#outer range fic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With Rhett, right now, it felt complete. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wyatt shrugged. “Sure.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

Another fight at school that left Linda furious.

But Tessa just felt some heavy weight in her chest.

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

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

“Wan’some ibuprofen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought back to Rhett Abbott, her cheeks warming. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And stuffed it into her closet.

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[sebsxphia]

your (my) life with rhett abbott.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ summary: a life with rhett.

￫ word count: 680.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vivwritesfics]

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

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

The fic

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

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

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

She was gonna throw up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fishfooddude]

Cowboy Hat

Rhett meets your friends, and you learn about the rules surrounding a man's hat.

Outer Range MasterList

Directory

“So we’re meeting this Rhett guy?” your friend Valerie asked as you waited in the bar that night for both Rhett and a couple of your other friends. You nodded, looking down at your phone to see if Rhett had arrived. “So he’s a bull rider?” she asked. You nodded again.

You liked Rhett. The two of you had been casually dating for the past couple of months, and tonight was the night you introduced him to your best friends, Valerie and Erica. Valerie was the first one there, as always, so she was grilling you about who ‘this Rhett guy’ was. You and Rhett weren’t officially dating, but after casually hanging out for a couple of months, it was time to evaluate if he was worth pursuing more seriously. 

“Hey! Am I late?” Erica asked as she sat down next to Valerie. Valerie shook her head, “Rhett isn’t even here yet.” she playfully judged. You rolled your eyes at the comment, “He’s on the way.” you clarified, taking a sip from your drink. “Did you know he had a DUI?” Erica asked casually as she waved at a guy she knew on the other side of the bar. 

You laughed, “Yes. I do. We do talk to each other.” The three of you sat and chatted casually. Each of you were a couple of drinks in when Rhett arrived. You waved him over, and he grinned in your direction before coming over.

“Hey,” you smiled at him as he sat next to you casually, putting his arm around your shoulders. He squeezed your shoulder as a greeting, and you started the introduction: “Okay, Rhett, this is Erica, and that’s Valerie. Erica is basically my sister—our moms were best friends and coincidentally got pregnant at the same time. Valerie was my roommate in undergrad, and I just can’t shake her.” Your introductions were met with an eye roll from Valerie and a nod from Erica. “Okay. interrogate.” 

Rhett sat back and answered every question the two of them could come up with. “How about I get you ladies some drinks?” he offered, hoping to get off the topic of his prior sexual relationships. Valerie side-eyed him and watched as he exited the booth, “Didn’t scare ya away, did we Rhett?” Erica challenged, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You nudged her from the other side of the table. “I’ll come with you, Rhett.” You laughed, sliding out of the booth and lacing your fingers in his before he tugged you slightly toward the counter. “Your friends are…” Rhett started before he scratched at the back of his neck nervously. You met his hesitation with a laugh, “I know, Rhett. They’re a lot, but it comes from a place of love for me.” 

Before Rhett could retort, he felt his hat being removed from his head. He turned his head to see a short blonde woman he’d never seen before on her tiptoes, grabbing at his hat. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His gaze shifted to you, and he saw a pensive look on your face. Rhett grunted and moved his head away from the woman, “I’m spoken for.” he said, taking his hat off and placing it on your head. Rhett turned and pulled you away from the woman. You felt the corners of your lips perk up at the action. You stumbled over yourself and slightly fell into Rhett’s side. He noticed and put his arm around your shoulders again, “You okay, pretty girl?” he asked softly. You nodded and put an arm around his waist, “Yeah- yeah, I’m okay.” you confirmed.

[creatchie8]

Rodeo Queen

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

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Rodeo Queen!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 5,000ish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup.” 

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

-

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

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

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

His control is way off.

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

Fourteen for the bull, sixteen for Rhett. 

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

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

- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have the qualifications to judge?”

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

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

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

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

Sweetheart? 

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

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

Then something happens, and you swear you might be hallucinating. In Rhett’s clearly drunken state, you could've sworn the side of his lip twitched up in a smirk. It only lasts a second and you chalk it up to the dim bar light. It still makes an odd ache between your legs, realizing you two had been sharing breath and his eyes were fixed on your lips. 

Not wanting to waste a good night on an ignorant man, you step away and call over your shoulder, “And if I remember correctly, you still made qualifiers. So I'll see you tomorrow, Rhett.”

-

And you did see Rhett that next night, it was almost like he made sure of it too. 

He just so happened to be right near the entrance gate when you were mounting Merlot for the opening ceremony, chatting with who you assumed to be his friend. 

Rhett tipped his hat forward in a greeting, pulling a glare out of you. And now you have to listen to your sister gush about ‘that mysterious man’ and how pretty he was right up until you galloped away into the ring. 

Pretty fucking annoying. You think to yourself, and stew for the rest of the evening. 

You don't dare say a word to David when you join him to judge, now hyper aware of every time he looks over at your paper. Not that you cared at this point, tomorrow you would be driving back to Idaho never to think about Wabang and its residents ever again. 

Taking a deep breath as you hear Rhett’s name get called, you bite the inside of your cheek as he slides into the chute. The bull thrashes once, the sharp bang echoing through the arena, not even giving Rhett enough time to tie himself on. 

Out of the gate he looks better, maybe he actually listened to all the things you told him last night. He’s stiffer though, which does help him keep his feet by the bull’s shoulders but it interferes with his rhythm. He was too focused on staying upright, causing him to not be able to move with the bull. 

The bell sounds and he falls, feet slipping on the dirt as he tries to get away. 

He was significantly better than last time, but far from perfect. 

Sixteen for the bull, eighteen for Rhett.

Curious, you look over at David’s sheet. A twenty-one and twenty-two, which makes a total of seventy-seven. You don't even bother watching him find out what his score is, you just arrange your papers and get ready for the next guy. 

-

You're fiddling with the generator outside your trailer when you hear your name called out behind you. Getting up, you brush the dust off your jeans before turning around and locking eyes with the last person you want to see. 

“So you finally figured out my name, huh?” You ask and kneel back down to the generator, praying he leaves. You hear his boots move closer to you, stopping inches away from your crouched form. There was hardly anyone still here, most of them out celebrating or sleeping in their trailers. 

“Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. My momma raised me better than that.” Rhett admitted softly, “A couple of us are headed to the bar in a little and I was wonderin’ if you'd join us?”

“Thanks, but I doubt I’m welcome. I reckon David has told everyone how badly I fucked them by now.” You huff, and Rhett’s silence is all you need to hear. 

 Standing up and turning around, you stumble back with how close Rhett is, narrowly bumping right into his chest. You cross your arms and notice that he’s just in his button up, striped and blue, he looks infuriatingly good. 

“Have you also come to question me about your score?” You ask, it's cold enough that your breath creates steam in the nighttime air. 

“What? No I- I came here to apologize.” He furrows his brows, shoving his hands in his pockets. His admission to defeat makes you huff in annoyance. 

“Really? You're not the tiniest bit curious why I scored you the way I did?” You pressed. 

“Okay well maybe I am. But that was an afterthought to the apolo-” Rhett starts, taking off his cowboy hat and running his fingers through his hair. Hair that you wanted to touch, hair that you desired to feel the texture of. 

“You were too stiff this time. Yes, your legs were up which earned you some points but it's not all about that.” You interrupt, gesturing to the arena, “Now, because of your vest I couldn't tell if it was mostly in your stomach or back, but-” 

“Oh so you're the expert now?” Rhett grumbled, looking to the sky. 

“Yes, actually, I kinda am. You have to be more than a pretty face to win a Rodeo Queen title.” That same funny feeling leaped into your throat as you argued with him. And although you were outside, it felt as if the atmosphere was shrinking even though you had all the room in the world to back away. 

“I’d like to see you ride a bull then.” 

“Oh trust me, I can ride a bull.” You quipped, turning away and walking towards the stairs to your trailer. But before you could climb the first step, a strong hand grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you back. You make a soft umph sound as you hit his chest, and the next thing you know his warm lips crash against yours. 

It was a sharp contrast to the cold outside, the heat increasing as you kissed him back, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him in. Rhett walks you backwards so your body connects with the side of the trailer, the freezing metal zipping through your decorative button up. The sudden temperature change draws a whine from your chest, only halfway emerged before Rhett swallows it up, his hands pulling your waist in close. 

You pull away for just a moment, Rhett now kissing your jaw and nearing your neck, “Inside-” Is all you manage to get out before he’s biting at your neck, his cowboy hat knocked off his head and now resting on the ground. 

Pushing him away, you bite your lip. Although your red lipstick said it was smudge proof, it somehow ended up leaving a light sheen of pink smeared over his mouth. He follows you inside, tossing his cowboy hat on the couch as you lock the door. 

“Wait, isn't your sister staying here too?” He asks in a hushed voice, as if she could jump out at any moment.

“Yeah, but she’s out.” Is all you can say before crossing the short distance between you two and kissing him again. It doesn't take long to get you both out of clothes, your pearl snaps coming undone easily to reveal your lace balconette bra, your jeans already unzipped by Rhett’s wandering hands by the time you pushed open his own shirt.

You were mesmerized by his bareness, Rhett’s torso perfectly displaying softness and pure muscle. Your stomach flips as you look down to the bulge in his blue jeans. Catching his hands trying to pull your own jeans over the swell of your ass, you take him to the small bedroom, if you could call it that. 

You push him to sit on the bed, sheets still messed up from this morning. Stepping back, you push your jeans down, kicking them and your boots behind you. Rhett impulsively reaches out, hooking a finger into your thong before you smack his hand away. 

“No touching.” You chide, watching him nod like a big, dumb puppy. His obedience causes the inside of your thighs to tingle, his eyes almost looking sorrowful as you reach behind yourself and unhook your bra, tossing it to join your jeans. 

In just socks and panties, you step between his jean-clad thighs, running your fingers through his hair and kissing him. He tentatively touches his fingertips to your sides, so light you could barely feel them. They inched their way up your body before stopping before your breasts, pausing for a moment then swiping his thumbs boldly over the underside of them. 

Catching his wrists, you push his hands down and away from you, halting your kisses. 

“What did I say about no touching, Rhett?” You firmly scold, watching his eyes widen  and his cheeks grow impossibly redder, the flush continuing down to his chest. 

“Take off your pants.” You command and let him go, watching as he jumps up and kicks off his boots, nearly tearing off his pants and boxers. His cock slapped against his lower stomach, the thick head a deep purple with the lack of attention. You start to wonder how far you can take this, break down this cowboy you hardly know.

“Get to your knees.” You say simply, watching as Rhett pauses only for a moment before dropping with a soft thud to the linoleum. His nose is basically touching the fabric of your thong, his warm breath fanning over you. Dropping your panties you tangle a fist in his hair and spread your legs a bit, pushing his face closer. 

It doesn't take much convincing before his hands are on your thighs, urging them further apart. His tongue parts you with ease, a moan already rattling in your lungs. He laps at you like a man starved, stubble chafing your inner thighs as his brow furrows in concentration. 

