#but rhett’s already gone

[saltynametag]

@anniesocsandgeneralstore

"they would find each other in any universe" and I love that it doesn't necessarily mean always romantically. They can be sworn enemies in this universe but that means they still found each other.

[cerealbishh]

"We get to, this season, explore their chemistry and their real love and their intimacy. So we get to have a glimpse into that world that just feels so pure and beautiful and romantic! And then, sort of navigating those other circumstances once they're out in the world, dealing with real... challenges." - Isa in an interview with The Knockturnal(x)

[delopsia]

the kind that money can't buy (calico creek) | rhett abbott x reader

Word Count: 12,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, friends to lovers, size kink, general awkwardness due to a love confession gone wrong. Cunnilingus, creampies, multiple orgasms, hand jobs, grinding, usage of the 'snowed-in' trope, slightly implied inexperienced reader. Reader generally being overwhelmed at times. Notes are subject to be updated because I feel like I'm forgetting something... My almost-late entry for @lewmagoo's holiday celebration!

Brief Summary: Sometimes, all love needs is a botched love confession, broken bridges, a tiny cabin out on Calico Creek, and an inconceivable amount of snow. Inspired by the Stephen Wilson Jr. song, Calico Creek.

"And what's the plan if we die on this mission?" 

"There ain't one," Rhett chuckles, his eyes flickering between the bridge and the rearview mirror. Whatever he sees isn't enough, has to twist in his seat to look out the back window. "Might as well write your will and send it via carrier pigeon." 

He's gonna die with the left side of his neck, and the lower portions of his jaw smeared in cheap paint, and he doesn't even know it. Hell, there might be some in his hair now that you look at it.

You don't know how he can manage to do this. You can hardly look away from the window for more than a second, staring down at the edge of the bridge. Nothing but rushing waters and wood laid decades before you were born, no guardrail to prevent you from plummeting a hundred-something feet to your rocky, hypothermic demise. 

The turn onto this old-fashioned safety hazard is almost too tight for the trailer, one of the tires briefly hanging midair as it crawls onto the bridge. Something creaks below, low and grumpy, an ancient spirit disturbed from its eternal slumber. 

"I still think it's cracking beneath us." That sounds like wood cracking. Does he not hear it? Why is he not putting it in reverse yet? 

"Well, we don't seem to be fallin' yet." The idiot seems to have left his intelligence back at the rodeo. 

You must have forgotten yours, too, because you're the one who stupidly agreed to this whole venture, knowing full well you would have to cross this godforsaken bridge. This thing has been ready to collapse since the day you were born and has threatened to take you down the countless times you've ventured over it. But, like clockwork, the truck crawls out the other side, emerging onto safe, solid ground. 

"Oh, I forgot all about this," you don't mean to say it out loud, but it slips past your defenses, a breath that you can only hold back for so long. 

Snow-covered trees decorate the sides of the beaten gravel road, arching overhead, their baren branches seeming to kiss the silver sky itself. Icicles hang from some of them, twinkling in the light. Stunning in its own right, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Calico Creek herself, still just as wild and alive as she has always been. 

It's a wonder the Tillerson's haven't tried stealing this out from under the Abbotts, too. There's no way they haven't heard the stories about this place, and there's no way they have never wondered about where the water beneath the bridge on Warm Creek Road leads.

"The cabin is still standing?" It looks the same, too. Time itself must stop every time someone leaves this place.

"For some reason," Rhett's nails tap against the steering wheel. "Mom comes out here to pull weeds every other month in the summer."

"Still?"

"Old habits die hard."

And that...fuck, what do you say? Nothing? That was an invitation for a follow-up.

...no, maybe it wasn't. Why are you making it weird? Come on, think.What is it that you usually say when Cecelia comes up in conversation? Oh! You should ask about...no, he already said that she's spent all day cooking a roast. 

The tires slip beneath the truck. Rhett reaches for the gear shifter. His paint-mottled hand spins across the wheel, drawing the vehicle off the ice as quickly as it crawled onto it. Focused entirely on the road and nothing else.

Rodeo lights flicker through your mind. Old dirt flies through the air again, a neverending plume of dust that still makes your nose burn. Your stomach is twisting around, working itself into a knot it'll never get out of.

"Hello?" A gloved hand waves in front of your face. "Y' in there?"

"Huh?" 

The truck has long since stopped. Crudely parked in front of the cabin with no regard for how it may look to anyone else. It's been stopped for a while, too; you can already feel the cooler air creeping through the vents. How a cowboy like him can put up with a truck that only blows heat when it's moving is beyond you. You would have sold this thing years ago. 

"I was askin' if you're ready," Rhett's brow furrows, and for a moment, you're worried that he can see straight through you. "Are you sure you slept last night?" 

"Yeah." Lie. 

The corner of his mouth wobbles up and down, lips parting with the beginnings of a sentence. Then, flattening into a line. Your eyes meet. You don't know what to say. Neither does he. Your face feels hot all of a sudden. 

It's too damn quiet in this truck.

Your saving grace comes in the form of a squealing door hinge. Shrill. Screaming at the top of its lungs as Rhett shoves it open. Yeah. Okay. You'll get out, too, then.

If life were a comic, then the rush of frozen air would have steam rising from your heated cheeks. Fortunately, no such thing happens; it's just your burning skin and the vicious bite of single-digit temperatures eating away at what little moisture you have left, not satisfied until your skin has been left raw and chapped.

Snow crunches beneath your boots, soft at first but growing firm as it compacts under your weight. Every step feels just as unsteady as the last, and with each one, you're nearly certain that this time, you will find uneven ground and go tumbling head-first into this pristine, wintery hell that has encased the entire state of Wyoming. And yet, you continue to find solid footing.

"Remind me again why we're looking for a...?" Your words die in your throat, lost to the howling wind. Did he ever mention what you were looking for out here?

A moment passes. Rhett turns his head to you. Gives you a few more seconds to conjure up the words you're looking for. "Horse-drawn grain drill?" Finishing your thought. "Mom saw a post on Facebook and thinks she can turn it into decor."

You don't know what a horse-drawn grain drill is, but you've got a feeling that it's the old jumble of rusted metal that has been decaying against a cedar tree since you were in kindergarten. Somewhere behind the cabin, beyond the tree line. "Is this another one of those projects that she starts and you have to finish?"

"What makes ya guess that?" The corner of his eye crinkles with his smile; now that you've got something to compare it to, the snow doesn't seem so bright anymore.

"Well, last I checked, she was the one repainting the walls downstairs," the ground shifts beneath your foot. Sends you stumbling. "But half of your jaw is a nice shade of Beacon Gray."

"Shit." His hands rise, blindly pawing at his face with the backs of his gloved hands, digging at it the best that he can manage. "Why didn't ya tell me I had this shit all over my face?" Flecks of gray rain down like snowflakes, scattering across the front of his jacket. 

He pauses, those expectant blue eyes landing on your shivering frame. Hopeful, even. Poor thing hasn't the slightest clue that his neck is stained with the imprint of his own hand right now. 

You shake your head. "I think you're gonna have to shave to get it all off." 

His whine echoes through the empty trees. "But I just got it to the right length again!"

As if it would get to last past the weekend, you can already hear Cecelia fussing at him to shave and tidy himself up for Christmas Service. She'll probably try squeezing him into that old suit she had tailored for him after he graduated high school, too. So tiny and narrow that the fabric visibly struggles to contain those broad shoulders...

You've gotta think of something else before you start drooling and a damn icicle forms. 

"What, you don't think it adds character?" Rhett leans over, knocking his arm against yours. If he hears your heart lurch in your chest, he doesn't comment on it. 

Looking at him is the worst thing you could possibly do. He's just so close, and he's waited until this very moment to tilt his head down and ease that old cowboy hat on, the felt one with the chipped brim. Rugged, just like his four-day-old scruff and the unruly hair that curls behind his ear and hasn't been cut since spring began. 

"It adds...something," you don't know what your conclusion is supposed to mean. Fortunately, he doesn't ask any further; just rolls his eyes and keeps walking. 

Against all odds, that old bench Royal built for you is still sitting and facing the creek. The piles of snow almost entirely obscure its frame, but it's the bench nonetheless. Two wooden pallets crudely cut and nailed together, Abbott engineering at its finest. 

"Do you remember the tire swings?" You vaguely remember them, hung from trees that once occupied the space the bench now occupies. But they weren't ordinary tire swings. No, they were fashioned to look like horses, with old recycled bridles and name tags. Isabela and Flash. 

Rhett shakes his head, chuckling at a memory. "I remember jumpin' off of 'em a lot."

"And breaking your arm because you overshot and landed in the creek?" You can still hear Cecelia screaming at the top of her lungs. "No wonder why you turned out to be a bull rider. You're still chasing the high of nearly breaking your neck in Calico Creek." 

All he can do is laugh; there's no defending himself from this one. 

Fortunately for him, the conversation dies at the sight of that old hunk of metal. It still lies in the same spot it's always been, somewhat sunken into the soil and leaving behind an indent in the tree it rests against. The thing has all the right in the world to stubbornly cling to its resting place, but Rhett doesn't even seem to struggle when he pulls on it.

It's reasonably light, all things considered. 

...or maybe it just feels light because Rhett is doing most of the pulling. 

But the metal is frozen in a thin sheet of ice, and by the time you get it within distance of the trailer, it's melted and seeped into your gloves. Frozen water gnawing at your already cold fingers, eating through flesh and straight down into the bone. Solidifying in your joints for extra measure.

You've got no choice but to drag it along for no reason other than you can't let go. Trudging through the snow, audibly crunching with every step, every inch of your exposed skin burning in a frozen fire. And it must freeze your memory, too, because the next thing you remember is the rear trailer gate falling open, clattering against the ground. It creates a ramp of sorts. 

"I can pull it up from here," Rhett, ever the gentleman.

You'd love to let him take it, but...well, you're trying, but your fingers are hardly budging. Frozen in place, another piece of the machine. You don't remember when they went numb, but you can hardly feel them anymore; they may have even detached from your body entirely. But, slowly, they pry themselves open, stiff muscles fighting against your effort to pull your hand back to your chest.

Rhett tilts his head. "'s your hand frozen?" 

"My glove got soaked," pausing to blow air onto it. The heat of your breath is nice...until it fades and leaves you even more aware of the difference in temperature. "It's fine, just a little cold."

"'Cold' my ass," muttering under his breath. He reaches out, his big hand practically engulfing yours as he pulls it toward him, plucking the soaked glove off before you've even realized what he's doing. "I ain't havin' ya get frostbit."

His other hand dives into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief that's been wrapped around something. You can feel the heat radiating off of it before he's even placed it in your frozen palm. A hand warmer.

The wind nips at your frosty skin, but the handkerchief is big enough that you can wrap the fabric around your hand entirely. A thin shield to block off at least some of the cold. 

Truly, you don't think Rhett even needed you to come along in the first place because he gets the old piece of equipment onto the trailer without the slightest hint of a struggle. It's so easy that you almost catch yourself looking back to see if there's a bigger piece to haul up. Why did he ask you to help with something so simple?

And why did you agree to it?

It's something you're still wondering when you heave yourself back up into the truck, squeezing into the corner of the old cloth seat like it'll somehow save you from the burst of frigid air that races out of the vents. God, why were you wishing for snow last week? This is hell.

"How do you put up with this every winter?" You're fighting to keep your teeth from chattering, not even going to make an attempt at straightening yourself out to put the seat belt on. Curling into a ball sounds like a much better option than that; safety be damned. 

"Layers 'n a dash of self-hatred." The truck rumbles as Rhett's foot presses on the gas pedal, the beaten tires frantically searching for traction on the slick ground. They find it. Lurching forward. "I shoulda become an accountant or somethin'."

"You as an accountant?" Snickering. 

Somewhere, in the effort to almost entirely spin the truck around, Rhett finds the chance to lean over and knock his elbow against yours. "Hey, y' don't see none of them office folk freezin' for a livin', now do ya?" 

"I'd love to see you crammed in a little cubicle," you laugh, and all he can do is roll his eyes, shaking his head all the while. 

A beam of light bounces off the creek waters. You know it's merely the change in angle that caused it, but the little voice in your head quietly wonders if old Calico Creek is laughing with you. She keeps doing it, too. Light-reflecting in little sparks, bouncing off chunks of broken ice and the rushing silver water itself, following you all the way up to the bridge.

You don't remember the bridge groaning like this last time. Maybe more towards the middle, but certainly not this early. Though, even as you untwist from your huddle and peer out the window, you can't see anything crumbling. 

"Rhett?" 

"I hear it."

Still, he eases the truck forward, but you can hear the whir of the window as he rolls it down. You would do the same and stick your head out, too, if you weren't just now regaining sensation in your nose. 

It sounds like popcorn beneath you. Soft little popping noises that you can feel when you press your feet against the floorboard. 

Rhett jumps for the shifter. 

Wood snaps.

The truck dips forward.

Something roars. You're going backward. The earth spins. White and silver and brown blurs into one big mess. Metal and tires scream. Your head bounces against the back of the seat.

And everything is still.

You're facing the river. The cabin is on your right, and the bridge is...the bridge is...

"Did it...?"

"Yeah..." Rhett whispers, his eyes as equally glued to the sight as yours are. "it did." 

The bridge is gone. 

"I have good news and bad news." Rhett's voice bounces off every wall in the cabin, almost makes it hard for you to figure out which of the two rooms he's walking out of. As if you didn't watch him disappear into one the moment that his phone started ringing.

"What's the good news?" You ask, squeezing the hand warmer just a little tighter. But there's no longer any heat radiating from it, reduced to nothing but a dull, rapidly fading warmth. 

"The bad news is," it seems he's completely ignoring what you just said. "The roads are shit 'n Perry doesn't think he can plow out the upper path 'till at least tomorrow afternoon." 

And then he's gone. Vanishing back into the room he just moseyed out of. 

"The good news?" You know he can hear you, but you don't get a reply. Nothing but a load of underwhelming silence. "Rhett?" 

Something thunks against the floor. Heavy. Solid. 

"Remember that time we snuck out and went over to Idaho for that rodeo mom didn't want me goin' to?" The echo is so bad that it takes a moment to catch up to what he's just said.

A memory stirs to mind. "I remember you getting drunk and busting your lip falling out of the truck."

Rhett's head pokes around the corner, his pale nose wrinkled with what you can only identify as disgust. Maybe a hint of embarrassment. Not his favorite memory, you suppose. 

"I don't know if y' remember it, but Dad was so furious that he made me come out here 'n chop every downed tree he could find for weeks." He disappears for another moment. Then, steps back into the room, lifting a chunk of split wood into the air. "Come to find out, all of it's still here." 

"Suddenly, I'm considering forgiving you for the grilling your mom gave us after that." You can't resist your smile. For once, your teenage antics pay off, even if it was all his idea. 

"It's inappropriate for you two to be alone together like that!" Mocking in the shrillest voice he can manage as he steps over to the fireplace, bending down to load the wood inside. "Don't know why she always thought that we..." His Adam's apple bobs. Glancing at you.

You look away. 

...yeah. 

Your lower belly twists, inexplicably filling with butterflies who have blades for wings. Or maybe they're moths, eating through you like old laundry. Whatever they are, they worsen when you peek at him through the corner of your eye, the momentary flicker of a memory nearly making you nauseous.

"Do you need help?" You don't know why you're asking when you're already reaching out, ready to take the next chunk of wood from him. It'll be easier for you to put it in; you're already down here on the floor.

"No, it's—it's fine," he freezes mid-crouch. Your fingers brush against the back of his hand. "I've got it. You should..." 

Life...stops.

For a split second, you fear that your fingertips have melted and become one with him, stuck together for the rest of eternity. But the blaze of the fire burns before you can reach melting point, jerking away as if burned. Rhett looks away. You do, too. 

You're right back at the rodeo again. 

Dusty Sunday night air spirals around you. A dry earthy scent burns at your nose, disguising the already vague tinge of sweat and what you can only describe as animal that clings to him. Dirt clings to his glistening jaw, smeared all the way down his neck and the left side of his jeans. 

If you didn't know any better, you would think they replaced Rhett with that of a wild-eyed mustang, icy blues damn near about to swallow you whole. It hardly matches his stuttered whispers, so damn shy in comparison to what lurks at the surface. 

"I...I uhm..." his boot kicks at the ground, stirring up another plume of dirt. "I know ain't good at this sort of thing, but I—" His tongue hitches, lips still moving, but not a damn thing comes out. 

Broad shoulders shiver. Caving in on themselves. And he drops his head, the brim of his hat concealing everything but his mouth from view. Hiding in plain sight. This doesn't nearly match the excitement that the shiny new championship buckle in his hand should warrant, but now it's been reduced to nothing but a toy for him to fidget with. Twisting it round and round in his wavering palm. 

"Rhett...?" Hooking your finger under the very edge of his hat, lifting it until you catch sight of red cheeks and impossibly wide baby blues. A deer caught in the headlights. 

"I love you."

It's there and gone with the breeze. So swift that if not for the sight of his lips shaping around those three little words, you would think you made it up entirely. 

But it was there, still clear as day in your memory; if you try hard enough, you can almost convince yourself that you can step through time. Re-enter your starstruck body and kiss him before the sheriff can cut in and shoo you away to ask questions about another spat between his family and the Tillersons.

But time travel doesn't exist, and that confession still hangs in the air, its rusty hinges squealing every time you think you've finally forgotten about it. What do you even say now? 'Hey, I'm sorry that in the span of a few weeks, I couldn't conjure up a better way to revive the topic, but I love you too. Hope you haven't taken my silence as rejection and moved on already!' What if he didn't even mean it as a love confession? 

Rhett hasn't said anything about it.

Neither have you.

The crackle of the fire is the only thing present to fill the silence. Occasionally broken apart by the pops of Rhett's joints every time he goes to fetch another piece of wood, ancient floorboards groaning in tandem with the thump of his boots. Even his jingling spurs are a welcome sound, shrill as they might be.

Nightfall is either your greatest blessing or the biggest curse known to mankind. The darkest corners of the cabin are lost to the shadows in a matter of hours. God knows if anything is lurking in there, ready to pounce at any given moment, but with it, Rhett's solemn face disappears, too. Reduced to glistening eyes and flashes of skin in the firelight. 

"Do you remember when we used to beg your mom to let us spend the night up here?" The sound of your voice is borderline shocking. A smidge too loud for the heavy silence that covers the room like a thick winter blanket. 

Rhett's hum dissolves into a chuckle. "Guess we really should have listened when she told us to watch what we wish for." 

He peeks at you through the corner of his eye, a strand of brown hair falling out from behind his ear and into his face. You catch his gaze, locking for a lingering moment. His mouth rises into a weary smile.

"We should have wished for endless snacks and a million-dollar lottery ticket while we were at it," you can only imagine what other things you two have begged poor Cecelia for. "And maybe a spare blanket."

Rhett blinks. Staring into the fire. His eyes widen, lighting up with a realization. "I got some in the truck."

"Lottery tickets?"

"Blankets," he's trying his best to sound annoyed, but his own grin betrays him. 

Something in his knee pops as he stands up, audibly protesting, but he's already on his feet. There go those spurs again, chiming away with every step, glinting in the light, and...

"What is that?" You ask, with a tilt of your head. It doesn't help you see any better, but the effort is there. 

Rhett freezes. "Huh?"

"Come here," beckoning him closer. "You've got something on the back of your boot."

"Those are called spurs, sweetheart," but Rhett comes back to you anyway.

He...meant that as a joke. Yeah. That's what it was. 

...right?

"No, it's..." There's something silver just above the spur on his left heel, so sharp that it pierces straight through the leather. Something long and gray hangs from it. Feels like plastic. It looks like...a rubber fish?

"'s that a damn Rapala?" Rhett's voice rises in pitch. Confused. 

"I didn't know fishing lures could catch cowboys," giggling, you pinch the hook, tugging it from the hole it's created in his shoe. The thing is ancient. Its once brilliant silver scales now a muted yellow, the singular remaining hook mangled and warped into an unrecognizable mess. 

He reaches down, opening that big hand of his. The little lure practically shrinks when you place it in his palm, suddenly nothing but a minuscule hunk of plastic and metal. "I knew they were in the creek but I didn't expect them to be all the way up here, too." 

You think that you can still hear Cecelia calling out, warning you two to watch where you step and to be careful in the shallow creek waters. It's a wonder how neither of you ever got a hook in your foot. You've lost track of how many summer Sunday afternoons you've spent in Calico Creek. You don't think you even liked visiting their church; you only ever tagged along because of what came after the service ended. 

Thump_

"What was that?" You're pretty sure it came from outside, but you're not about to dismiss the potential of someone lurking in the shadows of the room. 

"Dunno," but he's about to find out, slinking toward the door like a stray cat. You don't know how he does it, but his boots are suddenly quiet. The spurs on his heels don't even sing. All holding their breath as he opens the door. 

It's snowing so hard that you can see the shape of the wind when it bursts through the gap, cloaked like a ghost in a white sheet. Swirling around the room, all too eager to eat away at the warmth of the fire. Circling closer and closer with all the ferocity of a pack of hungry wolves. A shiver races up your spine.

"Hang on."

The door slams shut, and—

"Rhett?" You squeak. Where did he...did he go outside? He must have. You only looked away for a moment, and you would have heard it if he had rushed into the backroom. 

In his place lingers, what you can only describe as a sentient winter wind, rushing through the thick fabric of your clothes as you stand and make your way to the door. It doesn't matter how long you've been huddled by the fire. By the time your hand finds the ice-cold door knob, you're shivering again. 

Snow bursts through the gap once more, splattering across your face. Clinging to your eyelashes, wiggling down through the collar of your jacket. 

"Rhett?" But the midnight air swallows your voice like a sponge. It doesn't even echo. You can't see a thing. Not the truck, not Calico Creek, not a damn thing. "Rhett!"

No such reply. It's as if he was never even here in the first place, but you can vaguely see his footprints in the snow. They don't go far. 

Or rather, you can't see them go very far out. You could be floating through space right now, and you would be none the wiser about it. It's all just...black. Even as you step through the door, your unsteady frame slammed by a bigger, angrier gust of wind.

"Rhett!" Your voice should be able to get louder than this, but no such thing happens. Maxed out. "Rhett!"

You still don't see him. What the hell did he go looking for? Shit, what if it was someone lurking outside that grabbed him? And now you've just made it known to the whole forest that you're out here by yourself! 

A shape moves in the distance. 

You jump back, snow-caked boots sliding across the floor. Your grip on the door handle is the only reason you don't fall.

It's getting closer. You think you can see two legs. Walking closer and closer, and—

"Rhett!" Your voice breaks this time.

But it's him. Shoulders coated in a dusting of snow. Hair blowing into his windburnt face. Some kind of thick fabric bundled up into his arms. Blankets, you think. The wind blows harder, and he disappears into the sea of white once again, the waves trying to suck him back into the abyss.

Snow tumbles into the front door as he steps inside. He's carried half of tonight's snowfall into the damn cabin. But you can't think about that right now.

"Blankets?" You don't know if your voice is shaking from the cold or if you're just mad. "You run out into a blizzard and scare me half to death for fucking blankets?" 

Rhett Abbott has had his soul replaced with that of a newborn deer because he looks like one caught in the headlights. Wide blue eyes staring back at you, can't possibly fathom what has got you so mad. As if he's not the one who just inexplicably ran off into the night with no regard for his own safety. 

Those snow-dusted eyelashes flutter. "You said you wanted one." Innocent as can be. 

And you...you did ask for those, but. "You could have said something before you just up and walked out." 

"Were you worried about me?" His head tilts to the side. 

"Maybe I was," muttering, you turn back to the fire. There's a chair sitting in the back corner. Wooden. Didn't look all that inviting until just now, swallowed up by one of the many shadows cast by the fire. The chilly air has collected over here, clustering into its own little storm, but you can't feel it. Not with how hot your face has gotten all of a sudden. 

The chair creaks beneath your weight. It breaking is the last thing you need right now, but fortunately, it seems to hold. You lean forward, face falling into your hands. Of course. Of course, he went to get the blankets that you asked for. And here you are yelling at him like a damsel in distress as if he wasn't born and raised in conditions worse than this. 

Something drapes across your shoulders. Fuzzy. Smells like the bonfire the Abbott's had a few weeks back, burning away the brush collected from the most recent storm. Another one wedges itself into your lap, Rhett stubbornly pushing it onto you as if you're the one covered in snow and not him. 

"What are you doing?" Peeking through the gaps in your fingers.

"Buildin' you a cocoon and hangin' ya from the ceilin'," he hums, and if you didn't know him any better, you might have thought he was dead serious. "Wanna see if you'll come out with wings like one of them butterflies."

You're putting on your best frown. 

Or at least, you think you are. You can't really feel your face. "This implies that I look like a caterpillar." 

"Hey, caterpillars are cute," says Rhett Abbott, the man who yelped when he saw a bright green caterpillar inching up his pant leg last summer."Y' remember that book we used to have where the little dude kept eatin' everything?"

"The one you took a bite out of?" Yeah, you remember that. 

"The caterpillar did that." Still just as defensive as he was when Cecelia started asking questions about what happened to the book. "Not me."

"Uhuh." Sure.

The last of the snowflakes scatter from his eyelashes, cascading down onto his bright red cheeks and melting into minuscule little droplets of water that seem to dance in the firelight. A tiny galaxy that is wiped out by a singular stroke of your thumb. 

...you're touching his face.

You don't recall when your hand left your side, but it's resting against his jaw, your thumb still damp with the evidence of your crime. He's noticed it. There's no way he hasn't noticed it, but he's not telling you to stop. And...well...you're already here. 

Properly curling your hand around his cheek is the easiest thing you've done in a lifetime, his soft scruff tickling your palm. Rhett still doesn't say anything. Hell, it's so quiet that you can hear the minuscule sound of him breathing through his nose. His lashes flutter again. Thinking about something.

He tilts his head, leaning into your touch. 

"You're frozen." You noticed that a long time ago, but if you don't break the silence, you're gonna combust.

"Yeah, that kinda..." his mouth hangs open, tongue visibly faltering for a good moment or three, "happens when...you snow."

Your giggle is so loud that it echoes, but you hardly notice it. "When you snow, huh?" 

