the time you first met, you finally confront the unspoken thing between you two. (Rhett Abbott x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/n, no pronouns for reader, no specific genitals mentioned for reader, penetration, oral (reader receiving), reader is implied to be a musician, sex by the lake pretty much, so public sex?, friends to lovers, your dogs are little shits (some silliness)

A/n: if you’re new to this account, hello! I strive to write gender-neutral reader fanfics to encourage the use of gender neutral language, usage, and pronouns in xReader fics! Inclusivity is important, especially in the year 2025 <3 having said that, I would love to use my platform to show it is possible to write in fics where gender does not play any (significant) role. Happy reading <33 reblogs and likes are much appreciated :)

Taglist: @pearlstiare @gryffindorquid-ditchcap-blog

-

A heavy sigh left your lips as you shut your eyes softly, the gentle wind blowing towards your skin and the nearby trees. You felt grounded through your slow breaths, sitting above a cloth blanket that separated yourself from the muck surface. You've never felt such tranquility and peace in a long time.

Instantly, however, you were brought back to the earth, feeling an object fall lightly onto your knee. In your cross-legged position, your eyes shot open, finding that the object was a stick that your dog had dropped to continue his exhilarating game of fetch. Huffing, you grabbed the slender trunk and threw it in the water to entertain him, watching him sprint towards it after.

Last night was exhausting. It shouldn't have even happened, but it just did.

You got into a stupid argument with your close friend, Rhett. You knew him for several years, as he was one of the first people you met when you moved to Amelia County, and yet you still couldn't get used to his daunting idiocy. He was even more stupid when drunk, which he had been the previous evening. The verbal fight ended bitterly, as you gave up on explaining yourself, feeling burnt out.

You felt like you needed a break from everything, which impelled you to find solace in nature. You could tell that Rhett needed it too. Therefore, you casually proposed this idea, also prompted to bring your dog, Leo, and Rhett's dog, Stu. Those two mutts somehow got along with each other more than you and him would.

The sky was slowly transforming into a muddy blue as you two had only just arrived at the lake by dusk. Moments passed by then, but the two of you barely spoke to each other since you first got here; just silently setting up the blanket and beers, engaging with the dogs, and lighting cigarettes.

He still sat beside you, though. He wasn't angry with you, but neither were you angry with him.

After taking a mellow drag of his cigarette, Rhett extinguished the silence with his western twang. "I'm sorry," he mutters, exhaling the misty smoke.

Your ears perk up at the sound of his apology, turning your head to look at him. His eyes never looked at yours yet, as they remained onto the glassy lake.

Stubbornly, you asked, "for what?"

Rhett shook his head. "You know what."

He finally turned his head to face you, his soft, dark eyes looking into yours. "I was being a drunk asshole last night," he elaborated shamefully. "I shouldn't've snapped at you like that. It was unnecessary."

You couldn't muster up the courage to prolong the eye contact with him, looking down as you knew you were guilty too.

"Well, I just made things worse," you sigh, throwing the stick again once Leo fetched it. "I knew it would've upset you, but I kept rambling on anyway."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place," he reasons, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, but you were drunk, so I only elevated things by arguing back instead of being mature."

Rhett suddenly scoffs with a grin of levity. "Well, would you look at that?” He comments instantly, “We seem to be arguin' with each other once again.” You two looked at each other for a split second before chuckling it off, smiling at the issue rather than scowling.

His dog, Stu, moved to lay down beside you on the blanket. Your palm met his smooth, fluffy coat, petting him idly.

"To be honest," you huff under your breath, "I totally forgot what we were arguing about last night."

Rhett snickers, amused by your confession. "At least I have an excuse for not remembering. Weren't you sober?"

Your shoulders shrugged as you let out a faint snicker. "Well, that’s just how forgettable that stupid argument was."

You both felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders once you talked it out, releasing the tension between you two. After all, you've always had a friendship built on mutual understandings, which was one of the things that made you work well together.

For the next few minutes, you two were just sitting with each other quietly, hearing the hushed chirps of the crickets and the two dogs now roughhousing close by the lakefront. It was a comfortable silence nonetheless, as you found Rhett's sole presence soothing.

"Do you, uh," he began roughly, nodding towards you as he fidgeted with his fingers, "do you remember how we first met?"

You chuckled breathily, shaking your head. "How could I ever forget?"

He grins at your response. "You were just... playing your guitar at The Handsome Gambler like always..." Rhett described the moment as if it happened just yesterday. When you first moved here, a full-time job just wasn't enough for you to thrive on, and so you entered the gig economy, playing live music at the local bar.

"Then this asshole," he continues with an eager smirk, "he, uh... You were playing... what was it...?"

You remembered that night like the back of your hand. "Knockin' On Heaven's Door,” you two ended up saying at the same time with a shared smile.

"Right," he says pleasantly. "Well, this asshole, he begins to just... heckle you, you know? For what—‘butchering’ a Bob Dylan song with your version? Anyways, I just... I couldn't just sit there and watch you get criticized by this dickwad, so I..." He playfully gestured a punch in the air.

"Hey, you beat him up hard," you laugh, remembering the scene quite fondly. "I was scared he wasn't going to be able to get up!"

"He deserved it," Rhett sneers pridefully. "But I was drunk too, so that probably… y’know, made me more aggressive… Hm, and then what? You bring me ice for my knuckles and thank me for it?"

"Yeah," you nod, confirming what happened right after the fight. You smiled to yourself as you thought about the memory, until a curious consideration came across your mind. "Hey, I always wondered... You barely knew me at the time. Yet you defended me like that. And you didn't come out of that fight unharmed either—you knew you were going to get bruised too. So... why did you do it?"

Rhett was slightly taken aback, not expecting that question, nor prepared with an answer. He took off his cowboy hat thoughtfully, setting it aside on the ground as he ran his hand through his tamed hair. "I dunno. I just... I've been around that bar several times. Saw you play the moment you first arrived, and then every other night since then. I always enjoyed your performances. Kinda felt protective when that son of a bitch started talking shit. Plus, I really liked your take on the song. It felt… original. Sounded nice. You know, I’ve always loved your playing before you stopped with the gigs.”

“Really?” You smiled wistfully, appreciating his attentiveness for you. "Well, I'm still forever grateful for what you did. And I mean, I was still going to play regardless of that guy, but... it meant a lot to me at that time."

You both looked at each other warmly. If you had to be honest with yourself, you would admit that your friendship with Rhett wasn't as simple or typical like others. There was this underlying feeling of admiration and affection that fell towards a more intimate tone rather than friendly. Of course, you two were close friends before anything, but you couldn't deny the romantic tension between you two.

As stated before, your friendship was built through mutual understandings. There was no doubt that you two knew your feelings might've been reciprocated.

You had been through a lot together. After meeting him many years back in that bar, you were still very close to him now. You were always there for him, from his failed bull rides to the recent disappearance of his sister-in-law, and he was there for you at your lowest moments, be it your financial struggles or awful past.

"You, um... You mean a lot to me," you mutter hesitantly, adding on to your previous statement. You looked up into his irises, which seemed to resemble a hauntingly beautiful cyclone, convinced you were drowning in them due to apparent breathlessness.