With his eyes closed you can see a few small freckles marking his eyelids, though you only notice it for a second until he sucks your clit in his mouth, your vision going blurry. It doesn't take long till you are pulling him away by his hair, a string of drool connecting his mouth to you as he parts. You don't even notice how bad your legs are shaking till he loosens his grasp on them. 

Your hand cups his jaw, thumb running over his swollen pink lips before you nod to the bed, unable to speak. He clambers up to the bed, his knees popping as he stands. Crawling over his naked body, you straddle his narrow hips and pin his hands above his head, kissing down his neck. You suck a sneaky bruise under his collarbone, feeling him wiggle under you. 

Looking up, you try to find something to restrain him with. The only thing nearby is your sweater resting on a pillow, and surely that won't do. Then you remember a certain something hanging from the wall behind you. 

Getting up and snatching it from a nail in the wall, you return to your earlier position with your silky white sash in hand. Rhett looks up at his hands as you tie them together with the fabric. And you know your sister will be screaming about it later but you really can't find the mindset to even care right now. 

Gently, you trail your manicured fingernails down his wrists and then his biceps, all the way down to his chest and torso till you wrap a hand around his thick cock, smearing the head through your dripping folds. You can feel his breathing quicken as you lean down to whisper in his ear.

“I'll show you how to ride a bull.”

And his gasp when you sink down will forever be one of the sweetest noises you will ever hear. His fists clench as you lower yourself slowly, your nails biting into his ribs. You pant till you're lightheaded, the stretch almost too much. Fully seated, you let your head fall back and a long whine escaped your throat. No matter how many times you blink, it’s still blurry, the ceiling nothing but a flat plane of color. 

“God- you’resofuckin’beautiful-” Rhett praises you in one breath, his muscles getting twitchier the longer you wait to move. You grind down on him, his pubic hair just the right amount of friction to rub your swollen clit on. 

Lolling your head back up, you bite your lip, raising yourself up a few centimeters before dropping back down, testing the waters. The sting is glorious and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Rhett struggles against the sash, clenching and unclenching his fists as you tentatively ride him. The cursive letters are all wonky, pulled tight against his wrists. You could bet money the tip of his dick was pressing hard against your cervix as you struggled to take him whole. 

You can already feel sweat gathering in the pits of your knees, a sheen covering Rhett’s flushed chest as he panted and groaned, begging for more. The drag of his cock filled you to the brim, making you unable to take a breath when you were fully seated. You move your hands to his chest, thumbs brushing over his pink nipples before leaning down and sucking one into your mouth, pinching the other. 

“Please darlin’ I- ohh…” Rhett whimpered, skin stretched thin over his chest and showing his ribs and he squirmed under your touch. His pleading tone made your pussy clench, a swell of ecstasy shooting you right in the chest.  

You take pity on him, sitting up and quickening your pace as you steady yourself on his chest. The bed rattles under your motion, the mattress squeaking with effort. You can feel his hips canting upwards in an attempt to meet yours. 

Slowing, you lean back and plant your hands firmly on his thighs behind you. The new change in position already has you keening, the head of his dick pressing into something that causes stars to burst behind your eyelids. A spot that you could never quite reach with your fingers  when you were masturbating, a spot that has you choked up and gasping as you ride him. 

Riding him recklessly, you feel a familiar pressure build in your lower half. You steady yourself on one hand, the other massaging your clit to bring you closer and closer. The two of you have locked eyes, half-lidded yes, but all you need to communicate as words die on your tongue. Your cheeks are burning, hair sticking to your forehead while beads of sweat run down your spine. 

“Rh-Rhett… I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” You start, lips tingling as you fail to finish your thought. He was already nodding, a fist grasping at the pillow above him and you genuinely thought he was going to shred it. 

The balloon inside you pops violently, so much so it has you bordering on dizzy and sick. A wet gush dampens your inner thighs and all of Rhett’s lower stomach, the frantic slapping of his hips on your ass turns increasingly wetter. It takes everything in you to hold yourself upright, gasping for air as your vision tunes in and out. 

Catching yourself on his chest as you fall forward, he lifts his thighs and pounds into you like a jackhammer. Faintly you can hear him crying out your name like a prayer, as if it would be the only thing that could save him. His motions grow sloppy till he stops, the feeling of his hot cum pumping into you like a mini orgasm and zapping you back to life. 

Your throat was sore from crying out, nose burning from hyperventilation. Placing soft kisses on Rhett’s warm neck, you blindly reach up and somehow untie him. His wrists are red and bordering on raw from struggling. The fabric is wrecked and stretched thin, the letters no longer spelling out your status. 

It gets thrown off the bed in exchange for kisses from Rhett. With his hands finally free he cups your breasts and gently tweaks your nipples, smiling against your mouth when you whimper. 

“Don't leave for the bar.” You murmur against his plush lips, his cock still inside your cum-filled pussy.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He mumbles in return, rough hands smoothing down your bare back and making you shiver. 

Maybe you will return to Wabang after all. 

[withahappyrefrain]

8 or 58 for Bob or Rhett! ❤️💕

Thanks!! The list is excellent.

I went with number 8 for Rhett!

Rhett didn’t know why his mother insisted on getting a dog. It wasn’t as if they didn’t already have several ranching dogs. 

“It’s different! They essentially work for the ranch, they’re not a pet.”

So he wasn’t surprised when Ceceila brought home a cocker spaniel puppy. She would never go for a rescue, which is what Rhett wanted (as if he had a say). 

And Rhett certainly didn't have a say when it came to taking care of Bella. As the puppy grew, so did Rhett’s responsibilities. Amy lost interest when the dog was no longer puppy sized, and Cecilia got more involved in the church as a way to deal with the shitshow that was her eldest son. 

Which is how Rhett found himself driving Bella to the dog park. Because when the only shit to do is drink and watch bull rides, Wabang lost their minds over the new pet friendly park that was thirty minutes away. 

“Is it that important she goes?” Rhett mumbled when Cecilia told him of his new afternoon plans. 

“Of course! She has friends Rhett. And Bella will be so sad if she doesn't see her friends, won't you, pretty girl?” she cooed to Bella, who was currently sitting on the couch despite Royal saying that's exactly where he didn't want the dog to sit. 

But it was nice to break the monotony of his day. Plus, it meant going to the outskirts of Cheyenne, which was still more developed than Wabang. Hell, he could even stop by Taco Bell on the way back, a rare treat. Bella could have a bowl of their potatoes, just without all that fake cheese sauce. His ma would kill him if she found out she let Bella eat such ‘trash food’, as if her cooking was any better. 

So there he was, making his way towards the enclosed area, Bella tugging away. 

“Hey, quit it!” He grunted, already regretting this. Rhett had half a mind to just go to Taco Bell now but then Bella let out that whine, the one that tugged on Rhett’s heartstrings. 

He wasn't a monster, despite what folks insisted. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll go in. But just for a little bit and you better behave yerself,” Rhett instructed before opening the gate. 

Bella trotted in, immediately going up to several dogs to sniff. 

Rhett found himself a corner where he could keep an eye on the dog, but was away from other people. He felt out of place with his hand me downed Caharrat jacket and worn boots. There were several people in the park who he found cute, but like hell if he was going to go up and talk to them. 

After Maria left for the second time, Rhett imposed a ban on dating. At least for a while. After all, there’s only so many times a cowboy can try his best and get his heart broken in the end. 

So instead, he watched Bella, who had now found herself a friend. Out of all the dogs in the park, Rhett found this one to be the cutest; caramel color coat with black fur surrounded their nose, expressive ears that were just a little too big for their body and a tail that went one hundred smiles per hour. Had to be some type of pitt mix, given their bicycle seat shaped head, which was perfect for pets. That was the kind of dog Rhett would want. 

Bella seemed just as interested as Rhett, walking with the dog. Well, actually, more like following. He saw the other dog continuing to look back, seeing if Bella was still there. 

“Hey Bella, quit it!” Rhett grumbled. Not that she listened. Great. His first time here and Bella was going to get them kicked out. 

“C’mon Bella,” Rhett walked over to his mother’s dog, hoping he could just pick her up and take her home. 

But the other dog had different plans. As soon as they saw Rhett, their tail wagged furiously as they came up to him, practically begging for pets. 

Rhett Abbott was not a monster.

“Hey sweet girl,” He kneeled down, allowing the dog to seat themselves in between Rhett’s legs, “Is Bella bothering you? You want me to tell her to stop?”

The dog put his front paws up on Rhett’s thigh, gaining access to his face. Her breath wasn’t the greatest, but with a face like that, how could he be mad?

“I swear, she comes here for the people, not the dogs,” A sweet voice said. 

Rhett looked up, only to have his breath taken away by you. You, who were without a doubt, the sweetest person Rhett had ever seen. 

“Hey Bella girl!” You cooed, kneeling down to give Bella some pets, “I know you want to play, but Noodle is a covid puppy. She just wants pets.” 

“Well, Bella needs to learn how to listen. Least she could do,” Rhett replied as he continued to pet Noodle, who was determined to lick the side of Rhett’s face. 

“You must be one of Cecelia's sons?” Oh god. What had Cecelia already told you? His chances were already ruined before he could even start. 

“Uh yeah. ‘M Rhett,” he reached out to shake your hand, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt. 

“Oh! The bull rider!” You exclaimed. If that was all Cecelia had told you, Rhett was never going to complain (out loud) about his mother’s cooking ever again. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” He barely got out, his cheeks heating up. 

“I also hear you’re the best Uncle to Amy,” there was a grin on your face, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Well, I’m her only Uncle,” Rhett mumbled, failing to realize the joke. 

Luckily you found it pretty cute. Along with the way he was so loving and gentle towards your dog. 

“It’s okay if Bella continues following Noodle around. Noodle doesn’t mind, especially if it’ll help her get more pets,” you assured, gently squeezing Rhett’s hand to remind him to let go.

“The spot I was in has a good view of the whole dog park….if you want me to keep an eye on them.” Why would you want to stand next to him, God, he was so stupid and-

“I would love to join you, if that’s alright!”

Oh. 

[seeyalaterinnovator]

The Halocline - Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Reader gets roughed up a bit, Rhett comforts her

Warnings: reader is the victim of violence, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of a panic attack, no spoilers for outer range

Word count: 1.9K

Authors note: My friend sent my a requests with rhett abbott saying "Hey, just look at me. Breathe." ... I shamefully finally got around to it.. so here we are...

Keep reading below the cut

The cool Wyoming night air brushed against your exposed skin, each step carrying you closer to the Abbott house. Certainly someone was here, if not Rhett, since he wasn’t answering his phone. You prayed he was just asleep or his phone had died, and that’s why he wasn’t answering any of your calls. The porch groaned under your feet when you hobbled up the steps, up toward the door. 

You knocked once. No answer. It was late, late enough that most of the house would likely be asleep by now, having to get up early tomorrow for chores around the ranch. Cecilia was a light sleeper though, that you could count on. So you knocked again, this time with a little more force. Still no answer.

