#Rhett Row

[fennecfics]

If I had a nickel for every time I drew a character copying Will Wood’s Normal Album cover, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice-

I’m not gonna talk about Dexter or Spooky Month at all in this post, I just wanted to make the reference.

But this is my new Trolls OC!! His name is Rhett M. Row (he/him). I’m REALLY proud of his design.

I’ll see if I can post about him more

and Chaz..

…Chaz.. <3

[jula483]

heart eyes in the intro. 2/2 so far

[delopsia]

"Do you wanna dance with me?" Do not repost without credit

I couldn't pick a color scheme...so you get both.

[joearlikelikeswrestling]

[mochirialgworl]

WHAT IS GOING ON???

Why the hell is rob lowe on gmm???

y'all couldn't get anyone else? like Peppa Pig or smthn?

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

If you liked this, you may also enjoy on our syllabus Bob From Pi Kapp.

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

Want more Frat Cowboy Bob? Hang out with Bob From Pi Kapp!

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[sparkle-jules]

I will say this wholeheartedly: this game makes me sad. Like, why would you continue to have them play a game that one of them sucks at? It isn't fun to watch. It seems demoralizing and Link has to go out of his way to not be a bad sport because they will eat him alive in the comments if he shows any irritation at losing now 8 times in a row. Just stop. It isn't a good look for Rhett either. There are so many things they are both good at. And seriously, no one could come up with a serious answer for Link? Wearing glasses? Dinking? Get the fuck out of here.

[fennecfics]

More Rhett (and Chaz):

I need to make an actual reference sheet for this mf I made him so absurdly detailed XD-

Also that Chaz sketch was me experimenting with the TrollsTopia art style, which I took inspiration from when drawing the trolls.

I actually really like this small comic thing, I think it fits with Chaz.

And then one of my favorites <3

[ourpickwickclub]

It is not strange? Thomas Rhett can fill arenas, Morgan’s doing multiple nights in a row at football stadiums. They’re opening for him. Like when Stapleton and Blake opened for George strait

Blake was not an opening act for George. Cody Johnson and Caitlyn Smith were the openers for both of them. Same with Chris. He was not the opener. I believe Little Big Town was.

“Setting the stage for icons Blake Shelton and George Strait seems a daunting task, but openers Caitlyn Smith and Cody Johnson were up for the job.” And headlines said “George Strait/Blake Shelton tickets go on sale”.

I believe Blake toured with George in 2009 also, for multiple dates, with Julianne Hough as opener. That felt more like a supporting act than the joint Foxborough concert ten years later.

All that aside, I think Blake would not mind being billed as an opener for George, and I believe he has said he would love that, even though he wasn’t. But I def think he would not be an opener for MW. George and MW are not the same in cm. George is king and MW is popular right now.

And ML is def an opener for MW.

- B

[jula483]

boys 💜🖤

[delopsia]

Ok so I’m assuming Rhett is 30 ish because Lewis is 30 (almost 31 in like a month) but like Rhett with reader who is younger than him by a good number of years (reader being 23 at youngest probably) what’s the relationship like? Was he super reluctant at first because of the gap? How do we meet him? How does the family feel? What if he’s her first “real” boyfriend? How would he react to reader asking him to take their v card?

When I tell you that this has been stuck in my head since you sent me this, oh my GOD. I've been meaning to write this concept with Rhett and Bobby for over a year and keep forgetting to 🤤 I got a little carried away. Hope y'all don't mind 🤍

Canonically, Rhett is twenty-four, but I think we as a collective have chosen to ignore that 💃 here's my proof post on that, if you're curious 💕 TLDR: Rhett was born June 12th, 1996, and OR S1 takes place in November 2020

For the sake of this post, I'll just leave it and say he's noticeably older than the reader ✨ I don't want to set a specific age for him and accidentally exclude someone :(

I like to view an older version of Rhett as someone who's still into the rodeos; he's gotten up there in the bull riding ranks, and though he's a year or two away from aging out of it, he's still up there kicking ass when you first encounter him. It's your first time coming to this rodeo, and you're not sure what to think when you see him leaned up against the fence in that quiet, rugged glory so many cowboys seem to carry. Older than the rest of the riders, so jaded by buckle bunnies that he hardly notices the ones trying to get his attention.

The first time you walk past him, he lifts the corner of his lip and nods his head toward you as if to say hello. Some simple little thing that gets you smiling, hoping to high heaven that your friends don't notice the sudden weakness in your knees. Three Sundays in a row, you go to the rodeo with your friends, and three Sundays in a row, you walk past him on your way to the food trucks. Three Sundays in a row, he smiles and nods his head at you.

You think he's just being nice.

Rhett just thinks you're hot.

But he's too tired of entertaining relationships with folks who only want him for what lurks beneath his championship buckle and to tell all their friends they fucked a real cowboy. It was fun when he was younger, but after a while, like most things, it gets old.

So when he sees you at the bar after a rodeo one night, he doesn't think too much about it. Sneaks a few glances at you out the corner of his eye, sure, quietly wondering how pretty his name would sound coming out of your mouth, but that's it.

Until some hotshot decides that he's going to give you hell while your friends are in the bathroom. And Rhett's within the perfect earshot to get rightfully pissed off. He's not particularly one to get into someone else's business, but he's also not too fond of this whole "badger someone 'till they give what you want" technique the younger boys have been employing recently.

"'s this guy botherin' ya?" He asks, in that gravelly voice, his elbow propping against the bar, speaking to you but his eyes never once leaving the steer wrestler giving you trouble. He's got a history with this kid; this isn't their first confrontation.

Of course, you don't know that when the younger man goes nose-to-nose with Rhett. But oh, if it doesn't make you the slightest bit dizzy when Rhett's jaw hardens at your meek 'yes.'

He only means to scare the guy off and go back to watching his buddy eat shit at the pool table, but your friends are taking forever to come back, and he's found himself offering to sit with you until they do. You're asking his name, and he's ashamed to admit that his heart jumps at the sound of his name on your tongue.

You don't seem to care all that much about the age difference, and Rhett's got no reason to be concerned; your age doesn't end in 'teen,' and you can legally drink, but he's found himself a touch hesitant to flirt with you. Isn't all that fond of breaking his heart over another sweetheart who stumbled into Wabang.

But you just keep running into each other. You're in line with him at a food truck; he sees you at a rodeo bonfire and chats you up until your friends are begging to head home. He's given you his number, and he's catching himself looking for you at the end of his rides.

And then he's busting his left shoulder after a ride, and somehow, he's found himself outside of the ambulance, being backed up against a wall as you kiss him hard on the mouth. It's the first kiss he's had in years, and your hands on his big chest are the sweetest thing he's ever felt. It's everything, and it takes every ounce of his will to draw your hand off of his belt buckle.

"Y' don't wanna do that," his whispered warning drips off his tongue like honey, and oh do you want a taste, "'m 'fraid if I let ya have me, I might follow ya 'round for the rest of my life."

He really doesn't know what to do when you smile and ask, "But what if that's what I want?"

How he survived that, he doesn't know. But a kiss-filled conversation ends in him agreeing to take you on a real, proper date. He takes you to Odessa's diner for lunch, pulls your chair out for you, and never lets you touch a door, and he gets along with you so well. It helps a lot that he's been on a funky little life path that has given him many of the same experiences as you. There's an age gap, sure, but his stage of life isn't too different from your own. Especially because he was a bit of a late bloomer with this whole 'adult' thing. The perks of being emotionally stunted by Royal...

Rhett doesn't differ that much if he's your first boyfriend; he's sickeningly sweet, regardless. No amount of experience or inexperience will stop him from going all out on you; if there's one thing his momma did, it was raise him right. You might as well be royalty. That being said, he's happy to take the lead (or give it up) depending on your experience level.

The relationship isn't all that different from how it would be if he was your age. There are some generational references that take time to understand, and Rhett's age shows the most when you try teaching him to use Instagram, but that's a given. He's a little bit smug when you're with him in public, especially at rodeos. He knows he's struck gold, and he intends to show you off as much as you're comfortable with. Protective, too. Those bull riders know better than to linger and try their luck with you. More times than you can count, you've overheard the whispered warning, "That one's Rhett's."

Rolls his eyes when you (affectionately) call him old man...

To be fair, Rhett does try to wait until a few weeks into your relationship to start getting intimate; he wants to take things slow with you, but then you're cupping him through his jeans, and he's breathless as you massage him through the fabric. And when you sit in his lap, wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and grind your ass down into him? He's a goner.

If you're a virgin, then he's extra careful with you. Takes some more time to draw your clothes off, slow as he kisses down your belly until he can run his tongue up your sweet little pussy. But he's obscene about it, regardless. Groaning around your clit, letting you yank on his hair all you need. Frustrates you to no end because you're trying so hard to get him to fuck you, and all he wants to do is eat you out. Four times. Four times, you rile him up, and the most progress you make is getting his jeans off. He doesn't mean to upset you, he's just a whore for giving oral.