He's running from you. 

You can't believe it. He's squirming up to his feet and turning around, his hands rising to cover his face in a fashion identical to what you did mere minutes ago. Mutters something, but it's so muffled that you can't understand a word he's said. You don't necessarily care to figure it out, either. A little bit distracted by the sound of puzzle pieces clicking into place. 

You think you get it now. 

The floorboard squeals as you stand, the sharp sound eating away every bit of the certainty that you just built up, but your momentum still carries you forward. Feet falling one after the other as if caught in a trance. 

Rhett turns to look at you, then back to the door. 

He tries to, at least. 

It happens on reflex. You grabbing ahold of his jacket collar, pulling so hard that you both stumble. He gasps. So do you. Chest to chest in this tiny old cabin, nothing but the flickering fire to guide your eyes as you drink in his face. The same old, big blue eyes you've always known. Pouty lips wobbling, torn between a lopsided smile and trying to come up with something to say. 

If this were a dream, it would be perfect. Seamlessly falling into place like trained actors.

But this is real, and you're both moving at the same time, and your noses clash at the same time your mouths do. You stumble. His arm cinches around you. Pulls you closer. Teeth clatter. It's everything that a Hallmark first-kiss scene isn't, and it's incredible. All those movies, and they still couldn't quite capture the dream of kissing your best friend in—

Best friend.

"Shit, I..." Jerking away. Eyes wide. Breath caught in your throat. "I shouldn't have..." Shouldn't have what? Kissed him without asking? 

Oh, but he's grinning at you like a damn fool. Wobbly smile and sparkling gaze, flickering back and forth between your lips and eyes. You don't feel the hand resting on the small of your back until it's pulling you back in, lips crashing once more. 

A faint twinge of mint and chocolate still lingers on his lips, the only remaining evidence for his crime of raiding his momma's jar of Christmas chocolates. Or maybe cowboys just taste like that. Rough as stone, carved and broken into jagged edges by the test of time, but sweet as can be on your lips. 

He steps forward at the same time you do, already can't stand the minuscule gap between your bodies. But your foot slips between his, and the side of his spur catches on the toe of your shoe, and you're falling. 

Your elbow slams into the wooden floor. Chin bouncing off his too-firm chest. It's a damn miracle that he's the one who fell backward. You may not have survived if your positions were reversed, solid as he is. 

"Guess I fell for you," Rhett wheezes, groaning low in his throat. 

"Idiot," giggling.

Figuring out where your legs have landed is a task of its own, your frozen joints protesting any further movement for fear of another catastrophic fall. Rhett doesn't make much of an attempt to move. Content to part his legs and let your body fit between them, knees resting against your hips. 

His palm finds your cheek, calloused fingertips stroking the soft skin there. You're melting into it before you can realize what you're doing, drowning in the sensation of how big his hand is. You think it could cover half of your face without even trying.

"'n here I thought I'd fucked this all up," his hum vibrates through his chest and right into yours; kind of feels like distant thunder. 

"I didn't know how to bring it back up after Joy left." It's easy again. Talking to him, confessing exactly what's on your mind without fear of further fracturing things. "Then you didn't say anything either, and I...figured I'd read into it the wrong way." 

His thumb finds the corner of your mouth, gently tugging it up into a squished smile. "Oops." 

You can't help but reach for him, too, your hand finding his cheek once more, just for the hell of it. In the shadows of the fire, you can see the small chunk of skin permanently missing from his nose. An old scar from a kitchen fight with Perry a while back, courtesy of Perry's wedding ring and an argument that you don't remember the context of. Something about a remark Perry made on an already tense night. 

Should you?

Rhett blinks.

Yeah, you should.

"Watcha doin'?" He asks, scrunching his nose as you lean in, pressing your lips to that little scar. 

"Something I've thought about doing ever since you barged through my front door with blood pouring down your face," pressing another to the tip of his nose. 

"Funny, I recall y' wantin' to hit me at first." 

"Because you scared the hell out of me." 

"'s that why y' tripped me just now?" There's that light tone in his voice. Taunting. "Revenge?"

"Shut up." You know where this is going.

So does he. "Make me—" 

Kissing him quiet. Another thing off your bucket list. Maybe it was on his, too, because he laughs into your mouth like he's been waiting on this his whole damn life. Hell, you know you have. 

Your skin prickles beneath your layers of clothing, burning from head to toe, and you can only peel your winter coat off so fast. Pulling away from him might be the hardest thing you've ever done, but in the time it takes you to shrug it off, Rhett has gotten his off, too. That old black undershirt hugs his frame a little bit too well; you almost stop and stare.

Almost. 

Rhett's arm loops over your shoulders as you come back to him, hand curling around your bicep, lazily hanging on. Those jackets must have been a mile-thick because you don't recall being this close last time, his chest against yours, heart beating so heavy that you can feel it. 

But you're a little bit too far down, an ache blooming in the back of your neck at the strain to reach him. You don't want to move, but now that you've noticed it, the pain is the only thing that you can think about. Gives you no real choice but to dig your knees into the hard floor and scoot up—

"Mmh—!" 

You don't remember breaking away from Rhett, but you must have because you're blinking down at him, and he's found time to clamp a hand over his mouth. Eyes the size of dinner plates. Red in the ears.

"Did I...?" Suddenly aware of where your thigh is resting right now. 

"Just a little bit," he doesn't seem to have any interest in making you move, either, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you back down once more. 

You don't know how you've survived so long without this. 

The pressure of his lips, the stubble on his jaw, the awkward bump of noses that haven't learned where to go quite yet. It's all so new, and yet you can already feel the embers of an addiction burning to life, roaring as hot as the fire, and you might need him more than you need to breathe. Heaven is a place on earth, and its name is Rhett Abbott. 

Your forearms brace themselves on either side of his head, steadying yourself before you can become inconceivably lost. And again, your thigh unintentionally presses into him, and he's groaning low in his throat, lithe hips bucking up into it. You can't help yourself this time, intentionally grinding into the growing tent in his jeans, feeling his knees flutter around you. 

"I'm sorry, I..." clarity strikes like lightning.  "I'm rushing things, aren't I?"

"Naw, I'm..." he looks off to the side. Sheepish. "Kind of into it." 

Even now, he's still Rhett. Bold one moment and shy the next, his impulses always a moment quicker than everything else. You don't need to ask if he's mortified about saying that out loud; the big dummy is already showing it. Gulping so hard that you can see the muscles in his neck flex with the effort, his cheeks three shades redder. 

You throw one of your legs over his, straddling it, the silence broken by the sound of your knee hitting the floor a little too hard. And again, he covers his mouth when your thigh grinds into him, but he fails to conceal the slight roll of his eyes. Breathing hard through his nose, impulsively twitching up into your touch.

"You're something else, cowboy," you can't help but find your way to his jaw, pressing kisses into the soft outline of bone. His legs flutter around your thigh, clinging onto it as you work it against him. The arm around your shoulders tightens; you fear you might be anchored here. 

It's on the side of his neck that you can feel the faint rumble of a moan, so quiet that it fails to make its way past his hand, but it's there. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised about it, but your daydreams never involved getting around this obstacle. There's no way you're prying his hand away, not with how he uses the same damn hand to cling onto the back of a thousand-pound bull every Sunday night. 

Your lips make their way to the space below his ear, sucking lightly at an old scar that lingers there. He jumps. Hand coming off his mouth just long enough to audibly suck in a breath, cutting off the beginnings of a whine. His back rises off the ground, grinding into you the best he can. But it's not enough. He's still chasing you like he wants more, and you still can't hear him.

You're so quick to replace your thigh with your hand that you can almost deceive yourself into believing you've done this before. Palm pressing firm against his bulge, gently massaging the heel of it into him, and he jerks again. Impulsively reaching for your wrist, head tipping back, lips parted. 

"That...you...I..." he can't talk. Words broken apart by surprisingly ragged breaths. Worked up over so fucking little. It has no right to make you clench around his thigh; desperation is a hellishly contagious virus. 

You might be drooling. 

Lazy, you fall into the space next to him, your leg splayed over his, hyper-aware of the way you've just tucked yourself under his arm and how perfectly you fit. That rodeo buckle falls open at the slightest pressure, button popping open just as eagerly. He shouldn't get anything out of the sensation of you tugging on his zipper, but his hips rise as if he can feel every bit of it. 

The moment your hand wraps around his cock, his head thunks against yours. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but the impact still makes you wince.

"Ow."

"I'm sorr—" his teeth sink into his bottom lip. Biting back a noise as your thumb blindly traces the underside of his tip. "Sorry. Shit." 

If only you could go back in time and tell yourself to do this sooner. You don't know how you can ever expect to go back from this. Lying with your head propped on the side of his chest, gingerly drawing him through the opening of his jeans, the head of his cock so wet that it glistens in the firelight, a bead of precum spilling over, barely caught by your thumb. 

Rhett's scruffy cheek presses against your forehead, blindly nuzzling into you as your hand wanders, gradually working down his length. It's such a simple motion, but his hips rise to chase you on your way back up, a stifled noise rumbling out of his chest. The tip of your index finger glides over his tip, rubbing past his slit and—

"Mmh!" Jumping like a live wire. Still muffled, but louder than last time. 

You can't help but repeat it, using your thumb to draw loose circles against his weeping tip. Those hips jump again, slipping from your grasp. But it doesn't take more than a second to get ahold of him again, a sharp little sound slipping out of him as you pick up right where you left off. Swirling around and around and around. 

"Who taught you how to..." He sucks in a breath. "Who taught..." But he can't finish that thought, trailing off into nothingness once more. 

You haven't the slightest clue where your voice has gone. Lost somewhere in your throat, stolen by the same thing that took Rhett's ability to speak. 

All of a sudden, he's moving. Rolling onto his side, blindly guiding himself with his nose until he can properly find your lips, stealing them away before you can find a way to talk. You don't know if you could have come up with words even if you wanted to. Not when he whines into your mouth like that.

Whatever you were trying to do before this is lost to the abyss. Too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips melting against yours and the tiny noises he's making to realize that you're properly stroking him now. Working up and down his cock as if you're already familiar with it, wrist lazily twisting on every upward glide.

"Shit, I'm—" His voice is raspy all of a sudden. "I..."

He doesn't finish that thought, either. Mouth hanging open with a silent moan, his hand reaching to cling to the side of your shoulder. Something to hang onto. He might crumble into a million tiny pieces if he doesn't. And he's panting into your mouth like a dog in the blistering heat; it's hardly even a kiss anymore, but neither of you is making any move to pull away. 

His breath audibly catches in his throat. Cock twitching, cumming with a whine. Painting your still-moving hand white, spreading over his length, makes this sickeningly loud squelching sound that ought to make your head swim. Fuck there's so much of it, rope after rope of white, making a damn mess that you haven't the slightest hope of cleaning up. 

"Sens—ah!" His big hand dwarfs your wrist as he grabs it. Forcing it still. 

"Too much?" 

"Too much." 

It's quiet. 

At least, it is for a moment or two. The wind squeals outside the fragile window, ripping around the edges of the cabin, frantically searching for a crack in the foundation to squeeze through, desperate to steal the heat of the fire out from under you. But the flames still dance, the wood crackling as it burns. 

The squeal of the wooden floor is your only indication that Rhett is moving, rolling over top of you in the blink of an eye. His mouth finds the side of your neck, the scruff clinging to his chin brushing against the skin there, as if the heat of his lips alone wasn't enough to make you gasp.

"I thought..." Words. Where the hell are your words? What were you even about to ask him?

"Never said I was done," his voice vibrates up your spine, rattling the thoughts swirling around your head. 

His body slips between your knees like it's something you've been doing for your entire lives. And maybe he did wind up there once a few months ago when you snatched the hat off his head and tried to flee the scene, but you don't remember it feeling quite like this. 

You don't get to linger on that thought for too long. Not when he's pepering kisses across your sensitive neck, his tongue boldly darting out to trace the outline of a vein. Heat flushes across your body. The tiny, invisible embers of a fire sparking to life, the smoke already beginning to cloud your head.

"Rhett," gasping. Now it's your turn to squeeze your legs around him, vaguely aware of how you can feel his hip bones pressing against you. Firm, nothing but muscle trained from a lifetime of ranch work, rippling under your touch. You can't help yourself, grabbing hold of a bicep with your only clean hand. 

And you can just barely catch how he pauses, peering up at you through thick lashes, like something has just occurred to him. Doesn't make any move to voice it, but his smile is enough of a hint. 

"Is this," smooching at the collar of your shirt, the flimsiest barrier that you wish wasn't there, "alright?"

On their own, your legs squeeze around him, forcing him closer. "More than alright." Because telling him that you never want him to stop might be a little too much too soon.

Big hands dip beneath your shirt, tracing with his nails as they glide up your sides. Your back arches up off the ground. Not sure if you're chasing the sensation or running away from it. The bottom of your shirt catches on his wrists, sliding up until he's pushed the fabric over your chest. 

"So fuckin' pretty," downright marveling at you, his eyes shimmering like he's just found a pot of gold. There's a whole night ahead of you, but he doesn't give himself time to linger. There's a whole lifetime of kisses to catch up on, and he's already getting started, peppering his way down your chest. 

You've waited all this time, only to have one available hand to use, forced to let go of his bicep and curl into his hair instead, fingers twirling in the loose curls that rest at his nape. Can't do both. Not without making a bigger mess out of your cum stained hand, and it might just be the worst thing that's ever happened to you. 

Because here he is. Real and warm and alive and kissing at the underside of your breast, those big blue eyes flickering up to drink in your expression, and you can't touch him how you want to. You feel like you're gonna float away. One more kiss, and you're gone. Out the window. Never to be seen or heard from again. One with the snow. 

Rhett laughs against your belly, almost sends you straight through the roof instead. "'m I takin' too long?"

"Huh?" Blinking.

"You're squintin' at me like you're mad 'bout somethin'," and now that he says that, you can feel your face begin to relax. 

"I'm not mad." Have your internal thoughts always been that obvious?

"Your little nose is scrunched up," kissing closer to the start of your sweats, poking his tongue out to lick his way down. "You're mad."

"I'm not mad," holding up your sticky palm, "I'm just frustrated that I can't use my hand." 

He was just in the process of curling his fingers beneath your waistband, but he pauses, fishing for something in his back pocket. That red handkerchief again. Passes it off to you before returning to the task at hand, but you're already one step ahead, lifting your hips until he's gotten the fabric over the swell of your ass. 

You don't realize he's stolen your underwear until the breeze hits you, thighs shyly squeezing together. Don't really know what for; it's not as if you weren't anticipating this, but now that you're in the moment...

Rhett tilts his head, looks kind of like a confused puppy sitting at your heels, those gears visibly twisting and turning in his head. His eyes widen with a thought, and before you know it, he's reaching for his own waistband, shoving them past his legs and over his ankles. 

Now you're both naked from the waist down. 

He reaches for your ankle, delicately lifting your leg until he can kiss at the inside of it. Not satisfied until he's marked every square inch of you. But your knees still remain defiantly glued together. Timid, as if you haven't thought about this more times than you'd like to admit. 

His hands dip beneath your naked thighs. Raking his nails down the sensitive skin there. And for a fleeting moment, the concept of worry has flown straight out the window, your legs falling open with a shiver. 

Fuck just the feeling of him kissing your inner thigh is enough to make you whine. A little spark of heat darting up your core is the tiniest thing, and yet it's the most overwhelming thing you've felt in your life. Because it's Rhett. It's Rhett fucking Abbott sucking a mark into your skin, right where it'll poke out from beneath your pajama shorts and tell everyone who sees it what you've been up to. 

"'s this too much?" He hums. He fucking hums. Sends you jumping.

"Yes." That's not what you wanted to say. "Maybe? No? I don't know." Your head thunks against the floor, can't give a damn about if it hurts or not.

Rhett pauses. "Want me to stop?"

"No!" Too loud. You said that way too loud. "No... I—I want you to keep going. It's just...new?" 

There go those hands again, massaging the fat of your thighs, stealing away whatever tension was lingering there. His mouth burns against them, working another mark into your skin, just in case the first one disappears too quickly. 

"You just tell me when it's too much, a'ight?" He murmurs, peering up at you, and it's all you can do to nod and utter a fragile 'yes.' 

There's a rising chance that he'll be bringing you home in a sack and spend the next week gluing you back together because you might fall apart at any given moment. Nerves alight with a newfound anxiousness. You don't know what for. This is Rhett you're talking about here. Same old cowboy that you've known for as long as you can remember. 

Lips find the thin skin where your thigh joins with the rest of your body. Jumping out of your skin is suddenly a very possible task. 

"Y've no idea how long I've been wantin' to do this." And that's the last thing you hear before his mouth is on you.

You might pass away on the spot. Off to heaven, hell, or whatever the fuck is out there. 

But all that comes of it is a hitched breath, a shudder racing through your body as his burning hot tongue licks a long strip up your cunt. Experimental. Does it again when your hips rise up off the floor; he's just started, and you're already impatiently chasing him. 

"Hang on, hang on. 'm takin' care of ya," you can hear the smile in his voice as he forces you back onto the floor. "Don't gotta chase me for it." 

It's a promise he's already making good on. 

Lazily mouthing at your clit, nothing but fleeting barely-there touches that have you squirming and biting into your fist. Oh, shit shit shit, he's twirling his tongue around it now, directly targeting that poor little bud for nothing but a few seconds.

Your whine is too damn loud for this little cabin; his folks probably heard you from ten miles up the road. But all Rhett does is curl his arms around your thighs, dragging you closer. One of your legs wind up over his shoulder, and you don't know when you started reaching down, but you're pawing at his forehead. Helpless as he prods his tongue at your entrance, pushing inside if only to feel you clench around him for a moment or two.

"Rhett," you don't know what you're babbling about. Didn't know you were talking until your ears catch the familiar tone of your own voice.

The bastard fucking hums, vibrating up your lower belly and through your spine, and again you're jumping. But you're not getting anywhere. Not with those arms around your thighs, holding you perfectly still as his tongue glides up through your folds, drawing a little figure eight around your clit. 

His lips wrap around it again, gently sucking on it as he flicks the tip of his tongue over it and—

"Too much!" Your hands are in his hair. Yanking him away. "Too much."

You don't know what the hell you'll do with the sight of Rhett's chin glistening in the light, thin lips stretched around a big ol' grin as he climbs back up your body. 

"Cute thing," he chuckles; you pretend you don't feel how wet his mouth is when he kisses your cheek.

He's already hard again. Cock so heavy that it can't even stand, resting against a pale, freckled thigh. It's so damn close to where you want him. Can only imagine what it would be like to feel him push into you for the first time, but there's an item critically missing here. 

Rhett's nose bumps against yours. "Y' look mad again."

"Because I just realized that we don't have lube," you grumble. 

...or maybe you do because he's on the move all of a sudden. Grabbing the pant leg of his discarded jeans and dragging them over, rustling through the pockets until he finds what he's looking for. 

Lube packets.

"Were you planning on this, or do you just keep lube on you at all times?" You can't help but ask, can't really believe what you're looking at right now.

"Believe it or not, I use it when that fuckin' barn door gets jammed," he pauses, tearing at the corner of a packet with his teeth, "but I'd rather it be you than a rusty hinge."

Eyeroll. "How romantic."

Even his oversized hand isn't enough to make his cock look any less intimidating; you thought it would dwarf in comparison, but it's almost as if the complete opposite has happened. Daunting, even as he strokes a generous amount of lube over himself. The voice in your head suggests that you might have bitten off more than you can chew, but there's only one way to find out for sure.

The calloused tip of his middle finger glides between your folds. Has you jumping a little bit. A slight pressure blooms, slowly pushing into you, his gaze fixated on the sight. It certainly feels bigger than it looked, if that is even remotely possible, blindly feeling around for a particular little spot.

The asshole knows he's found it before you even do. Pushing a second, dripping finger into you, deliberately crooking them to rub up into it. Heat sparks between your thighs. Pretty sure that's just the lube, but you're convinced that you can feel yourself getting wetter, already hopelessly desperate. 

"Rhett," mewling in a tone so unlike you that it's almost insulting. 

"What?" Tilting his head.

You didn't really think that far. Aren't particularly sure of what it is you want or why you're saying his name, but your arms lift themselves into the air, hands opening and closing in a vague grabbing motion. You still don't know what you initially wanted, but you sure would like to have him closer.

And he gives it to you. 

Carefully settles into your waiting arms without a fuss, his lips wrangled up into another one of those wild grins that you can never seem to get enough of. A strand of hair falls out from behind his ear, just long enough for the ends of it to tickle your cheek, drawing a giggle out of you. And for reasons unbeknownst to you, he giggles, too. 

His length rudely bumps against your thigh, demanding attention from both of you. Damn thing is so heavy that he has no choice but to reach down and guide himself, dragging the fat tip through your folds just for the hell of it. A slight pressure appears at your entrance. Then, disappears. Slipping upward and gliding past your clit instead. 

But then the pressure appears again, and this time he's not intentionally screwing up to mess with you. Air jams in your throat. 

"Gonna have to relax for me, sweetheart," he whispers; there's that pet name again. God, you might legally change your name to sweetheart just so he'll call you that every day for the rest of your life. Something in your lower belly unwinds. "There y' go." 

The fat tip slips into you without any further warning, simultaneously puts a shiver in your bones, and steals away the little bit of clarity that you had left. You don't even know what you're shaking for. The fire is still crackling next to you, albeit dimmer than it was before. The room is far from cold, but you can't seem to keep still, quivering like an autumn leaf in the breeze.

Rhett appears like a fucking daydream. Cradling your face in his hands, a sudden presence that you've somehow managed to forget about, murmuring something against your lips that sounds like your name. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. You don't care to find out, too eager to steal him away in a kiss instead. 

Your arms wind around his shoulders, nails biting into the muscle that you find there, clinging to him for dear life as his cock gradually pushes into you. Inch after devastating inch, your chest progressively becoming tighter and tighter, as if you're running out of space to give. 

This can't be right. There's no way that you're really doing this. Lying here in the deserted cabin out on Calico Creek, nothing but a fire and Rhett's burning body to keep you warm, thighs squeezing his sharp hips as he sinks into you. It's a scene plucked right out of your own wild imagination. You should be waking up right now. Alone, in bed, like you have every other time this has happened.

But the scruffy chin that your hand has found its way to feels so real. The kiss breaks. Rhett leans back just far enough for you to catch sight of that stupid old grin, and holy shit, you've got Rhett fucking Abbott's cock in you right now. 

"Just a little more," he's murmuring so nonchalantly, and you really, truly, have no idea if that 'little more' is gonna fit or not. 

It either fits, or you pass away in the process of trying. The jury is still out for that one. One way or another, though, he's bottoming out, body flush with yours, not a centimeter left to take, and you think you've stopped breathing. Rhett has, too, for that matter. Completely and utterly quiet as he leans back, lashes fluttering at what he finds. 

"'m almost too big for your poor little pussy, shit." He's not staring; he's marveling at you.  "You're sure I ain't hurtin' ya?" The pad of his thumb traces where you're stretched around him, hopelessly bound together with no hope of ever untangling from each other.

Experimental, his hips roll, drawing a little noise past your lips. It's so much. So, so much. Helplessly curling your legs around his waist, heels digging into the swell of his ass, as if that can possibly save you. 

Rhett's not doing much better. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, timidly drawing back by an inch before pushing back in just as slowly as he did the first time. His labored breath burns through your skin, grumbling something incoherent below his breath. But he's doing it again, and now, now...

"Fuck, Rhett,"  whimpering, clinging to his shoulders. 

The fire could go out at this very moment, and you would never feel even a wisp of the cold, not with how he's already finding a lazy rhythm. Hardly pulling out, rocking your body beneath him. His weight is the only thing keeping you from scooting up the floor, little puffs of air knocked out of you with every thrust. 

He's got it just as bad as you do. Panting into your mouth like a dog, the softest noises resting in the back of his mouth. Still sensitive from already cumming once. 

All of a sudden, he draws back, and for a fleeting moment, you're horrified that he's already pulling out of you. But he's pushing back into you a little quicker now and, and, and...

"'s that feel good?" He's grunting, already peeling back to do that again. The length of his cock grazes against a familiar bundle of nerves. Stars sparkle behind your vision.

"Uhuh," all that you can come up with.

Now that he's found it, he's not letting up. Moving a little quicker now. A wet little noise punctuating the snap of his hips, your poor pussy helplessly fluttering around him, so fucking full of him that it almost aches. Writhing beneath him, torn between wriggling away from the sensation and pushing into it, as if you have any choice when you're pinned beneath him like this.

"Can feel ya clenchin' round my cock, sweetheart," he's grinning as he says it, cocky in the worst way imaginable. 

Your face is so hot that you're gonna catch on fire. "Please quit talking."

To his credit, he does exactly as you ask, but that does nothing to wipe the stupid fucking grin off his face. You can't escape it. Not when he's leaning back onto his haunches, just far enough to gaze down at where his thick cock disappears into you, and suddenly you can see it. Such a wide fucking stretch that you feel bite-sized beneath him.

The weeping head of his cock strikes those little nerves. Knocks a cry right out of you. And it's the worst possible thing you could have done because he's doing it again. Tilting his hips, working just a little quicker now, drilling into that same fucking spot. 

"'s that the spot?" He coos, breathless, his hands finding your hips, dragging you into. Every. Single. Thrust. "Fuck, I don't know how I even fit in ya."

You don't even know how to talk anymore, never mind put up with his senseless mutterings. Voice caught in your throat, your cries completely and utterly silent. Blindly pawing at his forearms. Squeezing. Clawing. You manage to get ahold of one, dragging it up to your chest like you're trying to hug the damn thing. 

"Rhett," your voice wavers, "Rhett, I want—" Closer. You want him closer. But all you can manage to do is pull on his arm.

Those pretty eyes widen. The next thing you know, he's coming back to you. Using his only forearm to brace his weight beside your head, his chest snug against yours once again. You only let go of his arm in exchange for his shoulders, practically pulling him into a hug. 

Rhett nuzzles his nose into the side of your cheek, his hot breath tickling your ear. "Don't want me too far away?"

"No," grumbling. 