“C’mon, Rhett!” You cried, voice hoarse from the sobs that wracked your body earlier, raw from screaming for any kind of help that never came. 

Your fist pounded desperately against the screen door, the tinny noise echoed into the open air and died off in the howling wind. There was always someone in the Abbott house, of course except when you needed them the most. “Shit.” You mutter under your breath.

Goosebumps rose along the flesh of your arms, the reddened welts from earlier burning as you sucked in a deep breath and tried to figure out your next move. Tears welled in your eyes as a hopeless feeling settled deep in your chest, but you refused to let them fall, not until you were somewhere safe again. Trembling, torn up hands reach up to scrub at your face as you turned toward the barn. 

You noticed a faint yellow light flickering through the cracked barn door, likely forgotten by someone earlier. It wasn’t the comforting embrace of Rhett, but it would have to do. The barn was far better than trying to walk back to the pit bar to get your car and risk running into Trevor again. God knows what he would try this time. Maybe if you were lucky one of the Abbotts would find you here in the morning when they started their morning chores around the ranch. 

So with a grunt, you slowly made your way over to the barn where you would hopefully hide out amongst the bails of hay. Your footsteps were heavy, weighed down with exhaustion as you crossed into the barn, the dusty smell of hay and motor oil hitting your nose. To your surprise, a familiar form was hunched over the back workbench, a white cowboy hat hiding a head full of sandy brown hair. You nearly could have collapsed from relief.

“Rhett?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. 

“Sweetheart- what are you doin’ out here so late?” Rhett inquired, turning as he wiped his oil covered hands on an old rag. 

Stood in place, you couldn’t muster the strength to step any further into the light, to expose yourself to the careful scrutiny of his deep blue gaze. The sweet, lopsided smile that pulled at Rhett’s thin lips was discarded quickly, the tattered rag left on the dirt floor when he noticed the tear stained sheen on your cheeks. “Sweetheart? What happened?” His voice was heavier this time.

“I-..” All the air in your lungs dried up, leaving your chest deflated and empty. Paralyzed, your panicked gaze met his as you tried to choke in a breath. No air came though. Rhett saw your chest spasm with the effort of trying to suck in air. Quick to action, his booted feet carried him over to where you stood, though dread took pooled heavily in his gut.

“Jesus-” He gasped, his warm breath puffing out against your battered face. The first thing he noticed now that he was closer was the gash that marred your forehead, a steady trickle of blood trailed down the side of your temple and down your cheek. The second thing he noticed was the smattering of dark splotches that shadowed your skin, likely to be deep purple bruises by the morning. The third thing he noticed was you were without the sweater you always had on at this time of year. The neckline of your shirt was torn, seams ripped and stained crimson. You trembled in your spot, still frozen in place, skin peaked as shivers wracked your body. 

Rhett was quick to shuck off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders and tuck you into the warm fabric. His large, steady hands ran along the length of your arms, trying to rid you of the constant shivering. “Honey- who did this to you?” He kept his tone level, despite the anger that welled up inside him. 

You tried to answer, mouth opening around the Tillerson boy’s name, but all that came was a strained croak. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, burning as they rolled past the areas of broken skin. Hiccups soon took over, and breathing grew even harder. “Oh god!” You say between cries, grabbing a fist of hair and tugging at it hard enough that pain pricked your scalp. Anything to distract you from this drowning feeling that resided heavy in your chest.

With as much tender care as he could, Rhett grabbed a hold of your wrists and detangled your vice grip from your hair. His warm hands came to rest on your flushed cheeks, careful to avoid any area that looked cracked open. His touch was firm and steady as he squeezed just enough, holding your head steady and in line with his. “Hey..” He loosed a breath, barely a whisper as he searched your eyes.

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.” He instructed in a collected manner, held you steady in his grasp despite thrashing like a bull against his hold. “Sweetheart, breathe for me. You can do it.” Wild eyes met his, and for the first time that night you finally felt safe. At first, your breaths came in frantic puffs, but you focused on trying to force the air from your lungs and exchange it for new air, inhaling deeply and blowing it out on a steady controlled exhale. 

“That’s it, good job. Keep goin’.”He encouraged, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, despite the dried blood that flaked against your skin. 

You stayed like that for a while, breathing in and out, until Rhett was satisfied that you weren’t going to pass out on him from a lack of air. Now that the adrenaline had eddied away,  your head throbbed in time with your bounding heartbeat. You winced, shying away from the light once again. “Rhett I-”

“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up, okay?” 

There was no fight left, so you allowed Rhett to guide you into the house and up the rickety steps to the first clearing, where his room was. His hand stayed put on your low back, a calming presence as he pushed you into the threshold of his room and shut the door, careful not to wake anyone as it creaked shut. 

First he pulled off his jacket from your shoulders, blue eyes roaming over your skin. Now that he was in better light, he could see the large welts that covered your arms, and how your shirt was ripped in more than one place. His lips pressed together to keep the questions at bay, now wasn’t the time for an interrogation. He needed to get you patched up and in bed. 

“Come on.” He spoke softly as he took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips before he tugged you toward the bathroom. 

You hovered awkwardly in the doorway, unsure what to do with yourself. That was okay, Rhett knew what to do - probably better than anyone else in this house. His hands peeled away your tattered shirt and tossed it aside. He helped you sit on the countertop before turning on the faucet. The sound of the water filling up the sink was the only noise as you watched him rummage through the closet in search of the well used first aid kit. Rhett made quick work, using a pack of gauze to clean up your forehead so he could assess the damage. He didn’t think you’d need stitches, but he held pressure for good measure. You sucked in a breath, trying to back away from his hand. He muttered a soft sorry while he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to your forehead. 

“I was at the pit bar.” You mumbled, averting your gaze to your hands which gripped your thighs tightly. “I was just on my way out when Trever Tillerson wouldn’t let me past.” 

The words were heavy on your tongue, like you didn’t quite have the right words to say. Rhett didn’t stop cleaning your wound, needed to keep his hands moving so he didn’t do something stupid like track Trever down and kill him. You knew he was listening though. A muscle in his jaw ticked when you mentioned the name, he knew what kind of reputation Trever had.  “I tried to push past him, told him I wasn’t in the mood for his antics tonight. He didn’t like that.” The tears came softer this time, only rolling down your flushed cheek when you squeezed your eyes shut. “No one else was around, I tried calling out. He-”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. Not right now.” 

“Thank you.” You sighed. 

Rhett finished cleaning your wound in silence, placing an antibiotic ointment over the open part and smoothed a bandaid over the broken skin. His hands firmly grabbed your hips and helped you off the counter, led you back into the bedroom. He grabbed one of his old t-shirts, knowing how much you liked to sleep in them. 

“Arms up.” He instructed, sliding the tshirt over your head and helped you slide your arms through the holes. He then knelt down before you, sliding off your jeans, his warm hands grazing along your thighs. You grabbed ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself as he helped you step out of the fabric. “There you go.” 

As Rhett stood back up, he looked down at you, his gaze uncertain. A line formed between his brows, his eyes bouncing between your own as if searching through your soul. He whispered a soft ‘c’mere’ and pulled you into his strong embrace. His hands wrapped tightly around your shoulders and tucked you against his chest. You inhaled deeply, smelling the familiar, comforting scent of leather and tobacco he always carried. This was what home felt like. You nuzzled into him, muscles releasing the tension they held onto. 

“I love you.” Those three words felt right, certain even. Despite the night’s events, you knew you would be okay as long as you had Rhett. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” His pressed another kiss to the top of your head, and then tucked you under his chin. You listened to the steady beat of his heart, slightly faster than it usually was, as it thudded against your ear. 

It would be alright. This was your home. Rhett was your home.

[A/N]- this was inspired by the song The Halocline by Hippo Campus <3

[bobfloydsbabe]

arranged marriage au | rhett abbott x oc | sneak peek

Author's Note: This story it set at the turn of the 20th century, somewhere around 1899-1901. I haven't quite decided yet, but it's important context for this story. Women did not have a lot of autonomy at this time, which is reflected in Rhett and Lou's conversation in this sneak peek. Is the timeline right in a historical context? Probably not, but it's fiction, so I can do what I want. Enjoy!

Release Date: Unclear

“Louisa.”

“What?” Her face is all hard lines and thundering eyes. Something twists inside him at the sight of her ire.

“I don’t want to own you,” he says and steps closer, dirt crunching under his worn boots. “Your life is your own, even after we marry.”

She shakes her head, tears pooling in her dark eyes, making his chest feel tight. He yearns to move even closer, wrap his arms around her, and assure her that he doesn’t mean her any harm. Despite not having a choice, he wants to marry her. He wants to build a life and have a family with her.

He’s halfway in love with her already. He hopes one day she’ll love him too.

“You say that now,” she says, tears in her voice as she speaks. “But then I’ll argue or refuse to listen, and you’ll remind me you’re the man and you get the final say. You may not want to, but you will own me.”

Now he shakes his head, disbelief coursing through his veins. It’s the most preposterous thing he’s ever heard, and he hates that she thinks that way about him.

“Louisa,” he breathes, her name like a prayer on his lips as he closes the distance between them. “You belong to you. Not your father or to me or to anyone, and I’ll do what I can to prove it to you.”

She meets his gaze, bottom lip wobbling as she tries to hold back sobs. “You swear?”

He nods, lifts his hands and tentatively cups her cheeks. “I swear.”

Tension hangs heavy in the air between them, and without thinking, Rhett bends his head down towards hers. His heart thunders in his chest as their breaths mix, and heat blooms under his palms as Louisa’s cheeks grow red.

Their lips are a hair’s breadth from touching when a horse neighs, making her pull back and Rhett’s hands fall back at his side.

“I should get you home.”

He offers the crook of his arm, and she weaves her hand into it, letting him lead her to their horses. Their boots drag across the dirt, and Rhett helps her up on Sally, the reddish brown mare that belongs to his almost wife.

He settles on Blazer, and they begin the ride back to the Kinney Ranch.

“Rhett?”

If her scent didn’t linger, he might’ve forgotten she was even there. He looks to his right and finds her watching him, maybe even with a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“The house is lovely,” she tells him, tone shy and withdrawn for the first time since he’s known her.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @bobgasm, @attapullman, @cherrycola27, @bradshawsbaby, @kmc1989, @keyrani

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

Emma's Epic Multi-Fandom Rec List: 'Top Gun: Bob' Edition

This is technically like, part 3.1 since I've been working on pulling a giant 'Top Gun: Maverick' rec list together, with all the daggers. I wanted to have this done a little while ago (because August was when I joined the TGM fandom, etc.) but frankly everything has been nuts and so I just figured it was better to share what I had ready rather than wait for the whole thing.

Please cut me some slack, my puppy just got spayed and she insists I hold her bone for her while she chews so I have like one free hand and two brain cells at the moment

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This past year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me. 

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these pics to show the creators some love! 