Until that one time at the bar when you hauled him into a bathroom stall, dropped to your knees, and wrapped your mouth around him before he could get under your skin.

That got him. You couldn't take all of him, gagging every time his plush tip hit the back of your throat, but his knees were shaking. Moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Trying his best to pull you off when he came and damn near hit the floor when you instead chose to swallow him down.

Again, if you're a virgin, then there isn't a huge difference in how he treats you when he takes your virginity. Not out of impatience or anything of the sort, but it's your first time together. He's going to treat you like a virgin regardless. Overusing the lube as he introduces you to a thick, calloused finger, watching your reaction for the slightest hint of pain. "'s this hurt? No? You sure?"

Annoyingly pushes the tip of his cock against you, then lets it slide through your folds, obsessed with the sight of it. But just as you're going to complain, he finally nudges inside, and it silences you completely.

If there is one thing about Rhett Abbott, it's that he's huge in more ways than one. Splitting you open in all the right ways, big hands stroking up and down your skin, whispering the filthiest things into your ears. "Think 'm almost too big for your lil pussy, angel." "Shhh, we'll make it fit. Jus' relax 'round me." "'s that feel good, sweetheart? Y' like bein' stretched 'round my cock like that?"

He ruins you either way. You never pegged yourself to be this insatiable, riding him in his truck, fucking him outside the bar, in bathroom stalls, cheap hotel rooms, bending over the hood of his truck while he had a flat tire. It's not your fault; Rhett's just that damn good, and he's somehow able to match you entirely. Rolls his eyes a little, sure, but he's just doing that to annoy you. "This old man fucks you that good, hm? Cute little pussy ain't satisfied 'till I pump it nice 'n full of my cum?"

Sometimes, he tells you he's too tired for sex and then turns around and pounces on you because he heard you whimper once and had a second burst of energy.

Which...is how your relationship gets found out. He's left a mark on your collar, and at some point, you bend down to pick up a fork you dropped, and it gets noticed. So you either got in a fight with a vacuum cleaner and lost, or you have a little someone.

The worst part is telling everyone how old he is. Rhett's got this funny charm where he looks younger than he actually is, and it nearly makes someone choke at the dinner table. And Rhett's not the best with people, but he's quick to make a good impression. He's like a fine wine; he's gotten better as he's aged.

You'll likely never meet Rhett's family, and if you do, it's a handful of times for no longer than two hours. After Rhett moved out, there's been tension every time he sees his folks. He was supposed to stay and spend his life helping the ranch, to honor his family loyalties, not run off and find love in someone else. Cecelia's sweet, doesn't say anything about the age gap, so long as you're both happy. Royal...you don't know what he said, but you had to grab Rhett by the belt to reign him in.

All that being said, Rhett's a sweetheart to you, regardless of your age gap. There are some differences that wouldn't be there if he was your age, but he's keen to work on those things together. Rhett doesn't fall in love often, but when he does, he falls hard, and he's going to give you the world. Even if you do call him old man every now and then.

Like I said...I got carried away

[callsign-magnolia]

Last Christmas

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

Warnings: Illusions to cheating, mentions of alcohol, crying.

Summary: Your relationship with Rhett is great, until it's not. But was it truly ruined, or did everyone else's opinions influence you.

This was for @lewmagoo's Christmas celebration! I'm still trying to stay offline but I just had to post this!

Word Count: 5.3k

Masterlist

“I love you, darlin’.” Rhett whispered as he rested his forehead on mine. “I love you too, Rhett. With all of my heart.” I whispered back as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me close as he swayed us between the trailers. The town's annual Christmas party was a hit. It was held at the rodeo grounds, and of course, with it being Amelia County, we have an annual Christmas rodeo. Rhett had an amazing ride, taking first place for the second year in a row. As soon as he came out he scooped me up into his arms, kissing me in front of the entire crowd. It's been almost  a whole two years since we started dating, and I couldn't be happier. In high school, I never could've imagined myself with Rhett. We knew of each other but I never thought he'd be interested in me. So I was very shocked when we bumped into each other when I moved back home from college and he asked me to dance at the Pit Bar.

“You still haven't told me what you want for Christmas.” He said, leaning me against his trailer. “I told you. Same thing as last year. Just you.” I said, pulling him into another kiss. “Oh come on!” He said, squeezing my sides and making me giggle. “You forced me into telling you what I wanted, and I know you got it.” It was true, I held him by the crotch in the Abbott Family barn and threatened to not sleep with him unless he told me, and I did buy it. “So I think it's only fair if you tell me.” He said. “Rhett.” I whined and he pressed me into the trailer a little harder. “C'mon darlin. I think I know what you want.” He said and I raised a brow at him. “And what do you think that is?” I asked. “I saw you looking at that book collection on Amazon.” My eyes widened. “Well, I did love the first book.” I listened to it on my phone and I've been dying for the series since. “And I think you'd love a gift card to that lingerie store up in Casper.” I quickly nodded at him in excitement. “I knew you would.” He said, pulling me into another kiss.

Christmas came and I talked Rhett into staying the night with me on Christmas eve. We woke up bright and early to open our gifts and of course I got the book collection and the gift card. But the look on Rhett's face when he opened his gift was the best thing I could've gotten on Christmas morning. “I only asked for the bridle darlin’. You got me a saddle too? How did you hide this?” He asked. “You never set foot in the basement.” I said, giggling. “Because it's creepy.” He retorted. “But I got it because the one you have is so old and worn, and you constantly complain that it hurts your back.” He had been complaining for the last year and a half that the saddle killed his back. So I made sure that I got him a saddle to match his bridle. “I think Honey will appreciate it too.” I said and he chuckled. “You're right.” After we opened our gifts we grabbed everything we needed and made our way to his parents. Amy begged for us to be there when she woke up, so we negotiated that we'd show up before she got up. Rhett was practically vibrating in his seat, so excited to see Amy open her gifts. He loved that little girl more than anything. I think he loves her more than me someday, but I couldn't complain.

We quietly came in the door when we got there. Royal was standing in the living room sipping his coffee when we walked in and it took everything in me to not giggle at the man. Just like the rest of us he was in a red shirt and reindeer pajama pants. Amy begged us to wear matching pajamas and we all agreed, Royal a little reluctantly. “Well, you look comfy.” I told him and he grunted. I just laughed at him before walking over and pulling him into a hug, which he begrudgingly returned. Cecilia smiled at us, coming over. “Merry Christmas." She hugged us both. "Merry Christmas, Ma." Rhett responded. "Quick!" Perry said, rushing down the stairs. "She's waking up!" Royal, Cecilia, and Perry quickly sat on the couch while Rhett and I sat on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace. Soon we heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. Amy's hair was wild and she was rubbing her eyes when she saw us. "Uncle Rhett!" She yelled before sprinting to him. As soon as she got close enough she launched herself into his arms. He squeezed her tight and she giggled. "You knew we'd be here." He said and she buried her face in his shoulder. "I was worried you wouldn't come." She said and Rhett's face fell. "Why?" He asked and she shrugged. "I told you we'd be here, and we're here aren't we?" He asked and she nodded. "Right. Now, let's open all these presents. Looks like Santa brought ya a lot." Her attention immediately shifted to all of the gifts under the tree. Soon gifts were handed out and Amy ripped into hers. She was happy with everything she got and could hardly sit still for the rest of us to open ours. Once that was done we ate breakfast before going out for a Christmas ride.

"You can use your new saddle." I said. Rhett just chuckled and shook his head. "Didn't bring it," he said. I told him to put it in the truck, but I knew he didn't. He wants to keep it pristine, but I bought it to be used. "Check the bed." I said and he sighed. "When did you sneak it in there?" He asked and I smiled at him. "When you went to the bathroom." He groaned and turned towards the truck, going to grab the new saddle and bridle. I just chuckled and got my horse ready. Soon we were ready and headed out to the South pasture. It was bitterly cold and I was in as many layers as I could move in. "You cold?" Perry asked as I walked my horse out of the barn. "Very." I muttered. But I squealed as a snowball hit my chest and exploded. "Perry!" I yelled. He just laughed as I gathered my own snowball, launching it at him. He stopped laughing as my snowball nailed him in the chin. It was my turn to laugh as he stood there with his eyes closed, wiping snow off his face. "Right. Fastpitch champion." He said and I nodded. 

“Three years in a row, Per." Rhett said, leading Honey over in her new bridle. I smiled at him as he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in close. "That just made me love you even more." He said, giving me a soft kiss. The ride was long but I eventually warmed up. Soon everyone else went back to the house, leaving Rhett and I alone. The snow started again so we decided to go back. "We've almost been together a whole two years." He spoke up, I smiled at him and nodded. "We have.” I responded. "January 19th." I lightly bit my lip and looked at him. “You remembered?” I asked and he nodded. “How could I forget the best day of my life?" He said and I giggled. "Ma's even been asking me when I'm going to marry you." He said and I sat up a little straighter in my saddle. "Is that… Is that something you want?" I asked and we were quiet for a minute. "I do. Do you?" He straight up asked me "Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He gave me a wide smile and turned to face forwards again. “So… are you gonna ask?” I asked him and he laughed loudly. “Oh no. You’ll never see it coming.” He said with a sly grin. “Okay, just don’t try to scare me with it.” I said. “I ain’t makin’ no promises.” He replied. 