You've got just enough leverage to crane your neck up, mouthing at the sweaty underside of his neck. You're not trying to leave marks. Not when you know that you'll have no choice but to face his family after this; it's only a matter of time before Perry puts two and two together, but you can't help yourself. Lips finding a space just beneath his ear, mindlessly sucking on the skin there, uncaring of what evidence you leave behind.

Rhett whines. Loud in your ear, sends your lower belly twisting with something inexplicably warm, pussy clamping down around him, drawing a second sound out of him. His arms shiver. Fighting to keep his weight up. Hardly has the strength to pull away from your mouth, his hips stuttering.

"Look how well you're takin' me," he's peeled back just far enough for you to get a glimpse, mouth hanging open, can't seem to shut himself up.

"It's mortifying." 

"It's hot." 

You'd argue. You want to argue, but fuck, you can't. Not when he's got you pinned to the floor like this, fat cock bullying into your poor pussy, panting into each other's mouths like it's the only thing you're good for. A lewd smack of skin on skin defiling every innocent memory you've ever had here. 

There's a familiar coil in your lower belly, your cunt clenching down around him, legs locking around him. Your vision blurs. Chest tight. "I'm..." 

"Yeah," he's agreeing before you've even finished your thought. 

It's the mistake of looking down that does you in. The obscene sight of his wet cock disappearing into you, those strong hips stuttering as you clench around him again, punctuated by that stupid breathy moan that falls off his tongue. 

Your back arches off the floor, burying your face into the crook of his neck as it hits you. Heart hammering against your chest. Ears ringing. Cumming around his cock with nothing but a choked wail. Helplessly clinging to him, squeezing him so tight that your arms ache from it.

The fire might as well jump out and engulf you in flames; everything is burning. Distantly aware of how your legs have begun to tremble again, locked so tight around him that you can feel him try and fail to pull away from you. Babbling something about how you need to let him go, one of his hands pawing at your thigh. Pushing, trying his best to peel you away.

But it's too late. His hips are seizing up, and your eyes are opening to the sound of his strangled whine, collapsing back into you. The muscles in his back twitch beneath your fingertips as his orgasm washes over him, cock spasming so hard that you can almost convince yourself that you feel his cum flooding you.

Oh.

Oh shit, he's cumming in you. 

You should be more worried about it than you actually are, lazily letting your legs unwind from around him, uncaring about the kind of problems that this is going to cause in a few minutes. Worry is beyond you, on a completely different plane of existence. The only thing your mind has the ability to comprehend is the warmth of Rhett's face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, a final shiver racing up his spine before he becomes dead weight on top of you.

"You..." he tries, breathless. "Was that...too much?"

You don't even know where your voice has gone, wordlessly laughing into his shoulder. "It was perfect," is what you try to say, but your poor tongue can hardly shape around the letters, nothing but a senseless warble leaving you instead. And maybe Rhett's got the same condition because whatever he says next makes no sense, either.

It takes a minute for him to roll off of you, and when he does, you wind up rolling with him, your naked back facing the fire. You don't really mean to, just mindlessly following, can't look away from him for more than a second. The fire isn't nearly as bright as it was when all of this first started, but certainly not any cooler. Heat licking up your sensitive back. Pleasant at first, but the longer it goes on...

"This fire is hot on my ass," your sentence makes sense this time. 

His hand drifts down onto your ass cheek. Your eyes roll. Rhett's face lights up with a giggle, lips twisting up into a smile that you need to kiss off of him. Even if you can't really lift your head, noses crashing, kisses reduced to fleeting pecks. 

"If I woulda known this was gonna happen, I promise I would've brought somethin' to clean you up with," he murmurs, reaching to brush something off of your jaw. You don't want to know what it is.

"If I had known this was going to happen," your momentum is interrupted by a yawn, "we wouldn't have made it out of my bedroom." 

He winks at you. "We can still make that happen."

"Oh my god." Eyeroll. You're gonna walk home. 

Or, you would if he didn't curl an arm around your waist and pull you into him like a teddy bear that he's suddenly decided he wants to snuggle. And you just fit into the space below his chin so perfectly that you can't possibly bring yourself to move. 

The wind wails outside, and the fire desperately needs tending to, but neither of you are moving. If anything, you're making it worse, tangling your legs together, wedging an arm around his torso, and for a moment, you can convince yourself that you can stay like this forever. Wrapped up in your favorite person, out here on Calico Creek, never to be seen or heard from again. Lost to the magic of winter. 

Your stomach growls. 

So does his.

Laughter spins through the air. 

Maybe forever out on this creek would only work if you had electricity and a snack. But you don't mind losing out on forever, so long as Rhett's with you. Just like he always has been, snowstorm or not. 

[multiplicationdivision]

Beach Body

——————————————————————————

The beach was a perfection like nothing the town of Rusty Coast had seen in the last recorded memory. Gone today were the rocky waves lapping amidst thick fog and heavy crashing of the winter fishing season. The air from miles out was still and comfortably warm from the coming summer, a fact that would’ve made it feel lonely if not for the steady rhythmic pound of waves accompanied by the rise and fall of cackling gulls and the occasional sneeze of a seal somewhere in the distance. Somehow in this cove the frigid pacific water was warm, the curls of seafoam lapping up the beach onto their feet before sinking back in with the countless bubbles of hidden sand crabs.

Rhett could already feel himself baking in this sun, although that was no indication of the sun today. Being a Irish man in California was just a fact of burning sometimes, not that getting pink in just a couple of minutes was ever fun. Worse when your company seemed to only relax in this secluded place’s warmth, his two housemates relaxed as they moved set up their towels and awkwardly drag their single board onto the sand.

Evan was the darkest one out of all of them, although a few quarters of non-stop accounting classes certainly pulled as much color out of him as possible. Same with Oliver, who’d once discovered this beach ages ago when he’d had the time to surf.

Now they were a house graduated, each of their degrees piled on their kitchen table and only the evidence of the work it took to get them being the scrawniness of their muscles and the near complete translucence of Rhett himself. It had felt like years before physical activity was even an idea in their heads, but it was felt now.

“You struggling Oliver?” Rhett called out to the guy clearly coming apart at the task of pulling the massive surfboard across the rocky tidepools. Even the crabs seemed slightly worried for the guy, having the mind to leave a large berth for his flailing. It was odd to imagine Oliver used to surf on that board nearly everyday and Rhett and Evan couldn’t help thinking that it was slightly pathetic. It was paired with their affection at the “please ignore me” look on the guy’s sweaty face, although sharing a bed with the guy would likely ensure it.

“Fucking idiot” Evan sighed in the direction of the ever-stubborn Oliver, as he sat down, shrugging off his shirt and kicking off the converse that had already gotten heavy with sand. His body wasn’t much to look at these days to a passerby, but Rhett was a long-practiced connoisseur in enjoying what others were too shallow to appreciate. He let himself lean back into the guy, against the familiar warmth of the guy’s chest and the slight unpleasantness of the man’s chronically cold hands.

Evan was ever his particular brand of affectionate as he whined in displeasure “Dude your damn Nikes are getting sand on my towel”, his tone already betraying that he was saying it more for himself than Rhett. Rhett wasn’t in the habit of undressing himself these days and teasing Evan was as fun as it always was, although the idea of exposing more of himself to the sun than necessary was an equal component. Instead, he just grabbed a handful of sand and released it onto Evan’s head, watching the man sputter in annoyance.

“Evan, I think you have some sand on your face” Oliver said casually at the amusingly enraged man and the self-satisfied smirk of Rhett. The surfboard sat just a couple feet from the tidepools, Oliver having stealthily abandoned the task to the small company of crabs now crowding his old board. They guy was soaked with sweat and probably a tumble in the same tidepool, judging by the sandy mud on his shorts and a lost sandal.

Not that he would need the cheap cloth sandal being carried off by a crab in the distance.

They weren’t a foolish group having come here expecting to surf as they were. Hell they weren’t even dressed for it, Rhett in his jean shorts and the others in old basketball shorts. Not that they’d be dressed in much soon anyways, judging by the impatience tenting Oliver’s shorts, matching Evan’s own defiantly pressing against Rhett’s hand even as Evan tried unsuccessfully to douse Rhett in sand himself.

“Weathers so perfect boys that we could just spend today without any of that extra business” Rhett said jokingly, although he didn’t stop Evan from hooking his thumb under his shirt and wrestling it off of him just like they had so many nights this week.

Oliver enjoyed the sight and stretched, slipping his own athletic shirt off with a groan. His own little play on Evan’s weak mind judging by Evan seeming to slip at the distraction at the sight.

They’d gotten so far from the awkward pairing of roommates they’d been at the start of their college careers. Evan a supposed straight guy, Rhett a closeted bisexual and Oliver a nervous gay man. They’d been roomed together in a dorm their first year, some fluke leaving them three guys with a single bed. A month of two of them sleeping on the bed and then Oliver and Rhett had begun to share on their nights. A month after that and somehow Evan found himself tangled in their little pile, his sleeping bag rolled up into the corner.

Class was just too much to not have good sleep to stave off the exhaustion. That had been a good excuse before administration caught up to the fluke and got them a new bunk. At the time they hadn’t even really discussed it before the bunk was just another shelf, full of papers and junk.

Evan was no longer a self-described straight man, although one has to abandon the title when they start feeling FOMO after catching their bedmates sucking each other’s dicks after a cancelled class. Especially so after the six or seven-hundreth time of giving and receiving the act himself.

So they’d stuck together through all of college’s trials and tribulations. Found themselves a big enough flat with a single bedroom, each of them feeling some sense of their internalized homophobia act up even in the apathetic face of a apartment manager who couldn’t give a shit about what three college kids got up to in their spare time. Their separate closets seemed to merge after some time, initially just with the excuse of all the wasted space. Not that Rhett ever really cared about their collective image as platonic housemates, but it had taken the other two sometime to stop fixating on whose hoodie was who’s. You gloss over the lube visible under the bed enough times to your basketball friends and suddenly it seems like a wasted effort to care if your mixed up the underwear. Hell, they were even close enough in sizes that they could just wear whatever, although Oliver had become the defacto buyer. He’d bought every bit of clothing that now was now in a growing sandy pile beside him.

A anxious glance by Evan to their surroundings and the three’s jean shorts and black pair of boxers were tossed into that pile, leaving Rhett a self-satisfied hard naked man, the pair of Oliver’s Nike blazers he’d been wearing scattered around them.

“Completely private beach Evan” Oliver comforted, slipping his own shorts off and having no boxers to remove, the man never bothering to wear any when it was just them. A particularly unfortunate habit when he was packing so much, his oversized cock having been a particular distraction when they’d gotten Chipotle on the way. It wasn’t big enough to escape his shorts, but it had been enough for eyes to keep glancing the way of the thing’s attempted to escape the torn up synthetic fabric.

“Sorry I’m not an exhibitionist like you fucking perverts” Evan said as he awkwardly tried to sightlessly pull off his own shorts, struggling to do so under the weight of Rhett and the overwhelming draw of Oliver’s cock, now standing like a flag pole. It was especially ironic of a statement given he’d been the one to suggest this entire thing. What they were doing could’ve been done in the privacy of their own home, could’ve been done with no risk of someone witnessing it.

They’d done it like that so many time before, letting the process be done with closed blinds and locked doors.

Oliver had looked so empty as he’d looked at his surfboard this past three months though and Rhett had been especially pissy so many times in public when Evan had brushed off contact. Oliver couldn’t care less with how Evan acted beyond their bedroom but Rhett was right. Doing what they were doing on a private beach wasn’t much of a advancement in Evan’s fight against toxic masculinity, but the effort was enough to bring Rhett’s frustration back into his shit-eating grin that always marked him when he was at his happiest and horniest. Certainly helped get Oliver back into fighting order as well, the guy clearly very turned on himself, but more so looking at the surfboard more often than not, eyes glazed over with what was definitely the three’s evening after this.

Truth be told, Evan was a fucking pervert himself, so as much as he wanted to make his boys happy, he was also kind of turned on by the being out in the open on the beach thing. Rhett could see through him just like always, nudging him to look at his own sizable cock before giving it a single stroke before happily watching the static reach Evan’s brain.

“Our guy’s got his mind already so far in the gutter huh” the ginger man said at Oliver with a exasperated expression. Oliver just laughed, as if his shorts didn’t lay beside him wet with pre-cum.

“Getting ahead of ourselves isn’t he” Oliver said, bending down over them, cock nearing the positoon where it could easily slid into either Rhett or Evan if he wanted to. Both would be very receptive to the idea.

That wasn’t what was happening though.

“Just fucking get on with it Oliver.” Evan snapped, fighting every urge he had to wrestle the two others into the ground and fuck them himself, lest he physically explode. “Do you have the trunks or not”

Oliver’s practiced seductive face cracked before he rolled his eyes, accompanied by Rhett’s vocal disappointment at not continuing to mentally screw with the man he still held down under his own weight. Oliver was always the reasonable one of the three, but not enough to ever stop joining Rhett’s campaign at teasing their partner

“Fine, fine, yeah” Oliver said as he got back up, wandering over to the pile of clothes to fish into his short’s pockets. “You better have prepared them right”, he said, pulling out the fabric within them as Evan almost re-activated his mini rage at the idea of having not done their preparations right.

Four years in the running and he’d gotten fucking good at the spell.

The fabric wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of trunks, blue and white and much larger than their size 34 waists. A pair of swim trunks made for a man triple their size. The only hint of something peculiar about them being the mess of symbols stitched into the waistband.

The first year it had been a messy affair, borne of an accident with a strange grouping of strange people and acquisition of a relic of a necklace, with symbols embossed into its chain. The second year and a bad experience had been one they’d recreated when curiosity overtook locking that necklace in a lead box in their kitchen. The third year and Evan had a ge course of old witchcraft to get him through the process of amateurly experimenting with the situation, trial and error leaving him something like an expert in the only supernatural thing they’d ever witnessed. Year four and each of them had studied those symbols long and hard, seen every way their group shifted and changed the outcome.

Back at home a small collection of boxer briefs had the symbols stitched into it. It had taken an embarrassingly long time for them to figure out sizing up them to avoid going through a pair every time, but practice makes perfect. They’d had a while to figure out what fit them best after their little rituals, evident by the backpack in the jeep full of an outfit that would most definitely fit them when the day was done.

Evan looked at the never worn swim trunks shed a cloud of sand before watching Oliver ball up the fabric and throw it at the two, Rhett lazily catching it. The Irish man lifted the waistband up, making a show of inspecting the symbology before Evan snatched it from his loose grip.

Just a swipe of the runes by it creator and the stitching began to heat, a shine of blue tracing the threads. It left a pressure to the air, particles of blue lifting off as energy subtly wafted from the spell.

Evan could tell when Rhett was excited by the way he stopped a limp mass weighing him down. There was something in the energy that was intoxicating to the guy, although he’d always been proven to be susceptible to the sway of the supernatural. The guy had been the one who’d almost been snatched by the strange folk they’d stolen the necklace from, almost making Evan speculate if there was something magic too loved about the guy. The symbols were something reminiscent of Gaelic, so maybe this was all down to fairies.

Or maybe it was just because Rhett never hid how much he loved this shit. It bled into each of them as they could almost feel his movements echo into their own. Rhett’s hand coming up to held hold the trunks and move them past their feet, helping focus Evan’s motion as every touch of the symbols on their skin felt like pure twistings of nervous system madness, feeling their cells open up with every reprogramming of the runes into their bodies.

Oliver watched with rapt interest, hand on his cock as he watched the points at which the two’s feet stuck together, the skin already latching on and binding the feet into the same motions. Evan’s heel sinking into Rhett’s, the two tones of skin initially meeting like oil and water before blending into a gradient. Evan’s melanin leaking into the joining points and travelling outwards in all directions.

They managed to remember to move the trunks up further, even as the feeling of nerves joining brought their brains to jelly. They’d done this ritual so many times, yet Rhett’s skull still swum as he felt 20 toes move instead of his typical 10. It was worse when he could feel the sensation of sinking twice over, feeling the feet begin to sinking further into their counterpart. It was impossible to describe, the paradoxical feeling of one’s body in itself.

The runes dragged against their legs and they were magnetized between the two men. Calves gluing to each other as their feet further merged, the feeling of their feet feeling the insides of their counterparts like they were a skinsuit ready to be filled. The toes aligning, yet not having enough space to fit within each other and instead forcing the mass to expand outwards with no where else to go.

It left a pair of men joined at a pair of large feet, their calves merging as their tibias converged, muscles physically joining and building upon each other.

Oliver found himself unconsciously stroking his dick, only coming to from his studying of the way the legs converged by the look of Evan, having forgone the effort of continuing pulling up the trunks longside Rhett, the two having failed to will past the need of their body to release the pressure building up. The magic’s effects clashed with neurons, inevitably ending in the body concluding a massive pent up amount of arousal, always leading to the brain to forget the task at hand and begin furiously attempting to cum in anyway possible.

Not that cumming could help when the magic’s effects on cells made a refractory period non-existent. It was an effect that continue on post transformation, a reason they could never really do school work alongside maintaining the spell.

The two failed in their willpower and gave way to attempting to the impossible, Rhett hungrily grabbing his cock and pumping it as Evan failed to reach his own with Rhett on top of him, yet still connecting through his fading brainpower that a suitable hole was perfectly aligned with his cock.

Before the two could get two carried away, Oliver leaned over them and grabbed the trunks with a tight grip before pulling them up, feeling the runic power hot on his skin.

It was too much too soon for his boys, but that was always inescapable. The very fact that it had to be done is what left Oliver enjoy it so much, seeing the symbols leave after images of energy as they slid up. Watching Evan and Rhett’s eyes roll back as their thighs and waist burrowed together.

It was one thing to feel one’s leg hair scratch against the nerves of another’s skin, but it was mind melting to feel a cock sink far further than it should’ve into the body. Just one thrust and Evan’s cock sunk like it was moving through wet clay, dragging against Rhett’s entire prostate in a long torturous moment. It was headed for Rhett’s cock, destined to fill the thing in a way that its nerves wouldn’t be able to define.

Oliver watched the two be unable to fully commit to the motion before he knew it was his right to join, just when the two felt they’d reached the climax, Evan’s cock still not aligned to shove into Rhett’s. Oliver would help, but his route was going to be selfish.

It was often easier to fit their cocks together by size, like a matryoshka doll. Evan’s cock into Rhett’s bigger one, Rhett’s into Oliver’s monster. Well fitting sleeves, nestled within each other.

Fuck if that wasn’t boring though.

Oliver lifted up his transcending partners abdomens enough to shove his his feet under them through the waist band that was already tight around their conjoined waist. He’d always had the best strength of mind out of the three, but even he bulked underneath the weight of the runes nuclear energy deciding that it would be easier if his legs just slide directly into his partner’s, like he was sliding into a particularly awkward pair of pants. He steadied himself by tightly gripping Evan’s shoulders as he pushed himself in, feeling hugged from all sides as the mass of the conjoined body pressed in from all sides.

He powered through, feeling his feet finally squeeze past the ankles and wriggling his toes into their proper position just as the bones of his partners invaded and fused into his body, dissolving his flesh into its own and reconnecting his brain to the feeling of the combined mass, warm sunlight on legs that were now a perfect blend of their skin tones, Oliver’s ankle tattoo bloom up into the skin as if it had always belonged there.

When his waist finally locked into place he could feel his cock slide against Evan’s, the sensation bringing enough clarity to the guy’s mind to begin to object to what was going to surely burn out his mind. It was an entirely to simple of a motion for Oliver to twist his barely merged waist to slot into Evan’s cock before pressing into Rhett’s, holding up as he strained his neck over the two as he listened to them moan, almost in complete unison.

Rhett’s cock and Evan’s beneath it stretched as Oliver shoved his massive cock into them, forcing their skin to expand to his length, feeling his testicles join Evans before fusing with Rhett’s, leaving a sensation of overstuffing before an almost blue ball sensation of the balls combining took over.

One of them cursed and then the puzzle pieces connected, nerves finally aligning as Oliver and Evan’s cocks dissolved and then reformed Rhett’s cock into a combination of the three, a olive erection framed by dark auburn pubes. It was long enough for both Rhett and Evan to immediately take to it, their brains finally having a outlet for their raging desires as Oliver continued to fight falling into the hormones filling them all. 3 times of the testosterone pulsing upwards alongside the multiplicatively nerve dense cock sending waves of euphoria up them.

Rhett and Evan gave a final pump of their cock before their right hands stuck together, palms fusing to leave a many fingered hand that was soon pouring in a tide of semen that seemed to endlessly flow, most assuredly ruining their towel.

With no where else for the symbols to touch, the energy would always pour up into the body, allowing a respite in the overpowering sensation.

Rhett could feel his mind come back to him as he lifted up his fused right hand to his face, watching the cum drip off as his number of fingers decreased as the copies fused together. He could feel Evan help him control it, both of their brains moving it together. They’d been a chaotic tumble of limbs the first time this had happened, the necklace having been tried on by Rhett one fateful day leaving Oliver to discover the chaos made up of the Irish man and Evan.

They were pretty sure that necklace had been intended as a curse, but now they fused harmoniously, the nerves entangling and their brains having gotten used to moving as a group. It let them do such impressive things as move their legs together halfway through the ritual, or wipe off their massive hand of an absurd amount of cum.

The energy amassed in their cores and they let themselves press into each other, Rhett and Evan sinking into Evan’s chest. They could feel their ribs slot into each other and the spines line up before slowly fusing like they were being zipped up. Their hearts layered upon each other, not bothering to fuse as they settled into always pumping away impossibly from within each other. It would be the final evidence of them being separate people, feeling the slight asynchrony of the three’s hearts on each other.

Evan and Rhett lifted up their combined hand to feel it pump as their body reshuffled, the heads coming to comfortably line up instead of being lined up back to front.

“God I never want this to end” Evan choked out through their fusing lungs, feeling the quick pump of their separate hearts against each other. It left their cock harder than ever, already rearing to go, but Oliver was able to stop his endlessly horny partners with a simple slipping of his hand into their large shared arm. It was simply a glove and so much easier than the legs, feeling the knuckles crush together and the joints melt together. It was awfully trippy feeling his much smaller left hand in comparison to the much larger right, the sheer difference in muscular power astronomical.

They always ended up practically superhuman and it was only so long before that feeling of pure power was enough for them to forgo separation altogether. Oliver hoped today was the day that happened, with all their obligation and responsibilities behind them.

He wrapped his left arm around Rhett and Evans and before long they were a single indistinct mass, bundles of arms beneath a singular skin that fluidly aligned, the muscle and bone weaving together into a suitable match for the right. Both arms melding further until the shoulders finally completed merging, leaving the three with the unified need to stretch, feeling the back crack as tension released up the spines.

They were now one three headed body sitting on the sand as the waves crashed in the back. They hadn’t even needed the stimulation to let loose into the swim trunks, another massive volume of cum dripping out. Rhett gasped for them all before they stilled, heads beside one another with Evan in the center, Rhett taking the left and Oliver on the right.

They’d stayed at this stage before, letting the magic settle down before removing the fabric containing the symbols. It was a quite enjoyable thing, to be so fucking massive yet still completely themselves. Half of the reason why they could work so perfectly to stand up and stretch as they were now was built on winter and spring break experimenting with every way they could be multi-headed. They’d alternate who was in what position, testing which person had dominance over the limbs (the answer being random every time). Now Evan seemed to be the lead as he reached into their trunks to provoke yet another burst of cum that would leave all three dizzy, half falling over back onto the sand.

“We’ve gotta go further” Rhett said, holding onto the ball of energy in their chest. It was a reminder more so than a demand, all three having wanted for this final step for a year of class.

It wasn’t a privilege when they were still pretending to be three separate people. When they explained themselves as a throuple to hosts of acquaintances, the words ringing false every time.

They found themselves in sophomore year in each other. Experimentation had led to a point so far that to come back had felt laughable at the time. How they’d separated that first completion had been a miracle and every division felt worse and worse with every repetition. They couldn’t do a thing like this during their school years because there was always a risk they couldn’t differentiate back into three people enough to return. It got harder every time.

Even now they felt the absences in their minds. Memories they recalled remembering but that had returned to the rightful skull upon separation. Rhett’s forced enrollment in baseball as a teenager that only was looked on with fondness by how Evan’s and Oliver’s neurons fawned over how adorable he’d been. His own guilt towards never being enough for his distant father flung to the dark recesses of his brain as the memories of Oliver and Evan’s sweet upbringings gave him a childhood he could enjoy. Oliver’s endless tainting anxiety banished by the ever-present encompassing of others into his most private closed off spaces, handing off old traumas to be soothed by brain tissue that wasn’t trained to fixate on it all. Instead, Evan’s self-confidence overlaid it alongside what felt like the man’s overpowering appreciation for all things Rhett and Oliver, enjoying every tiny quirk and flawed complication to the two, which wouldn’t disappear but be revealed as a treasured peculiarity that had never actually been as awful as they’d thought. Evan himself could feel the shame he’d always kept dull under Rhett and Oliver’s life and then suddenly they’d be complete. Free.

It was hard to pretend to be anything but incomplete after that, so when their massive hands began crush their heads together, none of them could tell who was ordering it.

One would expect the sound of melons cracking or gore. Something about the head just made one expect it to burst, especially now when the pressure built but didn’t seem to relieve. But then the ball of energy moved up their spines and the runes flared.

Any physical sensation was overpowered the moment their brains connected. The feeling of their spines and necks pushing into each other or the sensation of their heads forcing together, rendering their jaws inoperational and their breathing stilted.

Evan felt like he was a river between two oceans, but that wasn’t right. A river flows from one to another, yet lives flowed between him and into him. He remembered so much.

He remembered painting, months upon months of painting. Sketching and ripping and sculpting as every form of his artistic expression fell upon the idea of a third. Life drawings of men and woman all left purposefully without, sections of their body removed with the only evidence in the silhouettes of the heads, faces, arms, fingers and feet they once had. Abstract art his professors had complimented him for time and time again, although he failed to communicate that they were still incomplete. He simply didn’t have the parts of him who were so good at detailing those missing pieces at the moment.