Frankly, the two of you were sick of this unspoken thing between one another. You knew there was something there, something more, but none of you had the guts to do anything about it. Right now, however, it finally felt right to just try.

Rhett's breath shivered as his eyes bored into yours, feeling his heart swell at your words. Hesitantly, his hand went up to cup the side of your face, feeling your soft cheek in his palm. Naturally, you leaned into his touch, blinking slowly as your breathing matched his.

And suddenly, you felt his lips meet yours, pressing a soft, gentle kiss against them, instantly feeling a blissful sense of euphoria throughout your body. All those years of tension and close calls, and you finally had him.

It was a brief kiss as you two looked at each other coyly, unable to stop grinning like the idiots you were.

Eagerly, your hands cupped his face as you kiss him again, feeling his hands grab your waist as it became more ardent than before. The kiss itself wasn’t at a fast pace, yet deeper compared to your first. His lips moved with yours fervently, fingers slipping under your shirt to feel your stomach and waist. His touch explored your ribs and your chest, fingernails lightly dragging over the skin so ticklishly. It was a new sensation, feeling the hands that belonged to Rhett’s touch you like this, feel your body like this.

Rhett became rougher, slipping his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. His hand under your shirt moved to your back, his palm cupping your spine as he rubbed your skin. Then, he moved his fingers to the hem of your shirt, eager to undress you. After lifting it over your head and throwing it off somewhere, he laid you down on the blanket, attaching his lips to your neck. You laughed delightfully at the action, indulging in the fact that you would finally have him like this, knowing that he adored you the same way you adored him.

He pulled away briefly, sitting up to remove his shirt, then laid back down on top of you, kissing you once more. His gentle palms continued to explore your warm skin, trailing from your stomach, to your chest, then back down to your waist. He worshipped your bare torso in awe, taking advantage of the privilege of seeing you shirtless like this. Your body was addicting and he was desperate to keep feeling you against him.

“I’ve waited,” he muttered huskily in between slow kisses, “so damn... long for this.”

With his face back in your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin, he fumbled with your belt. His skilled fingers worked to unbuckle it as he kissed you, unzipping your pants after and dragging them down. Once the article of clothing came off, his lips dragged down your sternum to your lower stomach, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. He glances at you for a second with arousal and appeal before hooking his thumbs under the elastic, slowly dragging the cloth down your legs.

You felt the cold air hit your exposed warmth as the thin fabric made its way from your knees to your ankles, until Rhett finally slid it off your feet. He moved his head between your legs, hands resting on your hips. He began to nip at your thighs sensually, switching between your two legs as he would inch his way up your inner thighs. You shivered lightly at the feeling, his eyes gazing intensely into yours before his mouth began to work on you.

You gasped and flinched at the feeling of his tongue against your core, letting out a quiet moan as your eyelids grew heavy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pinning them to the ground after your legs merely trembled at the sensation. He slowly yet passionately licked at your most sensitive parts, prolonging the eye contact as he tasted your flesh.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging it lightly in pleasure as he continued with his movements, closing his lips around you. More whimpers left your mouth, feeling confident you were going to reach your orgasm through this. That was until he pulled away with a smirk, you whining at the loss of his touch as he quickly got out of his jeans. Throwing it to the side, he slipped his boxers off, letting his length spring free.

Seeing him naked above you stirred a new, indescribable feeling of arousal in yourself. Watching the man you’ve adored for years prep your body for him to take.

“You ready?” He mumbles, looking down at you for your confirmation.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah.”

Rhett’s hands propped himself up against the blanket, hovering above you to see your face. As his cock slowly pushed through your entrance, his lips parted slightly, opening his mouth in awe of the feeling. The further he moved into you, he had stretched your inner walls until his hips met yours. The two of you let out a satisfied moan once he was fully sheathed inside of you, your tightness bringing him immense pleasure.

Rhett couldn’t believe he was taking you right now. He’s wanted you for so long, and now, you were finally his.

With a short peck against your lips, Rhett began to thrust in and out at a steady pace. He didn’t want to go too fast so soon, as he was just indulging in the feeling of your body around him. Just knowing it was you he was making love with had spurred him on. He’s never felt so good before.

“Fuck!” You cry out once he decided to increase his pace. With each thrust, his cock caressed your fleshy insides, him letting out low grunts with every movement. His gentle, warm hands moved down your sides until they reached your thighs. Firmly gripping onto the flesh, he wrapped your legs around his waist to fuck you in a much closer position.

Soon, the sounds of him ramming into your body echoed louder throughout the quiet lake as the lewd, wet noise of skin slapping against skin filled your ears. You whined softly at the gratifying feeling of him pounding into you like this.

Your hands moved to cup his face, trying to kiss his lips as much as you could while he thrusted his hips. The moment became more intimate as you poured your deep affection for him into the kiss, only for it to not last as long, due to your persistent moaning.

“Oh, Rhett… Mmm…” you whimper, closing your legs tighter around him to push him in deeper. One of his hands left your thigh to reach for your palm, interlocking his fingers with yours next to your head. Rhett groaned as his eyes briefly closed shut, his pace getting quicker, motivated by the beautiful sounds escaping your lips.

“God, you feel too good,” he mumbles hotly, continuing to penetrate you as he reached down to nibble your neck. Rhett's moans were loud and feverish, nearly drooling in his mouth from the pleasant feeling of your body.

However, the blissful moment was ruined when you hear your dog barking in your ear.

”Fuck,” you huff, frustrated by the interruption while Rhett felt prompted to continue his motions, regardless of the circumstance, “go away, Leo.”

Your dog whined at you, continuing to yelp, in which Rhett couldn’t help but laugh, his thrusts faltering. “Leo, git!” You pant, trying to push his scrunched face away with your hand.

Rhett’s movements inside you came to a subtle halt as he chuckled softly at the circumstance. “He wants you to throw it,” he snickers.

You turned your head to see a new stick that your border collie brought you. “Yeah, I know,” you sigh, grabbing the stick as you looked at Rhett’s grin, unamused. Finally, you threw it far, adjacent to the other dog by the lake, hoping the two would go back to being occupied with each other.

“Damnit, that is such a mood killer,” you scoff, looking back at the snarky cowboy above you.

“Yeah, we probably should’ve done this back at your place,” he says with a teasing smirk.

“Well, you’re the one who decided to do this here,” you retort.

”And we’re only here because you brought us here,” he raises an eyebrow, chuckling.

He had a point. “Oh, shut up.”

After an affectionate giggle, Rhett’s lips kisses yours again slowly, in a rhythm that no song could ever surpass. He angled his head to kiss you deeply, gradually beginning to thrust into you again with his hardened length. You moaned, feeling his cock rubbing your flesh once again, moving in and out. For now, his movements had been slow, focusing on the pleasure his body brought you.

Rhett’s hands left your fingers and thigh, hooking his arms under yours to grip the back of your shoulders. This allowed him to thrust faster, his hips finally rolling rapidly into yours. “Oh, fuck!” You whine at the powerful new pace. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

Rhett moaned with you shamelessly, mouth gaping in pleasured wonder. “You’re so damn beautiful, you’ve always been so fucking beautiful,” he rambled under his breath, kissing your lips sloppily, “cum with me, sweetheart, come on.”

