#rhett in plaid

[lallyloo]

[x]

[delopsia]

HOLD ON

RHETT HAD A BEDROOM SET THIS WHOLE TIME, AND IM JUST NOW FINDING IT?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

THE BEER CAN ON THE SPEAKER? AND HE KEEPS ALL HIS RODEO BACK NUMBERS?? ALL THE BLANKETS?? THE CDS? THE ROCKING CHAIR?

"Rhett Abbott’s Bedroom… “Rodeo bull rider and youngest son. Always messy.” Courtesy of Prime Video ©Amazon Studios." Source

[sebsxphia]

.

[attapullman]

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: f! reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, fingering, swearing, alcohol, healthy dash of praise k!nk as usual

A Note From Mo: I blame reading an old fic I desperately wanted to re-write and having covid, strep, and my period all at the same time for whatever the fuck this is. Anyway, happy 6 months since the last time I wrote Rhett! xoxo

There’s something about waking up in a bed that isn’t yours that causes an anxiety like none other. Especially when the night before is a hazy blur. And you aren’t wearing any pants.

Wait, where are your pants?

Creamy morning light bleeds through the thin plaid curtains in the room. From your spot half-buried under the comforter, you notice the vaguely familiar rodeo posters tacked up on the wall and dust-covered flannels on the floor. The slight tinge of boy sweat engulfs the room. Definitely not a Tillerson room, but who the fuck did you go home with?

A quick body scan results in these observations:

Your jeans were long gone, but cheekies and tshirt still remained.

Your head was splitting open from the axe of a bad hangover.

Based on the groan that did not come from your body, there was definitely another person in the bed. And they were awake.

You flip over in bed, panicked. Praying to God that beside you is some random Wabang townie. But you would know those dark, grown out curls anywhere. He may be turned toward the wall, but you know him better than you know yourself.

“Rhett?”

A tentative hand leaves the warm cocoon of blankets to roughly shove your ex’s shoulder. He grunts with consciousness and a veiny hand rises up to rub at his eyes. Takes a moment to rake through those unruly curls. Flipping over onto his back, bright ultramarine eyes quirk up at you. 

“Good mornin’ to y’too, sunshine.”

It’s hard to remember everything you want to say when he’s looking entirely too delectable for the morning hours. Something you’d sweetly told him during your relationship, but after your swift uncoupling it’s downright rude of him.

“Why am I in your bed?” His eyes roll slightly as he lifts up onto his right arm, rolling the thick, labor-built muscles of his neck and back. It’s mesmerizing, watching him work out the kinks that come with his profession. Your eyes unable to leave where his hand massages over that bronc tattoo you’re still weak over. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”

He’s sexy as hell, but you’ve been doing a really good job avoiding him the past year.

“D’ya not remember any of last night?” Your head shakes, cheeks heating. “Not even a little? Oh fuck, really? You had quite t’night, darlin’.”

The color completely drains from your face. In your hey day, the two of you could drink the bar under the table, stumbling out of the Handsome Gambler with the sloppiest grins and even sloppier kisses. Drunken shenanigans were the norm. 

But since your breakup last year, nights out had been quiet. A beer or two, a tequila shot when the time called. Your friends don’t have the tolerance of a bull rider. And neither do you anymore, since you can’t remember much past that third shot of Don Julio.

How had you landed in bed with Rhett Abbott? 

As you watch him roll out his other shoulder, it’s like no time has passed since that night. Sitting in his truck, the front porch light on as your roommates wait for you to come in. Deciding that if he’s gonna be traveling the mountain states to make a name for himself, it’s not fair for you to be sitting at home worrying what bone would break. You can’t take off weeks to follow him around. You’re too young to sit around pining. He can’t handle all that time away from you. It just makes sense to call it quits. And yet tears poured down both your cheeks when you shut that truck door for the last time, Rhett Abbott no longer your business.

Why are you here?

Blinking back the ghost of tears, you clear your throat. “What kind of night exactly?”