The information tilted into the man with red hair and he felt his emotions come back to him. He hadn’t felt this way in a year, every bit of feeling back where it belonged. He knew he should’ve always felt this way and that when he hadn’t he’d been numb. Not depressed, but not all there. The part of him that hadn’t been the red-haired man at the time was left with too much feeling, overcoming him in every way. Had that part been the angry and desperate part he thought he’d been? It was a ridiculous thought now that he remembered how it was ridiculous. He remembered having felt so much and having loved himself for that exact reason. He remembered missing the clarity of feeling that way and he was relieved that he could feel it again.

Oliver was the last to remember that he wasn’t Oliver any more. Was white light the thousand of hues contained within its wavelength or was it in the end its own energy. The answer is that there was never any actual color, it was an illusion. Oliver had been Oliver up until he remembered that Oliver was an illusion. A vague identity formed up by interests, hopes and dreams that had always hoped to be shared. To connect and to be validated in every way. Laid out and dissected on a platter for the ways that its purposes were true. To form even grander arguments to the validity of its existence and being based on a mountain of new evidence. The man that was Oliver understood.

He wasn’t Oliver, nor Evan, nor Rhett. They were him, but the opposite wasn’t true. They were pieces of this man the moment they first come together and to be anything close to independent people after that was an act. It was feeling like he did now that was why he could only be himself when he had the long time it took to tear himself into pieces.

His face swam and he knew the hue it would return to, the dark auburn he could see looking down at his pubes. He could feel the roughness of his facial hair, back to having the potential of being thick as evident by the stubble across his face. He’d let it grow out one summer, now remembering how handsome he’d felt as the memories condensed. It was another reason he couldn’t imagine doing this again, feeling his life as himself scatter amongst his pieces. The three would remember bits and parts of a better existence, but the information was too divided to ever be enough.

He stroked his cock under his swim trunks and remembered just why he wasn’t overcome with masturbation all this time, all his willpower now firmly in place. It would feel better anyways with other partners now that he couldn’t possibly feel jealous of himself with other people. That was simply a ridiculous concept he realized for the 3rd time again.

He felt normal which was always a trip because his components thought he felt strong. In actuality they were just so frail that to be him felt like being a god. Being whole was a hell of a drug, but he certainly looked like a fair bit like a god now. Muscles back to a fairly sufficient degree, although he’d certainly need to work on them again. Growing incredibly scrawny in three bodies could only contribute so much muscle to the whole again, but he’d always been quick at gaining muscle.

The surf was loud and his surfboard was floating in a tidepool a bit away, the oncoming tide causing it to rock back and forth. He remembered being so pitifully cute struggling with it watching from third person and his hearts pumped in asynchrony, the only argument against him having always been just himself. The contradiction felt good oddly enough and he felt turned on by the thought of himself. It was pretty offputting being a narcissist in such a way, but jacking off in a mirror was a activity he had done too much to care about. He had a great excuse for studying his body for all the ways he was handsome and maybe he talked to himself far too much, but how couldn’t he. He’d been formed by a love for himself and who was he to deny himself that.

He flexed, feeling his body move like it should, all ducks in a row. The runes against his skin settled and just a little motion on the purposefully loose knot holding the embroidery together was enough to tighten it the symbols into meaningless nothings. His hands came back sticky of course, but it wasn’t anything the surf could fix.

The waves were perfect for a man like him, the perfect height and the perfect rhythm. They fell in gigantic spiral that he would paint later now that he could remember just how mathematically the angles combined and the paint could set. Now he would grab his surfboard easily underhand and dive into the waves, remembering just how much the feeling was incredible. He stay here till the sun set before likely airdrying (considering he’d completely ruined the towels), towing his surfboard to his jeep and pulling out the backpack full of clothes that he’d worn last summer. He’d go home and meet the eyes of the still apathetic apartment manager who’d grown used to seeing him replace the three boys she was equally apathetic to.

He'd never been able to be permanently himself and there was a league of challenges to get there. For one, a new closet fitting the style his components had grown for him over the past year. For two, a solution to combining the legal and emotional connections of three men together, although he was smart enough to probably achieve it all with magic. He’d worried about it when he hadn’t had all the pieces to know it was probably pretty simple.

He would enjoy his day here and go home to sleep back in the same singular bed. He’d wake up the next day and he’d continue waking up the next day forever as himself. It was how he was supposed to be.

Just Everett

[vicsnook]

Backseat Lovin’ | Bob Floyd x Reader

word count: 1544

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI 18+, Drinking

notes: Hi y’all! I’ve been back on my Bob quick lately after seeing the promo for lessons of chemistry so here’s a little something something 😏. Hope y’all enjoy & don’t forget to like/reblog. Got some Rhett fics coming soon btw!

Bob was sitting in the sand reading a book while the squad played a game of dogfight football when you spot him. His brows furrowed as he read, making you chuckle which made him look at you and give you a small wave before returning to his book. You blushed at having been caught staring but waved back. For months you’ve been dropping hints that you like Bob but he seemed oblivious to it. Penny called you back in from your break so you snuck one more glance at the clueless WSO and headed back in.

The A/C did little to cool the heat as you washed off some glasses at the bar. Thankfully you’d worn a tank top today but were not enjoying the extra attention that came with that. “What can I get ya?” you asked Bob, who had just taken a seat in front of you.

“I’ll take a beer.”

Since you met Bob, he always ordered a lemonade and despite the insistence of Hangman and Rooster, he’d never drank alcohol. You set down the now dry glass and look up at him, arching an eyebrow in question. He gave you a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders in response. You could feel him eyeing you as you reached for the bottle opener.

6 beers later Bob’s half-smile was replaced by a mischievous grin. He went to ask you for another beer but was cut short by Hangman whose hand he noticed lingered way longer than it needed to when you handed him a drink. As he stood up to go to the restroom, the alcohol rushed to his head, making him stumble and nearly trip over a stool.

“Hey Bob, you alright?” You ask him, watching as he waves you off and continues to stumble until he finally makes it to the restroom. “I wonder what’s gotten into him.” You murmur to Hangman who was still looking in the direction Bob went.

Hangman turned back to you, giving you one of his know it all looks and his million dollar smile that you hated before saying, “He’s just trying to work up the courage to ask you out, y/n.” You stood there stunned, as Hangman chuckled and walked away. Maybe all the hints you’d dropped finally would pay off tonight.

Half an hour later, you noticed Bob still wasn’t back from the restroom so you flagged down Penny and went on your break to check on Bob. Knocking on the men’s bathroom door, no sound came from the other side, so you turn the knob and it was luckily unlocked.

“Bob?”

He was sitting on the floor leaning against a stall nearly passed out. When shaking him, he looks up at you and reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” the tip of his ears turn pink at the admission as you help him up to his feet. “Why didn’t you?”

“Too chicken.” He drank the glasses of water you passed him throughout the rest of the night without complaint, sobering up slowly. If you learned one thing about him tonight was that he was a lightweight.

Everyone was almost gone by now except the dagger squad who were still playing pool. You finished wiping all the tables down and turned around to put up chairs when you noticed Bob was already halfway through doing so. He smiled at you when you caught his eye and continued until it was all done.

“I’ll stay guys, gotta walk Y/N to her car,” Bob told the group after you’d cash them out. It wasn't the first time he stayed behind to walk you to your car but today you were more nervous than usual as he followed you out and watched you lock the back door.

Your words caught in your throat as you turned around to find Bob right in front of you. His eyes looked down to your lips and before you could say anything his lips were latching onto yours. He kisses you softly at first but then it turns desperate and you have to hold onto him to not lose your balance. He pulls you closer to him as you run your fingers through his hair and a moan escapes your lips as you feel his growing bulge against your thigh.

You manage to slide your hand between your bodies, cupping him through his pants. That action alone has him pushing you against the back door and dipping his head to kiss your neck. “Follow me to the truck,” he whispers in your ear.

His truck was parked on the side of the Hard Deck which was not illuminated and was the perfect private spot since it couldn’t be seen from the road. You take his hand and climb into the back seat closing the door behind you. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you respond by straddling his lap.

His hands grip your ass as you grind against him. “I need to hear you say it honey.” He whispers, kissing your jaw softly. “Yes,” you respond, tilting your head as he trails kisses down your neck and you’re almost certain you’ve soaked through your shorts as he continues to rub against your clit with his bulge.

He slides his hands under your shirt and kneads your breasts and you want him even more now. “Bob I want you,” you manage to say and he’s kissing you rougher now, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away to lift you off his lap so you can slide off your shorts.

He sets you back down on his clothed bulge and rocks you back and forth even harder than before. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ear as you match his pace and feel yourself getting closer. Your grip on his hair tightens and he presses you down against him even more. But it’s when kisses than one spot of your neck though that you are pushed over the edge.

He holds you close as you ride out your orgasm and is careful setting you onto the seat beside him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. You blush at the soaked spot in the front. His cock springs free and you feel a shiver go down your spine at the sight of it. You’d heard the rumors that he was well endowed but didn’t know until know how much truth that held.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on then reached out to help you position yourself over him. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you slowly slid on to it, moaning at the feeling of it stretching you open. His breathing was heavy as he tried not to buck up into you.

You set a slow pace, moving up and down as he holds on to your hips and his lips catch yours. The tip of his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and you throw your head back in pleasure. He wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you sharply. Your nails dig into his back and you try to keep up with his pace but as you feel your high coming, you increase the pace.

Your moans fill the car and he feels you clench around him. He kisses along neck and collarbones, anything he can get his lips on as you move faster. “I’m so close,” you wail as he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Cum for me baby,” he commands, circling your clit faster as you ride him erratically. Your legs start to shake as you reach your high and he continues thrusting into you through your orgasm. You pulse around his cock and he reaches his high too, pulling you closer to his chest as he comes.

Both of you are out panting, as he slowly pulls you off him and you settle in the seat beside him. He takes off the condom and carefully pulls his pants back up, running outside quickly to dispose of it. He gets a pack of wipes from the front console once he’s back and cleans you up, kissing the side of your thigh as he slides your underwear and shorts back on. You smile lazily at him and take his outstretched hand, your legs wobbling when they hit the asphalt.

He pulls you close to him and gives you a soft kiss and he knows at that moment that he wants this not once but for the rest of his life. You lay your head on his chest and smile, hoping this leads to more. “Can I drive you home? I can bring you tomorrow to get your car,” he asks and you nod happily.

As you reach your house, you’ve made up your mind so when he walks you to the door, you pull him inside your house with you. He follows with no hesitation and kicks off his jeans, joining you to cuddle in bed. “Can I take you out tomorrow?” he mumbles sleepily, kissing the top of your head. “Absolutely.” You reply, drifting off to sleep happily in the arms of Bob Floyd.

[0mg-bird]

rhett defending you at a bar! i just know that man is the most delicious kind of protective and jealous

Omg, the picture that just popped into my mind of this!

Warning: Violence, language, and being grabbed without consent.

Protective~ Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader

By some nervous tactic, Rhett always has his hand somewhere on you as you enter the bar. You don’t mind it, it’s become very normal for your fingers to be trapped between his.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you wait at the bar for your drinks.

“Mae should be here with her date soon.” You say, pressing the beer bottle to your lips.

Rhett nods, then hooks his boot around the leg of your stool and slides you closer. “Another new guy, huh?” He teases.

“Well, she just hasn’t had much luck.” You say, defending your friend.

The music playing was good, you nod along to it as the others finally join you. Mae greets you with a grin, hugging you, then Rhett.

“This is Jared.” She introduces her date.

He shakes Rhett’s hand, then kisses your cheek in greeting.

Immediately, you feel Rhett tense. He stares at Jared with a blank expression. While they order two beers, you catch your boyfriend’s eye.

“He’s just being nice.” You say, squeezing his knee.

Rhett doesn’t care about niceties. Letting out a breath, he just smiles at you, trying to ease your worry. “C’mon, we’ll get a table.” He says, avoiding the thought he has of telling this Jared guy to screw off.

His warm hand stays on your thigh as you sit and chat with your friend. When Jared tries to make small talk with him, he’s just enough polite so you don’t tell him to stop being rude.

Mae’s eyes light up. “I love this song.” She says, pulling Jared along with her to the area people are two-stepping.

“Come on, grumpy.” You tell Rhett, pulling him off his seat.

Though he’d like to protest that he wasn’t grumpy, he shuts up the moment you you lay your hand on the back of his neck. Hand joined with his, you lean against him as he takes the lead.

“What’s gonna make you have a better attitude?” You ask, sweeping around the saw dust floor.

Rhett looks at the man holding Mae, but gazing at you. “I’ll be just fine when dick head over there stops looking at you like you’re getting naked.” He huffs.

You look behind you, but Jared’s stare is already gone. “Would you settle for a kiss?” You ask, looking back up at him.

Rhett smirks, then leans down to softly meet your lips. You sigh deeply, enjoying the feeling. When he pulls back, he’s forgotten all about the fact that he’s supposed to be acting tough.

He revels in your laughter, staring only at you as the two of you dance. Though, when he spins you out, he doesn’t expect Jared to cut in and steal you away. You lightly gasp with surprise, looking at Jared who smiles innocently.

"Very smooth move." You say awkwardly, lightly laughing as you try to look around him to make eye contact with Rhett.

He has Mae, but the angry look in his eye makes her take a step back. She' just as confused.

You shake, it feels wrong to have his hands hold you the way Rhett's were once doing. "Just had to get one dance with you before the night was over." He says, caressing your back.

You squirm and try to tug away. "That's sweet of you, Jared, but uh, I think you should get back to Mae."

His grip tightens. "I think I'm good right here."

You feel the way he feels you up and down, not letting you pull away.

"Get off of me." You huff, trying to twist out of his hold.

Just as you're about to scream, you're broken up by Rhett's hand forcefully shoving the guy back. You scramble back, gently being tugged to stand behind Rhett.

"I think it's time for you to go." He states sternly to Jared, fists curled.

Jared raises his hands in defense like he doesn't see the problem, and laughs. "Okay, cowboy, no need to get hot headed now."

In an instant, Rhett has his hands gripped around the collar of his shirt, people around you are watching with wide eyes.

"You need to leave before I make sure you don't walk out of here, you son of a bitch." He grunts, teeth gritted. "You think you could fucking touch her like that and it would be okay?" He shouts.

"Rhett." You call, wrapping your arms around yourself.

But he isn't satisfied with the way Jared stays in silence. He shakes him before shoving him back against the table. He wanted to get so unbelievably violent, but he looks back at the way Mae has a comforting hand on your shoulder and wants to decide on just leaving with you and never see this idiot again.

"She seemed easy."

Those words from Jared's mouth is what quickly changes Rhett's mind.

He has to be pulled off of him, you cry softly while he gets his punches in. When he's pushed back, wiping his bloody knuckles on his jeans, he comes straight for you. Tucking you under his arm, he grabs up both of your jackets off the chairs they laid and pulls you outside. Still fuming, his jaw ticks back and forth, he heads straight to where his truck is parked.

"Hey, come here." He pulls you to stand in front of the passenger side door, hands smoothing down your arms.

"I'm okay." You breathe.

His brows furrow, he tilts your chin up to look at you better. "I know you are. I love you."

You sigh with a relief. "I love you too. I don't know what happened, I thought he was just trying to be funny at first and then he kept grabbing me and..."

Rhett pulls you into his chest, kissing your head. "He's an asshole who thought he could get away with it, that all he is. I could've fucking killed him- I should've." He rambles, making you squeeze him tighter.

"You did enough." You say, pulling back. "Can you take me home?"

Rhett nods, smoothing your hair. "Yeah, 'course."

The ride back to your place, you gently run your fingers over the back of his hand, looking at his bruising knuckles. At a stop light, you kiss him, needing to show him the admiration you feel for him.

"I'm gonna always protect you." He says when you mention it. "Bloody hands don't matter, defending you does."

[asherlockstudy]

Some thoughts on the 40 years friendship anniversary Ear Biscuit

Regarding the moment when Rhett makes some fun at the shippers who ship them for moments such as the look they shared when they were kissing their girlfriends... I will say that by saying "As we have proven, we do not mind feeding into your theories", that's a double edged sword. Technically it is neither negation nor confirmation of anything - it is observation of something that can't be overlooked anymore like what they are doing with Wonderhole, while however refusing to take it seriously. It reminds me one of the last ambiguous jokes Rhett had cracked against the shippers, like a year ago or so, when he had said "PERHAPS YOU ARE RIGHT, OKAY" I don't remember it exactly, he had claimed the shipping conviction was so overwhelming that he was almost getting confused what the truth was and perhaps "we were right". Pity he doesn't clarify whether he means only the intentional scripted content or candid stuff that has at times slipped out of his control, like that eye contact. As an oldie, I remember how he has been always telling that story and it was that he opened his eyes to see that Link was already staring at him. He felt uncomfortable so he turned to the other side. He consistently finds it hilarious for years whereas Link always defends himself apologetically and shyly by saying "he was trying to check with Rhett if he was doing it right". So it wasn't exactly the "momentary glance of mutual hetero approval" they went for this time. But, if Rhett really finds it that hilarious, then it might as well have been an accidental eye contact and it taking large dimensions with the shippers may seem particularly amusing to him. However, it is him who brings it back again and again over the years, apparently the momentary glance has left such an impression (of amusement).

Rhett totally deflects when Link claims he had scolded him for how intimate he was getting with his girlfriends.

Marriage bathtub rum episode mentioned again

Link about the first days in college: "For me, going off to college, together, moving into that dorm room, I just remember the feeling of the first week and that we had each other at a point where we were completely on our own. And I remember being scared shitless in a lot of ways after that first week. It's like, wow, this is a different level of freedom. I feel like the net's gone, but we had each other and we had an identity to everyone else of having each other. "

It was sort of bittersweet to see that Link, who comes off as a pretty intense person, seems to have maintained a subdued attitude throughout most of his friendship with Rhett. Based on the things he said, this was sort of a survival mechanism to ensure he would remain Rhett's friend at all costs. He admitted that he wasn't all that crazy about the ministry and he was sort of following along, motivated by the consoling thought that since Rhett was taking him along, then that meant he was appreciating him for his skills, his abilties, his talent and who he was. Same thing with their career actually, Link basically admitted that he is not invested to the degree Rhett is (Rhett lowkey looked like he was given a small slap there) but it's about sticking to this promise of making it work out together. Even one of the first times Rhett confessed he considered giving up on the church during the great roadtrip across America and even though Link had been on a parallel similar journey, Link did not voice his own spiritual concerns and doubts but instead remained a silent "shoulder" for Rhett to “cry on” because he reasoned (maybe it felt safer this way) that surely Rhett was going through a phase and he would return to his traditional, religious self. And if Link was quick to abandon faith too and then Rhett regretted it then they would grew apart. But he was also fearing that if he remained religious and Rhett adhered to his choice to leave the church then they would also grow distant. So he chose to do all the listening, waiting for Rhett to take the final decision. (And then of course we know Link reached his limit with the plexi-glass kiss and suddently decided to turn their world upside down but this is not for this post ok). However, this just shows again and again how almost everything in Link's world revolves around Rhett, it's incredible how dedicated he is in his love for him. Link is a stunning guy, he was a good student, he could have done anything and be with anyone but he made this choice to devote himself to that guy completely and just went with it. It's just amazing. If we take into account what Link had said in his deconstruction, he had always had way more doubts, since an early age, but he was determined to act as pious as Rhett, if not more and even remain pious when Rhett was having his doubts out of his fierce persistence that this was ultimately the way to be accepted by Rhett.

Thank goodness they gave us a rough timeline of Link's "breakup" mail to Rhett and Rhett's delayed apology, because based on the dynamics we were observing in their content we could have been able to tell by ourselves! If the email was sent around the GMM 22 format or a little prior to it, it is not a surprise at all. This was the time a lot of the fans, even shippers, were speculating that something seemed off between them, that they weren’t real friends anymore, that they always seemed angry at each other. It was around that time that Link was being vocal about how Rhett didn’t open up about his emotions to him and at the time Rhett indeed looked very uncomfortable with it.

Let me tell you though, they were not telling the entire story. There was another thing that was happening at the time and they mentioned it once or twice in the Ear Biscuits of that period but then I don't remember if they ever mentioned it again. Along with the insane amount of work they were involved with at the time that would have made just about anyone neglect their personal relationships, it was around that time or a little earlier that they imposed rules on their friendship. They had said in EBs that their work and their friendship was taking up too much space from their families and other aspects of their lives so they freaking came up with rules to regulate their friendship. The examples they mentioned to explain this were VERY interesting: it was forbidden to communicate during vacation and if they both went to NC to their parents during the holidays they should not meet up. Even more insanely specifically, if they happened to cross ways in a supermarket aisle for example, the rule was to not acknowledge each other and just look the other way!!!!!!!!!!!! They also had rules for physical touches, Link characteristically said: "If you helped me with my belt, alarms went immediately off in my mind. Oh, why are you helping me put my belt? You don't usually help me put my belt!". Really, is it my fault to say that none of this shit is indicative of a platonic friendship? They never talked about it again. Perhaps they understood they shared too much. A few months or about a year after this was happening and shortly after the crazy work schedule, they made an EB announcing that they were now doing the exact opposite, meaning they would actively try to find more quality time for their friendship outside work. Now, we can tell that this choice was made probably after Link had sent the email to Rhett because clearly those rules he had initially agreed upon were tormenting him. My point is, their friendship wasn't threatened only as a natural consequence of their hectic work schedule but by their choices too.

I am sorry if I am the broken record but this is compatible with this recurring theme in the One Story, where Link is in trouble, Rhett saves him only to fall in trouble even harder. In the Digging a Hole video, Rhett says how he thought "Link was losing control in his enjoyment of the hole digging" that he had to step up. Rhett started this as a controlled, secret situationship and when Link started getting way too immersed in it, Rhett shat himself, fearing Link was risking their careers, their families, everything they had built. So they came up with rules and filled their time with work, work, work to control what was happening between them. Link tried but in the process he felt that besides everything they were trying to control, they were also losing their foundations, their original pure friendship. So, for such a passionate friend (or a man insanely in love, if you will) to feel that he and his lifelong best friend had turned into strangers, into working robots to strip all the emotions from their relationship, he thought "you know, if we are not even gonna be friends like we always were, I don't want any of this at all". Once again, I am amazed at the genuiness of his sentiment. He has fame, he has a lot of money, we know he is frugal and yet he was willing to give it all up, to start from scratch, to reinvent himself on his own, in order to not suffer through a possible slow alienation with Rhett. (I mean he still was ready to be swayed by Rhett with the bare minimum though lol)

To Rhett's credit, like they said, even if he's not one for words, he was at his door the next day like "what was that shit about alienation you're talking about?!". History has shown after all that no matter how bad he is with words, how emotionally constipated, how work obsessed, how supportive of the idea to keep this a secret situationship, how fearful their relationship will likely destroy their careers and a lot of their bonds with other people, how vulnerable to people's opinions, so far time tells he is choosing Link over everything else, even at the prospect of disaster. And channeling all this anxiety and concern but also the choice he has made to his art has become his new passion, because this is how his mind works, this is how he expresses himself, his feelings, his love.

Rhett reread the email during the quarantine which also makes total sense! We have all discussed Rhett's notorious neediness at the time of the pandemic. I like to say he was climbing the walls at the time because he really did. Even in their zoom GMMs, he was protesting to Link because they were not meeting, he was like "I am healthy, you are healthy, LET'S MEET I BEG YOU I AM LOSING MY MIND PLEASE". This was an average GMM and EB at the time, remember? I believe this sudden unexpected distance was what really sealed the deal for Rhett, he thought things over and over. It's true, he did take Link for granted because Link was always by his side, he never missed him. But this time, Link had devoted himself to Christy who was coping very badly with the Coronavirus panic and he wasn't meeting with him, he had become aloof and Rhett was getting increasingly emotionally and physically frustrated and at this point he probably understood what it feels to not have Link for granted or what it felt for Link to feel emotionally neglected in their relationship.

Link was a little... happy when Rhett admitted their relationships to girls were shallow. He's laughing nervously for almost 20 seconds.. but it is adorable. I love this laugh of his, the heheHEheHEheheHEHEhehe, reminds me of the "I hit you in the funny bone" moment in GMM :)))

I did not intend this to get that long...

[dilemmaontwolegs]

danny ... finding out the boy in the picture ... is the v card thief !!!! Kicking my feet and giggling !!

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {7}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff, soft!danny WC: 2.5K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Fic Playlist: Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett

The colour behind your eyelids dimmed and you opened them wondering where the cloud had come from in the endless blue sky. You immediately sat up and looked around for Danny when you found the cloud in your day was actually Andrew towering over your sun lounger.

“Uh, hi,” you said as he smiled and leaned in to try to hug you. “Woah, what are you doing?”

“We haven’t seen each other in like five years.” His arms were still open expecting to embrace you.

“Exactly.” You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body after seeing his eyes roam the skin that was visible.

“Hey baby, is this guy bothering you?” Daniel arrived at your back, his hands cold on your shoulders from going to the lakeside cafe and getting some iced drinks. “Wait, I recognise you - you’re the perv from the picture.”

“What?” Andrew chuckled in confusion.

“You were checking her out at the bar last night.” Daniel opened his phone and shook his head as he saw the picture again, confirming it as he turned it around. “Seriously?”

Andrew laughed and looked at you with a smirk. “I thought it was you but I couldn’t see your face. That ass though, I’d recognise it anywhere.”

“Danny!” you gasped as you leapt to your feet, turning and planting your hands on his chest at the first sign of movement. “There’s a crowd, you know what Christian said.”

“You think I care, kitten?”

“I think he isn’t worth it.” You looked over your shoulder to see an incensing remark about to be sent Daniel’s way. “Andrew, please leave.”

“Andrew huh?” Daniel echoed before his arms curled around your waist and he stared him down from where he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“She told you about me?” he asked with a cocky grin.

You sighed at the stand off you found yourself in the midst of and narrowed your eyes at Andrew hoping he would get the message to piss off but he wasn’t looking at you and seemed content to ruin your day. More and more cameras were coming out as the tension seemed to ripple across the surface of the lake. 

“Did she tell you I was her first?” he taunted with a smirk. 

“So? I’ll be her last,” Daniel laughed as his hand splayed low across your abdomen, his fingertips dancing across the top of your swimsuit bottoms and drawing Andrew’s eyes down to the movement. “That’s all that matters.”