Before a coherent word could leave your mouth, a loud, long moan escaped your throat once you came intensely. As your walls clenched amorously around his girth, Rhett spilled his warm, white semen inside of you, groaning as he kept himself in that deep position.

You both panted heavily, catching your breaths as Rhett collapsed on top of you, his sweaty, bare chest pressed against yours. A lazy grin appeared on his face, peppering light kisses on your neck.

You didn’t want him to pull out yet, but you knew he had to, whining softly at the loss of his warmth once he did. His dark, gentle eyes were fixed on yours as they had the entire night, cupping your face for another doting kiss.

Rhett’s lips pressed against yours passionately, tasting you once again with both affection and lust. After the short gesture, the two of you lay there, comfortably naked by the lake, as it might as well have been the Garden of Eden. You looked at each other tenderly, as there wasn’t enough words to describe your affections towards one another.

Your head rested on Rhett’s heaving chest, idly tracing his tattoo with your fingertips. You knew you would eventually have to get dressed and get back home, but you gave rein in the pleasure of this particular moment.

It simply felt like heaven.

[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

[mustyrosewater]

part two is out pookie bears! go show it some love <3

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚

𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,424

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she went missing, disappeared without a trace, it was almost like a deep seated black hole found it's way into rhetts chest, as he recalls all his time spent with her admist trying to find answers, the deep seated energy of the cursed lands they live on come apart to make way for lovers to find each other again.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader haunting the narrative, missing persons, religious themes, supernatural elements if you squint. narrative told through time skips and flashbacks.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so the lewis pullman resurgence seems to have pulled me out of my cave, i can't promise ill be back to publishing on a regular occurence, but my ethel cain love has seemed to have pried this out of me. inspirations of a southern gothic nature, ethel cains music, and the movie lake mungo. if you guys get invested enough in this i'll release part two.

the dull hot wind is the only sound finding its way through the window opened only a crack, blowing the ripped white cotton curtains back and fourth softly, the peeling white paint around the window frame catching the early morning rays in a way that almost makes it look like a painting. 

even in the cramped single bed with a spring mattress that creak with every minute movement made, they’re so still that no sound emerges from its springs. in this moment, nothing exists outside of this old bedroom, nothing except the pair of them achieving what some might consider peace, or at least whatever semblance of peace they could find in between the hellscape of a small christian town they live in together.

she smells like bar soap and the old antique perfume she’s had for god knows how long that never seems to run out, the cotton dress splayed over her body practically soaking up the scent which he makes a point of resting his nose against, his eyes shut softly as he feel’s her fingers running across his scalp, his head resting on her chest as he feels the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the slow heartbeat seemingly matching pause with his own to create a song unlike any he’s ever heard before. 

maybe this is what they meant whenever they mentioned heaven, not some pair of pearly golden gates with a swarm of angelic choirs, maybe heaven was just this bedroom in her folks old farmhouse that they’d lived in for generations, maybe heaven was him resting atop her as she played with his hair absentmindedly and stared out the window to the field staring back at her with an overwhelming silence.

she felt like the mountains were watching her, like they were their own conscious being’s with such wisdom that would never match her own, guardians watching everybody live and die, countless stories they could never tell. 

his eyes finally opened to stare across at her, the concern on her face seemingly breaking him out of the trance he was stuck in; this is how it always was when he was with her, he’d spend hours in her arms only for it to feel like minutes, lying in the arms of a creature like her, sometimes it felt as if he was looking across at the face of god, yet he knew how much trouble such a statement could get him in with her ma and pa, if they even knew about the pair of them. 

so many nights climbing in and out of her window, fleeting moments and time spent together going down the drain quicker than he ever wanted it to, he wanted to get the fuck out of here, take her with him, go wherever his truck would take them. 

he could see the worry in her eyes, the way she stared out the window like she knew something was coming that she couldn’t stop, some unmovable and unchangeable fate that she couldn’t run from if she tried.

when her head finally turned to face him, he could see the look of concern in her eyes now changed to sheer horror, her mouth opening but no sound coming out as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

rising from his resting place on her chest, just as he lifted his hand to place a hand on her cheek, he felt his hand fall into nothing, darkness overtaking anything he could see as the sudden feeling of falling intruded upon his senses like a wash of ice cold water. 

-

4:02 AM

the red numbers across from him on his side table glared into his vision, the dull red light only filling up a small amount of his bedroom as he awoke with a soft gasp, his eyes looking around wildly for a few moments as he sat up quickly; trying desperately to find her in his bed where he could have sworn she had been only moments ago.

the reality of where he was came crashing down on him as his eyes flutter closed, the ramming thumping of his heart beat trying its hardest to crawl its way out of his chest as he lifted a hand to his face, the feeling of sweat across his skin bringing him back down to earth.

every time he had that dream, it always felt like he got closer every damn time, that maybe he’d finally be able to touch her and hold her.

maybe this time he’d be able to bring her back with him, out of his dreams and back into his arms where she belonged. 

everybody in town had tried to tell him that she’d skipped town, that she was probably my halfway across the country with a new name and a new identity. 

it wasn’t uncharacteristic of the people in this place to try and bury the memory of that they didn’t understand, try to pretend like it never even existed in the first place; they sure as hell never understood her, even he didn’t sometimes. sometimes when he’d look in her eyes, he had no idea what was looking back at him, what sort of secrets lied behind those pools and what was she trying to run from. 

the sheriff’s effort was minimal when it came to investigating her disappearance, extending as far as putting up a few missing posters with a photo of her standing smiling in the church choir, the smile on her face doing nothing to off set the look that was always ever present in her eyes, the picture always being more haunting than fond to him. 

it seemed that he was the only one who wasn’t content to just let her fade into obscurity, for the missing posters to just become another face in the crowd to be forgotten, the image of her continued to remain burned into his mind, his every waking moment taken up by questions of where she was, what happened, was she okay? 

it had been like this every day since she hadn’t shown up to church on sunday, concern seeming to rise with her folks when she’d remained gone since that morning, unsure if she’d even come home that night.

it wasn’t the missing church that had made rhett start to feel that pit of dread in his stomach, it was the fact that she hadn’t been to see him. 

as far as he’d been told, all her possessions were left behind in her room, nothing was missing save for the silver cross she always wore around her neck, the only thing she would never leave the house writhing, the cross he’d held between his fingers as she lay beneath him many a night, looking up at him like he was an angel. 

when she was officially declared missing, he’d be unable to hide his reaction, his jaw tensing when her ma had relayed all the details to him with a shaky voice when she’d come by to ask if he’d seen her, citing that she’d seen her chatting to him after church once or twice. 

if only her poor old ma had known just how deep their connection went, just how much her daughter’s disappearance was causing bile to feel like it was rising in his throat, a black hole growing larger and larger the longer she was gone. 

it like she’d simply ceased to exist, like she was there one moment and the next not. but he knew that didn’t happen, people don’t just fade out of existence and never return. she had to be somewhere out there, somewhere waiting for him. 

seven weeks later, and her absence was still a constant presence leering over him at all times, seeing her missing posters as he drove past the bus stop in his rusted truck, seeing her folks farmhouse up on the hill as he drove across the dirt road back to his own home. 