In the past, a night of too much tequila in Rhett’s bed would have had Royal knocking on the door at an ungodly hour and Cecelia giving you an exasperated yet playful look when you snuck out the back door in the morning. 

“Do ya really want t’know what happened?” He’s leaning against the headboard, broad chest in view, sheets low on his hips. You say one last prayer that he’s wearing sweats so that you can still believe that you didn’t have a blackout fuck with your ex.

“I’m scared to ask,” you admit, the gentle smirk on his face confirming that this story is not going to paint you in a flattering light. 

Rhett’s head tilts down as he laughs, teeth flashing as the hearty grumble fills the room. Looks back up at you with that boyish mischievous grin you’ve loved for years. There’s a pillow indent still marring his cheek. Your heart lurches for him, for when you could call him yours.

His lip quirks. “Ya threw a rock at m’window in the middle o’the night. Begged me to let ya in. Told ya to go home, but ya threatened t’wake up my folks.”

Your cheeks flame with shame. Drunk you was not in your corner.

“Snuck ya in the back door, like ol’ times. Said yer friends had dropped ya off, so let ya stay until ya sobered up.” The burning embarrassment lifts a little, imagining you quietly climbing in bed and sleeping. But that unruly mischievous smile is back. “Then ya started tellin’ me how much you miss my cock and asked t’go for a ride.”

A hole opening in the earth and swallowing you couldn’t make you escape this embarrassment.

“Please tell me I didn’t-”

“Oh, but y’did, darlin’. It wouldn’t be a drunk night out with ya without asking for m’fingers. Practically gagging for it as I got ya upstairs.” He’s radiating pride. You risk a glance at those thick, calloused fingers. Yep, you can see yourself begging for even just one of them.

“Then ya started strippin’ off yer pants…forgot how cute yer booty looks shakin’ like that.” He lets out a joyful grunt, the happiest sound a cowboy ever did make. “Had to hold yer hands to yer side to keep it from bein’ a free strip show.” 

You swallow down every ounce of your dignity, the scene playing behind your eyes. Those strong hands wrapped around your biceps. Your cheeky comments, grinding your ass on any part of him you could. The lack of inhibitions on your part was concerning, but when had you ever been able to restrain yourself when it came to Rhett?

His giggles fade as you both sit against the rough wooden headboard, the one that is nearly as old as this creaky house. In the silence of the room you can now hear the busy sounds of his folks making breakfast. Figures they still have that louder than sin coffee machine. You could really use a cup.

He shifts beside you, the energy in the room softer. “Ya know, after y’fell asleep, I kept on thinkin’ about all the times ya stayed over here. Nights in the pasture. We were s’good…” He trails off, the silence filled with reminders of rushed kisses between rides, lazy afternoons on horseback, and too many days spent in the barn pretending to do chores while the two of you fell in love. 

It was you. You couldn’t handle the broken bones. The purpled bruises week after week. He loved it, and you couldn’t take that from him. So you had left a part of yourself with him and spent the past year pretending like you weren’t missing a limb. It was him. He didn’t want to be always missing home. Canceling rides purely so he could drive hours back here. He cut his losses before he was in too deep, spending the last year acting like a chunk of his heart wasn’t permanently cemented in you.

When you two crossed paths in town you exchanged sad glances and half-hearted smiles. Nights at the Handsome Gambler a drink was raised in greeting. It was as painful and as amicable as a breakup could be. But this was the closest the two of you had been since that night in his truck. The most you’d spoken other than forced hello’s. The most you’d touched since that last kiss goodbye.

Looking into those impossibly deep oceans he calls eyes, there was an emotion that you couldn’t read. His smile gone, thin lips bitten as he worried them between his teeth. Mirth replaced with angst.

You need to get out of here.

“M’sorry for interrupting your night. You know my libido has her own brain when I drink. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair - think Ce will notice me going out the back door?”

You’re barely off the bed when an arm, all hard muscle and thick veins, wraps around your bicep and brings you to a warm chest. “I-I…just for a minute, ‘kay?”