The next day it was after work and I was putting some of Rhett’s laundry away in his lone drawer he has at my house when I saw a navy blue felt box. I stared at it for a moment before setting the laundry basket down and reaching for it. I held it in my hands, debating on if I should open it or not, but eventually I did. I gasped when I saw the gold ring, sitting on the plush navy cushion. It was a pear shaped diamond on a yellow gold band. “I guess he did listen when I talked about rings.” I said to myself. My finger twitched as I considered putting it on. But my thoughts were halted by a voice. “Honey? I’m home.” Rhett’s voice echoed up the stairs and I all but tossed the ring box in the air. I juggled it before slamming it into the drawer. “Just a minute!” I called down to him before stuffing the clothes in the drawer as well before rushing downstairs. 

A week later there was the New Year’s rodeo. Amelia county has a rodeo for everything and it sure shows around the holidays. Rhett showed up a few hours before me as usual, but I always slipped back behind the trailers to see him one more time before he rides. But this time, I wish I hadn’t. I gasped as Rhett pushed the black haired girl away from him, her lips making a smacking noise as they left his. I gaped at him as his eyes met mine and a look of horror crossed his face. “Honey-” He started but I cut him off. “No-just… No.” I turned and started walking away from him. He called my name, rushing up behind me and grabbing my arm. “Do not touch me!” I said, swinging around, my hand connecting with his face. He looked at me in surprise. “Honey, please it’s not what it looks like.” I shook my head at him as the tears started falling. “No! It was!” I yelled at him. “When we first started dating, everyone told me what kind of man you are. But did I listen? No! Because I thought I knew you. I thought you would never do this to me.” I said as tears of his own fell down his cheeks. “Dammit Rhett! We were talking about getting married exactly a week ago! I can’t believe you would do this to me!” I said. “But I didn’t-” “I saw you Rhett! You can’t gaslight me!” “I’m not trying to gaslight you!” He took one step closer and I took two steps back. “We’re done, Rhett.” His shoulders shook as a sob racked his body. “Honey, please. Don’t do this. Let me explain.” He said and I shook my head. “All the explaining was done when I caught you kissing someone who isn’t me.” 

“Mom, please.” I said as she squeezed me to her. “Your daddy and I are just so glad you decided to move back home.” She said. “But I do hate that Washington didn’t work out for you.” When Rhett and I broke up, I struggled. I entered a dark place in my life and I knew I needed a change. So by Valentine’s day I had gotten myself a new job and moved to Washington State. Life was good there, but it wasn’t Amelia County so come Halloween I had made plans to move back. I got my old job at the county tag office back and my parents are letting me live with them until I find my own place again. “It’s okay, it means I don’t have to spend money to come home for Christmas in two weeks!” I said and mom nodded. “I really do appreciate you and daddy letting me sleep in my old room until I get my own place again.” I said. “Well you know, the old Wilson farm is up for sale.” My dad said. “Daddy, I don’t have the time to take care of a whole farm. Nor do I really want to.” I said as I followed him into the kitchen. “You did when you were with-” “Daddy. Please don’t say his name.” I said, taking a deep breath, fighting back tears. My heart still hasn’t healed from last year. I’ve tried focusing on myself, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else, or even sleep with anyone. I so badly wanted the distraction but just the thought of being with someone else had me in tears. 

“Besides, he’s probably forgotten about me anyway.” “Oh no, he has not!” Mom said, walking into the kitchen to join us. “Mama-” “Every time that boy sees your father and I he makes it a point to ask about you. How you’re doing, are you enjoying life in Washington? That boy is still smitten with you, sweetie.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t have done what he did, if he really did love me.” My dad scoffed. “That boy is in love with you, and he will always be in love with you.” I huffed and turned to my dad. “I’m your daughter. Aren’t you supposed to hate any boy that cheats on me or hurts me in any way?” I asked. “Well yes. I did corner him right after you moved, I blamed him for it but he explained everything and I can’t be mad at the boy.” I furrowed my brows at him in confusion. “What did he say?” I asked and my dad shook his head, lifting his coffee mug to his lips. “Not my place to say.” I raised my brows at him. “Not your place to say?” I scoffed. “No, it’s not my place. When you see him, he can tell you.” I shook my head. “I’m hoping I don’t see him for a long time.” 

The next week at work it was almost dead. But at least once a day we get a busy spurt. I heard the bell above the door go off as I was helping someone and I froze as I looked up. Those crystal blue eyes met mine and I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. I totally jinxed myself by saying ‘I hope I don’t see him for a long time.’ How could I forget that Rhett has a December birthday? I thought as I finished with the person in front of me. I was hoping someone else would get him but as my client stepped away, I realized I was the only person available. Our eyes met and I so badly wanted to get up and walk over and kiss him, but I didn’t. “I can take whoever’s next.” I said, turning to face my computer. “Hi.” He said quietly as he stepped up. “Hello Rhett.” I could be petty and ask for all of his information, but that would have him standing in front of me longer. “Just renewing your tags?” I asked and he nodded. “It’s a two- thou-” “Two-thousand six GMC Sierra.” I said, cutting him off. “You remembered?” He asked and I fought back a small smile. “I remember when you got that thing sophomore year.” I said as I put in all of the information. “I wound up taking you to school the morning after I got it because your shitty little car broke down.” I bit my lip, remembering everything. I was four miles away from home but eight miles from school and I got very lucky that Rhett had to drive down the same road as me to get to school. 

“Yeah.” I muttered as I printed off his tag renewal. “Can-can we talk?” He asked as I slid the papers to him. “No, Rhett. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I said and his mouth hung open for a second. “O-oh. Okay. Well, have a good day, darlin’.” Before I could correct him he walked out. “I’ll be back.” I said to my coworker before walking back into the break room. I grabbed my makeup bag and keys before rushing out to my car outback. I was breathing heavy as I got in and soon the tears kicked in. I cried and cried in my car, mascara running down my face as I leaned my head on the steering wheel. But I sat up quickly when I heard an engine revving and a dark blue GMC Sierra blew behind my car and out of the parking lot. I cried more before I managed to stop. I cleaned my face off and redid my makeup before going back inside. As soon as I sat down my coworker Amanda turned to me. “Are you okay?” She asked and I took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” I said. “Okay, well that gentleman you helped came back in looking for you, but I told him you went out to your car.” She said and I nodded. “Thank you.” I responded. 

I didn’t hear from Rhett. He didn’t try to call me, come see me or anything which I was grateful for. I don’t know if I could handle it. But then came the town's annual Christmas party and rodeo. I tried to get out of it, but mama called me out on all my bullshit and practically dragged me out of the house. I pouted the entire ride to the rodeo and my parents just made fun of me the entire time. “You realize I’m not going near that gate, right?” I said as we got out of my dad’s truck. “Sure you won’t.” My dad said. “But just so you know, Rhett has had a rough season and everyone is convinced that Luke Tillerson is going to beat him out this year.” Rhett would never let Luke beat him out. But if he’s had a rough season, then could he really stop Luke? Luke has always only been just a few spots behind Rhett and Luke could never stand it. Maybe I could walk over for Rhett’s ride? He would be too focused to look for me once he’s on that bull. I followed my parents around, greeting everyone but I stopped when I heard a voice call out my name. I turned to find Amy sprinting for me. I smiled, opening my arms and squeezing her tightly when she almost knocked me over. “Wow! You got big in the last year!” I said as she looked up at me. “I was so excited when Uncle Rhett said you’re back! Will you be at house on Christmas morning again?” She asked just as Perry, Cecilia and Royal walked over. I squatted down so I was more on her level, even though she still stood over me at this point. “Not this year, sweetie.” I said and tears welled up in her eyes. “Why not? Uncle Rhett said you were home.” I nodded. “I am, but your Uncle Rhett and I, we’re not together anymore. So we won’t be spending any holidays together anymore.” I told her. “Amy, it’s okay. We can still go and see her if you want.” Perry said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Can we?” She asked and I nodded. “Whatever you want, sweetie.” I said, hugging her again. “C’mon, let’s go get some hot chocolate.” Perry said and she excitedly agreed. “Good to see you.” He said and I waved at him. 