“Drew, move it along,” your father stated as he arrived, soaking wet from leaving the lake to intervene when he noticed the three of you. 

“It’s public property, sir.” Daniel snorted at the switch in character while your dad found his phone with his belongings next to yours, already starting to dial a number. “Who are you calling?”

“Your father.” Andrew was gone before he could hit ‘call’ and he tossed it back on the sun lounger with a shake of his head. “That boy never knew when to walk away.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“It’s not a family reunion without some drama, last time it was Nessa and that boy - what’s his name? - I lose count,” he said with a roll of his eyes before pointing a finger at Daniel’s hand. “I know you’re marrying her, but she’s still my daughter, hands above the waist, son.”

His palms had warmed on your skin and they quickly shifted up to your ribs with a stiff nod. “Yes, sir.”

With your father heading back to the water, Daniel couldn’t resist whispering in your ear, “Imagine if he knew all the bad things I had done to his little girl.”

“I don’t think they are bad things,” you whispered back. “I think they are very, very good.”

“That’s because you are a filthy little minx, my kitten.”

You turned in his arms that remained firmly above your hips and bit your lip as you thought of all the filthy things you wanted him to do. “Wanna head back early?”

His smile turned to a chuckle and his head tilted slightly. “To an empty house? It would be very quiet.”

“Not for long, I’m sure you can change that.”

His hands started to drift to your ass and he swallowed as he watched your tongue wet your lips. “Just how will I do that?”

“I could tell you, or...I could show you.”

“Any other ex-boyfriends I should know about, kitten?” Daniel asked on the drive home from the airport.

“Nope, funnily enough I wasn’t all that interested in dating and men before I met you.”

His eyes to you, quickly reading the honesty on your face before returning to the road. “Then how did Douche-Bag-Drew get a shot?”

You shrugged at the question and tucked your leg up on the seat to rest your chin on your knee as you watched the city come into view. “Naivety, YA books, I don’t know. I thought it was an experience you were meant to have before going off to college or uni. It wasn’t because I was ready or in love. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, it was horrible.”

He reached across the seat and took your hand, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows pinched together in confusion at the apology. “Why?”

“Because you deserved better,” he said softly as he laced his fingers with yours and drove with one hand on the wheel. “I would have laid you down on a bed of rose petals and kissed every inch of your body. I would have made you comfortable and ready for me. I would have made sure you came before I even entered you, gentle and slow.”

His words were sweet and filthy, both making your chest swell with emotion and your pussy throb in reaction. “And that’s why I fell in love with you.”

You weren’t even home for 10 minutes before Daniel was out the door on an errand so you unpacked your bags before taking a shower after the flight left you feeling icky. You took your time assuming he would join you after hearing him pottering around in the apartment but after running out of things to wash and shave you turned the water off.  After towelling off, you stepped out of the bathroom and gasped at what you found waiting in the bedroom. 

Scented candles lit the room with the curtains drawn shut, the orange glow of each flame spilling across the quilt that was covered in red petals. The playlist you had made with love songs for your wedding was playing quietly from the speakers in the ceiling and Daniel hummed along as he entered the room with two wine stems filled with the special reserve wine of his you loved.

“Baby…” you choked as your eyes began to well with unshed tears and he handed you a glass.

“No bad things tonight, kitten,” he promised before sealing it with a searing kiss that almost made you forget you were holding a glass. You started to place it down on the drawers but he pulled back and lifted it up to your lips. “There’s no rush, love.”

The hint of cinnamon notes in the wine mixed with the rose petals on the bed and Daniel’s woody cologne drove your senses wild as you took a sip. This time he followed you as you placed the glass down, letting you set the pace as you took his hand and walked backwards to the bed. His arms curled around your waist and he picked you up to gently lay you down on the petals. They crushed beneath you and their scent grew stronger as Daniel started to kiss his way down your body.

“That tickles,” you giggled as he made it to your ankles before starting to make his way back. He smiled as he draped one leg over his shoulder and kissed your calf while his hand ran up and down your other leg, the contrast of his hard fingers stark against his soft lips. “I love your legs, kitten, they are stunning, especially when they are wrapped around me.”

Warmth prickled across your skin as his words filled your heart until you were certain it would burst with everything you were feeling. This was the side of Daniel only the people closest to him saw. Everyone else saw him as a comedian or their competition. Few saw the compassionate and caring man that was in front of you. There was a seriousness with his determination to make you feel the best you possibly could that he didn’t even have on the track. 

“Let me wrap them around your hips then,” you dared as you wriggled closer, but he just chuckled and shook his head.

“Not yet, I’m taking my time with you.” His hands caressed your thighs, his thumbs drawing soft circles that brought him closer to your core each time as he settled between them. His lips found each stretch mark and blemish, kissing them with sweet murmurs of your beauty and erasing every insecurity you had felt over the years. “I am the luckiest goddamn man in the world, kitten.” Your head fell back onto the quilt as his breath blew across your core and his palms reached the supple skin on your inner thighs, his thumbs spreading you open for him. “Only an idiot would let you go.”

You could only just think clearly enough to comprehend the shade thrown at Andrew but it was forgotten when his tongue teased your entrance, dipping inside to taste your essence before he hummed in contentment. He kept his promise and took his time, keeping you teetering on the edge of bliss until you were lightheaded from the shallow breaths you just managed to gasp. Only when you were begging him, your muscles constantly tense and shaking from how tightly wound up you were, did he press his tongue to your clit and give you the pressure needed for the orgasm to break free. 

The room reverberated your cries of pleasure and his tongue was there to lap at the fruits of his labour and elicit every last drop until he was drunk on your taste. Rising to his knees between your legs, you could see his jeans struggling to contain his erection and you begged him to hurry up and rid himself of the clothes he still wore. 

You tried to help, reaching for the zip as he unbuckled his belt, but he stood up out of your reach to pull his shirt over his head and then kick his jeans off.

You couldn’t believe this was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, he was more than you ever imagined a husband to be when you cast your eyes over his body and watched him fist his cock in his hand. Somehow you had been lucky enough to find a man who would not only die to protect you, but make you feel alive with every breath he had left; a man who could go 300 km/h on the track but take his time loving you in bed. 

“Daniel, I love you,” you whispered as if it were a confession and not something you told him everyday - but this was different. He was giving you the experience you should have had the first time, when you lost your virginity too soon and to someone you didn’t love. “I’m ready.”

The weight of his body on yours was reassuring and comforting as he lined himself up, still content to take his time, easing slowly into you until you both moaned when your bodies were completely joined. Your breath mingled as he pressed his forehead to yours and felt your hands dance along his spine, his eyes staring into your soul as he started to leisurely roll his hips, deliberately unrushed despite the primal urge to chase his own release. 

You had never felt such a shattering release as you did when his hand travelled down your thigh, gripping the underside of your knee and pulling it so you could wrap your leg around his hip. There was something so intimate in the way his hand glided over your skin, finding the swell of your ass and caressing it with the same softness that sent goosebumps rising along your skin and your heart fluttering erratically. 

“Danny,” you moaned as you tried to tell him what was happening, but the words were lost as he felt it for himself, your core clenching around him before erupting in undulating waves that tipped him over the edge of his own self-control. 

Your name tumbled from his lips as you felt his cock pulse with his release, feeling the heat of his seed as it filled you and he dropped his head to your shoulder with a peppering of kisses. “Now I’m your first and last, kitten.”

Click here for the next part.

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[lewmagoo]

we own the sky | rhett abbott

part four: running towards a place

read the previous part here

series info: the fourth and final installment of the storm chaser rhett universe. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the series masterlist here.

description: in which you begin a new chapter

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of character death, grief, angst with a positive ending, mentions of sex, near-death experiences, blood and injury, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol, this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

word count: 8,960

notes: i can't believe we've finally come to the end of this series. when i started it, i didn't know if i would even be able to finish it. i poured everything into this story, and i am so thankful for all the love y'all have shown to it. i cherish every single comment. thank you.

The next morning, you were the first one to wake. Although it was still early, it was late by Rhett’s usual standards. Royal was likely already finishing up the morning chores, and probably irritated that his son hadn’t come out to help. 

But Rhett deserved some extra rest. 

And how beautiful he looked while resting. His lashes fanned beneath his eyes, and his face was so relaxed. He looked so boyish when he slept, as if all the stressors of the world were gone, if only for a moment. 

But reality had to hit at some point. He woke not long after you, eyes fluttering open to find you staring at him. He hummed sleepily, hiding his face in the pillow. “You’re starin’.”

“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful when you sleep.”

His face was half concealed by the pillow, leaving one eye exposed. It popped open to look at you. “I ain’t beautiful.”

You beamed at him as you reached out to tuck a curl of hair behind his ear. “Oh, but you are.” Then you leaned down to kiss his cheek. He moved his head at the last second so you’d catch his lips instead. 

“I don’t even wanna know what time it is. Dad’s probably fit to be tied.”

“So what? You’ve earned the rest,” you told him.

His face scrunched adorably. “Doubt he’d agree with ya.”

Another kiss upon his lips. “Doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

You watched as Rhett stretched, much like a cat after a long nap. A beat passed before he spoke again. “Can’t believe I get to wake up next to ya. Feels like a dream.”

“I promise I’m real. Definitely no dream.”

“Mm.” He reluctantly sat upright, rolling his head from side to side. You watched the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. “Guess we should go downstairs.”

“Guess so.” 

He looked at you, and his eyes flickered down to your lips. “I’m sorry, but I jus’ can’t stop kissin’ you,” he said as he brought his lips to yours, enacting a third kiss. 

“I don’t mind,” you assured him as you returned the favor, mouth soft against his own. 

For a few moments, you remained like that, kissing languidly. But both of you knew it would lead to something more, and while that sounded rather appealing, it was time to get the day started. There would be plenty of time for more escapades later. 

So you climbed out of bed and hurriedly got ready. When you made your way downstairs, you found Amy at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of cereal. 

She lit up at the sight of the two of you. “You’re up!” She exclaimed. “Gramma was just about to ask you if you could drive me to school, Uncle Rhett.”

Rhett nodded as he stepped over to the cupboard to retrieve a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Sure. Somethin’ wrong?”

“The storm blew the barn door off the hinges and she’s helping Grampa with it.”

He winced slightly, knowing helping with that door was his responsibility, not his mother’s. “Go ‘head and get ready, Ames. I’ll be back in a minute, I’m gon’ go talk to Gramma.”

Quickly, he sauntered across the kitchen and went to shove his feet into his boots. However, as he did so, Cecilia came back into the house. 

“Ma, I’m sorry, I shoulda been the one helpin’ Dad,” he called to her. 

The woman shook her head as she pulled her work gloves off. “Don’t matter. We got it done. ‘sides, I didn’t want to disturb you two. Figured you needed your rest.”

Across the room, you shared a sheepish look with Rhett. Obviously, she would put two and two together when she saw that her son wasn’t asleep on the couch that morning. It was clear that he was in his room, with you. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck as he ducked his head, slightly embarrassed. You didn’t miss the humorous glint in Cecilia’s eye. “Well, next time, just knock on the door. I’ll hear it.”

“Okay,” she said. “Can ya take Amy to school, by the way? I got a bit behind this mornin’, since the door took longer to fix than I thought it would.”

“Yep, she just mentioned it. We’ll take ‘er,” Rhett agreed. 

We. Those plans included you, apparently. Not that you minded, of course. You were more than happy to tag along. So, with Rhett’s cereal forgotten, the three of you made your way out the door, Amy bounding ahead so that she could climb into the middle of the bench seat between you and Rhett.

“Might as well just grab breakfast at the diner,” he told you as he fell into step beside you. “If ya don’t mind.”

Your face broke into a pleased smile. “I’d like that.”

Off to Amelia Elementary you went, with Amy talking up a storm, far too awake for the early morning hour. You simply listened to her, amused, as she asked Rhett question after question. He answered them all with patience, happy to entertain her curiosity. 

When he pulled into the carpool line, he threw the truck into park and slid out of his seat, boots scraping against pavement. He reached out and took Amy’s small hand in his, guiding her out of the truck. You watched fondly as the girl wrapped her arms around his middle, and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“Have a good day, Ames,” he told her. 

“I will. Bye! Love you!” She waved at you before she scurried off toward the entrance of the school. 

Quickly, Rhett climbed back into his seat and pulled out of the line so as not to hold up traffic. He made the fifteen-minute drive to the diner that was situated in downtown Wabang, and soon, you were both settled into one side of a booth, shoulders touching, cozy against one another. 

You shared a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes, with extra whipped cream, and plenty of black coffee for Rhett. It all felt so domestic, and you were filled with contentment. 

As you walked back out to the truck after your intimate little breakfast, Rhett slipped his hand into yours, and you let him, fingers intertwining. He opened the truck door for you, and guided you inside, and you felt like royalty.

“We headin’ to your aunt’s house to finish cleanin’?” He asked, once he’d climbed into his own side of the cab.

You smiled softly and said, “Yes.”

And that was where you remained for the rest of the morning, sorting through things, packing up donation boxes, scrubbing each room down from top to bottom. And much to your amazement, by the time you called it quits for the day, everything was finished, for the most part. All that was left was to tote all the donation boxes to local thrift stores, and the homeless shelters that were in the bigger, surrounding cities. 

The entire reason you had come back to Wabang was now fulfilled.

“I can’t believe it’s done already. Thanks for your help,” you told Rhett, as you sat cross-legged on the porch swing of your aunt’s house, a box of pizza open between you both. It was well past dinner time, and you were ravenously hungry after a day of hard work.

“No trouble ‘t all,” came his response as he tore into the remaining crust of his pizza. 

“Feels so good to have that out of the way.”

“Y’gonna be the one to sell the house?” He asked.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Honestly, I have no idea. I have tons of paperwork to go through, trying to figure everything out. We’ll see what happens.”

“Maybe my mom can help y’out, she’s the one who took care of everythin’ with my great grandma’s house when she died,” came his suggestion.

“Maybe I’ll take her up on that,” you agreed before you downed the rest of your pizza.

You were sitting with your legs over his lap, and once again, you were filled with that comforting sense of contentment. It felt so right, being with him. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the way it was meant to be. 

For just a little while, you were able to gradually dip your toes into the waters of your new relationship, and get to know each other all over again. With the rest of the storm chasing team busy figuring things out, subsequently putting any future chases on hold, it gave you ample time to spend with each other. 

You were grateful for the brief, intimate moments you were able to share with Rhett. Moments spent getting to know him all over again. You allowed yourself to be soothed by the lull in time. A few days where you could simply just be. 

But that was just the calm before the storm. Little did you know what was coming your way in the not so distant future. 

A week had passed since the last chase you’d gone on. A few storms had passed through during that time, but any twisters produced were far away, and weak at best. 

During that slow storm period, you busied yourself with dropping off donations from your aunt’s house to thrift stores and shelters, as well as enjoying time with Rhett’s family. You’d missed them more than you realized after all these years. It was clear that his parents were thrilled that you were back in their son’s life. It made your heart sing. 

You’d called into work to take the rest of your vacation time. You wouldn’t have any left for the rest of the year, but you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. You weren’t quite ready to leave Rhett and face reality yet. And, besides, you’d begun questioning if you even wanted to return. 

Could you really move back to Wabang? A few weeks ago, you would have said no. But now, you were conflicted. Your life was in Maryland, but your heart was with Rhett. 

Soon, you would make your choice. 

Just when you thought the team had forgotten about you and Rhett, he received a call from Zara one Friday morning. She explained that the combined CO₂ and nitrogen tests had brought promising results, and that they were ready to take the experiment out on a chase to see how it fared. 

The team had been monitoring a potential storm that was building not far from Wabang. It looked promising, and they wanted you and Rhett to tag along. So that was how you found yourself preparing for yet another storm, anxiety roiling in your belly as you stood in the front yard of the Abbott property, watching everyone pull into the driveway. 

You closed your eyes and breathed in deep, the scent of rain blowing in with the wind, and you were transported back to the last time you ever got to go chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. 

Oh, how far you’d come since then. If you focused hard enough, you could almost hear Lydia’s musical voice as she told you how proud she was of you for conquering your fear. 

“Y’alright?” Rhett asked as he sauntered up to stand beside you. His hand rested upon the small of your back, and immediately, your body relaxed. 

“I’m fine. Just thinking about…” You trailed off, suddenly overcome with emotion. 

He already knew who you were talking about. “Yeah, me too,” he replied. 

You looked at him, watching as his eyes glimmered with melancholy. “They’d be proud of us,” you said. 

“I know it.” His lips brushed against your temple and you leaned into him, allowing him to hold you. A moment of peace before you set off right toward the face of danger. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” you whispered. 

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “Yeah, honeybee. We are.”

Thunder rumbled overhead, and you looked to the heavens, eyeing the sky. Something shifted within you. A strange pull in your gut, as if an invisible force was tugging at you. The air felt different. Thick, as if the walls of nature were closing in around you. 

The hair at the back of your neck stood on end. The storm was much closer than you realized. 

The sound of Zara’s truck pulling in stole your attention away from the sky, but you were met with a wave of dread when she climbed out of the vehicle. Her face was bleak. So was Jeslyn’s. Something was wrong. 

Danny pulled the RV to a stop directly behind the truck, and as he and Finn climbed out, they were as eager as ever, clearly unaware of whatever had happened with Zara. But their jovial attitude soon quieted when they saw the grim expression on their friend’s face.

“What’s wrong?” You were the one to ask the question, stepping forward, uncertain.

Zara sighed softly, dark lashes fluttering. She looked to be on the verge of tears. “On the way here, I got a call that my mom’s in the hospital. I don’t know all the details but, uh, my dad wants me and Jes to go see her, so it’s gotta be serious.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, thick with emotion.

“I’m so sorry,” you told her, instinctively reaching out to hug her. As soon as your arms wrapped around her, a soft sob escaped her throat, and she hugged you back tightly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered after a moment, pulling away to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand. The rest of the group rallied around her, with all three boys stepping in to give her hugs. She leaned back against Jeslyn, who then wrapped her arm around her wife’s shoulders.

“What d’ya need us to do? We’ll take care of everythin’. You’d better get on the road quick so you don’t caught in the storm,” Rhett piped up, ready to help with whatever the two women needed.

Zara was too overcome with emotion to speak, so Jeslyn spoke for her. “Somebody’s gonna need to man the remote for opening the tanks, since Danny and Finn are gonna be busy with the radar.”

You stood there for a moment, realization washing over you. With Rhett busy driving, and Danny and Finn running the radar, the responsibility to open the tanks fell on you. A shock of anxiety ran through your chest. Did you have the courage to do this? You’d already guided Rhett on where to drop the tanks, but now, you would also be responsible for opening the tanks at the exact second. No sooner, no later. 

Suddenly, it felt so overwhelming. If you estimated right, you could potentially be the first person in history to stop a tornado. If you didn’t, everything Zara and the guys had worked so hard for could all be for naught. 

But you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, awaiting your answer with bated breath. Lightning cracked across the distant sky. Thunder rolled.

“I’ll do it,” you said.

“Thank you so much,” Jeslyn breathed, already turning to open the passenger side door of her truck. She rifled inside for a moment before she turned toward you again, thrusting the remote into your hand. “I know you won’t let us down.”

The pressure was on.

“Alright then, you two go on to the hospital, be with your mom. We can handle everything else,” Finn said, shooting a reassuring smile at the girls. 

“Thanks, guys,” Zara finally managed to say, deep brown eyes still swimming with tears. “Really.”

“We got you,” Danny said as he pulled her in for another hug. The rest of you followed suit. 

As she guided Zara into the truck, Jeslyn spoke over her shoulder, “Be safe, guys. Let us know how it goes.”

“We will. Drive careful, alright?” Rhett was the one to answer her. 

The four of you watched for a moment as the girls drove down the driveway, but you couldn’t afford to remain there for long. The clock was ticking, and it was time to spring into action. With hearts heavy for the sudden grief Zara and Jeslyn were dealing with, all of you set to work preparing for the chase.

The wind picked up as you headed to the barn, where Rhett’s truck was parked, to load all the cans onto the trailer. Danny pulled the RV up and Finn proceeded to open the storage hatch, revealing the cans of CO₂ and nitrogen.

As you scrambled like a bunch of worker ants, the atmosphere grew even darker around you. Eerily so, as if God Himself had turned off the sun. While the guys strapped the tanks down, you paused, stepping out into the open to look at the sky once again.

Goosebumps creeped along your arms, and a pit of dread formed in your belly, heavy like a rock. You took a few steadying breaths. The clouds looked angry. Black and foreboding, churning with unkempt energy. 

And then, as if the veil between heaven and earth had been torn asunder, an alarmingly large bolt of lightning struck the earth in the not so distant west pasture. The crash of thunder that followed was so violent it reverberated through the very marrow of your bones. 

You jumped back in fright, eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my god.”

“Damn, that was close,” Rhett called out, voice trembling slightly. 

You turned to him, and when he saw the look on your face, his brow furrowed in concern. You were speaking before you even realized you’d formed a thought. “It’s…it’s going to hit the farm. The twister, it’s–it’s gonna touch down here.”

The three men stared at you.

“How do you know that? Storm hasn’t even started yet,” Danny interjected, running a hand through his windswept salt and pepper hair. 

“I-I don’t…” You trailed off, your heart leaping in your throat as your phone began to vibrate wildly in your pocket. You slipped it from the confines of your jeans and stared at the screen. Tornado Warning. Seek Shelter Immediately.

There was no way of being absolutely certain that the twister would touch down on this exact property, but something in your gut was screaming at you. Danger, danger, danger. After what you had lost six years ago, you weren’t going to take any chances by dismissing the warning you’d just received. 

You locked eyes with Rhett. 

“Alright boys, let’s get movin’!” He shouted at Danny and Finn. 

Finn nodded. “Okay! We’ll fire up the radar and get out a little further from you guys so we can monitor it. We’ll be on the walkies with ya the whole time!”

The two were already scrambling to climb into the RV. As they sped off, you joined Rhett at the front of the Sierra. “‘Fore we go, I’m gon’ check on Mom and Dad, make sure they know to get in the shelter.” They were likely already aware, but Rhett wanted to make doubly sure they were okay.

It was late afternoon, and chores were mostly done for the day. Cecilia was likely starting on dinner preparations, while Amy did her homework at the kitchen table. A scene you had witnessed many times. 

But when Rhett came to a screeching halt just outside the house, his parents were already making their way outside, Cecilia clutching a bag of emergency supplies. Her face was full of fear, and your heart leapt in your chest, because somehow, you knew her fear wasn’t because of the approaching storm. 

“Oh, thank god!” The woman called out, rushing down the porch steps, her husband hot on her heels. “I thought you’d left already!”

“Wanted to make sure y’ got to the shelter safely!” Rhett responded over the rumble of the engine and the rush of the wind.

But his mother shook her head. “Amy went out for a walk an hour ago and she hasn’t made it back!” The terror in her voice sent a chill down your spine.

Rhett tensed beside you, but remained calm. “We’ll look for ‘er.”

“You be careful, y’hear?” Royal spoke up, “and you find our girl.”

“Please,” Cecilia echoed, reaching out to touch her son’s arm. She couldn’t utter another word, for her trepidation had rendered her speechless. 

“We’ll bring her home, Momma.” No more loss would be suffered in this family. Rhett would make sure of it. 

As his parents quickly made their way to the storm shelter, Rhett stepped on the accelerator, turning the wheel sharply. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you reached up, grasping the ceiling handle to hold yourself steady. 

“Where would she have gone?” You asked, shivering from the fright and mounting adrenaline you felt. Your chest went tight. 

“She usually takes the trail behind th’ house. She knows not to stay out there alone when it’s stormin’. She might’ve just gotten spooked and found a hiding spot. She’s smart, she knows to hunker down during a twister.” But it sounded as if Rhett was trying to convince himself. Truthfully, he was terrified, praying silently that Amy was okay.

As he sped toward the property at the back of the house, he said, “Get on the walkie and let the guys know what’s goin’ on.”

With trembling hands, you grasped the handheld device and quickly spoke into it, explaining the situation. 

“We’ll be in our place. If you can’t get in position soon enough, just let us know and we’ll scrap the chase altogether. Over.”

“Okay! Over and out!” You replied, tossing the walkie down onto the truck seat, swallowing down the bitter taste of dread that had risen in your throat as you settled back against your seat.

Obviously, finding Amy took precedence over trying to catch a twister. Nothing else mattered in the moment. Your mind was clouded with urgency and desperation. Both of you were quite literally stricken, unable to form words as Rhett frantically drove, his eyes searching, his mouth moving silently around the syllables of his niece’s name. 

For a terrifying second, he was transported back to that terrible, awful day six years ago. It was an image that was branded into the folds of his brain forever, like the Abbott brand that his father imprinted onto all their cattle. 

If he happened upon the very same scene with his niece, it would break him irreparably. 

But he wouldn’t let his mind go there. Not now. Not when she needed him to find her, to save her, to protect her. “You see anythin’?!” He called to you, knuckles white around the steering wheel, shoulders pulled toward his ears. 

“No!” You exclaimed, not daring to take your eyes off of the surrounding plains, looking for a flash of golden hair, or the bright purple shirt you’d seen the girl wearing earlier. C’mon, baby girl. Give us a sign that you’re out there.

Rain had begun to pelt against the windshield of the truck. Around you, the wind picked up. Trees swayed in a haunting fashion, their leaves shivering, undersides turned toward the sky. A warning. Danger is coming.

“Goddammit, where is she?!” Rhett growled, slamming his palm against the dash in frustration. 

Nausea roiled in your gut. Your extremities felt numb, your body vibrating with unease. When had it gotten so hard to breathe? It felt as if someone was squeezing your lungs, inhibiting you from taking in oxygen. You were suffocating. Choking. Strangled by your anxiety. 

And then you saw it. Just over the ridge, where the earth dipped into a valley. Purple.

“There!” You cried, jamming your finger against the window, pointing into the distance. 

“What?!” Rhett couldn’t see anything. Whatever it was, was now hidden from view. But you knew you’d seen it. 

“Just turn right! Head for the valley! I swear I saw her!”

He yanked the wheel to the right, and the truck veered sideways, jostling you both. His foot was heavy on the accelerator, picking up speed, the uneven earth sending your heart straight down to your stomach.