he’d taken the time to visit her folk’s every now and then, convincing himself he wanted to see how they were holding up, telling himself you would have wanted him to make sure they were doing okay; once every few weeks became once a week, which then became every three days. he’d bring them groceries when they needed them, even stayed to make sure her ma would actually eat, the grief of her lost daughter seeming to place her in a downward spiral. 

her pa wasn’t handling it any better, spending his every waking hour in the shed out back, isolating himself from everyone around him and refusing to speak to anybody save for a sentence or two, most of all rhett. 

he could make sure her ma was okay at the very least, even if it meant sitting with her in the kitchen as she showed him through photo albums looking over childhood photos of her standing ankle deep in the lake down the hill from her house, her face frozen in a laugh as she held her white church dress up away from the water. 

the pain was like a hot knife searing across his throat, keeping himself composed even as her poor mother shed her tears for her lost daughter, joining his hand with hers in a prayer even if he never thought of himself as a particularly godly man. 

yet even now, sending off his prayers to a god he didn’t believe in hardly seemed like a fool’s act, silently promising that if he could find his way back to her, that he’d never question again, never stop going to church till he was too old to walk, and even then, he’d damn well crawl. 

when he’d first seen her standing in the family graveyard across the field, he’d thought it was his own mind playing tricks on him, convincing himself that the lack of sleep from staying up all night with a grieving mother had made him so weary to the point he was now seeing the flow of her white church dress in the distant darkness of the night. 

when he’d blinked, turning his head completely to face the eerie site of the uneven headstones sticking into the ground, there was nothing there, only the reeds growing out of the hollow ground flowing silently in the cool autumn wind. 

as he’d climbed back into his truck and slammed the door shut, he taken a moment to rest his forehead on the steering wheel, a deep sigh emerging from his ribs as he tried to reason with himself, assure himself that he wasn’t going nuts, a trick of the light shining down on the farm by the half moon was all it was. 

the land around here had a strange way of playing tricks on people, sometimes it felt like the ground itself was breathing, like standing in the back of a giant. the tree’s were ancient the mountains even more so, some used to say that there were forces at play that would drive even the most sane man to do unspeakable acts. 

maybe the land itself had swallowed her up and stole her from him, claiming its pound of flesh in order to keep some undisturbed force at bay. 

if that had been the case, he would have gladly allowed himself to be swallowed up with her. 

he truly hadn’t mean to go looking, he’d insisted with himself that it was purely because the police weren’t doing enough, having essentially filed her away to the depths of a cabinet to be forgotten. he told himself that if he just went a little further, he might finally be able to have her back in his arms safe and happy just like he always had. 

sometimes going looking results in more questions than answers, even worse so, answers to questions you’d never think to ask. 

he didn’t know what he’d expected to find as he stalked through the tree line near her families home, his eyes peering from top to bottom as he searched for any sign of her presence, any little detail that could give him insight into where she’d gone. 

even if it had turned up with nothing, he could at least find some semblance of peace knowing there was nothing to be found. 

and yet, he had done so little to prepare himself for the possibility that something would find him. 

hanging across a branch in the distance, catching the sunlight in a way that had managed to catch his eye instantly, swinging softly in the wind, was that exact same silver cross, swaying back and fourth with a soft almost silent jingling as the silver chain collided with itself. 

moving in an abnormal way for the noticeable lack of wind, he took little notice of its almost unnatural movements, only able to let out a pained sound as he wrapped his hands around the chain and pulled it from its place hanging on a thin branch. 

from its placement, all the way to the harsh movements, he couldn’t help but feel like she was calling for him, reaching out of the darkness and pleading with him to find her, a silent scream for help. 

-

12:38 am 

Running the delicate silver chain along his finger tips, he’d made little effort to fight back the emotion of finding the necklace, his throat on fire with the tears he let fall, he couldn’t even tell himself if it was because he was grateful to finally have a piece of her back with him for the first time in months, almost as if her energy was practically radiating off of the metal, or if he was more terrified of the implications that came with it.

He refused to ask himself the why’s and the hows of the necklace ending up hung on a tree in the woods, only promising himself that he’d return to those woods again tomorrow, try and see if there was anything else to be found that might tell him even a little bit more about what happened to her. 

Staring up at the dull cream coloured ceiling of his bedroom, he could only pull the cross over his head and let it rest over his heart as he held his hand over it and tried to fill his mind with happier memories of her, anything that could alleviate from the horrifying images that his mind was playing back like a reel, swimming in a pool of all the things that could have happened to her, trying to believe they weren’t true.

-

It had been a muggy night in the summer when they’d first crossed path’s, even though it was late in the evening, the small town was still brimming with the occasional sound of children yelling out, finally allowed to stay out a little later in the evening to do whatever it is that the young ones did nowadays.

He was hardly excluded from a summer night of activities just like everybody else, seemingly wanting to take advantage of the warm nights while they still could, before they were sucked back into a cold dark winter that brought with it early sundowns and frostbitten mornings. 

The warm summer evening’s brought with it a populace of folk trying to beat the hot night air by venturing down to the lake just down the road from the church, a freshwater sanctuary hidden by tree’s that went barely touched save for the summer months.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d spotted the group of teens running down towards the church as he’d passed in his truck, headlights clearing the dirt road in front of him, revealing what the moonlight couldn’t. 

In his defense, he’d hardly ever needed to pay much attention to the road at hours as late as this.

The stream of white suddenly in front of him had him slamming his foot on the brake so hard that it lurched him forward, a painful reminder of the seatbelt he’d clipped in earlier which dug into his collar. 

With wide set eyes and his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white, he allowed to headlights to make the image in front of him clearer, his heart ramming in his ears so hard he could barely even hear the rumble of the engine.

She’d might as well have been a deer in headlights, her white dress flowing against the soft warm wind as she held a towel closely to her chest, almost as if it would have been a barrier between her and the truck had he not stepped on the break soon enough.

Her wide set eyes focusing on him were quickly moved to the other side of the road, the sound of amused screeches of other girls ringing out as one of her friends ran across to grip her wrist and pull her the rest of the way across the road, playfully calling her an idiot as she urged her to move. 

Her friends amusement at the prospect of her being hit by a car wasn’t as distracting as the fact that as she began to run the rest of the way across the road and towards the lake just down the hill, she turned suddenly and looked back at him through his passenger side window, an unreadable look crossing over her features as the world suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.

The truck didn’t start moving again until she was completely out of sight, disappearing over the hill and completely out of rhett’s field of view, seemingly entranced by the sight of her white dress shining against the field’s in the moonlight. 

The next time he’d seen her had been at the church at the top of the hill. Even if we wasn’t in attendance himself, he’d offered to fix the broken fence surrounding the almost decrepit building, something to keep him busy, probably didn’t hurt that it kept him in the church folk’s good graces, considering just how many of them were littered around the town. 

He was never one for religion, never saw much point in prayer, he’d been under the belief that life dishes out what it does, and that you could only move on and make the most of it for as long as he could remember. But it wasn’t his place to judge what people did to bring themselves any small comfort when it came to the ups and downs throughout, if somebody could gather any form of faith that made things make just a little more sense, he couldn’t blame them.