“We’re glad you’re back.” Cecilia said, pulling me into a hug. “I’m surprised so many people are happy I’m home.” I said and she raised a brow at me. “Why wouldn’t we be?” She asked. “Well with everything that happened between Rhett and I…” I trailed off and she chuckled. “That boy still loves you, but I think that’s a conversation you wanna have with Royal. Rhett has told him more about what happened than me.” She said before someone caught her attention and she wandered off. Then my attention turned to Royal. “Hi Royal.” I said and he held an arm out, pulling me into a side hug. “Hey.” He grunted. “Daddy told me Rhett’s had a rough season.” I said and he nodded, leaning on the gate as a rider was let loose. “He has. He’s been doing good, but not as good as he has in the past.” He said and I nodded. “Do you think it’s because of me?” I asked. If Rhett’s not focused like he needs to be, he could really get hurt. “He’s been so focused on what he could do to get you back, he’s been distracted from everything in the last year.” He said. “If he wanted me back, why did he stop calling after two days?” I asked, huffing. “Because he realized you’d never take him back if he wasn’t the man you deserved.” I raised a brow at him. “He can explain it better, but I’ve never seen Rhett cry so much. He came to me two days after y’all broke up, and he asked me what I thought he needed to do to win you back.” He said, watching the riders intensely. “You know, I was in the same situation with his Ma about a year after we got together. I told him he could tell you he loved you all day long, but until he proved it to you with his actions.” He said and I nodded in agreement. “Maybe talk to him, hear him out and make your decision from there.” He suggested and I nodded. “I’ll think on it Royal.” I replied and he nodded, clapping a hand on my shoulder before starting in the direction Cecilia went. 

The next rider up was Luke Tillerson. I wanted to see the next few riders so I watched. Luke held on for a total of four seconds before he flew off, barely getting his feet under him. I watched a few more riders before it was Rhett’s turn. I fought the urge to stand up on the gate and yell as loudly as I could. But as soon as he was turned loose I couldn’t help it. “GO RHETT!” I screamed, standing on the gate. He was holding on tightly and he was laser focused and as soon as the eight second buzzer went off he let go, flying off the bull and rushing for the gate. But he skidded to a stop as the bull cut him off. “RHETT!” I yelled, catching his attention and he made a quick left turn. The bull was on his tail until someone else caught his attention and Rhett launched himself over the gate, landing on his back next to me. “Oh, shit! Rhett?” I asked, bending down next to him. “Rhett? Can you hear me?” I asked as he gasped for air. “Okay.” I said, grabbing his hand and helping him sit up. I took his hat off his head, fanning his face with it as he caught his breath. “Thanks.” He said as he could finally breathe normally. “You’re welcome.” I said as I helped him stand. I brushed some dust off of his arm and he smiled at me. “Good ride.” I said and he nodded. “Better than Tillerson’s.” I said, giggling lightly. “So you’ve heard.” He said and I nodded. “My daddy told me, but I knew you’d never let it happen.” I said as I met his eyes. 

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Listen, I know the other day you said we shouldn’t talk… but I really need to talk to you. I don’t expect you to take me back, but I can’t go on without you at least knowing the truth.” He said and I stared up at him. He held my gaze, almost searching my face for an answer. “O-okay. But after your last ride.” I said and he gave me a soft smile. “Thank you.” He said and kissing my cheek. “Gotta run.” He said before taking off for the other riders. I was a little stunned by the kiss and stood there with my mouth gaping for a moment before I came to my senses. I cleared my throat before going to take a seat for the next two rides. I watched as everyone made their second and third rides. Rhett’s second ride was another perfect one, with the exception of the bull not cutting him off. But he was in first place and Luke was in second, the scores were close and I was nervous for his last ride. Luke went and had a perfect third ride, but come Rhett’s third I could see how tired yet determined he was. I watched him climb into the chute, the bull he was on starting to throw itself around. Time slowed until the buzzer went off and the chute opened. Rhett was hanging on for dear life, but I gasped as his hand came loose and he went flying off the bull, landing on his shoulder. He had injured it once already and I knew this new injury would be worse. 

“Rhett!” I yelled as I ran over, worried about him. Two of his buddies were helping him over to a bench when I got there. “How bad is it?” I asked. His breath was shaky and his skin was clammy. “I think I knocked it out of place again.” He said and I grabbed his hand, slowly lifting it until he cried out. “Okay, want me to help you put it back in place?” I asked and he nodded, fighting back tears. I grabbed his wrist, slowly lifting it until he couldn’t handle it anymore. “Ready?” I asked and he nodded. “Okay.” With that I quickly lifted his arm and rolled the ball of his shoulder back into socket. “AH!” He yelled out. “Okay. Okay, it’s over.” I said as one of his friends handed me a sling. “Let’s get this on.” I said, guiding his arm into the sling as his breathing started evening out. “Do you need a pain pill?” I asked and he shook his head. “No, I stopped taking them.” He said and I looked at him in surprise. “Oh, really?” I asked and he nodded. “I stopped drinking so much too.” He said and I smiled at him. “And how do you feel?” I asked. “I just popped my shoulder out of place. I don’t feel like I’m layin’ in a field of daisies.” He said and I laughed. “Well after they announce the scores, why don’t we get something hot to drink and have a seat somewhere so we can talk.” I said and he nodded. “I’d like that.” We sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t awkward like I expected, it was comfortable, but I could tell he was nervous. 

“Hey,” I said, resting my hand on his. “You’ll come out in first place.” I told him and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “You’re usually right about this stuff.” He said and we continued to wait. “And in first place…” The announcer said. It was between him and Luke and I knew he was nervous. “Local boy and winner for the third year in a row, Rhett Abbott!” The cheers were deafening as I squealed, pulling Rhett into a hug. “I’m proud of you!” I said out of habit and my face turned red. Many people came up to congratulate Rhett but finally we managed to grab some warm apple cider and Rhett led us back to the trailers. “You okay?” He asked, looking back at me as I trailed behind him. “Yeah, just thinking about the last time I was back here.” I said truthfully and he nodded. “C’mon.” He said, taking my hand and leading me over to his GMC. He set the tailgate down before getting into the back and pulling out a blanket. “Here, I know you get cold.” He said. I took the blanket from him, thinking about all the times we were wrapped up together in this blanket. “So, what did you want to tell me?” I asked as I climbed onto the tailgate. He sat next to me, taking a deep breath before letting it out. “What you saw last New year’s, it really wasn’t what you thought it was.” He said and sighed. “She originally asked me where Luke was and I told her I didn’t know. Then she started asking me things like how long I had been riding for. I didn’t want to be rude so I just answered her questions.” I nodded, showing him I was listening. “She asked me if I would go out with her, and I told her no because I wasn’t single. I turned to face her to tell her we were dating and she grabbed my face, and kissed me.” He said.

“I couldn’t just shove her away, she was tiny, she would’ve gotten hurt and then there would’ve been more problems and Joy would’ve gotten involved. I was trying not to panic but then you caught us and my entire world just fell apart at that moment.” I took a deep breath, looking down at my cup. “You had every right not to believe me, and to dump me. But I really needed you to at least know the truth.” He told me. “This has been the worst year of my life.” He said and I nodded. “Mine too.” I said and he raised a brow at me. “I’m sorry I ran you out of town.” He said and I chuckled. “You didn’t run me out of town Rhett. That was all me. I thought it would do me some good, but apparently it didn’t.” I said and he nodded. We sat in silence until he lifted his head and looked at me. “Dance with me?” He asked, holding out his free hand for me and I stared for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” I said, taking his hand. His free hand fell to my waist as his hand in the sling took mine as my own free hand rested around his neck. “Your dad told me you’ve been focusing on how to get me back.” I said and he sighed. “I realized I had to prove it to you.” He said and I nodded. “Even just tonight I can see how much work you’ve put in.” I said and he smiled at me. “I still really love you, darlin’.” His forehead fell to mine, just like it did last year and I smiled at him just as ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! came on. “This song really sums up this last year.” I said and he nodded. “I still love you.” He said. “So much. And I was wondering, would… would you give me another chance? You don’t have to, but I have to at least ask.” I still really love him. So much so that it hurts. “Okay.” I said and his face lit up. “But we’re really gonna have to take this slow.” I said and he nodded. “Whatever you want, honey.” He said. His face slowly inched closer to mine as a few snowflakes fell around us. “Are you gonna kiss me or just breathe in my face?” I asked and he chuckled. “Can I kiss you?” He asked and I just rolled my eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. He pulled me against him, crushing my body to his. “Fuck I missed doing that.” He said, pulling away and I grinned at him. “I did too.” I said, kissing him again. “I love you, Rhett.” I couldn’t resist saying it. “I love you too, darlin’.”

[hederasgarden]

Ooooooooh Ivy I just had a little thotty thot, although I couldn't decide which Lew character this would work best for. I'll let you do the pickin (lol).

You and said character decide to go to the drive-in on a warm summer night to see a reshowing of Raiders Of The Lost Ark. Of course you guys are enraptured by the movie but you've seen it to the point where you both know it line for line and scene for scene. It led to the two of you thoroughly fucking each other in the back of your vehicle and a rather kinky Indiana Jones roleplay when the two of you got home (lol).

Mary, I love getting asks from you!!

This is 100% Rhett in my mind! He has the hat and whip somewhere in his closet, you cannot convince me otherwise.