Your gaze was locked straight ahead, afraid that if you looked away, you would miss it. Miss her. 

Closer, closer, closer to the valley you got. Just up ahead, you could see that the earth gave way, sloping down into a dropoff. “Stop!”

Rhett slammed on the brakes, and the very second he threw the truck into park, you were leaping out, feet landing against grassy earth before you sprinted forward. He followed suit, running alongside you toward the drop.

Just as you came down into the edge of the valley, you saw her. Huddled down against the cleft of earth, arms over her head, frightened and alone. Rhett dashed ahead of you, calling out the girl’s name, dropping to his knees beside her.

She lifted her head, large eyes growing wider still. “Uncle Rhett!” She wept, instantly surging forward to throw her arms around his neck. 

“I’ve got ya, honey! Let’s get y’outta here!” He scooped her up with ease, cradling her close as he stood to his feet. He nodded toward you, and you both ran back up to the truck. 

You threw yourself into the passenger seat and turned, allowing him to guide Amy up into your lap. You hooked your arm around her waist and pulled her toward you so he could slam the door shut. 

“Are you okay?!” You asked her, searching her over for any injuries. 

“I am!” She answered, bottom lip quivering, eyes filled with tears. 

“You scared us so bad, darlin’!” Rhett exclaimed as he hurriedly climbed into his own seat, slamming the door shut. 

“I’m sorry!” She cried. “I was trying to get back but got really scared that I wouldn’t make it to the shelter in time, so I got into that ditch!”

“You did the right thing,” you assured her, tucking her windswept hair behind her ear. She nodded, throwing herself forward, face buried against your neck as she cried. 

But the moment of relief was soon stolen from you as the sound of hail began to strike the roof of the Sierra. Rhett grabbed the walkie-talkie and called into it, “We found ‘er! We’re on the move again, y’got a read on what we’re dealin’ with?! Over!”

There was no time to waste. Either you got moving, or you were sitting ducks. 

But Finn’s reply came through the receiver as an unintelligible, garbled mess. Rhett tried to raise him again, but once again, all he was met with was static. “Shit,” he cursed, tossing the walkie down onto the seat. He turned to you, and his eyes were alight with worry. “We’re goin’ in blind.” 

At that very moment, the hail stopped. With a trembling hand, you opened the window, holding your arm outside. The air felt thick and humid, but an odd sort of coolness came along the edge of the wind. 

And then you looked up. 

“Oh my god.”

There it was. Enormous and foreboding, a wicked twister breaking forth from the sky, touching down in the pasture adjacent to you.

“It’s going toward the house!” Came your despaired shout. 

Eyes wide, Rhett sprung into action, slamming the gearshift into drive and wedging his boot against the gas pedal. “Jesus!” He shouted. “Hold on, y’hear?!” The truck lurched forward, gradually picking up speed, faster and faster, staying parallel to the quickly developing tornado. 

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. With Amy huddled against you, you blindly reached out, grabbing for the remote to open the tanks, knowing you needed to be ready, lest you miss your opportunity. 

It was close. Too close. Gaining traction by the minute, swallowing up the surrounding earth, kicking up debris along with it. If you didn’t get out of its path, you knew that the three of you likely would not survive. 

Rhett brought the truck to the highest possible speed, fighting to keep control, body rigid against the seat. “Tell me when to drop the tanks!” Came his desperate plea. 

But your voice wouldn’t come. Your throat felt as if it had closed up, forcing you to remain silent. It wasn’t time, not yet. You were too close. If he slowed down, it would steal precious time. Time that you didn’t have. 

You found yourself in a precarious position, trying to comfort the scared girl beside you, while also counting down the seconds in your head, hoping Rhett would find a safe distance. Part of you wondered if this was it, if you’d end up like your three friends once had.

Somehow, your voice returned, and you yelled, “Take a left!” 

He did, veering in the direction you told him to. Amy shrieked in fear as the truck shook violently. You tugged her closer, bringing her head to your chest, free hand covering her ear to muffle the sounds happening around her. 

Your eyes, wild and alert, stayed glued to the churning column of air, now behind you. The size of it made your blood run cold. Could you really stop one this big? Was this even possible? Were you simply speed-running your own demise? 

“Talk to me!” Came Rhett’s voice in your ears. 

“Not yet!”

He kept his speed, pushing the old Sierra as fast as it would go, faster than he’d ever driven in his life. His ears were ringing. His breathing was ragged. Everything in his body told him that he needed to get you and Amy out of this situation. 

But he pressed on, waiting for the exact moment you told him to drop the trailer.

And then, “Now!”

He brought the truck to a screeching halt, arm darting out to keep you and Amy from flying forward. As soon as he knew he was in position, he jammed his fingers into the button in the center console, securing the trailer into the ground.

Then, he flipped the switch to release the hitch. 

But nothing happened. 

“What the hell?” He flipped it again, but it simply wouldn’t work. 

“Rhett, what–” 

He was already unbuckling his belt. “Stay put! I’ve gotta unhitch it!”

He wrenched his door open and jumped out of the truck, to your utter horror. Amy sat up, frantically calling his name, fearful of her uncle’s fate. You watched him like a hawk, breath bated, hackles raised. 

And then, all at once, a large piece of flying debris sailed through the air, and before he could react, it clipped him right in the head, and he went down.

Your world tilted on its axis.

“No!” You shrieked. You threw your door open and told Amy to stay in the truck as you hurdled yourself into the storm, wind pulling at your clothes, a powerful, uncontrollable force that could very well rip you right out of existence if it chose to do so.

“Rhett!” His name came out as a broken wail. Your mind only allowed you to think one thing: oh my god, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead.

But then, hope.

“Here!” He was scrambling to his feet, knees almost buckling under his weight as he fought to pull himself uptight along the side of the truck. His head was bleeding, crimson flowing down the side of his face. But he was alive. 

“Baby!” You threw yourself at him, grasping his face, searching his eyes. “I thought–”

“I know! I’m fine! Get back in the truck!”

But you weren’t leaving him out here. You shook your head in refusal and, instead, aided him in unhitching the trailer from the truck. It took both of you giving it your full strength before it finally gave way.

Hair flying every which way, face bloodied, he locked eyes with you and said, “We got it! Let’s go!”

Fighting against the roaring, screaming, howling tempest, you ran like hell to the passenger side, hoisting yourself into the Sierra. Rhett made it into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut before he frantically threw the gear in drive and peeled off, leaving the trailer behind. 

With one hand holding Amy’s, and the other clutching the remote, you turned in your seat, waiting for the exact moment to press the release button. Closer and closer, the twister raged on, devouring space and time, threatening to consume Rhett’s childhood home. 

You’re not taking anything or anyone else away from me.

You jammed your thumb into the button as hard as you could, praying silently that the tanks would open without issue. Five, four, three, two, one…

The twister concealed the tanks, inhibiting your view. You had no idea if what you’d just done was even working. Even so, you called out, “I opened the tanks!”

Rhett’s knuckles were white as snow as he clutched the steering wheel, and in a split second decision, probably the most foolish one he’d ever made, he turned at the last possible moment, swinging the truck so that it was parallel to the twister. And then, he thrust his foot onto the brake pedal, and the vehicle came to a shuddering halt.

Both of you turned, eyes on the tornado. You reached out, grabbing for Rhett’s hand, fingers intertwining, holding on for dear life. He moved quickly, his body shielding yours and Amy’s. If things went south, he could not protect you, not from this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

Together, you watched, not daring to breathe, move, or speak. 

Seconds passed, but they might as well have been hours. Then, all at once, the sky swallowed the twister whole, pulling it right back from whence it came, and the earth was silent.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. So did Rhett. Amy tentatively lifted her head from where it had been hidden against your chest. You turned your head, face full of disbelief, meeting Rhett’s gaze.

You saw that, right?

“Did we just…”

His mouth broke into a grin, though his lips were stained red from the blood that had been running down the side of his face. “Yeah, we fuckin’ did!”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, unable to hold in the laugh of utter disbelief that tore from your throat. Amy asked a question, but you barely heard her, for you were too overwhelmed. Once again, you opened the truck door, sliding from the seat, feet on stable ground.

You walked past the truck. Into the field. Toward the trailer that still remained in the place you had dropped it. And there were the tanks of CO₂ and nitrogen, valves open. It had really worked, hadn’t it?

You felt like a firework exploding in the sky, so full of color and light. Tears welled in your eyes, and you found yourself turning around, searching for Rhett. He was there, just like he always was, watching you in awe, his gaze as warm as the sun.

“We did it,” you whispered, legs already moving, body drawn to him by an invisible force, unable to be apart from him for a second longer. You were free-falling, trusting him to catch you. And he did, arms pulling you into him, holding you close, hand cradling the back of your head.  

It all came pouring out of you then. The elation at what you’d just accomplished. The realization that your fear had been well and truly conquered. The thought of just how proud Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would be. If it was possible to feel joy, disbelief, and sorrow all at once, you felt every bit of it. 

It was raw and painful and beautiful. 

You sobbed into Rhett’s chest, body trembling, knees almost buckling. He gently rocked you back and forth, arms secured tightly around you, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the entire world. 

“We’re okay, honeybee. We did it. You did it.” He, too, could not hold his tears back. They poured down his face, onto the top of your head, as the two of you stood there, holding one another, weeping openly.

Moments later, Amy’s voice could be heard, calling out to you. You parted from Rhett, turning to see the girl approaching, holding the walkie-talkie in her hand. “This keeps going off!” She exclaimed, waving the device around.

Rhett stepped forward, reaching for the walkie. As he tried to raise Danny and Finn on the channel, you opened your arms, and Amy surged forward into your embrace. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” You asked her.

“Y-yeah,” she said with a nod. “That was so scary! But you stopped it, didn’t you? It worked?”

You managed a smile, despite your tear-dampened cheeks. “Yes. It worked!”

She grinned widely, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, that’s so cool! You stopped a tornado! I bet you’re the first person in the world to do it!”

Though, you couldn’t entirely take credit for it. After all, you’d only pressed the button. It was Zara’s brainchild. However, you were elated that you had been given the opportunity to put it into action, and see the results up close and personal. 

“We did it, boys!” Rhett shouted into the walkie, his voice drawing your attention back to him. “We stopped our first twister!”

The sound of hooping and hollering could be heard on the other end, and you found yourself beaming, a sense of all-consuming joy washing over you. The look of pure, unadulterated glee on Rhett’s face made your heart sing, threatening to soar right out of your chest and into the clouds above.

“We’re comin’ to you, so stay put!” Finn shouted over the receiver.

“Over and out!” Rhett responded. Carelessly, he tossed the walkie-talkie aside, letting it thud against the soft earth. Then he was running at Amy, lifting her into his arms and spinning her around as she squealed with delight. “We did it, honey!”

“Yeah!” She laughed musically, throwing her head back, hair flying behind her. 

As he slowed to a stop, he gently put her down, but he swayed a little, unsteady on his feet. Instinctively, you reached out to steady him.

“Whoa there, cowboy.” You tilted his chin up, inspecting the gash on his head. It was right above his temple, and it looked rather deep. “You need stitches.”

“Naw, I’ll be fine,” he protested with the wave of his hand. 

“You’re bleeding from a gash in your head. You’re getting stitches.” Your tone left no room for discussion. 

Rhett simply shut his mouth and nodded. In the moment, hopped up on adrenaline, he couldn’t feel it. But now, it was beginning to throb, and he felt a little woozy on his feet. Even so, he simply couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

It felt as if he was living in a dream. He was afraid to pinch himself, for fear that he would actually wake up. However, the warmth of your body against his as you wrapped your arm around his waist was real. Your sweet voice, full of concern as you fussed over his bloodied face, was real. You were real. 

“Here they come!” Amy called out, motioning to the approaching RV. Danny was driving at full speed, clearly eager to reach the two of you. 

Still pressed against Rhett’s side, you turned your head, raising a hand in greeting. As soon as the vehicle came to a halt, both men jumped out, hooping and hollering. 

“We thought for sure you guys were goners!” Finn exclaimed as the two jogged toward you. “We lost your signal and couldn’t see you anywhere!”

“Honestly, we thought we were goners, too,” Rhett replied with honesty as he exchanged a knowing look with you. You placed your hand over his heart. You were both here. Alive and safe. The Fates had smiled down on you today.

“Damn, look at your head,” Danny spoke up, eyeing the wound. “Y’alright, man?”

“Yeah. The trailer jammed and I had to jump out and get it unhooked. Got clipped in the head while I was doin’ it.”

“Hey, what matters is you survived. And you stopped a fuckin’ twister, baby!” Finn shouted. Then, upon noticing Amy’s presence, he winced. “Whoops, sorry kiddo. Guess I should watch my potty mouth.”

Amy grinned as she came up beside you, lovingly taking hold of your arm. “It’s okay, just don’t let Gramma hear you talk that way,” she said with a giggle.

You smiled down at her, but very quickly sobered up when you thought of her grandparents. “We’d better go check on your parents,” you told Rhett. However, just as you spoked, the sound of an approaching truck grabbed your attention. 

All of you looked across the pasture to see Royal’s old truck approaching. As soon as he came to a stop, Cecilia was all but leaping out of the cab, Amy’s name on her lips as she rushed toward the group.

“Gramma! I’m okay!” Amy called out, rushing to her grandmother. 

You watched, verklempt, as the woman dropped to her knees in front of her granddaughter. Her entire world. “Oh! You had us scared half to death, you hear me?! Don’t you ever do that again!” She scolded, though there was no malice in her tone. She pulled the child to her bosom and hugged her tightly. Amy hugged her right back.

Moments later, Royal joined his wife, and Amy pulled away to hug her grandfather, arms wrapping around his middle. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, never one for dramatic shows of emotion. 

Cecilia rose to her feet again, and finally took in the sight of the four of you. Her eyes fell upon her son, and she stepped forward, concern clouding her face. “Goodness, Rhett. Your head!” She approached, gripping his chin and turning his face so she could get a closer look. “You need stitches!”

His mouth curved into a soft smile, though his eyes shone with tears. “I’ll get ‘em, Mom. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

She patted his cheek, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m your mother. I’ll always worry about you.” Without a word, Rhett broke away from you so that he could embrace her, strong arms wrapping around the woman who had given him life.

He thought of all she’d lost. She had endured the worst loss that anyone could suffer, and yet, she was the picture of strength and grace. He was so grateful for the mother he had. He knew that he put her through a lot by choosing to chase, after that very same thing had been what took her oldest son from her. And yet, she never once told Rhett to give up what he loved, even if it scared her to no end. 

“I love you,” he heard himself whisper. 

As she pulled away, she patted his chest and nodded, unable to voice her reply. But he already knew what she’d say. I love you too. 

And then he lifted his head to see his father approaching. Royal eyed the gash on his son’s head, and proceeded to clasp his shoulder. “You did it, boy. You fin’lly did it.”

Rhett grinned. “Nah. She did it.” He pointed to you, pride evident on his face. 

You came up beside him, and he tucked you against his side once again. “We did it,” you corrected. There was no you without him.

“Well, because of you, the farm’s safe, and so’s Amy. And I just know that Perry and the girls would be so proud of what you two did today,” Cecilia spoke out, smiling tearfully. She pulled you in for a hug, which you gratefully accepted. 

You cherished the significance of the moment, body warm with pride and disbelief at the accomplishment you had just witnessed. 

“Can we get ice cream to celebrate?” Amy’s voice suddenly rang out over the low chatter of the group. Her eagerness pulled an amused laugh out of everyone.

“First, Uncle Rhett needs to get his head sewn shut. But yes, we can get ice cream,” Cecilia promised. The girl excitedly pumped her fist in satisfaction.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” you told Rhett, slipping out from beneath his arm.

“So that means I ain’t drivin’?” He asked.

“Are you kidding me? Absolutely not.” Then you turned to Danny and Finn. “You two want to get ice cream with us after I get this guy put back together again?”

“Yeah, sure,” Danny said, nodding his head. “First we’re gonna check on the tanks and see if Zara’s up for a talk so we can let her know what happened.”

“Just give us a call once you head to the ice cream place and we’ll meet you there,” Finn echoed. “We’ve got so much to do. We…we really stopped a twister. We’ve got phone calls to make. We need to get a grant from OU. We need to see if we can start testing this out on a wider scale. I mean, holy shit, this is, like, history making stuff here!”

Danny clapped him on the back. “Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll figure all that out.” He looked at you and Rhett and smiled. “You focus on gettin’ our cowboy stitched up. We’ll talk everything else over later.”

You hummed, shooting him a smile. “Sure thing. See you guys in a bit.”

As the two men ambled off toward the trailer to inspect the tanks, you turned to guide Rhett to the truck. Cecilia and Royal were already guiding Amy into their own vehicle to depart, which left the two of you alone.

“C’mon now, let’s get you fixed up.”

Rhett smiled as you led him toward the passenger side, and as you opened the door, he leaned toward you. “Can you believe it?” He asked. 

It was your turn to smile, and you shook your head. “No. I really can’t.” It was truly unfathomable, the thing that you had done that day. Stopping a weather phenomenon in its tracks. It was impossible. Improbable. And yet, with Zara’s genius invention, and the rest of the team’s help, you’d made it happen. 

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes as you nudged him to climb into the truck. “Far from it. I just pressed a button.”

Once the door was shut, he leaned out the open window, arms resting atop the door. “No. You did so much more than that. You go from bein’ fuckin’ terrified of twisters, to conquering one of ‘em. Pretty amazing if y’ask me.”

Ducking your head shyly, your lashes fluttered before you looked up at him again. When he lowered down to kiss you, you let him. “I’m proud of you, girl.”

His praise was all you needed to hear.

With a soft sigh, you rounded the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. You started the engine and then moved to buckle your seatbelt, making sure Rhett’s was also buckled, before you set off across the property, toward the main road.

For the entire ride to the hospital, his hand rested comfortingly upon your thigh. You let it stay there.

Once you arrived at the emergency room, it did not take long at all for them to call him back, his head wound making him a priority. Around you, people chatted about the storm, and how they’d seen a twister touch down nearby. Little did they know that the reason it stopped was because of what you had done. 

Rhett was given a total of four stitches in his head. Though he was entirely fine with needles, you still held his hand during the procedure. He didn’t push you away. In fact, he was grateful for your presence. It made him feel at ease. 

Afterward, once he was all stitched up and ready to go, you walked out of the hospital, with his arm around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. “Let’s get you some ice cream, cowboy,” you said.

“I like the sound of that.” He replied.

If only for a short time, you let go of everything. The stress and the fright that you had endured that day. The worry, the uncertainty, and everything else. You let yourselves celebrate an astonishing victory with the people you loved, enjoying ice cream cones, reliving happy memories, and telling stories of storm chases gone by.

And you realized, as you sat around the table at the very same ice cream parlor you had gone to after Rhett’s extraordinary ride at the rodeo, that you were entering into a brand-new chapter. Everything was going to change after this, and you welcomed that change with open arms.

It was time to start living your life.

Epilogue

One Year Later

“S’that the last box, honeybee?” Rhett’s voice rang out through the house, reaching your ears from where you stood in the hallway.

“Yeah, that’s everything!” You called back.

His footsteps were heavy on the rickety old staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He found you standing in the doorway of what was now your shared bedroom. He couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his mouth at the sight of you, so effortlessly beautiful, and all his.

“Hey there,” he murmured, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You melted into him, body warm and familiar. 

“You’re sweaty,” you stated, and he hummed in amusement. 

“Yeah, well, draggin’ eight hundred boxes into the house will do that to a body,” he replied.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Me? Exaggerate? Never,” came his faux shocked reply.

You turned in his arms then, placing your hands against his solid chest. Sweat glimmered on his brow, which you reached up to wipe away, letting your fingers wander to the faint scar just above his temple. A reminder of the day you had made history. “Can you believe we’re finally here?”

He shook his head, ducking his head to kiss your nose. “Been waitin’ for this moment for so long. A place t’ call our own.”

What a journey it had been. After the success of stopping the twister the year prior, you had made the decision to leave your job in Silver Spring and move back to Wabang. You didn’t want to endure a long distance relationship with Rhett. If you were going to invite him back into your life, there would be no miles between you ever again.

You decided to buy your great-aunt’s house after you’d cleaned it out. But the place had been in need of many repairs. After many months of hard work, the house was finally ready for you to move in. And what a joyous occasion it was. You were filled with hope, and excitement for the future.

Things were looking very promising for you both. Your background in weather analyzation had landed you a job at the University of Oklahoma, overseeing the field-testing of various weather related devices. The university had bestowed a grant to Zara’s team, funding any further research into the use of CO₂ and nitrogen used to slow and stop tornadoes. 

Unfortunately, Zara had been unable to be as involved as she wanted to be with the project. After the initial health scare that had taken her and Jeslyn away from the chase you’d gone on a year ago, Zara’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer, leaving Zara and Jeslyn to move into her parents home to help her father care for the woman. 

In her absence, she asked you to supervise any and all chases involving her method of tornado taming, and you gladly accepted the responsibility, willing to help her in any way possible as she endured this difficult time.

As for Rhett, he was recruited by the university to test storm chasing vehicles that might be used in future weather projects. He was able to take each of them into the field to see how they performed under acute weather conditions. No vehicle passed inspection without his stamp of approval. 

Both of you had been through so much. Loss, grief, fear and uncertainty. There would always be a void in your hearts, a permanent ache whenever you remembered the three people that had been ripped from your lives so many years ago. You would never forget them, and you would honor the memory of Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia in everything you did. 

But now, it seemed that there was a light shining at the end of the long, dark tunnel. You were moving into your very first home together. You were truly, deeply content, and you were able to do what you loved, side by side. 

What more could you have ever asked for?

The vibration of Rhett’s phone in the pocket of his jeans cut through the air at that very moment, interrupting your peaceful exchange. Quickly, he slipped the phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.

As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Let me guess, it’s Danny,” you said.

Rhett grinned, turning the screen so you could read the text. Storm’s moving in! Y’all ready to wrangle some twisters?

“Well then, I guess we should get a move on, huh cowboy?”

He stole another kiss from your lips before he grasped your hand. “Guess so, cowgirl.” Then you were off, hand in hand, rushing down the steps. 

As you scrambled out the door, the feeling of heavy, humid air immediately engulfed you, and you breathed in deeply, relishing in the scent. A storm’s a brewin’.

But you weren’t afraid. Far from it. You were eager, heart pounding against your rib cage in anticipation. Oh, how far you’d come. What had once terrified you now exhilarated you. 

“Ready, honeybee?” Rhett asked you as you climbed into the truck. 

With a confident nod, you replied, “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go own the sky, baby!”

Fin.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

the same sweet shock | alpha!rhett x omega!oc

Summary: Tessa, an omega, has a problem. She can't seem to get laid and she needs it - desperately. And when her friends suggest that she go off her suppressants for a bonfire she might just get more than she bargained for. (wc: 5288)

Warnings: omegaverse stuff/lore (of which i am not well verse do not hang me), language, background ocs, a flashback, a pinch of angst, alpha!rhett abbott my beloved, trevor is a dick, attempted assault, protective rhett, SOME FAIRLY SEXUAL CONTENT OBVS SO 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (masturbation mention and thigh riding)

✎……listen i...something came over me...and i already have bits and pieces of the second part written so like...lemme know if ya want more

✎……MASTERLIST

“Guys, I don’know about this…” Tessa sighed as she glanced warily down at the injection needle in her hand, filled with a blue liquid.

Her suppressant dose for the following day that she usually injected just before going to sleep. But now there she sat on her bed, rolling the syringe in her hand — filled with the thing she was always told would keep her safe — debating whether or not she should take it. Just because her friends had a semi-decent point: 

It had been nearly a year since she had sex, and she needed it, desperately. 

She felt like a spring wound too tight, ready to explode with all that built up energy and force. And no matter what she did, no matter how many new toys she bought and tried out, nothing helped. It just created a stronger itch, a stronger desire. To be well and truly fucked by someone else. Held in their arms and kissed and maybe even wanted for a night. But, yet again, no matter what she did, she couldn’t find the right person to hook up with. One night stands were never her thing, and living in a small town where everyone knew everyone and she went to high school with every guy around her age, made it difficult. 

Well, she might have found someone she could see getting in bed with, but he was just a friend. Even if, for the past several months, every night when she touched herself she thought of him.

She knew you weren’t supposed to think of friends that way. But it was hard when that friend was none other than Rhett Abbott. The boy she had a crush on in high school but had only recently reconnected with. The man who, half the time, she couldn’t tell was flirting with her or not. Who looked so good in a pair of Wranglers and a stetson; rode bulls like an artist would paint. Who grinned at her like they shared some secret and blinked at her bashfully when she complimented him. How was she supposed to not think about him that way?

But it wasn’t just her lack of sex life that left her anxious and irritated most nights. It was that ever-present and gnawing feeling that there was something missing. Like there was some itch she couldn’t quite scratch. Like she left something behind and she couldn’t remember what or where. But she knew it was gone. Knew there was a hole where it should be. A gaping emptiness in her that she feared, one of these days, would consume her whole. 

She knew, on some base instinct, what it was she was missing. What it was her biology craved and longed for. But it was something she was unsure if she’d ever be able to have.

“S’gonna guarantee y’get laid, that’s f’r sure,” Chessler replied from the video call on Tessa’s laptop she was on. 

“Or I get torn t’pieces,” Tessa said.

“Oh, y’won’t get torn t’pieces!” Laney scoffed with a flick of her hand. “All them stories’re exagerated!” 

Like you’d know, Tessa thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It was difficult being the only Omega in her friend group. They were all Betas, they didn’t have to worry about heats or anything like that. They got to live normal lives for the most part. They didn’t have to worry if their supply was running low or get turned away from jobs just because of their biology. Jealousy, green and ugly, snagged at Tessa’s heart as she gripped the syringe tighter in her grip. 

“We even know if any Alphas’re gonna be at the party?” Riley asked.

“Walker’ll be there, but ll’keep’im distracted.” Laney winked and the rest of them groaned. 

“Pretty sure Cash n’his brother Trip’re comin’.”

“The Jenkin’s boys? Haven’t they been workin’ in Cheyenne?” Tessa questioned.