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd 

Full of Surprises ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — You have to admire a fandom that takes one look at the bespectacled, quiet-seeming character and goes “This guy fucks.” I also had that exact thought when I first saw Bob Floyd (along with several other, increasingly filthy thoughts), so when I read this story for the first time I went “oh, yeah, definitely. This guy fucks and this is how he fucks.” Just like our beloved WSO, it starts out so charming and sweet and then gets so incredibly steamy and sexy. 10/10. And when you’re done, there’s an equally hot Part 2. 

Behave ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — Bob Floyd bicep choking. Let me repeat that, a little louder: BOB! FLOYD! BICEP! CHOKING! It’s even hotter than you think it is. 

Whodunit? by @attapullman — Fun fact: my absolute favorite genre of fiction (books, movies, games, you name it) is a whodunit mystery. So, naturally, I have been obsessed with this series ever since Mo started teasing it way back when, and I love everything about it. Bob and Fanboy are the perfect goofy amateur sleuths, the teasing hints of cameos from all of the other Daggers keeps you on your toes and there’s a dose and campy ‘80s nostalgia running through the whole thing that I adore. It’s just pure, giddy fun. 

The Neighbor!Bob Universe ❤️‍🔥 by @attapullman — I am on record as adoring every single version of Bob that Mo cooks up, but neighbor!Bob holds a special place in my heart. He’s so handy and confident and sexy and he needs help dodging the firtations of all of the older women in the neighborhood who are equally obsessed with him! My bff and I once joked that the perfect man could build you a table and then do both you and your taxes on it, and well, that’s neighbor!Bob to a tee. 

do you wanna make somethin' of it ❤️‍🔥by @theharddeck — Hi, hello, are you looking for a Bob fic so hot it will MELT YOUR ENTIRE BRAIN? This is that fic. Bob has a secret side hustle as your favorite audio erotica performer (username: BullRiderRhett) and he is just as brain-scramblingly hot in person as he is in your headphones. I finished this fic and said out loud, to nobody, “omg I need him.” And because the universe is kind, there is an equally scorching sequel. 

you don’t have to be a star by @sunlightmurdock — Sweet, perfect Bob deserves a sweet, perfect fic where he gets to hear all about how lovely and wonderful he is, just the way he is. Fluffy and warm and the kind of story that gives you the urge to kiss him all over his perfect little face. 

Something in the Orange ❤️‍🔥by @sorchathered — I’m a sucker for a “right person, wrong time” situation and this one is a gut-punch of angst followed by a swoon-worthy reconciliation. I imagine it would be impossible to ever truly move on from Robert Floyd. 

Delicate ❤️‍🔥 and I Want Your Midnights by @laracrofted — *Tyler Owens voice* Are y’all ready to pine? Bob Floyd is an absolute dream boy and he’s at his most hesitant and lovestruck in these two gorgeous stories. These give me the same like, sinking stomach-feeling I get when I stare at pictures of Lewis for too long — like just the tiniest bit of melancholy that makes the whole experience sweeter and more emotional. Does that make sense? It’s one of the highest compliments I can give. 

Covering the Classics ❤️‍🔥by @roosterforme — BOB AND ANNA! ANNA AND BOB! I COULD SCREAM ABOUT THESE TWO FOR HOURS! I love them, this is such a beautiful, heart wrenching, emotional roller coaster of a story about learning how to find yourself and your people after heartbreak and trauma. Anna is such an interesting, complicated character and Bob meets her at every turn with love and tenderness and the biggest open heart in the world. (And also the steamy scenes are BEYOND, like, damn, Bob, neither Anna nor I was ever gonna be able to resist you.)

I Heard Screaming ❤️‍🔥by @oncassette — Yes, it’s a classic fanfic trope — I heard noises and walked in on you enjoying some *private time* while thinking about me — but it’s a classic for a reason. I love it and I reread it all the time. 

Four Eyes ❤️‍🔥by @promisingyounglady — I’m going to quote what I wrote the first time I reblogged this wildly, delightfully, insanely filthy fic: “I need to sit in a dark corner and replay this fic in my brain like a movie now.” It’s that good

Misc. Lewis Pullman Characters: 

Dancing Beneath the Moon ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Rhett Abbott) — Del is *the* Rhett Abbott fic writer, in my opinion, and choosing just one of their fics was so much harder than I thought. But ultimately, I’m still so spellbound by this one, where Rhett is a ghost haunting the former Abbott ranch. It’s atmospheric and moody and gorgeous and the pining is top notch — as is the image of Rhett being a grumpy, mischievous house ghost. Also please check out their Floytt universe which I also adore. 

Coyote ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Miles Miller) — An omegaverse with a twist! The reader is a wolf being married off to broker peace with another prominent wold family … only to run away with the sweet, gentle coyote who works at the desk of the El Royale.  Dip You in Honey So I Could Be Stickin to You ❤️‍🔥by @laracrofted (Harrison Knott) — Harrison Knott, the man that you are. And the man that you are in this fic, specifically. I need him desperately. Carnally. In a way that is concerning to feminism.

[rhettmotel]

Sin Worse Than Whiskey

Summary: With a preacher father and the threat of Hell, it's no wonder that you repress your longing to feel comfortable in your body. When Rhett returns to Wabang as the youth pastor at your father's church, both of you have repressed sins that you can't keep down.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x AFAB!Reader BUT reader is a repressed transman and Rhett is a repressed bisexual

Rating: nsfw content, 18+, mdni!

Warnings: Talk of religion and homosexuality as a sin. Heavy religious themes, talk of body dysphoria and self hatred for both Rhett and reader. Use of slurs and talk of "fixing" yourself as in "praying away the gay"

Word Count: 635

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. If you like my writing and would like to support me, I'd really appreciate if you would check out my Ko-Fi. I use these donations to help with the cost of groceries. If Ko-Fi is not your thing, I also have a list of things I use at Uni. That being said, Please don't feel any pressure to support; just a simple reblog also helps. ❤️ This was inspired by The Starling Girl, Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain, a little bit by Midnight Mass and with lots of gentle encouraging by @sebsxphia I love you ❤️

"Remember when you said if you were a boy, you'd want to look like Rhett?"

"Shut up!" You grunt, pushing your sister on her shoulder.

"Girls!" your mother shouts, already way ahead of you and at the car.

It was true, you had said that, but that was in the comfort of your bedroom, not for your sister to be blabbing about where anyone could hear.

There had always been lingering thoughts in the back of your head about what it might be like to live as a boy with short hair and a flat chest, but that was never going to happen.

Once, when you were young and stupid, around twelve, you asked your mother why you hadn't been born a boy and how you wished you had been. This had gotten your mother irrationally angry, ranting at you about how God made you exactly as He wanted you to be and to change anything would be blasphemous. After that, you never brought it up again.

You wanted to be good and holy; you wanted to get into heaven like the rest of your family. You tried to forget about those feelings and even tried to counteract them by dressing and acting as girly as you could. It was going pretty well, too, until Rhett Abbott came back to town again.

Your father, the preacher at your church, had hired him to look after the youth worship and although you were eighteen now and no longer part of the youth group, your father asked you to sit in and observe instead of just letting you have the job. You had argued with him about it for quite a while, but he just kept saying that you needed to observe someone else doing it before he trusted you to do it.

"Don't ever say that out loud again,” you hiss at your sister, low enough for no one else in the van to hear. Who Knows what your parents would do if they heard you or anyone else speak those words again.

The first time that you sit in on the youth group, Rhett can’t seem to stop looking at you. It was probably just because you were neither a youth nor a pastor and still sitting in on his group, but his eyes still made you shift in your seat.

“Why are you in the youth group?” Rhett asks as most of the children are filing out of the room. “You’re eighteen now, ain’t you?”

“I am,” you nod with a soft smile. “I’m just here to observe.”

Rhett looks at you for a moment, then his face softens. “Ah. Did I take your job?” He asks, swallowing a swear word that threatens to escape just after he realizes.

“No, No,” you hold up your hands, not wanting the older man to feel guilty about doing the job your father clearly thinks you are unfit for. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think my father would’ve given it to me anyway,” you admit, trying to push out a soft smile that doesn’t look too sad.

 “I’m sure that’s not true.” Rhett shifts awkwardly on the linoleum floor, and his shoes squeak to fill the deafening silence, “I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

You frown. “Youth group is only held on Sundays.”

“I know I just… I thought since your dad was the preacher and all, you’d be coming to daily mass. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” Rhett apologizes.

The truth was, you’d never gone to daily mass before. You’d always been in school just like your younger siblings, but since you graduated from one of the strictest Catholic schools in all of Wyoming, now would be the time. “No, I… I’ll be here tomorrow,” you nod, walking before you can embarrass yourself further.

—— Thanks for reading. Chapter 2 will be coming at you next week ❤️

[mothdruid]

Love in the Saddle

pairing: Rhett Abbott x fem!reader

summary: the two of you didn't mean to forget about valentine's day, but to make up for it you decided to have a day of riding together.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: fluff!!!! allusions to smut at the end

a/n: happy valentine's day!!

A loud huff passed through the air of the barn. You chuckled and ran the front cinch through the buckle, tugging it lightly after Teaspoon let out another huff. It was a shockingly warm day out, which was good for you and the horses. Teaspoon shook her head from side to side for a moment. Her auburn hair shook about, catching small bits of sunlight through the doorway.

“That so?” You finished the front cinch before moving to the chest strap. You buckled the chest strap into place, having made sure it was snug but not too tight on her. Teaspoon stomped her front right hoof lightly on the dirt. “Excited for the sun? Cause trust me, I bet Sterling is too.”

There hasn't been much sun around within the last few months. Snow had been dusting the ground for months, making it hard to take the horses out. It wasn’t that you couldn’t, it’s just neither you or Rhett were fans of long cold rides. You kept their exercise up though, letting them out into the gated field and taking them into the big round pen. You had been taking them on actual rides more recently since the snow had started to melt, leaving cleared areas of pasture for long rides.

Which is what was happening today. A long ride with Rhett. The two of you hadn’t had a lot of time lately for each other. Rhett had been helping more and more at his parents' place. Royal had started to pester Rhett about needing to get the cattle out on the pastures. Which Rhett hadn’t had too much of an issue with at first, but then it changed into helping with rebuilding fixtures and god knows what else. You had been busy with your own work as well, doing some land survey and mapping. By the time the both of you were home, you were both beat and just wanted to melt into the bed.

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around you were both flustered, having forgotten. So, Rhett made it a point that the following weekend would be a weekend for the two of you. No jobs, no family, no responsibilities except for each other.

You grabbed the back cinch, pulling it up and tightening it, then threading it through the buckle. After placing the bridle on her head, placing the bit in her mouth and draping reins back around her neck, you gave her a pat of encouragement.

“That’s my girl,” you praised, rubbing her neck.