This inspired a drabble. NSFW, 18+ only. Fingering and semipublic sex.

For your date night at the drive-in, he'd bring a nice warm blanket and some beers. He knows his best chance of convincing you to fuck him in the bed of his truck involves getting you all hot and bothered. He would start by resting a hand on your knee and go from there. All his touches would be light and teasing until he had you squirming. Then, he'd lean in and press his lips under your jaw, carefully pushing aside your underwear to get to the wet heat of you.

Sure you might make a halfhearted protest but by the time he's knuckle deep you're grabbing a fistful of his shirt, breathing heavily.

“Please Rhett," you'd beg, and god, if that doesn't go straight to his dick. "I need more….ah, I need you.”

"I got ya Darlin'," he'd promise. "Got a blanket in the bed of my truck and we're the only ones in the back row."

Your lashes flutter and you purse your lips. "You planned this," you accuse, groaning into his neck when his thumb circles your clit.

"Sure did, sweetheart."

Rhett knows he has you when he adds a second finger and you ride his hand like the best damn bull rider he's ever seen. He lets you get close, waiting to hear the special sound you make just before you come. Then he pulls back and you make desperate, needy little noise.

"We can stop if you prefer," he offers, licking his fingers.

You curse his name, and Rhett grins.

Talk Shop Tuesday - Send me an ask!

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Two

Amaranth

Chapter Summary: A routine Sunday morning turns unexpected as you and Rhett meet in secret away from your families.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! Protected PinV sex! Cheating! Religious talk/references to Christianity!

Word Count: 6,000ish

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

Breakfast between your parents went better than you expected, not that you had a set list of things you thought was going to go wrong. Perry of course charmed them as always. Whenever he was around them, a charismatic switch flipped and he had them wrapped around his finger. 

You didn’t eat much at the diner though, nerves having you on edge.

Rhett’s words swirled around in your head like stew, replaying the moment over and over again in your mind. You must enjoy torturing yourself. While everyone was talking and eating, you couldn't bear to even touch your french toast sticks. Now, you were looking at everyone else’s choice of breakfast and beginning to get envious of them. 

The sticky syrup was just too much for your throat, causing you to sputter and choke every time you try to eat one- causing you to eat none.

Feeling miserable, you played house the rest of the day at the Abbott ranch, much to your dismay. Every time Perry came up and tried to act all domestic with you, your skin crawled. 

Rhett was nowhere to be found, (un)fortunately. He was not in his room when you checked, nor was he outside in the snow or in the barn. You did not want to ask where he had gone, the actual knowledge might make you feel even more upset. 

His truck had not come back even by the time you had gone to bed, eyes flitting past his dark room as you went to the Perry’s across the hall. Your sleep was little, causing you to toss and turn in that tiny bed with rough sheets. 

You watched the sun rise through Perry’s window. Once it was an appropriate time to get out of bed, you jumped at the chance. Because you did not sleep even an hour, your body was filled with that odd buzzing sensation, making you sick to your stomach. 

To make Sunday worse, you failed to pack a pair of tights to go under your church clothes. It really wasn’t a problem, especially since you packed a pretty wool skirt that went a little below your knees. 

Hopefully they plowed the church parking lot this early. 

Church always makes you nervous. After you moved, you promptly stopped going. No one is forcing you to go now in Laramie. But when you are back in Wabang, you go with your family to keep them happy. It wasn’t like you judged people that did go, but you could name a hundred reasons why you didn't like it. 

But there you were, listening to Pastor James with his bible on the podium. He looked up to punctuate a point, eyes scanning his audience. 

The Abbotts and your family took up the back two rows of the sanctuary, Perry and you right in the middle of a row, second to last, separating your family from his. 

Rhett showed up when you all did, surprisingly enough. Cecilia must have convinced him to go no doubt, not wanting to be the cause of her son’s declined entry to heaven. The close proximity was enough to tense, watching him through the corner of your eye. 

He stayed for a tiny bit, through a few songs and not a moment more before getting up and walking out, ignoring his mother’s quiet protests. His smell lingering by you as his knees brushed yours. 

You watched him leave, chewing your bottom lip between your teeth. 

It was always an adventure at church. One of your older sisters still lived in Wabang with about a dozen kids. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating. It was more like five, but they were all under eight, making it impossible to have a moment of peace. One of the toddlers sat on your lap, babbling something to you while he reached for the collar of your turtle neck. 

He was cute, but you were thankful you decided to forgo hoop earrings because he would absolutely be pulling on them. An older niece of yours ran down the aisle, squealing as her older brother chased her. All the grownups had given up a long time ago trying to control the kids. 

Pastor James’ voice got louder as he started to come to the climax of his sermon, raising a single fist in the air. Perry leaned closer to you, his lips tickling your ear. You kept your eyes glued to the podium.

“You act so good with them.” He mumbles, insinuating your nieces and nephews. He laid his arm across your shoulders, the anchoring feeling from last night at dinner returning. Giving him a side glance and a soft smile, your attention turns back to Pastor James who was shouting now.

“I can see you now, pretty with our babies. Comin’ to church with me every Sunday.” Perry whispers, reaching his hand out so the little boy on your lap can grasp at his fingers. 

It was like someone poured ice water down your back. It was hard to breathe now, all your senses catching up to you. 

Perry’s arm heavily on your shoulders, your nephew pulling on the neckline of your top, a niece or nephew kicking the back of your seat, sickly sweet floral perfume, the heat from the furnace blowing directly on you, Pastor James’ voice ringing through the room. 

Light headed, you grabbed onto the edge of your seat, white knuckling the material.

Pastor James paused, then announced something, his words complete gibberish in your ears. Suddenly, people were starting to stand up around you, even Perry. Looking up, you saw him open the hymn book that was resting on his lap during the last sermon. 

Standing up slowly, you steadied yourself on the backrest of your seat, carefully resting your nephew on your hip. 

As the congregation started to sing, it was your final straw. The hymn book that Perry held was moved so you could see it too. The words were completely foreign to you, blinking to see if they could get in focus. Knees on the verge of buckling, you shoved your nephew at Perry, who gladly accepted him. 

He had no idea what was going on in your head.

“Need to go to the bathroom.” You whispered in his ear, mouth dryer than the sahara. 

Leaning down, you snatched your purse from where it was hanging on the back of your seat. As you walked past your mom she gave you a worried look, so you mouthed ‘bathroom’, eliciting a simple nod from her. 

Pushing open one of the double doors that led you to the lobby you stopped for a moment, evaluating the space to see if it was enough for you to calm down in. Singing voices seeped through the heavy doors and it was still much too hot so you made a beeline for the exit. 

It was still outside, that perfect stillness that you craved and so badly needed. The adrenaline pumping through your veins didn’t let you feel the cold so you just stood there on the concrete, hands bunched in the top of your skirt. You were practically gasping for air, your exhales dissolving in front of you in the form of steam. 

Looking up at the sky, the tiny snowflakes dissolve on your hot skin and create little droplets on your face. Still you were swaying, rocking from one foot to another. Your heart rate started to slow, clearing your head of panic. You did not know how long you had been standing there, but it was long enough for the Wyoming winter to seep through your clothes and skin. 

Too unsure of what could be waiting for you inside the church, you stumble into the parking lot. Perry and your two families also parked in the back, save for your sister who parked at the front so her kids didn't have to walk as far. 

After nearly slipping on a patch of ice, you made it to your parent’s truck. Wiggling all four handles, hoping that they left it unlocked. Next was Perry’s, who you knew did not leave the doors unlocked, but you still tried anyway. Now your hands were frozen solid and it looks like you have no choice but to go back inside the church or freeze to death. 

The latter seemed more appealing right now. 

You hang onto the driver’s side door handle for another moment, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, head hanging low. Trying your hardest to regain your composure.

Head still low as you turned around, back pressing against the freezing metal of the vehicle. Your head tilted back, connecting against the window with a soft thump. Deep blue eyes meet yours and you stop breathing, your own eyes going wide as you see him. 

You hadn’t noticed that Rhett’s truck was still in the parking lot, nor had you noticed that he was still in it. The ice blocks that were your feet suddenly melted a bit, letting your feet carry you to his truck. Only breaking eye contact to avoid stepping on chunks of snow that didn't make it to the pile they had shoveled on the edge of the lot. 

Rhett unlocked the door as you approached, the clicking sound echoing and mixing with the ground crunching under your feet. Stopping before the door, skirts swishing around your legs. Your thumb rubbed over the chrome handle, hesitating a moment before popping the door open. 

The truck smelled like his room, a spicy cologne mixed with raw earth. It was cleaner than you assumed it would be, the gray interior was only frayed in a few spots. 

Grabbing a hold of the handle near the frame, you pulled yourself in, shutting the door promptly. 

Adjusting your skirt, which had twisted around your waist uncomfortably, pulling off your purse and dropping it in the footwell. The silence sat heavy between the two of you, your eyes focused on your hands that twisted in your lap. Rhett was turned in his seat, facing you. The truck isn't running, but providing enough shelter from outside.