When that same white church dress came into his peripheral vision like a ghost, he couldn’t have not looked, almost like the wind was singing to him, urging him to look up from the particularly stubborn nail he was trying to pry out of the wood and catch sight of the angel stood at the entrance of the church.

The sounds of shuffling and footsteps seemed to signify that the service was coming to an end, the chattering sounds of voices beginning to grow louder and louder as people began to leave.

It was that same goddamn pair of eyes on him, just as they had been when she’d been stood in front of the headlights of his truck, only this time paired witha tilted head as she seemed to observe him from a distance, her expression once more unreadable, only before the soft smile came across her plush lips when they’d made eye contact. 

He’d stood from where he was kneeling like a reflex, taking a moment to adjust the cap sat on his head, never once breaking the eye contact shared between them, silent yet such an exchange of energy that speaking could never achieve, an unknowable interaction shared only between the two of them.

That was the day he’d finally learnt her name, when he’d heard the sound of her mother calling it from inside, finally causing a break in their eye contact as she turned her head to smile at her mother walking out and taking her daughters arm, the pair stepping down the small set of wooden stairs and onto the dirt ground. 

He’d made a point to look away, just as a matter of politeness, yet because he knew what church folk were like, especially with their daughters, and he could only imagine what it might look like if he was caught staring at her like a bobcat stared at jackrabbit. 

-

4:02 AM. 

[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!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.” 

[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. 

[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

[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.

[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. 

[nana-talks]

starved

pairing: rhett abbott x fem!reader word count: 2k warnings: slight angst

notes: inspired by starved, by zach bryan. gif by @dameronscopilot. i wrote this at work and haven't revised it much, sorry for any mistakes.

now we’re laying on the roof of my car / feeling young, feeling numb, feeling starved

they both had sneaked out from church together, meeting in the parking lot and driving rhett’s truck to the outskirts of the ranch. parked on the green grass, the horizon far far away, sat on the roof with two stale lukewarm beers, laughing and kicking rocks

they met in math class. she was hungry and bright-eyed; he was numb, hurt and closed-off. but just close enough for her to reach him.

it started with her asking to sit next to him on the cafeteria. he looked up, trying to hide how startled her voice made him feel, and shrugged. and so there she sat, every single day, in silence, for 2 weeks. until he finally cracked. he asked if she wanted another slice of pizza before getting up to get himself another round. she tried to hide how startled his voice made her feel, and nodded.

ever since then, a lot of her rubbed off on him - he started to pay more attention in class, do his homework and even get some above average grades.

the kindest parts of my mind are you and me

but he was far from becoming someone he was proud of (even if she were proud enough for the both of them).

he knew she had a bright future ahead. always talking about moving to boulder or even down to salt lake, going to community college, perhaps opening her own store or even becoming a news anchor! he knew there was no place for him in her future.

as much as he pretended and went along with her, saying he’d follow her to the ends of the earth, he knew he would never get the courage to face his mother, much less his father. he resented perry for staying, but he was doing the same. he just wouldn’t forgive himself if he made her stay too - like perry did with rebecca.

there ain’t no world in which i am good for you

as she crushed her beer under the heel of her boot, the small amount of alcohol in her system helped her finally ask: “did you… did you get the application packet? for western?”

he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. he didn’t notice her flinch. “never mind.” she said. “forget i said anything.”

feeling numb

she knew future-talk made rhett shut down. she didn’t even know why she asked in the first place. she was buzzing with the possibilities opening up right in front of her, she just wanted him to see he could walk through those doors too.

she didn’t notice him looking down at her, the way his eyes softened at her invisible pout.

he knew she was excited about what was to come after graduation. he knew she wanted him to share that excitement, but all he felt was fear.

“i did, actually.” he finally responded, making her eyes shoot up to find his.

“and?” she tried to contain her feelings, but her voice trembled.

he shrugged, his voice giving out. “i ‘on’t know”, he whispered. he tried to swallow the fear bubbling in his stomach, but couldn’t.

she stood next to his legs, her body automatically being drawn to him, like a gravitational pull. she didn’t want him to close off again, but she needed to touch him. her fingers twitched, but she grabbed his hand, their fingers intertwining automatically. she sighed, knowing he wouldn’t run away if she was holding him tight.

“i know you don’t wanna talk ‘bout this.” she said, and she could physically feel him roll his eyes. “but i think if i say it enough, maybe it’ll get through that thick skull of yours. you’re good, rhett. you could have it if you wanted.”

stop askin’ things you know the answers to

“what even is it?” he asked, pulling away from you and jumping off the back of the car. “y/n, i get it, you have it all figured out. but not everyone’s like you, okay?” she shivered once again, the late summer morning light not enough to warm her after the cold shoulder he just gave her. “no matter how much better i’ve gotten the past year, my grades are still shit. the best chance i have of getting out of this town is winning the regional division. and even then, what the fuck am i supposed to do in boulder?!”

“i don’t know, rhett… but we could figure it out! me and you. i- i thought you wanted this too.”

he wanted to see her happy. that’s all he ever wanted. which was why he never wanted to talk about the future, because he knew she was working towards something he’d never get to see. he kept shrugging the topic off, postponing whatever it is they were doing right now, hoping if they never acknowledged the end was coming, then it wouldn’t arrive.

so take one last good look / let’s share one last cigarette / i’ll be gone by the time you’re ashin’ it

he wanted to swallow back everything he ever said. he wanted to go back to the moment right before the storm. where he poked his index finger against the back of her hand, laid over top of the holy book, that sunday morning, before tracing the letters G-O followed by a question mark. where a sneaky smirk brightened her lips. where she excused herself to go to the toilet during gospel reading. where he followed suit quietly not long after, pretending not to feel his mother’s eyes on the back of his head. where he found her, leaning against the white wood siding of the church, her baby pink dress slightly flowing in the summer breeze, looking like the very sin he was about to commit.

feeling starved

he ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath before walking back to where she stood. his frame towered hers. his fingers hovered above her cheeks, wanting so bad to touch her, but so scared of ruining her.

there ain’t no world in which i am good for you

he thought she didn’t notice, but she knew. she knew because that was exactly what everybody around her thought - her parents, her siblings, her friends. but she knew that would never happen.

she knew because a lot of him had also rubbed off on her. she used to be such a goody-two-shoes, he helped her release some tension. she was so strict about her studies and the bible, he helped her broaden out. she was very mellow, he gave her fire.

the kindest parts of my mind are you and me

she took a deep breath as well, tucking her fingers in between his before laying his palms against her cheeks and he closed his eyes.

“i know you think you’ll ruin me.” she whispered, and his bright blues found her. “and i don’t get it because, god, rhett, you saved me. i could have had all the good grades, and the all teacher’s eating from my hands, but you made me want to live. and i didn’t have that before.” he shuddered against her, leaning his forehead against hers and inhaling her in. “i know you think i have it all figured out, but the thing you don’t see is that you’re the only thing i want to figure out. don’t you see that? fine, you hate talking about the future. but i want to know why, rhett. why don’t you have the same fire for life that you gave me?”

he sighed and his body was caving into her, his lips brushing against hers before he hid against her neck. he took a deep breath in, forcing his tears back inside his eyes, the lump on his throat back down his stomach. but just the mere feeling of her nails against the back of his neck was enough to make the dam break.

this life took you in, babe / the same life that reminds me i could never love me like you do

“i’m just so scared…” he whispered, the summer breze almost carrying the sound. she kept running her fingers against the curls on the nape of his neck, rocking them slightly from side to side. “this ranch is all i’ve ever known. i was made for this, it’s all my parents have ever wanted from me. i’m a fuck-up already, i can’t disappoint them even more.”