Rhett was still in town, that you knew of, having said that he had a few errands to run. You took it upon yourself to saddle the horses up, wanting to get right into the quality time he had promised you. You couldn’t help it. You missed him, missed your big strong cowboy. Missed his gruff and grit, and the way it all melted away for you. That soft man that not everyone got to see, the one that came out for you and only you. The goofy little smile he gave you when you laughed a little too hard, or the way he would encapsulate you in the kitchen and sway with you back and forth. Yeah, you missed the sex and being physical regularly. But you really just missed him.

“Stay,” you told Teaspoon after leading her outside.

Sterling was more than excited for you to pull him out. He let out a loud whinny, and shook his head. You smiled and gave him a few pats of excitement. A part of you thought that the horses might be more excited about the little ride today than you or Rhett. You have Sterling a sugar cube, the same you had done with Teaspoon after pulling her out. You had placed the saddle pad and turned around to get the saddle when you saw him. You hadn’t even heard the truck pull in.

“Saddling my horse now?” Rhett let out in his gruff voice.

“Hope that’s not a problem,” you chirped back.

“Thought I would be the only thing you ever saddled up,” Rhett started walking towards you, one arm behind his back.

“Well, if you’re lucky I’ll saddle you up later too,” you gave him a wink, “what’re you hiding?” You went over to where you had placed Sterling’s saddle earlier while getting Teaspoon’s out. Just as the leather was about to touch your hands, Rhett stopped you. His calloused hand wrapped around your wrist.

Rhett pulled your attention from the saddle, guiding you to turn towards him. As you turned to him, the arm behind his back came into view. It was a small bundle of flowers, a bundle of wildflowers. There was a simple small cream colored ribbon holding the collection of wildflowers together. You could make out the off white of the baby's breath, bright white and yellow of the daisies, the soft pink of a flower, and some purple tones of lavender. It made your heart swell seeing the flowers in front of you. Rhett had never been one for buying flowers, but he had a habit of buying them for special occasions.

You went to speak, mouth opening only for Rhett to stop you from speaking. “They reminded me of you.”

“Rhett,” his name was the only thing you could say. Maybe it was because you two hadn’t spent any quality, but the swell in your heart had multiplied at his words. Rhett had never been the best with emotions, but you had seen so much from him over the years. “Thank you.”

Rhett smiled softly, leaned forward, and placed a kiss on your cheek. He felt your fingers creep around the base of the bouquet, brushing against his. Rhett could never get over the way how your hands were still so soft compared to his. You always told him that it was because you moisturized, but he was just convinced that you were perfect with or without lotion.

“Go get Teaspoon warmed up,” Rhett nodded towards the Teaspoon, who was now peeking around the corner of the doorway at the two of you.

“‘Kay,” you gave him a smile with a small nod as you fully took the bouquet from him.

The sound of him moving the saddle hit your ears as you got to Teaspoon. You turned for a brief moment to look at him, fastening the front cinch and whispering to Sterling. The words were indecipherable, but you could hear the gruff of his voice no less. A huff broke your train of thought, pulling you back to face Teaspoon. She took a few steps forward only to shake her head up and down. A toothy smile broke out across your face, amused by her response. It was in moments like this that she felt like a child, being able to read the room between parents.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” you chuckled.

Your fingers wrapped around the left side of her bridle, then guided her away from the stable. Her steps were heavy next to you, hooves digging into the barely warmed dirt below her. When you stopped you undid the ribbon around the flowers Rhett had got you. You tied one end of the ribbon tightly around the stems of the flowers, keeping the bundled with as little length needed. The other end of the ribbon was being tied around the horn of your saddle. Once done, you stepped back to look at it.

“How’s that girl?” All Teaspoon did was barely tilt her head in your direction, looking back ahead without a sound. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take that as a ‘fine’ then.”

You gripped the horn with one hand, grabbed the back of the seat, and placed one of your boots into the left stirrup. After a few readying bounces, you launched yourself up and swung your leg around to get your other boot into the stirrup. After shifting to get a little more comfortable, you gathered the leather reins in your hands. A tug to the right side of the reins had Teaspoon moving, taking heavy step by heavy step in the direction you’d chosen. As you had started to take a lap around the dried out grass, Rhett led Sterling out of the stables.

Rhett adjusted his cowboy hat after getting up in his saddle. A part of you wished he would have left the hat in the stables, hair out on display for you. Either way you knew you’d be seeing it sooner or later. Those light brown locks that had you daydreaming, imagining the feel of them between your fingers and tugging on them ever so lightly. Once he was half way over you noticed him moving towards you. He had one hand on the reins, the other resting on the horn of the saddle.

The two of you happily moved over to the gate, Rhett hopping down to unlatch and open it. After that the two of you took off in the large expanse of pasture. The sun was shining down intensely in the open space. Sterling’s gray mane was shimmering, Teaspoon’s looking like rays of sunshine. There was a soft crunch of dry grass under the hooves of the horses. It was obviously one of the first days of spring peeking through the veil of winter.

It started as a small trot between the two of you, taking your time to just bask in each others presence. It had been a while since you two were allowed to just ruminate with each other. Being able to be out in the pastures again was exhilarating, almost like a kid in a candy store. There was so much space to run and go, it’s like the possibilities were endless. The trot quickly turned into a gallop, then a race. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as your horses sprinted. The flowers Rhett had got you were resting against your knee, bouncing every now and then depending on the gallop. With each small nudge from them you were reminded of why he got them. Once you were finally ahead of him a small bit, you decided to call it.

“I win!” You shouted and looked back at Rhett. He was wearing a frown already, eyebrows knitted together.

“We didn’t even choose a finish spot!” Rhett yelled back amidst tugging on Sterling’s reins.

“Doesn’t matter,” you jested, guiding Teaspoon around and back towards Rhett.

Rhett relaxed back and let out a huff. He stopped Sterling next to you, Rhett’s eyes locked with your own. You feigned an innocent look, trying to act as if you didn’t randomly decide with the race was over. There was a smirk starting to form on Rhett’s face, making one start to form on your own face.

Appreciation was flowing through your veins, keeping your heart beating in that very moment. All you could do was stare at him and take in the features that you had spent days, weeks, months, even years memorizing. No matter what part of life he was at, he was always catching your attention. When the two of you were on the playground in kindergarten, across the lunch room in high school, how he looked after a bull ride, and even now, looking at you with a smile and smitten gaze. You leaned in, hoping he would too.

His lips met yours halfway, closing the gap between the two of you. It was anything intense, the position and space preventing that from happening, but it was loving anyways. Lips ever so soft, especially after he actually started using the lip balm you had bought him. Rhett smelled like it too, honey butter. It was the only scent you thought that wouldn’t be too bothersome. You pulled back slightly, leaving about an inch or two between your face.

“I missed you,” he whispered, as if he didn’t want the horses hearing.

“I missed you too,” you replied, then gave him a soft peck on the lips.

Before he could pull back fully, you snatched his hat off his head, placed it on your own, and took off. After a small chase you both came to a stop. You couldn’t help but smile, a playful thread weaving through you. Rhett stopped Sterling, hopping down, and walking over to you with Sterling’s reins in hand. You followed suit, getting down from Teaspoon and guiding her over near Rhett with you. Rhett looked at his hat on your head, flicking the brim of it up with his finger. His hair was a windblown mess, but you loved it.

“I think you got something of mine,” Rhett’s voice dropped, kindling a fire inside of you.

“Do I? I don’t remember taking anything from you, Mr. Abbott,” you feigned innocence again, something Rhett loved.

“I’m pretty sure you do, ma’ma,” Rhett ducked his head to look below the brim of his hat more. He was practically eye level with you now. “Hat looks pretty familiar t’my own, and y’know what they say ‘bout wearin’ a man’s hat,” he was laying it on thick now, letting his Wyoming drawl seep into his words.

“I don’t think I do,” you cascaded your fingers down his flannel clad chest, “might have to tell me.”

“I think I’d be able to do that,” his free hand snaked around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“You could show me too,” you leaned towards him and ghosted you lips over his.

“Course ma’am, whatever you’d ask of me,” Rhett’s breath was hot against your lips.

Just before you were about to press your lips to his, Sterling let out a loud huff and Teaspoon whinnied. The both of you pulled back a little, chuckling at the horses. Rhett leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek quickly. His hand slipped from your waist, making you miss the warmth of his touch immediately.

“I can tell ‘nd show ya back at home, if you’d like?” Rhett teased, keeping the character up.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer, Mr. Abbott.”

[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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[sebsxphia]

gentle, rough and loving.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett abbott’s aftercare is the final piece to the puzzle you need.

￫ word count: 2.5K.

￫ music: listen to the incredible and beautiful playlist made by @laracrofted for this fic here! 💽

￫ c/w: endings of smut, endings of BDSM/rough sex, mentions of BDSM, rope, derogatory language used towards reader, one mention of no previous aftercare in previous relationships, sub space, soothing injuries, kissing, swearing, rhett giving you proper aftercare, rhett being an absolute sweetheart and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: i’m dedicating this piece to the wonderfully talented @lewmagoo. their writing is absolutely phenomenal, and what always gets me most, is the beautiful aftercare that they write. therefore, this piece was born! please kindly check out their writing, i cannot recommend it enough! <3 i hope you enjoy! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Gentle, rough and loving are the three words you would use to describe what it felt like to make love to Rhett Abbott. He had your face pushed down with one hand, onto the hard and cold floorboards of your living room floor. His other hand was gripping at your hip so hard, you knew his fingertips would leave bruises. Yet, the hand that was pressed on your face had his fingers curling round to the rise of your cheek, so the wooden floorboards wouldn’t hurt too much. The hand on your hip worked to steady your wrecked frame, so you would never fall forward and hurt your neck.

He had secured your wrists tightly together with some rope. The rope itself wasn’t some tattered and fraying rope that he had found in his barn, no. Rhett had insisted that he purchased proper bondage rope. Your safety was of the upmost importance to him, regardless that he was treating you like a common whore in this very moment. He used his extensive, and ever growing knowledge of cowboy knots, to tie your wrists together and let them rest on the arch of your back. It was the perfect centre of gravity so that you wouldn’t topple over when his thrusts became particularly rough.

At the beginning of your relationship, before any rougher type of sex had occurred, you explained to Rhett your prior experience of aftercare with previous partners was, minimal, to say the least. It was during the quiet confines of your shared bed during one moonlit night. You remember the look on his face, shadowed gently by the moonlight filtering in through your lacy curtains. His face contorted into hard lines above his eyebrows, yet his eyes still wore a soft and loving gaze for you. He was both angry beyond belief that no one would take care of you like that, and deeply consoling to your fears and hurt.

“I promise you, I’ll never let that happen to you, m’love. You’re safe with me. I hope y’ can come to trust me, in time.”

He understood that he had to earn that trust from you in time, and he made a promise to himself that gentle night that he would.

A year later and Rhett had kept his promise.