“Did you lose somethin’?” Rhett asks, voice low.

“No… Church just isn't my favorite.” 

“Me neither.” He turns back to face the steering wheel.

Silence. 

“Where were you yesterday?” You asked, turning back to the windshield. 

“Out.”

More uncomfortable silence.

“I’m really sorry for going into your room the other night-” You blurted out, glancing over at him, “I just got confused in the dark.” 

The other night, in his bed. The other night, when his touch marked you like a branding iron. 

You only saw it for a second, but you could have sworn he smiled. Lips quirked up the tiniest bit. 

“ ‘S all good. Hope Perry wasn’t too jealous.” Rhett tittered, pulling a weak laugh from you.

“Perry didn’t even notice. He was asleep when I came in.” You laughed, slowly relaxing in his presence. But his brother’s name left a sour taste in your mouth. 

The face you made must've been unknowingly expressive, Rhett now intrigued. 

“What, don’t like my brother?” He asks, a teasing smile on his lips. 

The beginning of strife is like letting out water [as from a small break in a dam; first it trickles and then it gushes]; Therefore abandon the quarrel before it breaks out and tempers explode. Proverbs 17:14

The two of you were never close. It was always you and Perry, or him and Perry. Perry was like the string of fate that connected the two of you together. Never would you tell him that his older brother had made your life a living hell for almost the entirety of your relationship. But after that morning, talking to Rhett like a man rather than the second son of Royal Abbott, made you see that he was changed. 

From that morning you were proved by him that you were not just some silly older girl that he knew, but someone that he had observed from a very young age as a beetling figure in his life. Rhett didn't delve deep into his likeness for you at the dinner table, but you did face sonder sitting in that poorly cushioned lemon chair. 

It wouldn't hurt to tell him, right? He knew Perry’s antics better than anyone, he knew that he could be overbearing. If it wasn't going his way, Lord knows he would do everything in his power to bend it till it did.

So you told him. A lot. Admittedly, more than you should have. 

“... and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because you’re his little brother!” You finally finished, exasperated and flinging your hands up in the air, the gravity of your situation finally falling down on you. 

He looked like he was weighing his options, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Sounds like my brother.”

“What?” You falter, “That’s it? That’s all I get from you?”

“I dunno what you want me to say! All he does is talk about you!” 

With those last words, you could feel his breath dance over your face. While you talked, you had unknowingly leaned across the center console. Rhett must’ve not noticed the sudden lack of space between the two of you because he made no move to retreat, his steely eyes locked on yours. There was no more than a foot and a half separating your faces.

Rhett’s eyes flicked down to your lips, which you instinctively pressed together upon realizing. He looked back to your eyes, squinting them a bit to try and read your mind. It was blank, completely silent for once. Just studying how his nostrils flared when he breathed in, how his jaw muscles moved when he clenched his teeth. It was mesmerizing, really. 

“You don’t look at all like how I remembered you.” You whispered, hyper aware of the close proximity, “What happened?” It was a real question, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“I grew up.” Rhett shifted even closer. He smelled good. Really good. 

“Oh.” You murmur dumbly, but it was all you could get out. Your brain was short circuiting, trying to come up with an excuse out of this clearly dangerous situation. Rhett Abbott, three years your junior, was all grown up. 

Your stomach churned as his chapped lips parted, letting out tiny puffs of warm air that landed on your chin. Swallowing a thick lump that got caught in your throat, you tried to think of Perry, you really did. Think of how much you want to be devoted to him, how much he’s done for you. 

How much you feel trapped, how much you want an escape. 

Want. Want. Want. 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Rhett phrased it as a simple question, no demanding tone was found in his voice. Was he thinking the same?

I want you, Rhett Abbott.

“I need-.” The words were barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. You should be ashamed of yourself. Disgusted and humiliated. But you didn't, you only felt a craving. 

“That’s really not good.” Rhett mumbled, closing the distance between you.

“No, it really isn't.” You whined desperately, immediately closing the gap and shutting your eyes. Your body was split in half. One part screaming no, one part screaming yes. 

The kiss was gentler than you expected for the atmosphere of lust that was clinging to both of you. Rhett’s lips were warm and cautious. He tasted like lingering wintergreen gum. 

Hands were still kept to themselves, both brains purely focused on the soft, slow kisses you exchanged. He nipped your lower lip, testing the waters. In response you let out a tiny sigh, which seemed to egg him on. The kisses gradually turned messy, open mouthed, hot, the importance of accuracy slipping away like sand. 

In a sick way, it was freeing. The feeling of Rhett’s stubble scratching over your skin was like a painful pleasure, eliciting a whimper that was swallowed up by his lips. Not even in the early years of you and Perry dating had you ever felt such a feral need to be with him, to feel hot all over. 

You were the first to reach for him. Half blind, fisting his cardinal red flannel, the material soft and thick in your hand while the other was splayed on the passenger seat. Rhett let out a huff of surprise. You could hear his hands move off the center console and he grabbed the lever attached to it, then clicked a crisp noise. He broke the kiss to lift it up, the object no longer in anyone’s way. 

Heavy panting filled the cab of the truck. Rhett looked slightly disheveled. Shirt wrinkled where you grabbed him, lips wet and swollen, pupils dominating his irises. The sudden loss of contact was almost too much to bear.

The truck windows were starting to fog. 

 But, like two magnets you snapped together again, simultaneously scrambling to meet in the middle. 

Everything around you melted away. The kiss, this time with a million times more intensity than your first. Teeth clacked together, both of your hands going directly to his long hair. More desire pooled in your lower stomach as you pulled on it, Rhett awarding you with a low moan as you tugged his dark locks.

He squeezed your breasts through your white turtleneck, his large hands easily kneading them even with your bra in the way. Knees knocking together, he continued kissing down to your jaw, teeth leaving nips but soothing them with his tongue. 

One of his hands shot up and grabbed your chin, forcing your head over to the side as he kissed along what was showing of your neck. 

“Oh my God-'' You hushed your voice, eyes half-lidded and looking up at the ceiling. His mouth threatened to leave hickies, but you knew he wouldn't. Still, the thought of it sparked excitement in you, Rhett marking you up and the thrill of trying to hide it from his brother. 

Your fingers were now carding through his hair, letting out a breathy whine and scratching his scalp when he nibbled at the sensitive skin under your ear. Your core was throbbing so intensely it almost hurt. 

Giving his hair one final tug, your hands trailed down to his chest. It wasn't enough, you needed more of him. Palms dragging down his chest to his abs, the feeling of them flex involuntarily gave you a confidence boost. Granting you enough courage to let one hand trail down to squeeze his thigh, the other cupping his hardening length. 

Rhett leaned his head back from your raw neck and whispered out a plethora of curses as you rubbed him through the stiff confines of his jeans, letting go of your chin. Eyes darting down, you take in a shuddering breath.  

“Can I?” You ask, looking up at him. Your thumb was toying with his buckle.

“Fuck yes.” 

With shaky fingers, you undid the giant brass belt buckle, clinking a very satisfying sound as you got it undone. You only fumbled slightly with the button on his jeans, but after that it was smooth sailing undoing his zipper, his hips bucking up as he heard the noise. He was rock hard and you had barely touched him yet, his gray boxers straining to contain him.

Normally, you avoid the size conversation when possible. You don’t even like to encourage your friends to tell you the size of the men they had one night stands with. 

Truthfully, it just depended on your skills. Even the smallest guys can make you feel good if they know how to use it. 

With that mindset, you were still shocked when you pulled his cock from his underwear. 

It wasn’t like he had the biggest dick you had ever seen (one time your roommate chased you around the house with her phone in her hand, begging you to look at the dick of some rando she met on Tinder).

You dragged your palm down his length, circling your fingers around it and testing the weight in your hand.

“You’re gonna kill-” Rhett starts but stops short. A ragged sigh is pushed from his lungs as you grip his dick harder, jerking him off with more intention. With every upstroke you can feel his cock twitch, his thighs tensing on the downstroke. 

Looking up at him sends a quiet shiver down your spine. Freckled cheeks flushed, the tiniest beads of sweat gathering on his brow. It was a sight that made you drool.

 Rhett was watching your hand, seeming almost enamored by your movements. 

“Kiss me.” Your words come out shaky and soft, barely getting Rhett’s attention. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, blinking before leaning towards your lips. 

The kisses were messy. Mouths open and tongues sliding easily against one another, neither one fighting for dominance as you continued your rhythm on his cock. 

“What time does church end?” You ask, muffled.

“Eleven forty-five.” Pause. “We still have time.” Rhett replies between kisses.

When you finally pulled away, a string of spit connected your mouths. Rhett rested his forehead on yours, his eyes still closed. It burned against yours, his lips parting and letting out ashamed whimpers. You are fascinated at the sight of his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, the veins bulging on the backs of his fists. 

“Fuck- I want you inside me. So bad.” You whisper, your lips barely brushing over his. Your hand stills, awaiting his response. 