“but what do you want?” she whispered, worried of breaking the tension and he’d go back to hiding behind the bad boy his family loved to hate.

“i want you” he whispered back, allowing his lips to crash against her neck in sweet repeated kisses.

“no, rhett, what do you really want?” she asked, stepping back so she could stare at his bright blue eyes, slightly pink and watery. he’d always do that - say he just wanted to see her happy, to see her achieve her dreams, that it would be enough. but she knew it wouldn’t. because just wanting to see her happy would never get him out of that ranch.

and he knew, deep down, what she meant. he actually had a straight answer, the same one he’s had since he was 7. but it felt like such a cop-out. no one would take an answer like that seriously. he was supposed to want to go to college, to earn a degree, to get a real job somewhere. he was never supposed to want to go pro - his father would have never let him ride in the first place if that’s what he truly wanted.

he couldn’t even look at her as he answered. “i want to ride.” he kicked the red dirt with the point of his boot, taking a deep breath. “i want to ride, professionally.” he completed.

she sighed. of course that’s what he wanted.

he was ready to hear her say anything along the lines of “that’s not a real job, rhett” or even try to comfort him by saying that was “sweet” (as he had heard before). but he was not ready to hear her say: “okay. let’s do it then.”

“what?” he finally looked up and he couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to his cheeks at the look in her face. she looked… proud. “what do you mean, let’s do it?”

“we still have, what, 2 months until the regional division arrives in wyoming? let’s do this then.” she said, picking her phone up from the back of the truck. “do you want to do the cody stampede? or join a pbr team? i mean, i guess we should start local with the mountain states circuit. you’ve tried out for that once, right?”

she could have gone on for a while, he noticed. she was scrolling her phone quickly, leaning back against the tailgate, kicking her boot slightly. she didn’t sound condescending, or annoyed at his small dream. she just sounded… determined. if that’s what he wanted, that’s exactly what she was going to give him.

“hey”, he stopped her mid-sentence with a mere whisper. she looked up, freezing in place, slightly annoyed at herself for going on and on. his eyes were even more watery now. he walked over to her and in one fast swoop, he pulled her off the ground and against his chest. she yelped and her arms flew to grab his neck, trying to hold herself steady. “i-” he had no words.

“i know. and i love you too.” she whispered back against his ear, and he just squeezed his hands against her waist tighter. he finally put her back in the ground, stepping back just to run his fingers against her cheeks. make sure she was actually there, real. “what the fuck?” he wanted to ask. he probably did.

“i meant it, rhett. you’re good. you can have it, anything. the ranch, western university, the entire texas circuit, whatever it is you want. you just have to want it.” she pushed his hair off his face slightly, before he kissed her.

the purest parts of my heart are you and me

[mustyrosewater]

𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐞𝐚

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,138

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she went missing, disappeared without a trace, it was almost like a deep seated black hole found it's way into rhetts chest, as he recalls all his time spent with her admist trying to find answers, the deep seated energy of the cursed lands they live on come apart to make way for lovers to find each other again.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: supernatural elements, reader haunting the narrative except this time its literal, mentions of implied violence, implied native american mythology if you squint, rhett is going through it and doesn't know to to do it without being self destructive.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so part two is here a day earlier than promised because i finished it sooner than i thought, the love shown for part one motivated me greatly so thank you so much for that! i think we might have two more parts to this at absolute best, but i hope you enjoy part two. reader has implied native ancestry, but not heavily.

It had never been his place to question the mysteries of the earth, even as a child, when his mother would tell him to stay away from the treeline after the sun went down, not to look out the windows at night unless you wanted something to look back at you. Even if he put little belief into her superstitions, he could at least respect her wishes.

The night played tricks on the eyes, the shadows moving around always seemingly dancing across surfaces with a mind of their own, enough to drive any sane man to a level of insanity.

When he’d met her, it had seemed she held a bounty of superstitions just the same, yet when she’d explained it to him from her place sitting atop of his waist on the cramped single bed in his bedroom, his hands finding their place along the soft skin of her thigh’s, a bemused smile on his face as he allowed her to ramble away about the folk tales she claimed had been passed down in her family for generations.

She’d told him about how her folk had been out in these mountains for almost as long as the mountains had existed themselves, weaving her words out like a poem or a song, painting a picture of bloodied battles and old traditions long lost to history.

Her family traded in their old ways for crosses and churches, explaining that it was simply the way things were, old languages were lost in exchange for testaments and eventually everything was lost to time. 

He could tell by the way she spoke about the land that the connection ran deep, that unlike the other folk in this town, there was a deeper understanding that even she didn’t truly understand half the time. 

Sometimes she’d ramble to him about how sometimes she could have sworn she’d hear things walking around her house at night, couldn’t help but feel like there was something protecting her; she’d joke that maybe it was the spirits of her old ancestors, or maybe that she was just listening too hard to the silence at night and creating sounds that weren’t really there. 

It was always around that time that he’d pull her into his arms, telling her she didn’t have to worry about anything in these mountains while he was around, when he’d place soft kisses on the crown of her head and take in the scent of her that could bring him into pure serenity.

As he recalled the memory now from his place at the dingy bar he was currently in, he stared down at the brown liquid in the glass before him, the pain of the memory only urging him to drink down the whiskey he’d been served before he found himself tearing up in front of all the other patrons.

With her cross now hanging from his neck, hidden under the red tartan button up, he stood from his place at the bar and turned to leave.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if she jumped int’ the wrong fella’s truck and ended up dead in a ditch somewhere.” 

There was a cruel laughter shared inbetween the words, his ear practically pricking at the sound of the group of men at the bar sharing their sentiments with each other.

He didn’t want to believe they were talking about her, wanted to tell himself there was somebody else, but he couldn’t deny himself as he stood and listened, eavesdropping as they continued further.

“Ones like that, goin’ out lookin’ for a little fun, only to end up in a shallow grave.”

“Just wish she’da ended up in my backseat instead, could’a given her something better than a mouthful a’ dirt an’ worms.”

The smoker’s laugh following what the man had said was making rhett’s knuckles turn white with how tightly he was gripping his coat, his heart starting to gather up the pace of a race horse as he turned and stalked over to where the man was sitting, his back facing him as he gripped the fat fuck’s shoulders, pulling him to the ground so hard that his friend’s hardly had time to react before rhett was laying punches against the mans face.

He couldn’t see anything but red, the idea of this monster thinking he could have even come close to being within her eye sight, to talk about the daughter of a grieving mother in such a way, rhett could only thirst for as much pain being inflicted on this man as possible, so that he might feel even a fraction of what rhett was going through, that he might understand what it is to truly lose something and be helpless, be too late.