After the scene was over and he came down from his own ecstasy inducing high, the word loving, was about to replace the word rough. He could still hear your faint whimpers that escaped your mouth in time with your body twitching from your heightened sensitivity. With heightened caution, he slowly slipped his fingers out from under your cheek to allow for your face to gently meet the floorboards. His other hand still had a hold on your hips to steady you, but his moved his fingertips an inch upwards so he wouldn’t press down on the particularly sore points. His hand from your face traveled over the base of your skull, along your spine in your neck and dipped in between your shoulder blades. This was when you first registered his voice.

“Darlin’, can y’ feel that? Feel my hand on your neck?” You let out a small grunt in response. You had intended it to be a hum in agreement, but with lack of water it distorted your voice. He understood your tone none the less and made a mental note to get you water as soon as he was able. He continued to trace your spine with his hand until he reached your tied wrists. He was allowing you to feel his gentle touch, to remind you that his far rougher touch was finished now. His fingertips reached your bound wrists and you heard him speak again.

“I’m goin’ un-tie your wrists now, darlin’. I won’t let y’ go, I promise.” He worked his set of fingers nimbly to un-tie the knots. He only ever used knots that were quick and easy to un-tie, especially with one hand. As you felt the rope be pulled out from underneath your wrists like a table cloth off a table, your wrists went limp and they slid down your hips. Rhett was quick to grasp onto them to allow your centre of gravity to stay. You huffed out a groan that he could only register as, exhaustion.

He made another mental note. “Your poor back and wrists, they must be so sore. Cream, after water.”

“Shh, m’love. I know, I know. I’m goin’ turn you over now, okay?” The hand on your hip guided you down to the floor and then slid round to your belly, to turn you around to face him. The gentle hold on your wrists let go momentarily before he gathered them back in his hand to rest on your stomach. He had you turned over and now sat in his lap, as he sat on the floor. He had one hand resting in between your shoulder blades, allowing him to hold you up right and see your face. Your cheeks were flushed a rosy red, with tear stains tracking down your flesh. Your eyes were drooping and completely glazed over, and you wore a cock drunk, lopsided smile.

He was proud that he could fuck you so good that you would end up as a wreck like this, but that was done now. It was now his responsibility to be gentle and loving with you, and take care of you.

“Can you tell me your name?” Rhett avoided using any pet names that would be used during a scene like that, as to not push you into subspace any further.

“Bambi?” You croaked out with your eyebrows furrowing slightly. His lips quirked up in the corner of his mouth, but he kept it hidden from you.

“That’s not your name right now. Can y’ tell me your name?”

Your brow furrowed deeper and you inhaled a shaky breath. Your glazed over eyes scanned his face and he felt a wave of relief when he saw your eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly. It was a tell tale sign that you were coming back around and you remembered Rhett as your lover and someone who was safe, to you. You called out your own name and he placed a softening kiss to your forehead with praise.

“Atta’ girl.” He beamed in delight. “That’s your name ‘nd I’m here to take care of y’ now, okay, darlin’?” You nodded in response and removed your hands from his to grab onto the collar of his plaid shirt. You buried your face into his neck, letting your cheeks scratch over his stubble and your nose inhale his familiar scent, grounding you further.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett…” You mumbled incoherently into his flesh.

He smiled to himself and moved his hand to cradle your head. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s me, you’re safe now. I’m gon’ take y’ upstairs ‘nd get y’ cleaned up, okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder and let him scoop you up under your thighs, allowing himself to get off his knees and cradled you next to his torso. He carried you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, letting you down softly onto the mattress below. He shed his own plaid shirt and instructed you to sit up briefly. He guided your arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around your bare chest, noticing you were shivering slightly. You held tightly onto his biceps as he pulled away from you. There was a look in your eyes, a pleading desperation for Rhett not to leave you. He recognized it instantly and reassured you within a second.

“I jus’ need to get y’ some water and ointment first, m’love. I’m gon’ be ten seconds.” He pressed another praising kiss to your forehead. Your glazed over eyes looked almost tearful and it caused his stomach to drop through the floor. It teared at his heartstrings, knowing that you entrusted him so deeply like this.

You watched as he left your bedroom, with the glass from your nightstand in his hand. You kept your eyes intently focused on the doorway and awaited for his return from the bathroom. You heard the faucet running and the pipes shaking throughout the rest of your home. When he returned, you held out your hand, as to beckon him for his reassuring presence. He squatted down by the bedside and handed you the glass. He reached up to brush the hair out of your eyes, looking up at you with a prideful smile when you gulped down the soothing liquid within seconds.

“I’ll get y’ another glass in a bit. Can I have your wrists first, please?”

Rhett was well aware of the fuzzy headspace that you could be in. Regardless of the stage, he understood that you may be unable to communicate back to him. Therefore, asking for your permission, or telling you what he was doing was always first on his mind.

You held out your wrists and let him take them delicately into his own hands. His calloused fingertips had always been rough, since the day you met him, but somehow, when they were drawing over your skin it seemed as though it was a featherlight and tender touch. You adored how your rough and tough cowboy, could be so gentle and loving.

He moved the ointment over your wrists and asked you to sit up next so he could soothe your aching back. He could feel your eyes fixated on him the whole time. You were tracing and following his every move. But he knew it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it was because you were finally receiving the proper aftercare that you deserved and you wanted to burn it into your memory forever. He could feel how your body was keening into his loving touch, with every simple swipe and stroke of the cooling ointment. When his fingertips ran over your wrist, he could sense your pulse coming back to a resting rate, which pleased him greatly.

When the pain points that he was aware of were covered, he moved onto your needs that you perhaps hadn’t yet communicated to him.

“Darlin’, can y’ tell, or point, to any other parts that hurt, please?” You out stretched your finger to point at your knees and he let out a quiet chuckle to himself. “Of course. I’m not surprised, y’ took me s’ well, sweetheart.”

He moved up and onto the bed, and caught your gaze in the process. Your eyes had lit up and sparkled brightly at his sweet praise. Your mouth was parted with an anticipated smile.

“I— I did?”

Your fingers twiddled with one another in your lap. He recognized how your body language shifted and the look you wore on your face. You were asking for praise and reassurance, something that you had never had prior.

“Oh, m’love,” he scooted up to where you sat against the headboard. He knelt next to you and took your face in his hands again. “You did incredible for me. I’m s’ proud of you. You’re such a good bunny for me.” He leaned down to gingerly press a kiss to your cheek but your lips met his instead. You hovered mere millimeters away from his lips and you swore you could’ve felt a zap! of electricity connect you both. You felt his warm breath fan over your lips and you gazed up at him through your lashes.

He swallowed thickly and his voice got caught in his throat. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?”

“Please, Rhett.” You breathlessly pleaded. He leaned in to meet your lips and your body almost went limp against his. The first loving kiss that came after a particularly rough fucking, was always the final piece to the puzzle. Like clockwork, you came back around and you were now fully understanding of your surroundings and who you were with. You were with your Rhett, who was gentle, rough and loving.

He pulled away, with you both letting out a small gasp at the sudden contact of air. He held your gaze for a couple of moments longer. He loved the way how you keened into his touch, how you were moving your face to press your cheeks harder against his large hands.

“Let me finish taking care of your knees, ‘nd then I’ll cuddle up close to you, okay?” You nodded in his hold and let him slip away, back down to your legs.

Moments later your body was smoothed out with the ointment, you had another glass of water down you and you had been moved back into Rhett’s arms. He’d pulled out your old laptop from underneath your bed to watch something easy, alongside some emergencies snacks for occasions such as these.

He had taken his plaid shirt off you at your request. You wanted to feel the ever comforting feeling of skin on skin contact. He was sat back against the headboard with you in between his legs. His broad and toned thighs were locking around you and keeping you protected. His hands ran up and down your arms in soothing strokes, and sketched out mindless shapes on your flesh. He occasionally dipped into the snack you had in your hand to feed you one or feed himself, which always earned a giggle from you.

“Do y’ want a bath after this, darlin’? I’ll give y’ a proper massage too, the lavender oil and everythin’.”

Your head rolled back into the crook of his neck and onto his shoulder. You let out a satisfied hum and looked upwards towards Rhett. Your hands moved to cradle the back of his skull and toy with the lick of hairs at the base of his neck. He craned his face down to catch your satisfied, yet still drooping gaze.

“Please, lover.” You paused for a second and sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re s’ gentle, rough and loving to me.”

If your hand was on his chest right now, you’d be able to feel his heart beating in double time. So fast, it could burst right through his chest. Your trust was solidified in Rhett and it made his heart feel as though there was a bed of wildflowers blooming inside of him.

“Anythin’ for you, m’love. I’ll always take care of you.”

“I’ll always take care of you too, cowboy.”

Your own statement was as true as his. After a particularly rough ride and having his knees scraped and his shoulder pushed out of his socket, you would be there. Your hands would roughly grip at his chest and shoulder to pop the bone back in its place, but your hands would turn gentle as you pressed the cotton pad to his bloodied knees. You would lovingly run your hands through his hair as he lay with his cheek pressed on your bare chest, when the exhaustion would wrack his body entirely.

You loved and cared so deeply for each other, that you both knew no one would, or could, ever match that.

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

tagging who maybe be interested: @sunblchdfly @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @peachystenbrough @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

[vivwritesfics]

Waiting For The Sun

Chapter Two

Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better. But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.

Soulmate AU

a/n: timeline might be out of canon order but fuck it

Series Masterlist

Fifteen year old Rhett Abbott hated Shakespeare. He sat in his room, his usually messy room, and attempted to write this essay. But his handwriting was chicken scratch and his soulmate wasn't responding to him.

He swore, if she'd gone to bed...

Well, Rhett couldn't blame her. It had gone midnight and, after near a year of being in each others heads, he knew her routine. But he also knew how much she loved Shakespeare.

Come on, wake up, he thought. But, if he woke her up, he never would have forgiven himself.

Without her there to keep him company while he struggled through his homework, Rhett gave up. He capped his pen, dropped it onto his paper, and stood from his desk. That was a problem for Tomorrow Rhett to deal with, even if the thought of getting detention terrified him. Well, not getting detention, but he knew his mom would never let him go to the rodeo if he got detention.

Are you okay?

He hadn't expected her voice in his head. What're you doing awake? Rhett asked his soulmate as he crawled beneath his bedsheets. They needed changing, he knew, but he was a gross teenaged boy. They always needed changing.

There was a pause before she responded, so long that Rhett thought she had gone back to sleep. Are you okay? She asked again. Even in his head, she sounded so damn tired. Guilt hit Rhett at all angles, but he couldn't deny how warm hearing her voice made him feel.

I'm okay, he answered, and her sigh filled his head. It wasn't of annoyance, though. No, she was relieved. Just doin' homework.

Do you need help with it? She asked, voice sweet in his head.

That was the thing about his soulmate. Ever since her voice had entered his head a year ago, she'd been so damn sweet. She'd helped him with so much homework over the past year. Now, Rhett wasn't stupid, but working on the ranch and training with his dad to be a future bull riding champion took up most of his time.

Tomorrow, if you can, he replied. Get some sleep, darlin'.