“I don’know tha’s just wha’I heard.” Chessler shrugged. 

Tessa took a deep breath, moved the syringe to her other hand. “Trevor’ll prolly be there…”

Trevor Tillerson. She was with him for a few months, the last man to ever touch her. And if she could go back in time and slap her younger self for getting with him, she would. He seemed nice at first. Made her feel special and showered her with gifts. That was, until he figured out she was an Omega. Then suddenly it was all pressure to get off her suppressants and expectations for her to submit to him like the Omega she was — like the Alpha he was. She broke it off and he got mad. It opened up something deep and terrifying within her to wonder what he would do if he caught her off her suppressants and possibly in a heat.

“N’so’ll Rhett,” Riley pointed out with a knowing grin.

“Yes! Rhett Abbott! Oh, s’perfect!” Laney squealed.

“Guys, we — we don’even know f’r sure if he’s an Alpha,” Tessa said, her entire face feeling hot as she looked down at her injection needle again.

“Babe, there’s no way he’s not. Have y’seen’im?” 

“Yeah, no Beta’s that confident or has that kinda…Presence.”

“S’just that…He’s never mentioned it…” she replied. 

“Maybe he’s the type t’keep it to himself. Plenty people like that.”

“Not everyone’s a complete dick about it like Trevor.”

“I guess, but…I don’know, m’just scared of what’ll happen,” Tessa said.

“Look, how ‘bout this,” Riley jumped in, “You don’take y’r suppressant tonight n’go t’the bonfire tomorrow with all those Omega hormones lurin’ the boys in, n’we’ll make sure nobody unsavory gets anywhere near ya. Deal?”

Laney and Chessler nodded in agreement. And while Tessa was still scared, still terrified that it would only end in disaster like her parents had warned so many times before, she agreed. Set her suppressant aside with a dramatic flourish so her friends could see over the video call.

What could possibly go wrong?

She felt fine for most of the day. Even normal. Going about her usual routine with only a knot of worry growing and twisting in her stomach. Mostly about what would happen that night at the bonfire, when she knew she would be surrounded by Alphas and Betas alike. She didn’t feel a heat coming on, though she hadn’t dealt with one since she was a teenager.

Tessa remembered what it felt like, despite the passage of time. Despite only experiencing it once before her parents took her to the doctor and got her on suppressants. The signs and symptoms burned into her. The memories of those days locked in her bedroom etched into her mind.

It was mostly confusion. Hatred of her own self for being this way instead of normal like all her friends. Pain and just wanting it to stop. Some instinct from deep within calling out for her Alpha to come and help her. Make it go away. Knowing that everything would be good when he was there. And it still brought some sort of embarrassment and shame to her heart that even back then, the face that came to her when she begged for her Alpha to come, was Rhett’s.

The pain started as her sister was driving her to school. Her breasts felt sore and swollen, a swirling in her gut that she couldn’t quite explain. Shiloh asked if she was alright as she pulled up in front of the school, and Tessa assured her everything was fine. Just some odd pains that she really didn’t feel like discussing with her sister in the school parking lot. It would probably go away in a few minutes.

But it didn’t. It only grew worse. By third period biology Tessa was squirming in her seat. She felt desperate for any sort of friction, everything felt swollen and wet. Hot all over and head spinning so much she couldn’t concentrate on the lesson. Her stomach was even beginning to cramp, jolts of pain with her mind screaming empty at her. 

She didn’t understand, she didn’t understand. 

And it certainly wasn’t helping that Rhett Abbott kept looking back at her every five seconds with a hungry look in his eye. 

After class, she called her mother in tears. Trying to explain without going into too many details how she was feeling and that she just wanted to go home. A bleak understanding took over her mother’s voice when she told Tessa to go to the nurse and wait for her to come get her. Tessa didn’t like the sound of it. Was she dying?

She went to the nurse and again tried to tell her what was happening. Stumbling over words and symptoms even as she felt sweat sticking to her shirt and her head became more and more clouded. Stuffed up like there was nothing else in there besides empty and Alpha. Again, understanding took over the nurse’s face and Tessa felt a sense of dread mix in with everything else as she was directed to take a seat. 

The nurse said something about making a call but Tessa couldn’t really hear her. Not when her heart was practically beating in her ears and she was trying desperately to hide the fact that she was rubbing her thighs together — trying to find some relief.

But she looked up, startled and afraid, when the door to the nurse’s station swung open.

And Rhett Abbott stood there staring at her with wide eyes, almost like he was shocked he was even there himself. Hair cropped short with a few curls dangling over his forehead, a line in it like he had been wearing a hat and been yelled at to take it off. He held a backpack with one strap on his shoulder. Lanky and tall and unaware of the fact as he took up nearly the entire doorway. 

They looked at one another for a moment. Tessa with her chest heaving and her vision going fuzzy, another cramp going through her when she caught some scent in the air. Leather and wet earth. It made something inside her ache. Made her hands itch to reach out for him, somehow knowing he could make everything better but not understanding why or how.

“M’sorry, I don’...” he trailed off as he took a step forward.

There was that smell again. So familiar, so calming — and yet she had to grip her stomach as it cramped. A whimper tumbled past her lips as she felt the first tears slip out. Rhett made to drop his backpack, take the last few strides to cross the room to her. 

But then the nurse came back into the room and gasped at the sight of him. 

“Rhett Abbott you get outta here right now! Out!”

It was a memory she didn’t like to think back on. That made her cheeks heat and her palms sweat and something inside her ache. But still that scent came to her from time to time. Leather and wet earth. Rhett, something inside her whispered every time and she had to force it down. No. Nothing ever came of it. He wouldn’t even really look at her when she came back to school a week later and hadn’t talked to her up until a few months ago. She wondered if he even remembered that day. When they both somehow knew he could fix what was wrong with her. 

Maybe that was why she tried to deny that he was an Alpha. Maybe that was why she feared going to the bonfire in the state she was in, knowing he would be there.

What if he got pulled away from her again? What if he just rejected her like she had heard Alphas do before? The worry and fear grew inside her, an open pit she was on the edge of falling into.

Riley came and picked her up for the bonfire around eight. It was a perfect summer evening. The sun already starting to dip between the trees but the sky still a brilliant shade of blue. The air was just beginning to cool from sweltering hot to a more bearable temperature. Perfect for a bonfire out in the middle of someone’s back field.

“Ya woulda looked cute n’a dress s’all m’sayin’,” Riley commented as they pulled out of Tessa’s driveway and out onto the main road. 

Tessa looked down at her old pair of jeans and quarter zip. Something comfortable when she felt distinctly uncomfortable was at least sort of helpful. She wasn’t about to wear a dress to a bonfire, something she would never do normally, just because she was looking to get laid. Or claimed? Or fucked? Or…Something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on?

“N’freeze my ass off? No thank you,” she replied lightly with a smile.

Riley gave her a sidelong glance, curiosity bubbling in her deep brown eyes. “So…How ya feelin’?”

“I — I really can’t tell,” she sighed, “I mostly feel nervous. But I can’tell if m’just doin’ that thing where y’give y’rself symptoms? Like I expect ‘em t’be there so there they are?”

“Like what?”

“Like my tits hurt.” Riley laughed and she had to shut her up with a playful smack to the arm. “M’bein’ serious! They’re sensitive!”

“What, like y’re pregnant?” Riley chuckled again.

“No, not like that.”

But the thought, the thought of being pregnant and filled, brought one screaming idea to the forefront: empty. An unconscious hand moved to rest over her stomach. Just like when she got her first heat back in eleventh grade. With a deep breath, she shoved it down deep inside herself. Smashed it up into a box and locked it up tight.

She wasn’t going into heat. She wasn’t going into heat. She wasn’t going into heat. It was just one missed suppressant dose. Surely it couldn’t do that much damage.

“You do smell different,” Riley commented.

Tessa looked over at her with furrowed brows. “How can y’tell?”

“I may be jus’a Beta but I can still smell the…You coming off ya. S’kinda strong.”

“Doesn’t smell bad, does it?”

“No! S’like uh — like — this’s gonna sound weird, don’judge me — like early mornings and honeysuckle,” Riley said with a chuckle.

“That’s…Oddly specific.” 

“You asked!”

The bonfire was at Olivia Barlow’s family ranch, out in their south pasture. A small thing that made quality, pricey beef that got shipped all over the country. And there were at least twenty other cars there by the time Riley and Tessa pulled in. 

Probably more people than Olivia told her parents would be there. But it wasn’t like they were going to know or mind. They were miles away from the house and they were all adults. Or at least pretended like they were during business hours. Now though, now it was like they were all back in high school. Passing around coolers and kegs of beer and dancing to country music blaring from someone’s sound system in their truck. A classic Wabang bonfire if Tessa ever saw one.

By the time Riley and Tessa joined their other friends closer to the massive fire with grey smoke billowing up into the darkening sky, they already had chilled drinks pressed into their hands. And Tessa had nearly forgotten about her suppressants and her heat and the soreness in her breasts.

And the beginning aching feeling between her legs. 

That was, until Rhett joined their group. Grinned at her all shy and small and gave her another drink because he saw hers was empty. Stood close to her side as he listened to the long time friends chat and laughing when he would catch Tessa’s eye. Until, somehow, it was just the two of them. Standing by the fire and talking about games he had been playing recently and shows she liked. About their days on the high school rodeo team and memories they didn’t even realize they shared. 

It astounded her how easy it was to talk to Rhett. How naturally their conversations flowed and how normal it felt to stand so close to him. To feel the heat coming off of him and feel his breath, like cheap beer and chewing tobacco, against her face. And she didn’t even mind it. She felt safe and cared for and thought of when she was with Rhett. And she couldn’t help the yearning and longing and love that welled up inside her as she looked up into his deep blue eyes illuminated by the fire’s glow — half shadowed by the bill of his trucker-cap.

“You smell nice,” he suddenly muttered, voice deep and graveled as he flashed her a small smile.

A heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Thanks.” 

“S’like honeysuckle,” he went on, narrowed his eyes at her slightly. “S’it new?”

“N-No. M’not — M’not even wearin’ anythin’.” 

Rhett grunted at that, those cobalt eyes flicking down then up again as he looked at her. As he took a step closer. “I’member that smell.”

Leather and wet earth. The scent of it filled her lungs and made her breathe clearly for what felt like the first time in years.

The heat spread everywhere. Like she was standing in the fire and didn’t care if she burned. Her mind became blissfully blank as she stared up at him. As a flood of arousal soaked her panties. And she watched, unable to move in fear of breaking the spell, as Rhett’s eyes darkened. Like he could sense it. His hand reached for her and she stepped just that little bit closer.

“Holy shit! Tess Abernathy’s about to put out ladies n’gentlemen!” A loud, boisterous voice exclaimed as an arm was thrown around Tessa’s shoulders.

And the spell was broken.

Rhett snapped his head up to look at who was now hanging all over her. Eyes darkened by something else now. She knew who it was. She didn’t have to look over to know.

“Fuck off, Trevor,” Rhett hissed.

“Oh, come on now, Abbott. Jus’a little fun,” Trevor replied, squeezing Tessa in closer to his side. “Isn’t that right, little Omega?”

Tessa felt tears sting the backs of her eyes as she looked around. Everyone was trying to just stick to their own conversations, but she could tell they were looking over. Glancing and whispering and talking. It was like the fire was inside her very chest. She tried to pull away from Trevor but he just pulled her in tighter. Arm nearly curled around her neck.

And she couldn’t help but feel some shame when Rhett glanced at her when he said the word Omega.

“What? You didn’know?” Trevor laughed, “Big Alpha like yourself an’you can’t just smell it on her? She fucking reeks. Practically screamin’ f’r someone t’breed her.”

Ashes and deer hide — Trevor’s scent that always made her feel nauseous. 

With his arm around her neck, Rhett looking at her like that, and Trevor’s scent choking her lungs — she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Could feel a cramp beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. The world turning hazy as her thoughts blurred and blended together. She just needed to get away. Needed to find some place alone and secluded so she could try to breathe and maybe get ahold of Riley to take her home.

She managed to slip out from under Trevor as Rhett charged forward. Poking a finger into his chest and grumbling out something about just shutting his mouth and leaving her alone.

The cramp, powerful and immobilizing, finally overcame her as she stumbled away from the two of them. Into the small patch of trees in the Barlow’s south pasture, just outside the edge of the bonfire’s circumference. The sounds of the party faded into background noise as she tumbled past the thicket line. Where a larger tree stood just beyond that she found purchase against. 

The rough bark was grounding against her palms. Brought her back to her body and what needed to be done. She felt like she was boiling. Between her legs felt slick and swollen, desperate for attention. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest and even she knew, from the way eyes followed her as she stalked away, that people knew. They knew she was an Omega about to start her heat.

And she was doomed.

Turning, she leaned back against the thick trunk and took in a deep, shaking breath. She wasn’t in a full heat yet. But she was just on the precipice. Anything could set her off. She needed to get home and fast. Hopefully, if she took her suppressant and just laid down for the night the symptoms would subside. If only her hands would stop shaking enough to pull her phone out of her pocket. 

“There you are, little Omega,” Trevor called out quietly, followed by the breaking of branches. 

Her head snapped up to see him walking slowly towards her. Devilish smile on his face as he flicked his blond hair out of his eyes. He was wearing some ridiculous “Western” purple button up with a shining belt buckle he had not earned. Another cramp ripped through her abdomen as his scent filled her nostrils.

“No,” she managed to mutter out as she pointed weakly back at the party.

“No? You can’t be serious right now. You need me,” he replied, still continuing closer. 

And all she could do was try to back herself further up against the trunk. Praying by some miracle the bark would open up and swallow her whole. The closer he got, the heavier it felt she was becoming. She sagged against the tree. Her mind fogged of nothing but empty and Alpha. Trevor could fill her. Trevor was an Alpha. 

“Y’re about t’go into heat, aren’t you?” Trevor questioned, so close now all she could smell was him, could feel his breath on her face. “Need me t’knot you up n’knock you up, don’t you? Let me be your Alpha, baby.”

Yes. “No.”

The single word came out slurred, slow and heavy on her tongue. Trevor just chuckled and pulled in close. Put one hand on her waist as he leaned down, mouth brushing over that swollen gland in her neck that made her shudder. Suddenly, she was taken back to when the two of them were like this before. When he got tired of asking and nearly bit into her mating gland. Nearly forced her to be with him for the rest of her life — against her will. She had screamed then and she opened her mouth to do it again. But it was like her muscles wouldn’t quite work. The sound wouldn’t quite come up and out of her throat. All she could manage was some broken squeak as she pushed weakly at his chest.

“Don’fight it, you know you want it.” 

She did want it. She wanted to be filled and touched and knotted and just full for once in her life. But she didn’t want it from Trevor Tillerson. She tried to scream again but still, nothing came out besides another garbled no that Trevor didn’t heed and a few tears. 

Then suddenly, Trevor was yanked away from her. Leaving her cold and barely able to hold herself up as her knees buckled, her back slipping down the rough bark.

Leather and wet earth. Rhett.

She looked up just in time to see Rhett push Trevor away, the two of them chest to chest as Rhett backed him away from her. 

“You touch her again n’I’m gonna put you in the fucking ground,” Rhett seethed as he stared Trevor down.

A gush of arousal soaked her panties as she whimpered, hand gripping her stomach as another cramp hit her at full force. She was panting and doubled over and clawing at the tree to try and stabalize herself. But it was no use.

Rhett looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. His nostrils flared as his eyes darkened beneath his cap, something like understanding taking over his features.

And Trevor laughed. “You can smell it now can’t ya? That little Omega’s in heat n’somebody needs t’claim her before the Jenkins brothers get over here and tear her limb from limb. N’she’s mine. Always has been, always will be.” 

Turning back to look at him with eyebrows pulled low and a curl in his lip, Rhett practically snarled before he pulled back his fist and got Trevor with his knuckles square in the jaw. Trevor retaliated with a growl, tackling Rhett in the chest. But Rhett didn’t go down, he only stumbled back a few steps, and another few when Trevor’s fist connected with his side. But with another shove and another punch to the face, Trevor was flat on his back, staring up at the stars with a groan.

Rhett turned to Tessa immediately.

She was still leaning back against the trunk of the tree, chest heaving as she clutched at her stomach. She could barely think, thoughts all consumed by the slick between her legs and the empty feeling in her chest, but someone was coming. Probably Cash and Trip, maybe even Walker, lured in by the scent of her heat. Her heat that had been set off completely, brought on by an Alpha defending her.

Rhett Abbott defended her. Protected her. He was so good. A good Alpha. He would treat her well. He would make everything better, just like she always knew he would. He would make everything alright…

“Tess, you okay?” Rhett asked quietly.

She didn’t even realize he had moved from standing over Trevor. Not until one of his big hands cupped her cheek and forced her to look up into his face. His expression crumbled at the sight. A soft groan slipped past his lips. No doubt her face was flushed. Her eyes half-lidded and pupils blown to consume all of their usual blue. He squeezed her cheek just a little harder, drew in just a fraction closer. 

“Fuck, sunshine…” he whispered under his breath.

Her hands, against her own will, shot out to him. Took hold of his waist and tried to pull him in closer. Get him inside her skin. Alpha, who would make everything good.

“Please,” she heard herself say, but did not realize her mouth had opened. “Hurts.”

Rhett groaned again, ripped off his hat so he could press his forehead against her own. “I know, I know. You got…Got any’a that medicine with ya?”

“N-No, I didn’t think…” Her throat swelled with tears before she could finish, tears blurring her vision as she let out the smallest sob.

She didn’t think this would happen. She didn’t want this to happen. If she could, she would slap herself for agreeing to this scheme. Just to get laid. Another sob slipped out of her as Rhett shushed her. 

Her stomach cramped again and she fell forward into his chest. He caught her with ease, unintentionally putting one thigh between her spread legs to help keep her upright. A whimper escaped her at the sudden contact, her hips wriggling against all logical thought to get more friction. To just make the pain stop. 

“Fuck, this isn’t how I wanted t’do this,” Rhett muttered as his hands fell to her hips.

No, no, no, no, he doesn’t want me, she thought. And it took all of her remaining will power to stop her minute movements, a whine punching out of her as she looked back into his face. “M’sorry, m’sorry —”

A twig snapped somewhere to the west, from the direction of the party, and Rhett hunched over her further. Nearly curled around her as he pressed a hand into the tree bark and leaned in close to that swollen gland in her neck. From his behavior, other Alphas and Betas were coming. Drawn in by her scent or just curious as to what the commotion was all about. Either way, she didn’t want to be seen like this. In the middle of a heat, in the middle of nowhere, with an Alpha she was sure was about to reject her.

“M’not gonna bite ya, promise,” he whispered, before tilting his head, presenting the side of his own strong neck to her. “Just gon’mark ya. Let everyone know to fuck off.” 

In a moment, she was overwhelmed by his scent. It filled her lungs, her pores, her very soul. He scent marked her. Let the world know she was his and his only. At least for the night. Rhett growled as he shoved in closer to her, head turning to sink his teeth into the hinge of her jaw. A tiny scrap of his canines that left her moaning. Alpha Alpha Alpha. It made her head spin and her knees fail her once more. Her hips dropped even harder onto his thigh, and she moaned as he guided her to move against him. Not tentative and trying to be impreceptible, but purposeful rolls against his jean clad leg. It was like ice on burns as she threw her head back and gripped tightly at his shirt. 

“Wanted this t’be your choice,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“W-What?” she asked, some clarity returning to her as the ache was eased between her legs.

“Tess, I’ve been thinkin’ about you n’y’r heat — n’y’r smell’ve honeysuckle n’early morning air since I’s seventeen,” he gruffed out, lips pressed to her temple. “You…I think y’were always meant t’be my Omega n’I just — after meetin’ you again — fuck, I wanted t’take it slow.”

In response, she whined wantonly, openly. High in her throat with her head thrown back and hips working even faster against his leg. He wants me, he wants me, he wants me.

“Y-Your Omega,” she stuttered out with a breathless smile.

Rhett grinned back at her, nudged his nose with her own. “Yeah. Mine.”

More rustling from the west. And Rhett snapped his head up to look at who was intruding on them. Teeth practically bared as he blocked her from view. Tessa ducked in close to his chest, trying to hide. Her hips stopped moving on instinct. Embarrassment and thoughts of her Alpha protecting her flooding her veins.

“Fuck off,” he growled to whoever it was.

“Shit, Abbott got here first,” the distinct voice of a Jenkins brother said, most likely to the other.

“S’not too late, y’could just pass’er off when y’re done with her. Let us have a turn,” the other Jenkins said, “She smelled real fuckin’ pretty before you covered it up.”

“I said fuck off, she’s mine,” Rhett repeated on a bark, voice echoing through the trees.

“Alright, alright, okay. We’ll back off.”

Rhett turned his attention back to her, hand tilting her face up to look at him again with the softest expression she didn’t think he was capable of. Eyes big and blue as the near nightime sky. A piece of hair he now kept long dangled in front of his face. She wanted to push it back, knowing he didn’t like it in his eyes. But her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. She could barely lift her arm from his waist before it fell against his chest.

“We need t’get you outta here,” he whispered, calloused fingers slipping down to massage gently into her swollen gland. “Somewhere safe.” 

“Home?” she mumbled back.

“I don’know if y’re gonna be able t’make it all the way home, sunshine. We could go t’my place? S’close — five minutes. If y’re okay wi’that.”

His place. Surrounded by his smell and his things and him. Tessa was nodding before she knew she even had an answer. And Rhett smiled as he pressed his lips to her burning forehead. Then he scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing, head tucked into the crook of his neck, and he carried her away.

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[withahappyrefrain]

Summary: When your pastor wishes to practice fulfilling his God-given responsibilities, you're more than happy to oblige.

Warning: Strong breeding kink. Language, preacher!Rhett, female reader, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), creampies. I'd like to give my NSA agent a formal apology.

The praise got old after a while, the words all the same. He smiled and nodded as he made his way towards the back of the church, past the throngs of people. Their compliments washed over him. He had heard them all before. 

Beautiful sermon. So lovely. What a fresh take. What a way to take it back to tradition. 

He used to cling to every comment when he first began as the church's preacher. Hung to their every word. 

But now he had something more important. Something better than the congregation's words. Something that he believed rivaled heaven. 

You.

As he walked down the hallway of his church, the voices of adults faded away and were replaced with that of young children. 

Some say it was a miracle how quickly you had been able to grow the children’s ministry. Rhett knew it was because once you set your mind to something, you were determined to get it done. 

Like how you were determined to start a new life. Determined to put your past behind you. Determined to spend more time with him. 

Not that Rhett minded. He had already been thinking of ways he could get you involved, get to know you better, get to spend more time with you. He saw your potential, ever since he first met you at that church picnic. 

You were much like him. A good soul that had been led astray by wayward circumstances, desperately trying to get back to salvation. 

Which was why Rhett did everything he could to make you feel welcomed, to find a place for you. 

The clergy had been talking for years about expanding the Children's Ministry; expanding beyond a nursery, turning it into a place where all children could learn the valuable words of the Lord, where families could become a part of a welcoming community. 

Then you came along. It didn't strike Rhett as odd that you were working at the local diner, despite having gone to school for teaching. It wasn't his place to judge, after all, everyone had their reasons. 

Just like he had his for leaving Wabang. 

Rhett was convinced. Convinced that you were the answers to his prayers. That God had led you to him. 

You were much like him. You wanted to do good, to repent for your past sins. 

When he offered his help, you accepted graciously. After all, the program had to be blessed by the lead pastor. 

And soon, you were blessed by Rhett. In his office, bent over his desk. Over the front pew, right before his sermon. In his home, as he sat in his leather chair, while you were on your knees. In your home, your back against the bed while Rhett's mouth whispered words of praise against your cunt.

Reverend Abbott had many blessings to bestow onto you. 

But the biggest blessing Rhett wanted to give you- his last name- had to wait. As a preacher, he could get married. However, that didn't stop him from having to navigate the bullshit of church politics. That people felt strongly over who should be the wife of their preacher; after all, she would become the face of the church. 

You were willing to work your way up. Not that gaining the good graces of the congregation was hard. Everyone loved how you had dedicated yourself to creating the Sunday School program, how you took the time to get to know families, earning their trust when it came to looking after their children. 

Normally you would be leading the Sunday school session for the early school age children. But today you were in the nursery. A new couple was hesitant about leaving their first child alone, so to soothe their nerves you promised to be in the room.  

Rhett beamed with pride when he saw how relaxed the couple was after hearing you'd be there. Though his mood had dampened when he realized the only way he could show it in public was a simple squeeze of your shoulder. 

He wouldn’t have to do that much longer. Rhett had started receiving knowing glances when you were mentioned. Folks had begun coming up to him, telling him how good you had been for the church. 

The ball was rolling. Soon Rhett wouldn't have to sneak around and instead could kiss you whenever he wanted, instead of behind closed doors. 

Rhett was incredibly thankful, as the sight in front of him nearly brought him to his knees. 

Through the door window, he saw you in the nursery, wearing the same yellow gingham dress you wore to the church picnic where he first met you. In your arms was a baby you were rocking back and forth. 

You looked like a natural, like it was what you were always meant to do. You confided in Rhett that you did enjoy the times you got to go to the nursery, to spend time with the youngest. 

Rhett could see your mouth moving, a bright smile on your face as you spoke to the infant. You gently placed them in the nearby crib, rocking it to ensure the infant fell asleep. 

He watched as a toddler waddled up to you, pulling on the long skirt of your dress. You didn't mind, picking up the little tyke and resting him on your hip. 

Rhett gripped the door knob, trying to ground himself while all the blood in his body went straight to his cock. He tried to think of holy things, he really did. 

But the thought of you surrounded by children-his children, with your stomach round and full with his baby, refused to leave his mind. 

Perhaps it was a sign from God that he needed to explore. 

First, he needed to get you out of here and into a room alone with him. 

"Miss Fabre?" You had gotten better about responding to your 'name'. Soon you would have a new last name- Rhett's. One that was actually yours, one that would represent new beginnings.

It's what you deserved, after all your hardships. Rhett wasn't sure why someone like you had been given so many challenges. You didn't deserve to have to look over your shoulder, worried a remnant of the life you tried so hard to escape would show up. You still did, despite watching Rhett ensure your ghosts were laid to rest. 