Rhett groaned, the noise coming from deep within his chest. You didn’t even notice that he opened his eyes till he was pushing you back with a hand on your knee to the passenger seat. Watching as he lowered the console with a soft thump and with shaking hands grabbed a shiny foil packet out of the top compartment. The way it glinted between his rough fingers flipped your stomach as everything became less hazy and more real. 

“I- I am on birth control… I just-” You started, trying to explain- something? You weren't sure where you were going with this thought. 

“ ‘S alright, safer this way.” He glanced up at you through his eyelashes. 

“I’m so fucking wet.” You announce softly, your thighs squishing together, feeling your slick soaked panties spread wetness everywhere. 

A feral snarl was ripped from Rhett’s throat as you said that, the noise startling you. His hands gripped your sides, pulling you impossibly closer as he bit your bottom lip. You gasped and he pushed his tongue in, renewed with vigor to have you around him.

“Where-” You exclaimed as one of his hands gripped your upper thigh, “-do you want me?” He was now massaging your ass though the wool skirt, calloused fingers digging into your tender flesh. 

“Backseat.” He muttered into your mouth, giving your bottom lip tiny nips, “So no one can see us.” 

You nodded and pulled back reluctantly, watching Rhett tuck himself back into his boxers.  It wasn't easy to hold your excitement as you shifted back into the passenger seat eagerly so he could lower the center console. He leaned over it, grabbing his Stetson from the backseat and tossing it on top of the dash. 

If you weren't so fired up and full of lust right now, the sight of Rhett clumsily climbing over the console with his jeans unbuttoned would have made you laugh out loud. But right now you could only think of relieving the awful ache between your thighs.

Rhett’s fingers flexed on his thighs after he was satisfied with where he was, looking at you with an expectant gaze full of passion. 

Without thinking, you turned so you were facing the fogged front windshield, bracing your upper back on the seat and lifting your hips up. Shucking your skirt up and over your thighs, the cold air wrapping tightly around them. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, just simple and plain, before pulling them off. Cold hit your dripping core, pulling a noise from your throat as you shivered slightly. 

You tried to ignore the growing damp spot in the cotton as you crumpled them up before opening and shoving them into Rhett’s almost overflowing glovebox. 

You kicked off your flats, leaving them in the footwell full of melting snow before hauling yourself over the barrier. Rhett reached a hand out which you grabbed instinctively, his palm warm and a tiny bit sweaty from all the activities done so far. 

With your hand now in his, Rhett took the opportunity to pull you into his lap, almost not giving you enough time to settle your knees on either side of his thighs. It almost was too much, being this close to him. Sure, earlier you two were kissing and breathing the same air, but now it seemed… personal. Real. 

Rhett’s hands went to your lower back, his fingers slipping under your top and skimming along your skin. 

Reaching down, you fanned your skirt out around the two of you, letting it fold up near your hips and drape down Rhett’s legs. He watched your motions, palms connecting with the tops of your bare thighs and rubbing upwards, making your pussy throb intensely. 

He hadn't even come close to your dripping core and you were already incredibly desperate, letting your head drop onto his shoulder to your right, biting back broken sobs. 

You about cry when he completely bypasses your pussy, his hands busying themselves with taking off his jeans, slipping them down to his knees. Rhett’s thighs are warm against yours, flexing when you settle down on them again. His weeping cock rested against his stomach, looking painfully hard. 

The condom stretched over his thick cock and you couldn't help but gawk, hands becoming sweaty. 

“He won’t know. No one will. I promise.” He said with assurance, but even with this display of confidence, you could see right through it. See that he wanted you so badly but was wary of the consequences. His lips brushed against your ear where you still held your head against his shoulder, kissing your cheekbone. 

Something about the false sense of certainty in his voice rose your own, a warm glow of determination flooding your body. You lifted your head off his shoulder and nodded, licking at your dry lips. The corner of Rhett’s mouth twitched into a smirk, something so devilish you wanted to smack it right off his face. 

He grabbed his length with one hand and your hip with the other, urging you forward as he shifted down a bit to come right under your pussy. Spitting into your palm, you grabbed his dick, spreading the thick saliva over him in place of lube. You would have paused here if you weren't in a time crunch. The reasonable part of you would have tried to stop, tried to tell you that this was the most irresponsible thing you have done in your entire life. 

But you were in a time crunch, at least that is what you told yourself as you lowered down, whole body rejoicing as the head of his length swiped through your wet folds repeatedly. He was hot, leaving a trail of fire along your needy cunt.  

Truthfully, you had about an hour left until church was over and everyone would come streaming out of the building. 

Rhett pushed his hands under your skirt and dug his fingers into your ass, blunt nails cutting into the soft skin. The tip caught on the notch of your entrance, pulling a gasp from you. You lined him up right, sucking in a deep breath through your teeth before slowly letting it out your nose as you sank towards the base. 

Rhett bit out a string of curses as you engulfed him, jaw slack.

It made you dizzy, the stretch of his dick filling you up, your slick coating him as you went down. You paused halfway, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't long till you eased yourself around his length fully, trying to get your tense muscles to relax. Immediately, you reached down and rubbed your clit, praying that the pleasure would quickly override the uncomfortable reach. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” Rhett grunted out as you started to move once you felt you were accommodated enough. You looked up at him and let out a weak chuckle, all the moisture in your mouth evaporating. The easy glide of your pussy was making each thrust effortless, bottoming out sending stars through the base of your spine every time. 

 He was so goodamn fucking handsome, looking up at you like you were a goddess, worshiping you by kneading your ass mercilessly.

After a while, your thighs started to burn. It was an achy pain that only fed the pleasure.

Moving your fingers from your clit, you ground down on his pubic bone. The wholeness of his cock knocking breath from you, feeling like the tip was pushing against your cervix. It was sore in the best of ways. His hips bucked up slightly, chafing your engorged bundle of nerves and making you whimper at the friction. The pleasure making you dip your head to his neck and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You feel so, so good.” You blurt out against his neck, lips moving over the sweaty expanse of his skin. Unconsciously, you were still riding him, partially helped by Rhett fisting your hips and slowly thrusting upwards. Your fingers tangled with the hair at the base of his neck, tugging with each lazy upstroke that filled you to the hilt. It was practically heaven.

The heat tingled all across your back, marking you like little pinpricks of fire. After pressing a lingering kiss to his neck, you raise your head to look at him. Rhett’s head was back, laying on the head rest with his mouth parted to let out barely audible noises. 

His eyelashes were fluttering, so long and thick, it made you jealous. 

“So good, so fucking good.” You babbled, willing yourself to regain the speed you were at before slowing, breasts bouncing and hardened nipples rubbing roughly against the fabric of your nude bra. Rhett smacked your ass under the skirt, the sting making you cry out, a jolt of white hot pleasure slicing through your belly. 

“ ‘m gonna mark you up, make that pretty ass of yours so fuckin’ red-” Rhett growled, drawing back and spanking you again, the sharp sound ringing through the heavy air along with the increasingly louder wet sounds coming from where your bodies joined. 

“Rhett… oh fuck-”

His name tasted familiar on your lips. You thought it would sting like a rattlesnake bite but crying it out in pleasure washed your mouth with a tangy sweetness that mimicked the strawberry rhubarb pie that was made as a staple of spring. 

Year after year Cecilia would make it, setting a hearty slice down in front of you and her boys. Giddy, you would kick your feet while stuffing your face, washing the flaky crust down with cold milk. In this memory, Rhett sat across from you, much like dinner a few nights ago. Secretly, you shared a smile with him, watching as he grinned back, the crimson goop sticking to his teeth in odd spots. 

Perry did not like strawberry rhubarb but hated being left out, so it was something that you and Rhett shared. Even up to your teens, you'd bound down the stairs, Rhett already crowding the kitchen, giving you a smile that seemed as easy as breathing. 

A harsh nip to your throat brought you back to reality. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the humid air making all exposed skin sticky and hot.

The heavy skirt was doing nothing to muffle the sounds beneath it. Your vision was getting blurry, Rhett’s name mixed with moans tumbling from your mouth. 

Another crack rang out, followed by a taboo sob being ripped from your throat. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the composure you once held now slipping away. 

Slipping away felt like you were drowning in a sea of hot bliss, and you were doing everything not to go under. Weakly you grasped at his chest with your free hand, the other still knotted in his silky hair. 

“Does Perry know you’re this dirty? That your cunt gets so fuckin’ wet when you get spanked?” Rhett had a ferocious gleam in his eyes, nails scratching down your lower back. 

His words ignited a fire that burned just below your skin. Perry did not know, and you were positive he never would. Selfishly, you never wanted to share this discovery with him. It would be Rhett and your secret, just like a strawberry rhubarb secret. A dessert only loved between you and him, something that Perry would never understand. 

“No- fuck- no he doesnt.” Your heart was beating out of your chest, threatening to explode. The exertion was making your thighs quiver, riding him becoming less calculated and more messy as you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him. Rhett growled at your words, his nails pressing crescents into your soft skin.