That woke her up slightly. The first time her soulmate had ever given her some sort of nickname. Riddled with exhaustion, Rhett didn't even noticed that the nickname had slipped. She didn't mind, though, not in the slightest.

Somehow, Rhett knew she hadn't yet gone back to sleep. Something in him could just feel that she was still awake. What were you dreamin' about? He asked, hands behind his head as he stared up at the popcorn ceiling. On the few instances that they spoke late into the night, Rhett stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine what she looked like. The sound of her voice gave him no indicators, but it didn't stop him from trying.

I dreamt that the sky opened up and the stars were raining down on us, she said in his head.

Rhett could see it, laying in the south pasture with a faceless girl as vibrant stairs began shooting across the sky, falling down around them and illuminating the Abbott Ranch. Sounds beautiful, he said to her, a yawn leaving his lips.

'm getting tired. In his head, her voice came out as groggy, and Rhett let the scene in his head change. A faceless girl, struggling to stay awake as she spoke to him.

Sleep, Rhett said to her.

Are you gonna sleep, too? She asked and Rhett gave a hum. Before you go, what's your homework? I can think about it while I'm waiting for you to wake up.

Rhett told her. Not long after that, the two of them were asleep. Rhett couldn't help but dream of himself as a young Leonardo DiCaprio in the nineties, falling for a faceless girl he couldn't have, a facless girl that kissed the poison from his lips and took a knife to his own chest before collapsing on top of him.

***

Twenty four year old Rhett woke up to the smell of bacon filling his nose. He opened his eyes and shut them immediately. Trust him to be too drunk to close his curtains. Mornin' Muffin, he said in his mind, praying he didn't sound too much like he was hanging out of his ass.

Her melodic giggle filled his mind. Almost immediately his day brightened up and he pushed himself out of bed. Well, good morning, she said to him. How does that head feel?

Suddenly, dread filled him. He had gotten pretty good at playing sober on the instances that she was still awake while he was out drinking. But, not last night, apparently. Ah, fuck. What did I say?

You were trying to tell me things about yourself and then getting frustrated when it working work. Even in his head, he could hear the amusement in her voice. You're cute when you're drunk and frustrated.

He groaned, audibly, as he walked out of his bedroom. How do you put up with me? He asked, somewhat rhetorically, as he wandered into the kitchen and greeted his family.

Believe it or not, you were made for me, bucko, she replied as he stole the bacon from Amy's plate. She complained, but Rhett didn't hear it as he took his own plate from his mother and sat down at the table.

Me? Made for you? How do you know you weren't made for me?

She laughed as his family found out just how hungover he was. But with that laugh filling his head, all was right in the world.

She was there through the morning as Rhett worked. She kept him company as he fed the cattle and tacked up for the morning. All the while she was making bread or reading a book. When the Tillerson boys showed up at the fence that separated them from the Abbott's, she was quiet, let him do what he needed to do. But, the moment he was grumbling, her soothing voice filled his head, calming him down.

I'm riding tonight, he said as he untacked his horse for the night. He brushed over her back, brushing away any loose and uncomfortable hairs.

Oh.

It was no secret to Rhett how much his bull riding worried her. For the first two years of his career to had listened as he fell off and hurt himself. It had taken Rhett those two years to learn how to quiet his mind when he was riding, for the soul purpose of not making her panic.

Tell me where you place, she said to him.

Of course, Muffin, he replied and headed back to the house for dinner.

Rhett loved it when his family watched him ride, of course he did. But he always felt like something was missing. He knew exactly what was missing, and couldn't wait for the day she was sitting there, between his mom and Perry. He'd ride better with her watching, he knew.

I'm going out with my friends tonight, she told him as he waited for his turn to ride.

Rhett couldn't help but grin to himself. She always had fun when she went out, always got drunk rather quickly. Every time she would ramble about their future together and he didn't mind that one bit.

Gonna celebrate my win?

You know it, cowboy.

Those were the words that played in his head as he sat on Twister. Fucking Twister. Everybody knew that the bull hadn't ridden well in weeks. But Rhett tried. With all of his might, he tried. But that bull tossed him around like a ragdoll, until he was pushing himself up from the sand and picking up his hat.

Muffin, you there? He asked as he walked over to the fence, footsteps sluggish.

Rhett waited a moment before she answered him. Yeah, I'm here. How did it go?

Rhett could have lied, could have told her everything was hunky dory, that he'd placed well and made it through to the next round. But she always seemed to know when he was lying to her. Maybe he sounded different when he lied. No matter what it was, she knew.

He sucked in a breath. I didn't place.

Oh, baby. He couldn't help but grimace at the sympathy. Bad bull?

He breathed through his nose as his father approached the fence. Maybe, he answered. I don't know Muffin. I just... But, as his dad started speaking, the words died in his mind.

When his dad and the rest of his family stepped back from the fence, gave him some space, his eyes met those of Maria Olivares.

Maria Olivares. There was a time that Rhett thought Maria was his soulmate. He was sixteen and connected the dots in his head to make it so. It didn't matter that the pieces didn't entirely fit or that she didn't look his way. Sixteen year old Rhett made it work.

But seeing her now, something inside of him sparked to life. He raised his hand towards her slightly. She was his Muffin, even if she didn't realise it. Maria smiled back and his heart seemingly skipped a beat.

It didn't much help that his Muffin had disappeared. But he'd seen that Maria was busy, and it made sense in his mind. She turned away from him and Rhett climbed out of the ring. Fuck, he needed a drink after that ride. Have fun, Muffin, he said as he climbed into his truck and began driving home.

It was a sucky night for Rhett. He didn't make it through and his girl was too busy to talk to him. He'd never fault her for it, though. She was having fun, and that was all that mattered.

Perry was having a night as shitty as his own. After Joy had stopped by earlier with the news about the FBI dropping Rebecca's case, he'd been in an understandably sour mood. That was why Rhett invited him out to the Pit Bar. That was how he found himself slamming back tequila shots in the Pit Bar with Perry.

Drunk Rhett was a rambler. He'd been drunk enough to now and Perry had seen him drunk often enough to know it, too. The topic of Rhett's drunken ramblings were almost always his bull riding career and his soulmate. Now, sober Rhett would never speak to Perry about his soulmate, not after Perry had gone ahead and married a woman that wasn't his soulmate.

But drunk Rhett couldn't help himself as he told Perry all about the last ten years with her. And then Maria Olivares walked into the Pit Bar.

She was out with her friends and his Muffin was out with her friends. It made so much sense to Rhett that this woman was his soulmate, but then why was she hanging onto Trevor Tillerson?

Perry saw the way Rhett looked at Maria. "You've been convinced this girl is your soulmate since you were sixteen years old," he said. "Go speak to her," he insisted.

When she approached the bar, Rhett did. But there so no opportunity to speak to her that time. The next time, their conversation was shirt, but that conversation was enough to reaffirm it to Rhett that Maria really was his soulmate. But then she went back to Trevor, and Perry joined him at the bar.

Drunk Rhett said whatever he wanted. Drunk Rhett made his big brother cry. He knew he shouldn't have said it the second the words left his lips. "I'm sorry, man," he said as he caught Maria's eye. "Go on, go get some air."

You look really pretty tonight, he said to no response. Maria still looked at him, though. And, with no Trevor Tillerson holding his arm around her shoulders, Maria joined him.

"Hey," she said to him for the second time that night.

Rhett tapped his fingers against the green neck of his beer bottle. "Hey," he repeated, but then that single word was slurred. There was so much he wanted to say, stuff about how she couldn't swear until she was fourteen or that, at sixteen, he had to teach her what a handjob was. All things Rhett had been through with his soulmate.

But enough doubt lingered in the back of his mind that he said nothing. What if Maria wasn't his soulmate and he blurted all of that out? They were memories between him, his soulmate, and nobody else.

Maria led the conversation, but Rhett didn't much mind. He sipped his beer and listened, his usual polite but somewhat shy smile playing on his lips. For a split second he turned to the door, tried to catch a glimpse of Perry through glass pane.

"Ah shit," he said as he stood. Maria said nothing. Certainly didn't scold him for his language as he headed outside. But Rhett wasn't thinking about that. As soon as he stepped into the cool night air, he was pushing Trevor Tillerson away from his brother.

He didn't know that Maria was watching the scuffle, didn't know she was there when Rhett put Trevor on the ground. Not without coming away with his own scrapes and bruises, of course. His hand fucking killed from where it had connected with Trevor's face.

As soon as Trevor was on the ground, Rhett turned back to the bar, back towards Maria. "That guy is the biggest asshole you're ever gonna meet," he said and headed back inside.

Muffin? He tried, but there was no response. Either she'd heard everything he'd been thinking through the fight and was disgusted, or she'd fallen asleep hours ago. But she wasn't Maria, Rhett knew that much.

He didn't know what happened between Perry and Trevor while he was pulling the truck around. But Rhett didn't need to know as he helped Perry load the body of Trevor Tillerson into his truck. Perry had fucking killed someone, and his finger prints were now on the body.

Fuck.

But he knew for a fact that he'd never been this panicked before. This was the kind of panic that would have her waking up to check on him, if she was even asleep. The breaths Rhett took in were deep and calming. He kept his emotions in check as he drove himself, Perry, and the body back to the Abbott ranch.

Fuck, he hoped his Muffin was sleeping.

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[fishfooddude]

Baby-Makin' (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

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Kinktober MasterList

(Divider credit @strangergraphics)

Watching Rhett try to ride a thousand-pound bull always did something to you. You were in the stands with Cecilia and Amy while Royal was talking to him about something. “He’s up next!” Amy cheered excitedly; you shared her sentiment as the announcer introduced Rhett over the speaker. 

When the gates opened and the bull busted through the arena, you watched as it tried to get Rhett off his back. Your gaze moved between Rhett and the clock. You felt nervous as you watched his arm flay about as the bull got angrier and angrier. The clock buzzed when Rhett had finally been thrown off of the bull. You watched as he landed on his shoulder awkwardly. You swallowed, hoping he hadn’t injured himself. “He did it! He won!” Amy cheered, pointing to the scoreboard where ‘Abbott’ appeared next to the number one spot. “Oh my gosh!” you cheered as you looked at the board and then back to Rhett.

As one of the announcers yelled out his victory, Rhett scanned the audience, looking for you. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you standing in the crowd, cheering with his family. As he accepted his title, his eyes didn’t leave you. You smiled and blew him a kiss before mouthing, ‘I’m so proud of you.’ Rhett’s smile got progressively goofier the longer he stared at you. 

The rodeo cleared out, and you found Rhett at the ‘rider’s only’ entrance. “Hey cowboy. You did amazing!” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Rhett hooked his hands under your thighs and effortlessly lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his hips. You squealed at the suddenness, “Always ride better when you’re watchin’ me, baby.” he grunted.