It hadn’t taken long for the man’s friends to intervene, dragging rhett away from the bleeding man, yelling profanities and raging like a wild animal; he could hardly even fight back against the strength of multiple man as they dragged him out of the bar and into the asphalt parking lot.

The hit’s they laid on him were brutal, blood coming out of his mouth as he hit the asphalt, assaulted by the plethora of kicks and punches till he couldn’t rise from the ground anymore, until his breathing brought nothing but fire against his lungs.

He can feel his coat get thrown to the ground in front of him as the men leave, only able to feel his rage and adrenaline pumping as he turned onto his back, blood pooling from his nose and mouth which he turned to spit onto the concrete. 

Rising slowly, his vision was blurred as he tried to gather himself, unable to do anything while he sat through the pain all over his body, shutting his eyes tightly as he attempted to get a handle on his breathing. 

Even with the pain coursing across his skin, the fire in his lungs, he could still have recognised that same smell of soap and perfume anywhere, the smell of her. 

Maybe he was dying, maybe the punches and kicks had done enough damage for him to finally just lay down and die; he could only lay back and slowly accept any small mercy to the pain he was currently suffering through.

Even when he feel’s the soft hand running against his face, he doesn’t open his eyes, her phantom touch doesn’t bring any pain, even when it’s pressed against the already swollen cheek that would no doubt bruise heinously.

“Why are you doing this to yourself angel.” Her voice is so subtle it almost blends into the wind itself, a whisper above the sounds of everything around him, yet even as quiet as it is, he would always have been able to hear the songbird that she was over even the loudest of commotions. 

Just as fast as he feel’s her touch, takes in her scent and hears her voice, it’s as gone as soon as it came, almost as if she was swept up in the wind. 

The sudden absence causes his eyes to open, realisation hitting that he was still there in that same parking lot, his head whipping in all directions as he sat up, convinced that her touch had felt so goddamn real there was no way that she wasn’t kneeling beside him right then and there.

-

It had taken him well over twenty minutes to get back into his truck, an even further thirty seven minutes to drive home at a snails pace using the eye that wasn’t already starting to swell up.

Even with his headlights illuminating the first road back to his home, his limited vision was providing a much harder drive than he would have liked, the pain in his rib now leaving him with only one hand to drive his truck.

Whatever it had been before in the parking lot, whatever it was that had touched him and called out to him in the darkness, he couldn’t find it in him to embrace the possibility of it being anything other than a head injury, his mind playing tricks on him over the sounds of the wildlife.

He couldn’t admit to himself that there might have even been the slightest chance that it was you, because only then would he have to admit what he didn’t want to believe was true.

Almost as if the universe was listening to him, as if it had heard his unwillingness and was now intending on getting it’s cruel revenge back onto him, it seemed to come in the form of a coyote in the middle of the road.

As it’s shape came into view, he had at least the good sense to hit the breaks, expecting the animal to simply scatter across the road, yet to his confusion, it continued to stare across at him, the glaring yellow eyes of the animal seeming to focus in on his own.

He couldn’t help but be unsettled by it’s gaze, his stomach seemingly growing into a dark pit of dread, his mind recalling her own adverse reaction to coyote’s, the way she’d told him to be wary of them, claiming that they were trickster’s that got enjoyment out of creating turmoil.

-

Even now, he could remember when the day was ending, when he’d been running his hand across her back, finger tips dancing across the soft skin on her shoulder as she laid there in his bed, eye’s shut but a soft smile on her face none the less.

The setting sun allowed for enough of an overcast in his windows to bathe them in a hue of orange light, almost like the room itself was glowing, casting itself across her in a melody of colours that made her look similar to the stain glass portraits of the saints in her church. 

They’d always talk about so many things when they had this time together, on the rare occasions that her parents wouldn’t have been expecting her back till later, when he’d been able to come get her in his truck, and they’d get to spend these precious moments in each others arms.

“Saw a coyote the other day.” he mused softly, his gaze not leaving her at all as he spoke, allowing his vision to wash over her peaceful figure. “Damn thing nearly made me crash.” he laughed softly, recalling the way he’d had to swerve his truck on the way to her house to avoid hitting it as it ran across the dirt road.

“Mhmm.” her soft hum told him that she was listening, even with her sleepyness already beginning to take over. 

He heard her repeat a word he didn’t understand, a language foreign to him; his silence telling her well enough that he didn’t understand. 

Stretching out her arms, she allowed herself a soft groan as she adjusted her tired muscles, moving herself across the sheets so that her chin was resting his chest, her arm placed inbetween them to keep her head up.

“Trickster spirit.” she clarified, her eyes now trained on him as she nodded her head matter a factly. “My father used to tell me not to look them in the eye’s, or they’ll lead you to your demise.” she spoke, sounding as though she herself even didn’t place a huge amount of merit on the story. 

“That true is it?” he responded to her, his voice slightly croaked as the pair evidently grew more and more tired, sleep on the horizon for the both of them. 

Rather than humor his answer, she leaned forward, capturing his lips as she shut her eyes once more, letting his hand run across her cheek, the rough callous’s on his hand against her own soft skin, the pair of them decided to soak up what ever time they had with each other for the night in each others arms. 

-

His recollection of the memory had him even more disturbed by the creature’s gaze on him, the way it’s eyes seemed to move far too intelligently for an animal, almost feeling like he was being analysed, studied.

It wasn’t until he could hear his heart ramming in his chest that he even realised just how terrified he found himself by the creature, feeling his anxiety kick into fight or flight, his body seeming to respond in a way that signalled an unknown danger from the animal. 

Whether it was a smart move or not, he didn’t care; but his only instinct was to hit the gas, his truck lurching to life as he shut his eyes, willing his own body to stop looking into the coyote’s eye’s, preparing himself to feel his truck bump as the creature was torn under it’s wheel’s, only to feel nothing but smooth road as he sent the truck forward.

Opening his eye’s back up as he settled back into a more reasonable speed, the sound of the skidding wheel’s silencing itself, he spared only a moment to look in the rear view mirror, expecting to find a carcass lying on the dirt.

What. the. Fuck. 

To his utter astoundment, the animal still stood, it’s head turned to watch as he peeled away.

Allowing himself only a moment to look back, he reminded himself to look forward at the road, his anxiety and dread seemingly beginning to clear the further and further he became, as if the larger the distance between him and this coyote, the safer he became.

-

Finally arriving back at his home, swinging open his door after stumbling across the parking lot of his apartment building, the comfort of his own home was barely that, his sense still practically on fire, his own heart still beating with a sense of uncertainty.

The encounter with the coyote had felt as if it had left an imprint on his very soul, the way it’s eye’s had glowed against his headlights, the image was still burned into his brain, seeing it each time he closed his eyes, an inescapable curse placed on him.

His own exhaustion had only left him able to stumble over to his bed, the cotton sheets no doubt catching some of the dried blood already starting to settle over his face, yet rhett could find no room to care about it, only allowing sleep to overtake him like a wave of ocean water.

- 

It was the dripping that woke him, a sound so miniscule against the silence, and yet loud enough to have his eyes snapping open, a dull echo against his ears as it continued it’s slow and incoehsive rhythm.