You looked up, a sweet smile overtaking your face at the sight of him. 

He swore his knees nearly went weak. 

"How's our newest member of the congregation?" Rhett motioned to the crib you were nearby. 

"She's doing well!" You put the little toddler down, who was more than happy to scurry off and investigate the painting activity. 

"She was a little fussy at first, but settled right in." Rhett joined you by the crib, admiring how you looked down at the little one with such bright eyes and a smile nothing short of radiant. 

"That's because she had you," His voice was low in your ear. A shiver went down your spine when you felt his large hand squeeze your shoulder. 

"You're a natural at this, y'know that?" You could only nod, too busy focusing on the butterflies in your stomach. 

"Think one day you'll want your own?" Your head turned to find Rhett's blue eyes focused on the baby in the crib. 

"I do," you paused, your hand moving closer to Rhett's, "with the right person." 

Rhett's breath hitched upon feeling your pinky gently run along his hand. Your touch grounded him. To Rhett, it was his salvation. 

And he wanted to show that to you. 

"May I speak to you? Privately." 

You would do anything the owner of that deep voice asked. 

You nodded, following him out the door. As soon as you two were out of sight, his hand engulfed yours, leading you through the hallways of the church. 

"You leading me through a maze?" You giggled. Normally your laugh was music to Rhett's ears, a sound better than the choir. 

But there were more pressing matters at hand. 

As soon as the door to his office opened, Rhett's lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands now on your shoulders, walking you backwards. 

The click of the door closing is now distant. Did he even close it all the way? Your head was clouded due to his addictive scent; rosemary that always lingered on him. 

His stubble is now brushing against the soft skin of your neck as his teeth nip down to your collarbone. Rhett's hands felt heavenly, squeezing your breasts through the soft fabric of your dress.

"Need my angel," he muttered against your skin, teeth nipping at the soft flush. 

You found yourself on his desk, legs spread wide enough for Rhett to get down on his knees, ready to worship at his favorite altar. 

The soft fabric of your dress is pushed upwards to your hips, exposing your clothed cunt. 

Rhett made quick work of removing the cotton fabric, stuffing it in his back pocket for later. 

A gasp fell from your lips upon feeling his stubble against your thighs, his teeth sinking into your soft flesh. 

"Rhett, some-fuck! Someone could walk i-in," you tried to get his attention by tugging on his dark blonde locks. The action only spurred him on, his tongue desperately lapping at your core. 

"Good, let'em see who you belong to." 

Everyday he was getting bolder. What had started out as small smiles and quick taps on the shoulder had turned into lingering touches and whispers in your ear, beyond what was appropriate for two colleagues, for two friends. 

Your teeth sunk into your fist, trying to contain your whimpers. As much as you loathed having to sneak around, it was for a good reason; you two were so close to being in the clear, to finally reaching the path God had intended for you two all along, despite the numerous obstacles thrown your way. 

And yet, you can't find it in yourself to push him away. Your body melts into him, relishing in his touch. 

Rhett easily works two fingers inside of you, thankful that he had you earlier this morning, hours before his first sermon. 

He knew greed was a sin. But was it greedy when he just wanted to fulfill his duty? 

"Such a good girl, always ready f'me." 

His words caused you to whimper, your hips bucking up towards his face. Rhett let out a chuckle, sending vibrations throughout your body as he looked up to see your withering form. 

Rhett thought it was better than any other icon he had ever seen. Your parted lips, half closed eyes, the small gasps that fell from your mouth. 

"You want it? Wanna be full of me?" 

"Always wanna be full of you." 

His cock twitched at your words, grunts falling from his lips as his hands fumbled to remove his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down far enough to free his hard cock. 

Your arms extend out, finding his hair as his lips devour yours, swallowing your moans as he eases into you. 

Rhett can feel your hips squirm as you adjust to the sheer size of him. You bury your head into his neck, trying to muffle your gasps as he bottoms out. 

"S'fucking tight."

For a man of God, his mouth was sinful. 

He quickly set a fast pace, knowing how short he was on time. You buried your face into his neck, practically clinging onto him for dear life. 

"Want me to fill ya up angel?" You could only whimper in response, causing him to chuckle, "Course ya do. S'good f'me. Gonna be the perfect lil' wife f'me." 

Your walls clenched at his words. It wasn't the first time you two had spoken about this particular subject. But usually it was done with bashful smiles and Rhett's cheeks turning red as a tomato. 

This? This was bold. 

You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t like it. If you hadn’t thought about taking the next steps with him. Haven’t thought about moving in with him, living on his ranch with a little one running around. 

"Ya like the sound of that? Gonna keep you full of me. Every day 'till it takes." 

His cock began brushing against the spot that made you see stars. Your lips pressed against his forehead, his mouth moving down your collarbone to the tops of your breasts. 

"Gonna look s'good, full of me," he pulled the fabric down before sinking his teeth into your skin. Rhett knew that you could easily cover the bite marks. In fact, he loved it. Loved knowing underneath that fabric were physical reminders of his devotion towards you. That you would be able to feel it, you would know it was there as folks tried to talk to you. 

That you were his. 

Those very thoughts sent your head reeling, pleasure surging throughout your body. Any concern about the door, someone walking by, the Millers' baby, were gone. All you could focus on was the way his cock made you feel so full. 

“Fuck, can’t wait until these get full. Ya gonna look so pretty angel, carryin’ our baby.” His tongue lapped at the fresh bite mark on your breasts. The action did little to soothe you, adding to the ache between your legs. 

Two fingers tapped at your bottom lip. You opened, moaning around his long digits. Soon, there would be a wedding band around one of them. Soon you two wouldn't have to go to restaurants in the next town over. Soon you would be able to hold his hand in public. 

Soon you two would have the life you always deserved, the life you both made so many sacrifices for, committed sins for. 

Rhett always said that sometimes God put good people in bad circumstances. And that in those cases, the Lord understood you had to do what was necessary to get out. 

You still doubt whether you were good. But with Rhett, you knew you could be. 

His fingers left your mouth, moving to just above where your bodies connected. 

"Gonna have ya sit in the front row. So everyone can see who you belong to. See who fucked a baby into ya." 

Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders. Even with his button up, you knew there would be faint crescent-shaped marks. Not that Rhett minded. He liked the physical reminders of your devotion just as much as you, if not more. 

His hips rocked into yours. That, combined with the circles he was drawing on your clit, led to your undoing. His other hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your moans. You should at least try to be quiet, given the circumstances. 

But that was near impossible with how his thick cock was dragging in and out of your wet cunt, prolonging your pleasure. He always made you feel so good, so full. 

"Rhett," his name weakly fell from your lips, barely audible over the obscene sound of his cock fucking your wetness back into you. 

"Whatcha need angel?" He grunted. Rhett liked to consider himself a good listener. Many had told him it was one of his strengths as a preacher. But it was so hard to focus on anything other than you. 

"Need….need y'to fill me up," your words were slurred, as if you were drunk off his cock. 

Wouldn't be the first time. 

His hands gripped the back of your thighs, bringing your legs up to his hips. The new angle allowed him to fuck you even deeper. 

"That's what ya want? Want me to fill ya up? Make ya mine?" 

"W-want it s'bad Rhett." His words made your walls clench, head spinning in a sickly sweet pleasure, "Wanna have your baby." 

None of the words that fell from his mouth could be found in the Bible. 

The oversensitivity combined with how deep he was fucking you caused you to teether back and forth from pleasure to pain. A near animalistic need was overtaking your body, the only thing you could focus on was the sensation of him coming deep inside of you. 

"Want me to keep going, don't ya? So deep inside ya, I bet ya want it to take." It made your head reel that this was the same man who an hour earlier, was speaking to a congregation about loving thy neighbor. 

His different layers were what caused you to fall in love with Rhett. The same man who was grunting words of pure filth was the same man who planned to make you dinner. It was the same man who personally saw to it that your demons were laid to rest, unable to haunt you ever again. 

The same man who was now pressing his lips gently to your forehead as he pulled out. 

"I'll feel ya up real good tonight angel, promise. But folks are probably wondering where we are." You nodded, though your body remained wrapped up in his. 

"You know, they're still gonna wonder where we are, even after they learn about us." 

Rhett simply smiled as he stuffed your panties into his back pocket. 

"Yeah, but they'll know better than to say anything about it." 

One of your eyebrows quirked upwards, "Perks of being a man of God?" 

His lips pressed against yours for a quick peck, "You'll get those perks too angel. Soon." 

It couldn't come soon enough.

[finnydraws]

Girl Dad Rhett/reader

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/ Female Reader

Word count:575

Description: Life with a lovely cowboy, who loves you and your child very much

genre(s) fluff, slice of life

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy/childbirth, mentions of not great parents and insecurities.

Rhett was terrified the first time you told him you were pregnant. His brain just showing him bad memories of his childhood, and of the way Perry treated Amy. He was so uncomfortable with it, that he blocked it from his brain and you had to tell him another 4 times before we was ok.

He starts treating you so gently, don’t expect to go ANYWHERE without this man following you.

The bathroom? He's right outside the door. You’re cooking? He’s there, burning whatever it is you let him help with. Don’t even think about trying to go into town without him.

He buys and stocks up on all of your cravings.

He goes to every. Single. Appointment. At one point Royal asks him to help around the farm and halfway through the task, Rhett leaves him with no warning to get to the appointment on time.

Cried like a baby when he saw you were having a little girl (even though he thought he wanted a boy at first he couldn't imagine anything other than his life with his daughter)

He builds and paints all of her furniture, shades of green and yellow while you draw designs onto the wall. Rhett won't let you touch the paint. Something about chemicals.

When it's time to start buying clothes he needs a second to collect himself after seeing just how small the shoes are in his big hands.

He spends ALL his money on clothes, toys, pillows, blankets. Books, you name it.

At one point he’s half asleep and asks if you think he’ll be the favorite parent, asks if she’ll even like him, and if he can take care of feeding/ comforting her at night.

Tells every person in town about his daughter and keeps the latest ultrasound on his person.

Invites so many people to the baby shower (most people don't come but he invited them nonetheless)

Does not invite perry, he actually tells perry he better not show up.

When you go into labor he panics for a good 10 minutes before packing you into the truck, and speeding to the hospital, if a cop tried to stop him he wouldn't know.

Your baby Iris Cecile Abbott is born at 3:42am on June 10th, about 16 hour later

Y'all steal everything from the hospital room (babies are expensive and if you're already gonna pay for you might as well use em)

Rhett calls his mother to tell her first, bawling as he holds his daughter that he swears has your eyes

Iris is a daddy's girl as she grows up 100%, begs him to take her around the property and look for toads or snakes. He teaches her to ride a horse and she goes into the rodeo (tie down calf roping when she's older, and barrel racing)

Every time Iris competes, Rhett's the loudest one cheering, he definitely shouts stuff like “that's my baby!” and “go on baby! Get em!”

When she hits puberty Rhett nearly cries because he thinks his baby won't want to hang around him anymore

Will check in on her in the middle of the night, make sure she's ok and sleeping well

He 100% tries to intimidate her partners so only the good ones stick

Definitely spoils her though. If she did something small like failing a class she knows she can just say “I'm sorry daddy, I'll do better next time” and he's gone

[vivwritesfics]

I need rhett or jake to teach me how to ride a horse

I feel like you already sent me a jake one (which i wanna save for my princess au) so I've gone for Rhett (this could be read as Waiting For The Sun Reader but I'm not specifying)

Horses weren't supposed to be scary. Rhett had never thought so, but, then again, he'd grown up around them. His girl, though, she hadn't grown up around horses.

She looked so cute, in her jeans, white shirt (that said Cowboy Pillows over the tits), and his Stetson. Rhett wore one of his caps as he tacked up Pumpkin. Pumpkin, who acted like she didn't know him when he walked up in his cap. That was his lovely, overdramatic mare.

Her ears were pinned back as he brushed her back. "Seriously?" He asked and pulled his hat off, revealing who he was. She calmed down after that, ears moving forward as she realised it was his dad. "Are you gonna be nice for my girl?" He asked and fed her a treat.

Pumpkin snorted.

He placed her saddle on her back and cinched it. As soon the girth tightened around her belly, Pumpkin put her ears back went to bite him, but he just pushed her away.

She was all talk. Rhett knew she was gonna be the best girl for his girl. He placed his cap back on his head, grabbed her reins, and walked her out of the barn.

That was the thing about Pumpkin. As soon as she had her tack on, she was like another horse. She was calm, almost like she was high.

And there she was, thumbs hooked around her belt loops as she watched him with Pumpkin. Rhett sucked in a breath. He placed the reins over Pumpkins neck and walked towards her.

"Cowboy pillows, huh?" He asked as he grabbed her hips and pulled her into him.

She licked her lips, keeping on hand on the back of the Stetson as she looked up at him. "Yep," she said, popping the p. "You can lay on them once you teach me how to ride.

"Darlin', I already know you can ride."

She rolled her eyes, but kissed him anyway. "C'mon, introduce me to your noble steed."

Noble steed. Pumpkin had never been called that before. He took her hand and led her over to Pumpkin. Rhett was so calm and patient with her, telling her where to put her hands. He helped her get her foot into the stirrup (something he knew he'd have to adjust as soon as she was sitting) and helped to lift her into the saddle.

"Sit straight, Darlin'," he said as he took her foot from the stirrup and made them shorter. She did what she was told, sitting so pretty for him. Rhett held her leg as he placed the stirrup back on her foot and patted her knee.

He looked up at her. "Fuck, c'mere," he said and pulled her down to kiss him.

"Rhett!" She cried, slipping slightly. But he got her back into the saddle and passed her the reins to hold.

It was only her first time on a horse. Rhett led Pumpkin around the pasture as she sat there in the saddle. "You're doing so good, darlin'," he said to her. "My two girls together."

"Can we go faster?" She asked.

Rhett had her let go of the reins. He placed her hands on the pommel. "Just sit as best you can, Darlin'," he said and stepped back.

He waited until she gave him a walk before he began running. Well, it was more of a jog really, with Pumpkin trotting behind him. Periodically he looked back, make sure she was still with him and that she hadn't slipped from the saddle.

They slowed back to a walk and Rhett had her pick up the reins again. He had her walk back without his assistance, hands shoved into his pockets as Pumpkin followed her back to the barn.

As soon as they were there, Rhett helped her to jump down into his arms. "You did so good, pretty girl. A regular cowboy out there," he said, hands around her waist as he pulled her closer.

She swapped their hats, placing his Stetson on his head and his cap on hers. "You go take care of Pumpkin, and I'll get the cowboy pillows ready," she said, reaching back to unclasp her bra through her shirt.

(Welp now I wanna write a fic about Cowboy Pillows)

[delopsia]

Overheard someone muttering about flu season earlier and it really got me thinking about the differences between you and Rhett getting sick.

When Rhett is sick, you don't have the slightest clue about it until after he comes home from work. A lot of it has to do with the fact that his brain doesn't start working until he's in the truck and halfway to the ranch, and by that point, he's already out, dressed, and wide awake.

To him, it doesn't make sense to turn around and go home, so he just does what he's always done and sucks it up. Chugging through stomach aches, fevers, sinus headaches, sneezing fits, nausea. Unless he feels like the two-hour drive to the hospital is necessary, he's working through it.

You'll be lounging on the couch at the end of the day, and all of a sudden, the embodiment of death walks through the front door. Rhett doesn't get sick often, but when he does, it's bad. Eyes glazed over, nose red, voice long gone, coughing through his attempts to tell you he's fine.

If you somehow catch onto him being sick before he leaves in the morning, then getting him to stay and lay back down is a goddamn battle, but in the afternoon, he's so worn down that all it takes is one little tug of the arm.

He's snuggly as can be when he's like this, and as cute as it is, you've got to be careful because once those arms are around you, you're trapped. Especially if he's managed to rest his head against your chest or belly; nothing short of begging and bribery will set you free.

Rhett's not incompetent; he'll try to look after himself when he's sick, but he's...not very good at it. He'll scrounge up medicine from the cabinets and nibble on crackers, but there's room for improvement.

If you want to fuss over him, feed him different medicines in hopes of finding one that works, and cook him meals, then you absolutely can, but he'll never ask or pressure you into doing it. The most he usually does is ask you to play with his hair or to just lay with him for a little bit.

Weirdly, his horse even seems to know when he's sick. She starts doing this thing where she'll try directing them back to the barn, and on the days when he's particularly out of it, she's gotten him all the way there. The going theory is that it's because she knows he'll brush her and feed her treats until he feels like standing, but Rhett just thinks she's being sweet on him.

When you're sick, Rhett does his best to take care of you in the only way he knows how. If you wake up ill and insist on going to work, then he's not going to stop you unless he's genuinely concerned about you being left alone.

He doesn't force you into anything; he knows full well how aggravating that can be and that you're an adult who can make their own decisions. With the nature of his job, he's all too familiar with not being able to call out, and the last thing you'll want to hear is him fussing at you on top of you feeling horrible. But don't get surprised when he moseys up behind you and starts kissing on your cheek, asking if you're really sure.

Regardless of whether you go or stay home, if it's a weekday, then he usually can't stay and look after you (blame the cows), but he'll text, call, and pull a few favors to be home earlier than usual. Always armed with a little grocery bag full of medicines that he knows you prefer, your favorite snacks, a stuffed animal, and a can of precautionary soup.

(Read: You both got horribly sick during a blizzard and decided soup was the best option for dinner. Only for both of you to learn that there were no ingredients to make it from scratch and that the can in the back corner of the cabinet had expired two years prior.)

If you want something homemade, then...he will try his best. Rhett has better luck with eight seconds on a bull than he does in the kitchen, and fires are a commonality, but the whole ordeal usually ends in something edible. It may not be as good as when you make it, but hey, maybe it only tastes different because you're sick.

One thing Rhett's really good at, though, is distraction. One of the worst parts about being sick is being constantly aware that you feel terrible. Movies, long drives in his truck, cuddling under a dozen blankets while he traces shapes into your skin, long baths. He can always find a way to distract you, even if that means he spends half the night telling you about rodeo nights and things that have gone horribly wrong on the farm.

Regardless of who is sick, though, one thing is consistent, and that's Cecelia! One phone call is all it takes, and that's assuming she hasn't already caught wind of what's going on.

If you live close enough, she's always offering to bring homemade chicken soup, local honey, and teas. Is there anything you need her to bring? Anything she should pick up from the grocery store on her way over? She's not one to overstay her welcome, but do expect her to offer to bring over part of dinner tomorrow so that neither of you have to worry about cooking.

But if you don't live within driving distance, she's always got a few remedies or soup recipes that she can walk one of you through. For as busy as she is, one of her biggest things is being able to just be there to talk or be a comforting presence, even if you don't have anything to say.

[bradshawsbaby]

Ohhhhh I gotta tell you that Rhett + "come here.  I'm taking care of you tonight.  and you’re gonna let me" = absolute perfection!!! 🥹

I love it! 🥹 And I don’t know why, but this just screamed Nurse!Reader to me, so that’s what we’re going with!

You were honestly shocked you had managed to get yourself home without driving your truck off the road or getting into an accident. If you really thought long and hard about it, it was probably grossly irresponsible of you to get behind the wheel of a car considering how exhausted you were. But at the same time, you knew that if you didn’t get out of the hospital the very minute your shift ended, you were going to lose your mind.

Every time you worked a double shift, you swore it would be the last time. And yet here you were again, suckered into picking up an extra shift for a co-worker who almost certainly would never return the favor. Sixteen never-ending hours in the ER.

Rhett wasn’t happy about it. When you’d gone to kiss him goodbye, clad in the same scrubs you were wearing now, he’d grumbled about how you needed to “stop being so generous to those lazy bastards who take advantage of you.”

You just hoped he wasn’t still upset about it. Every part of your body ached, and all you wanted was a nice, hot shower and the longest sleep of your life. Preferably with your grumpy cowboy’s arms wrapped around you.

Stumbling up the drive, you fumbled around in your pocket for your keys, barely able to keep your eyes open or place one foot in front of the other. Before you even made it to the bottom step, Rhett was opening the front door, the warmth of your shared home wrapping around you like a comforting hug.

“C’mere,” he murmured soothingly, rushing down the stairs to meet you and wrapping a secure arm around your waist. “Look at you, darlin’. Damn near dead on your feet.” He shook his head as he guided you up the stairs and into the house.

“Just a little tired is all,” you yawned, wanting to collapse into his arms, but trying not to show it. When you bent down to untie your sneakers, Rhett stopped you with a hand on your arm, squatting down to unlace them for you.

“Uh-uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight. And you’re gonna let me,” he insisted, his blue eyes twinkling with concealed amusement as he looked up at you. “You’ve done enough takin’ care of everybody else.”

You were so exhausted that you didn’t even argue as he lifted you up into his arms and carried you off to the bathroom, where he stripped you out of your grimy scrubs and helped you into the shower, washing your hair and massaging your sore back with his strong fingers. By the time he got you dressed in one of his T-shirts and brushed your hair, you were already fast asleep, mouth hanging open as he pulled the blankets over you.

Rhett chuckled, crawling into bed beside you and taking you into his arms, his lips pressed against your neck. “G’night, my darlin’.”

soft(ish) angst prompts

[0mg-bird]

Oh, wait, wait! I thought of one!! Can I please get reader and Rhett getting freaky because they think his house is empty, but... it's not actually empty?? 👀😅

I laughed out loud because this is such a funny plot.

Caught ~ Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ themes, mature content below.

The radio’s low, the truck engine rumbles, and you’re sitting in the middle of the bench seat, head on Rhett’s shoulder.

Coming back from the movie in town, the two of you sat in a fine silence as the truck bumped along towards the ranch. The idea of lunch was good, but it wasn’t the only thought in your head.

He smelled great, and the heat of his hand on your knee had you crossing your ankles. He hadn’t done anything really, just kissed you a little harder when he picked you up earlier and his hand slipped down to your ass when you waited in line to get the movie tickets.

Now, he sat looking perfectly too good, talking about lunch.

You don’t miss the way his hand slips a little further up, laying perfectly on the inside of your thigh. It’s a small sound you let out, it’s barely audible, but Rhett glances down at you as his smirk grows.

“What is it?” He asks innocently, making you glare.

Not amused by his smug look, your own hand makes a move across his thigh, darting straight below his belt buckle.

He jolts, the truck sways back and forth for a moment and you laugh.

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill us, baby.” He breathes.

You lean up to his ear and whisper. “It’s not nice to tease, is it?”

Swallowing, he finds it as more of a challenge than anything. His hand completely disappears under the skirt of your dress and between your thighs, his fingers slowly rubbing you over your underwear.

The breath you let out now is significantly louder. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hum out.

“Fuck.” Rhett curses, adjusting in his seat, causing his growing erection to rub against your palm. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel as you palm him over his jeans.

Lunch is definitely forgotten about.

By some miracle, the two of you pull into the drive in one piece, despite his speed.

The two of you pause and look at the vacant space. No other trucks were around.

Immediately, Rhett is unbuckling the both of you and dragging you out of the truck. As he pushes you against the cab door, you try to get words out as he’s kissing you with a feverish hunger.

“Are you- mm- are you sure no one’s home?” You pant, hands on his shoulders.

“The trucks are gone, it’s our lucky day.” He chuckles lowly, gripping your ass before letting you move.

The two of you stumble to the door, trying to walk and kiss each other at the same time isn’t easy.

After fumbling with the door knob, the two of you get inside and listen to the utter quietness.

Rhett’s pulling you into the living room, too impatient to get up the stairs to his bedroom.

You knock the cowboy hat off his head, rushing your shaky fingers through his hair. You walk him backwards until he hits the couch and sits, spreading his legs and pushing his hips out before tugging you on top of him.

Straddling him, you smile. “I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already hard.”

He grips your hips and sinks you down, dragging you against his tight jeans. “You could just look at me and I’ll get hard, sweetheart, it doesn’t take much.” He says before sucking at your neck.

Your head falls back to give him better access, your bucking against him on your own accord as you feel the warmth of his tongue and lips.

“I want you so much.” You pant, pulling the snaps of his shirt open.

Manic hands smooth across his chest as you push him to lay against the back of the couch. You trail your hand down the muscles of his stomach that flex under your touch, then you slide back to give yourself more room to unbuckle his belt. Rhett watches your actions, utterly aching against the material of his constricting jeans. He helps you push both the jeans and his boxers down, desperate for the way you wrap your soft hand around his sprung erection.

He groans at the relief, but isn’t satisfied. “Please, just let me be inside you.” He pants, pulling you closer.

“That’s what you want? You want to fuck me, Rhett?” You question dumbly.

He eyes you dark and hungrily, then he’s flipping the two of you over, pressing your back into the couch cushions. Wasting no time, he’s yanking your pretty panties down your legs and spreading you open.

So caught up in each other, Rhett pushes into you without one single thought of doubt. Tongue in your mouth, your legs wrapped around him, he’s more focused on the way your walls are tight around him than the sound that comes from upstairs.

You gasp and pull away, concern written on your face. “Did you hear that?” You pant out, his thrusts not stopping.

“The house is old, it creaks.” He tells you.

You nod, softly moaning into his mouth as he hits a perfect spot inside you. You hold onto the back of his head, focusing directly on the look in his heavy eyes.

That’s why when Perry comes down the stairs and turns into the living room, the two of you don’t notice right away.

Perry does.

“What the fuck!” He shouts, staring straight at Rhett who snaps his head up.

You yelp out, immediately mortified as you sink down so the arm of the couch hides you.

“Perry.” Rhett breathes, not sure exactly what to do. “What-what’re you doin’ here?”

“What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?” He argues, trying to look anywhere else as the two of you right yourselves and fix your clothes.

Rhett pulls his jeans back up. “Sorry we just…I could’ve sworn no one was home.”

“My trucks in the shop.” Perry explains.

You hide your face in your hands, then stand to pull your boots back on. “I’m sorry I should…bye, Perry.” You immediately rush out of the door.

Rhett chases after you, finding you already in the truck. “Baby I…” He can’t even get a sentence out before he’s laughing.

You hit his shoulder. “That was not funny, Rhett! Drive me home.” You panic, red in the face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t finish.”

“I’m never having sex with you again.”