You giggled at his words and snatched the hat from his head, “I love watchin’ you ride, but maybe… you wanna watch me ride?” you teased, twirling his hair in your fingers. He laughed and moved you to his shoulder, smacking your ass in the process. You giggled and held onto the hat, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rhett’s truck was one of the last ones in the parking lot that night. He walked up to the passengers door and put you down in it before messing with the bar under the seat to push it back. “You got a condom, baby?” you asked as he climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He shook his head and pushed your legs apart, making your skirt pool at your hips. “Then we probably shouldn’t baby.” 

Rhett shook his head, “I think tonight is the night I knock you up baby.” he grunted pushing your panties to the side before pushing his middle finger through your fold collecting the moisture that had began to pool in your panties the second you found him after the rodeo. You moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers rubbing your clit in sharp oblong circles. 

“You’re gonna knock me up tonight?” you swallowed. Rhett nodded as he leaned down to your ear to whisper, “I got to let everyone know who you belong to, princess.”

[sushiwriterhere]

right where i want you

summary: "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader word count: 6.1k warnings: sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n.  notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog🗣😼 i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horse’s coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasn’t changed a thing, it seems. 

“Rhett Abbott you leave me alone or I’ll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.” You don’t even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean he’ll leave. He won’t. And he never does.

“How’d ‘ya know it was me?” You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know that’s what he wants.

You still don’t turn around to face him. “Because y’never leave me alone.” 

“I’m jus’ sweet on ‘ya. Couldn’t help it if I tried. Besides, missed ‘ya while ‘ya were away at that fancy east coast school o’ yours.”

“Well, have you tried?” You ignore the second part of what he said–you’re back for the summer, and you really haven’t been gone all that long even if your parents act like you’ve come back from the dead.

That pulls a laugh from him. 

For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabang’s sheriff didn’t seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around. 

“Nope,” He lets his lips pop dramatically on the ‘p’ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, “Plus, you’re real cute when you’re mad.”

All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush you’ve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression he’s wearing in that moment because it’s the same one he’s had every other time he’s taunted you. 

“Decide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastin’ my time.” You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though. 

“Aw, don’t get too upset now,” He pushes himself off the stall door he’d been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.

You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If he’s ever going to leave you alone.

“I didn’t come by to bother ‘ya, honest.” He murmurs.

You don’t grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.

“I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight, everyone’s been missin’ ‘ya. Whole town’s in uproar that you’re back.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.

You’re loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhett’s always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while you’d been away is not part of your calculus.

-

For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. He’s a liar and you’re a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofa—

You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhett’s eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde who’s grasping the collar of his flannel. 

In missing Rhett’s gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time you’re in the parking lot, it’s too late to turn around. James is between you and the door. 

He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “Wait up!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You really don’t want to deal with him right now, you don’t want to deal with any men, for that matter. 

“I said wait.” His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. There’s nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and you’re certain he won’t just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.

“Now that you’re back, I’m going to take you out to dinner.” James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you haven’t lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states. 

You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriends–always holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. There’s nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.

“No, thank you, James. I really should get going.” You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that he’ll change his mind. 

You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough. 

His demeanor switches in an instant.

“You think just ‘cause you’re the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swoonin’ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.” The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, “Why I ought’a teach you a lesson.”

When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, you’re outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.

Instead of James’ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhett’s voice breaks the moment, “Earl, I’ll make ‘ya sorry ‘ya ever look’d at ‘er if ‘ya don’t step away right now.” 

There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. You’d call him your savior if you don’t blame him somehow; if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldn’t be here. 

“Like hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.” James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.

You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots. 

They soil your plan for a hasty escape. It’s Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second they’re yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on James’ face and you aren’t sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not. 

“Stop it!” You try to at least get Rhett’s attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. “Rhett Abbott you fool, get off’a him!”

All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. You’re standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; there’s blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhett’s. Suddenly they’re being pulled apart.

You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, “You ever try that shit with me again I’ll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.”

His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like he’s considering spitting in your face, “Still hiding behind your daddy? Figures.”

He’s hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but he’s simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No one’s restraining him anymore, they’re all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that it’s just the two of you in the parking lot at that point. 

You make your decision in an instant, “Give me your keys.” 

You don’t get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesn’t move. 

“Rhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.” 

He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, “Tryin’ to take me home, sugar?”

Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You don’t check if he’s following you, some part of you knows you don’t need to. 

You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. It’s deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you. 

As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when he’d bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbott’s was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies. 

You’d watched the chaos from afar until he’d lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. You’d looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didn’t like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.

He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldn’t even let them touch the keys.

Now here you are, driving his truck like it’s your own without a single complaint from him. 

When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way you’d gotten in–without a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. It’s almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that he’s inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming. 

Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, “Now why’d ‘ya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?”

Rhett looks like he’s just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You don’t miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. There’s a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks. 

“I’m the one startin’ shit? He was tryin’ somethin’ with you!” He takes a step toward you but you don’t move, “Earl’s a piece of shit and he got what was comin’ to him. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“I had it handled.” Your defense is instinctual–knee jerk, even—everyone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and you’re sick of it. 

“Did ‘ya?” You’re toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. “‘Cause what I saw said somethin’ else.”

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible. 

“I’m not arguin’ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean ‘ya up.” 

For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. You’ve turned on one of the living room lights, but there’s still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earl’s nose and cheeks. 

“Now keep bein’ all tough, I better not hear ‘ya bitchin’ about the antiseptic hurtin’.” You don’t have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle. 

He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he won’t be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.

He doesn’t comment on your position at his knees. 

“Earl’s nose better be fuckin’ broken.” Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands. 

You don’t grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

When you return to him, he hasn’t moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden you’re kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like he’s holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.

“I need to make sure he didn’t break yours.” It’s a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he won’t call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones. 

He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; it’s uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasn’t worn them in a long while. 

Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if he’s trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesn’t grip them, doesn’t let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.

“Looks fine to me.” You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He’s trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only he’s breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.

You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because they’re a man and you’re not. But with Rhett, you can tell you’ve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress. 

Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. It’s silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. He’s so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.

Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. He’s like a foal in the way you’re unsure of how he’ll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.

He doesn’t bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. You’re not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.

“Are you going to behave, Rhett?” Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.

He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way he’s hard against you. 

He likes it. He likes the way you’ve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isn’t fighting you, he isn’t arguing–for once in his life, he’s quiet in your presence. 

The realization of how obedient he’s being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what you’d done to him the night before.

“You’ve spent all this time pullin’ my pigtails, and now that I’m here you can’t even form words.” He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.

You want to hate him. 

Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way he’s spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

“Whatever,” His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, “Whatever you want, sugar. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“And if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?” You aren’t going to make this easy on him. 

Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, you’re not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. You’re grateful he was there, you are. But you didn’t need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.

“Now, sugar, I find it hard to believe—”

You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand that’s leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that you’d actually get up and leave. 

“Try again.” You don’t change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.

“Whatever you want, goes.” He swallows slowly before speaking again, “Will you just–Will you please sit back down?” 

He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.

You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, “Does this turn you on, Rhett?” You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, “Not much of a big, bad, man now, are ‘ya?”

To your surprise, that doesn’t set him off. Most men wouldn’t let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly. 

“Like I said, whatever you want, sugar–I just want ‘ya to use me. Be good for something,” He licks his lips and exhales shakily, “Be good for you.” 

Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesn’t waver for a single moment. 

Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. They’ve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhett’s eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap. 

“So this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?” You’re goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what he’ll let you get away with. 

With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isn’t hiding, not in the slightest.

Now that you’re this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that he’s so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you don’t hate Rhett Abbott. 

In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether he’s around or not. When you’d gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. You’d half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.

(What you don’t know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. He’d looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time you’d rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, “fuck off”.)

“Can I kiss ‘ya?” His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like it’s a nervous habit. 

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, “That’s not what I meant and y’know it.”

Finally, you press your lips to his. They’re soft and warm and he’s so much better of a kisser than everyone else you’ve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp. 

You don’t expect it to feel so good. It’s one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, it’s a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You can’t stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly. 

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined,” He sighs, pushing up against the hand that’s still around his throat. 

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off, Rhett.” You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.

But it seems he’s given up the fight now that you’re right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesn’t matter.”

Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that he’s got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You could’ve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never would’ve occurred to you that this is how he’d be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.

You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.

The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand won’t stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. It’s mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck. 

“Cum for me, sugar,” Then, as if he’s anticipating your chastisement, he adds, “Please.”

Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize you’re chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesn’t let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating. 

“Fuck, Jesus,” He gasps, and after a moment, “I’ll be thinking ‘bout that til I die,” He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You want to tease him about taking the Lord’s name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, it’s quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that he’s still hard under you, but he isn’t making any moves to change that. 

He starts to shift under you like he’s considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him. 

“Ah ah, I’m not finished with you yet,” His eyes snap to yours in surprise.

“Rhett Abbott. Tellin’ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?” You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, “Prove it.”

Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesn’t stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him. 

“Can I–Can I keep going?” He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, “Like it when it, ah, when it hurts.”

God, this is what you’ve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls he’s been with do this to him. But something tells you that isn’t the case–you really don’t want it to be.

The whines and gasps he’s letting out as he’s writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. You’re only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch. 

It’s terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.

“What are you playin’ at?” You can’t help but settle back into your old ways–the Rhett Abbott you’ve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way he’s looking at you sets you off kilter. 

When he laughs at the way you’re starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, “Knock it off, Rhett. You’re bein’ an asshole.”

But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

As if anticipating the way you’re going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. It’s nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time it’s something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way. 

“I hate you, Rhett Abbott,” You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used to–this time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him. 

He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he might’ve figured it out too–that you don’t hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.

You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way he’s staring at you expectantly. 

He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. He’s a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that you’ll disturb the moment somehow.

The shower proceeds without a hitch. It’s oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that he’s still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if he’d done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.

When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after you’ve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?

Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, “You always smell so good, I spent ages tryin’ to figure out which one you were usin’. Just bought all of ‘em at some point.”

You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You don’t have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him. 

“It’s this one.” 

The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if he’ll ever stop making you feel like that–simultaneously like a trapped animal and like you’re the only girl he’s ever seen. You wonder if this (there’s a ‘this’?) will last long enough for you to find out.

He lends you one of his shirts and you’re pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.

“You’re a vision for a blind man, sugar,” His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, “Now come to bed.”

It’s something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. You’re immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you don’t fight him.

“You okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.” His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.

Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. There’s barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.

“I don’t think I hate you.” 

He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that he’s laughing.

“I’m sorry, sugar, c’mere,” He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, “I’m not laughin’ at you, I’m laughin’ only ‘cause I never hated you. I don’t really think you hated me either.”

“Hey!” You’re indignant, “Rhett Abbott, who’re you to tell me how I feel?”

“Alright, alright, sugar, I’ll take ‘yer word for it. My heroics do it for ‘ya?” You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.

“The way you almost got the snot beat outta ‘ya? Sure.” Scoffing, you turn yourself over so you’re facing away from him again, only you don’t move out of his arms. 

He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. You’re not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. You’ll just have to see.