Even from where he was laying, he could it was emerging from the small hallway in his apartment, the kitchen at the other end being the only light that was creeping across the walls. 

He knew the sink had always been faulty, no matter how many times the landlord had sent over handyman to fix it, as well as the times rhett had tried to fix it himself, it persevered, dripping almost every night to the point he’d become accustomed to the sound. 

Whether or not he was even completely awake yet he didn’t know, yet he rose from the bed anyway, only allowing himself a quick glance at his alarm clock as he approached the hallway, the red glowing numbers showing him the time.

4:02 AM.

Just as quickly as he’d taken notice of the time, his head had turned to the entrance of the hallway, his blood running cold within the span of miliseconds, his body going still as he felt his hands beginning to shake.

The dripping was so loud now to the point it almost felt deafening, his eye’s were wide as he stared across at the figure in the hallway, the kitchen light casting a shadow which left him unable to make out any details other than the dark silhouette before him.

The figure was drenched, dripping wet as a puddle settled on the floor underneath them, there was nothing but silence, the only sound audible in that moment being the ever present dripping, falling off of the shadowed figure and onto the floor.

How long he stood there in a terrified silence he didn’t know, it could have been seconds, minutes or even hours, he wasn’t sure, all he could feel in that moment was white, hot terror.

In an instant, the shadow moved faster than his eyes could comprehend, advancing on him from the hallway in seconds as darkened hands wrapped around his throat, sending both of them to the ground.

Yet rather than the feeling of the linoleum floor of his apartment, rhett suddenly found himself thrust under water, the hands holding him under, their grip so strong on his throat that it burned his lungs, his own hands trying to grip at the figure’s wrists, his vision now blurred as his head was held under the water.

As his eye’s did open, his obscured vision painted a picture of daylight above the water, the figure no longer a being of shadow, now the blurry image of what he could recognise to be a man holding him under.

Almost as quickly as it had happened, rhett suddenly commanded the strength to wrench himself up and out of the water, commanding his lungs to breathe in deeply.

Yet now here he was, sitting in the same bed he had fallen asleep in, his lungs gasping in the breath’s of air he’d been fighting for only seconds ago, his heart was hammering to the point it felt like it would burst out his chest any second, the sharp pain in his throat feeling just as real as it had in his dream.

But if it had been a dream, he had no answer for the way his lungs burned as if they’d been deprived for air, why he could have sworn his head and face had felt only slightly too damp to only be sweat.

As his mind ran with questions, he could only find himself quickly jumping from the bed, almost sliding on the floor as he made his way to the entrance of the hallway, his eyes landing on the spot where that same figure had been.

Trying to rationalise with himself had worked so far, each and every occurrence thus far had been something he’d been able to explain to himself, convince himself that his grief had begun to play tricks on him, that his injuries had caused him to hallucinate voices and smell’s that weren’t there.

But as he knelt on the ground, and placed his finger onto the puddle that still remained where the shadow had stood previously; the way that the water itself seemingly reeked on the creek near the church.

He could find little room left in his soul for any further rationalisation.

[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

[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! ♥

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“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.

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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

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[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 :) 

[sebsxphia]

hey Seb!

i was wondering if you were taking requests, i was thinking Rhett and little reader, where little reader gets really sick from a bug at work, comes home all in little space, all groggy and cranky and Rhett takes care of them?

-Flames x

￫ authors notes: after not writing anything in so long, this definitely got me out of the block for a little bit 🥹 this was absolutely how i felt the other week when i was sick! i hope you enjoy <3

￫ warnings: age regression, feeling unwell and fluff, fluff, fluff.

rhett called you from your ranch as you were driving home. he knew the exact time that you would be on the road back home and he also had an inkling that you weren’t feeling well.

you woke up with a minor complaint about your head throbbing and your muscles aching. you put it down to the yard work you’d done the day before, on sunday.

your text messages to rhett throughout the day were slower than normal and barely contained any words at all.

“you okay, lil’ darlin’?”

rhett’s voice was a warm relief to your ears, as it thrummed through the trucks speakers.

“m’ sorry i haven’t properly messaged you today, baby. my eyes have been hurtin’. i could barely look at the screen.”

he chuckled softly on the other end of the phone and disregarded your need to apologize.

“i don’t think y’ feelin’ too well, are you? you said this mornin’ and y’ were heatin’ up in a pool of sweat in bed last night.”

you winced in the truck from annoyance at rhett’s undeniable fact that you were ill. it was only monday. you were adamant to avoid this and you were fighting the little itch in your head.

“nah, i think i was heatin’ up because of you, cowboy.”

rhett laughed again on the other end of the phone and you could hear him shaking his head.

“come home, let me take care of you. please, lil’ darlin’.”

you felt your bottom lip begin to wobble at his sweet name for you. you chewed at your bottom lip to avoid the murmur and didn’t say a word.

“baby? you okay?”

concern laced his voice.

“m’ just so tired, daddy.” you groaned in defeat.

the name for rhett and the tone in your voice made him switch up his posture, his voice, his own mindset, in an instant. he knew what you needed.

“i know, lil’ one. i know. how far away are you now, hm? y’ can’t be far. keep drivin’ lil’ one and daddy will be here when y’ get home. i promise, bambi.”

he stayed on the phone with you for the next ten minutes and guided you home safely. he was frighteningly aware that driving in your current headspace could pose as a danger. he himself was on edge, with his knee bouncing vigorously, until he heard his sweetheart pull into the drive way.

the gravel crunched under rhett’s heavy boots as he paced towards the passenger door of your truck. he saw your tender face wince in pain as he opened the door for you. your eyes were already watering and a look of desperation was etched over your features.

“oh, my little one. c’ere.” his strong and comforting arms reached out to haul you out of the truck and into his warm hold. he made a mental note to grab your belongings later when you were settled.

he gently helped you shed your clothes from the day and dress you in a larger t-shirt of his. when being this little, you would opt for one of your little rompers decorated in illustrations of cowboys, but your sticky and warm body couldn’t handle something so restrictive.

you continually let out small, cranky groans in discomfort. occasionally you babbled and grumbled about how much you ached, or how hard your head was throbbing. rhett consoled each of your protests with a reassuring kiss to your warm forehead and a gentle hum of words.

“i know, bambi. i know. daddy’s here now. gonna get y’ comfortable, get y’ somethin’ to eat and drink, ‘n daddy will cuddle ‘n smother you, all night.”

he clipped on your pacifier clip to his t-shirt and slipped it between your lips, before giving you a fleeting kiss to your nose. a small smile cracked at the corners of your lips, before returning to a frown of discomfort.

“hurt, dada.”

you pointed at your forehead and he pressed the back of his hand to your burning flesh.

“you’re burin’ up, bambi. like a lil’ firefly. y’ know what fireflies need?”

you frowned again and shook your head with a small pout.

“a lil’ bit of milk in y’ favourite bottle, light from the television ‘nd a cuddle from daddy! you’ll feel better in no time, bambi.”

rhett put on his most enthusiastic voice to try and convey that his little one would be okay and that they wouldn’t hurt for much longer. his heart ached to see you in so much pain.

rhett knew that the next two days would be the worst for you. but as always, he kept his promise until his little bambi was giggling and squealing constantly at his light tickles.