Your brain had turned to mush, all thoughts leaving your pretty little head as you gazed at Rhett through a dreamy state. His eyelashes fluttered, blinking up at you. 

Somehow, you managed to gain enough strength to release his button-down, hand clumsily shucking your skirts up even more. The pads of your fingers messily draw abstract shapes to try and stimulate your abused clit, frantically trying to snap the taut rubber band inside of you. 

Rhett saw what you were doing and swatted your hand away. Before you could protest he ground the pad of his thumb into your clit, overstimulating you in the best of ways. 

Head rolling back onto your shoulders, you yelp at the force, reaching out to steady yourself on the backrest behind him. 

It was only a short minute until you were hyperventilating, dropping your head forward so your chin was to your chest.

“I’m coming, I’m coming-” You gasp meekly, “Please don't stop, dont-” Your eyes were scrunched shut, the band so close to snapping.

“Look at me, let me see your face.” Rhett pressed his thumb harder, his voice cracking on the last syllable, he was close too. You obeyed, pathetic embarrassing whines spilling out of your numb mouth as you forced your eyes open to look at him. He held your gaze, white teeth chewing on his bottom lip while his cheeks were flushed a dark red, blotches trailing down his neck. 

Unexpectedly, the band snapped and you doubled over, slouching against his chest. It was magnificent, all of your nerve endings becoming live wires as flames of pleasure licked at your body, Rhett’s name on your lips.

 It was better than you ever had before, the feeling of complete and utter bliss right down to your bones. The high left you shaking and gasping. Rhett rocked you through it, pressing kisses to your clothed shoulder. He was holding your hips still as he fucked you, the feeling of your fluttering walls getting him that much closer to his own release. 

“Where- where do you-?” He asked hoarsely, thumbs rubbing the burning skin of your hips as you came down from your high.

“Inside.” You whispered quietly, still in a heavy brain fog of lust.

That one word was all Rhett needed to have a spark ignite in his chest again, pounding into your sloppy worn out pussy with enough force it made you wrap your arms loosely around his neck, trying to hold on. You were still wet enough so his dick just eased in and out without a problem, heavy breaths and wet slapping noises filling your ears.

Rhett grunted harshly, his hips stuttering as he came, pressing your ass down to the hilt so you were filled up with every last drop. If it was even possible, you felt even more full than before. His dick twitched inside of you, filling up the condom. 

The feeling made you moan, prideful in the way he gasped and pulled you close, your name quiet on his lips like a prayer only for himself. 

Loosening his grip on your body after he was done, you yourself almost fully recovered but exhausted from your orgasm. Rhett was a vision, blissed out and quiet with his eyes closed, loose strands of hair stuck to his face. 

You didn't want to leave. For once you enjoyed closeness, letting Rhett pet your back as both of your highs wore off. But you needed to go, as much as it pained you to pull away from his body, the only thing keeping you warm from the Wyoming winter. 

-

Later, when you’re walking out to the parking lot again, this time hanging onto Perry’s arm, you scan the parking lot for Rhett’s truck. He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there, you heard him drive away after you gathered your things and left. 

Not daring to look back. 

Guilt settled deep in your stomach, tugging on your heart when you met up with Perry in the lobby you fled. His face lighting up and pulling you close to him. 

In the bathroom you had tried your best to wipe away Rhett’s scent. By the time you were done scrubbing the soft skin of your inner thighs were rubbed raw. 

See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!

[sorchathered]

LAST LINE TAG

Thank you @attapullman for tagging me (you might regret it when you see what I wrote 👀)

RULES: Share the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words you want.

“I know it sweet thing, I’ll get you there be good f’me and I’ll give you whatever you want” he said as he ran his hands over your arms and pressed his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as you made quick work of his ridiculous gaudy belt buckle. He was a little bit proud of how proficient you’d gotten at removing it if he was honest, you’d bitched about the damn thing for so long but on a particular occasion when he’d slid out of you and noticed the distinct impression of the design on the buckle etched into your thigh he’d had to keep himself from taking you again right then, it felt like he was marking you as his.

Walking you over on wobbly legs he pinned you to the front row pew, dress lifted up to your shoulder blades as he ran a hand over the flesh of your backside, reveling in the whine that spilled from you as you arched yourself into him. “You’re being mean, c’mon Rhett I need it.” You wiggled back into him again and he grabbed your hips to stop you, mischief in his eye when you turned to look at him and oh he was most certainly possessed by the devil himself, you were in for all sorts of trouble when he looked at you like that-

Tagging- @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @pinkdaisies9285 @sio-ina-bottle @delopsia @floydsmuse @sunsetsimpsblog @lenafromthenordiccoven @floydsglasses @sweetwhispersofchaos @galaxy-of-stories no pressure to participate!

[asherlockstudy]

Did something happen in Mythical this week?

Last Monday I made a quick post about how Rhett seemed to be in a foul mood. To me he looked either angry or sick and very irritable due to his sickness. He looked a little reddened and sullen in the beginning of the episode but he very slowly eased in all the way to GMMore. His aggressiveness seemed a little disproportionate to each situation, like how he responded to his advantage being Link throwing his dart, and Link took note of that. Link was also moody, although not as much or as evidently as Rhett. Rhett seemed to be somewhat snappy towards both Link and Stevie.

On Tuesday the off vibes continued. They both look somewhat irritable again but they try to force enthusiasm. They progressively get heated and excited over opening the Disney blind boxes, or they pretend to, which alleviates the situation. In the end, Link chooses to ask Rhett: "Where do you think we 'd have been without these blind boxes?". Rhett replies: "We would have quit". In the GMMore Rhett picks at Link for various minor reasons. Link doesn't respond much but it seems off putting to him.

On Wednesday they do an episode which heavily features Jordan throughout. Towards the end Link says he won't contribute to deciding which Taco Bell restaurant is the best. Rhett looks at Stevie and pointedly says "It's his new motto. 'I am not contributing'". Link immediately asserts his statement by adding: "Know when you are not needed".

On the same day's GMMore they play TikTok games. Before starting, Link starts a joke about Stevie supposedly not wanting to be there that day and Rhett adds to it. They both jokingly thank her for making the decision to show up every day. Stevie does not comment on the joke. Later, they play the fish size comparison game and they accidentally pick same sized fish twice in a row. Rhett tells Link pointedly again: "See, this is teamwork. Teamwork, bro!". Link immediately responds that he is the one doing the hard job because he is the one that has to pull an equally sized fish after Rhett has picked his own. Now Rhett however looks more eager to get in a better mood and alleviate the situation and teases Link that he will have to make him dinner if he loses in the balloon game. Link is a little torn - he remains moodier than Rhett but also is subtly amused by Rhett's teasing. Playing together improves their moods and interaction - like children!

On Thursday and Friday things look better, although they still aren't as natural as in other weeks. We can't know whether these episodes were filmed in the same or different days but it is probable that the first 2-3 were filmed in the same day and the remaining two on a different day.

On the Ear Biscuits of the same week Rhett disclosed he had some minor eye operation at some point recently. I wondered whether the reason Rhett looked irritable and sick on Monday's episode was because it was filmed soon after that operation. However, based on their interactions, it seems there must have been some argument between Rhett and Link. Link seemed a little withdrawn to himself while Rhett repeatedly complained about him not contributing or not understanding teamwork.

I imagine this must be a delicate period right now, post Wonderhole and the underwhelming viewership which neither of the two expected to this degree. If now it is a period of discussing what lies ahead for them creatively, Link perhaps suggested to give up on such projects. Link has also been increasingly seemingly underwhelmed by GMM, which might have started alarming Rhett. Link could be thinking that Wonderhole was financially damaging but also it could be that this year also proved that this type of approach does not pass the message Link has claimed they want the viewers to get, whatever that is, so perhaps Link has lost his patience with this approach, which was mostly Rhett's idea after all.

I wondered why they have not mentioned Wonderhole yet but they posted a poll on Ear Biscuits asking our opinion on it, so they will talk about it in one of the next episodes. We might get a clearer picture there.

As a side note, in this week's EB the segment about arguments in relationships was... interesting. Link said how his past arguments with Christy were ferocious (he has said this before but this time he also mentioned how Christy used to lock herself in the garage to avoid him, which is a questionable thing to share, but most likely it is not as serious as it sounded) but now they are a lot milder yet frequent. Link exposed Rhett's frequent "debates" with Jessie more than Rhett seemed willing to mention them, however Rhett on his own confirmed that he and Jessie passed through the stage of finding each other annoying after the first years of marriage. He interestingly conveyed that the reason all arguments were resolved in their case was because it was and will always be unthinkable to them that their relationship would not work out, so it simply has to be resolved sooner or later. Notice Link's face in those moments... Sometimes I wonder whether Rhett is blind or just does not care... or if my own eyes have something wrong about them. But notice him. From his side, Link... recommended a divorce to this MB too!