It’s the best you’ve felt in so long. Safe, warm. He’d shaped perfectly to accommodate you. It’s only natural to scoot closer into him, blurring the lines of ended relationships to seek his comfort.

Rhett’s heartbeat is solid beneath your cheek, speed picking up when you curl into him and run your hand along his side. The rumble of his chest vibrates as he clears his throat. “Ya don’t have t’ leave. I like havin’ ya here, missed holding’ ya, yer so soft.”

You hum in agreement and then there’s a beat, and you can almost see the bashful grin splitting his face. “And yer s’sexy in those panties.”

At least you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

One of those perfectly large, comforting hands slides down your side, hitching your hip up so you can straddle his thigh. That thick expanse of pure muscle was exactly where you belonged.

You were already here, already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go the whole way.

“Rhett?” His eyes latch onto yours, eager to hear from you. “I don’t have to go. If you want to, uh, catch up?” If his hungry smirk wasn’t an indicator, the twitch in his boxers below speaks volumes.

Aware there’s an old house with no sound proofing and an entire family downstairs eating bacon, he rolls you over onto your back, rippling biceps boxing you in. That confident smirk that looks as in place in bed as it does atop a two ton bull. The hungover logic in your brain pleading you to go home not nearly as strong as the instant spring of your legs landing either side of his hips.

His lips ghost over yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. The slightest groan left you, eager to feel him. Taste him.

“Please…please don’t tease me.” His smirk is bordering on arrogant as you wrap impatient hands around strong shoulders. Your libido was making her triumphant return after not being satisfied the night before, pooling in the apex of your thighs as he presses against you. You want Rhett, and you want him now.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, a shadow of the real thing. “If y’can be quiet f’me, I’ll give you m’fingers, darlin’.”

Dignity fades to the back of your brain as you quickly nod at him, lips pressed close like a good girl.

Scruff scratches along your jaw as he hums along your skin, pressing his weight to one side as calloused fingers make their way south, slipping and catching against your soft skin. Both your eyes fluttering as cotton is pushed aside and he finds your clit, rubbing the softest of circles. His little chuckle at how wet you already are. Small whimpers leaving you before he finally tilts his head down to smother your lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Fuck, he’s an even better kisser than you remember.

Running a hand through those unruly curls, letting the dark hair tangle between your fingers as you fight to keep your moans contained. A struggle as he presses deliciously on the button, delighted at how you squirm against him. Lips ghosting against your ear as he moans your name. “Doin’ s’good for me.”

While his thumb continues its mind numbing descent on your clit, the tips of his fingers brush against your folds. He knows you love a tease, the promise of what’s to come. His special trick to getting you to your orgasm in less time than he rides a bull.

“R-Rhett.” Your voice is barely audible, struggling to keep yourself from screaming his name to the heavens. Your fingers never feel this good, nothing could ever be as satisfying as his touch. Your pathetic whimpers picking up speed as the blinding white pleasure threatened to overtake you.

“Are ya gonna cum for me, darlin’? Y’know y’want to. Cum for me, baby girl, show me how good I make y’feel.”

Scruff against your neck and jaw as he showers you in kisses, whispers praises in your ear, fingers stroking and rubbing and bringing you closer to the promised land. Slips that wild tongue between your lips, groaning at your familiar taste, and that’s all it takes.

A thousand years could pass and you would still remember how all-consuming every orgasm is that Rhett Abbott has given you. The flash behind your eyes, the constriction of your chest. Thanking the good Lord that Rhett’s tongue is deep in your mouth to shush the pleasured scream that threatens to escape. 

You settle from your orgasm with soft kisses and his wet fingers trailing along your skin, soothing you. Not that it’s easy to be soothed when his erection is throbbing against your thigh. He’s hot and ready, prepared to take you all the ways he’s denied himself the past year.

You’re doing the mental math. Your ex giving you an orgasm isn’t that bad. Fucking him? That’s the kind of mistake you can’t undo and should be avoided.

But when you look in those midnight blue eyes, all reason hightails out the door. It’s just sex - not a relationship - you two are so good at sex. And it’s been so long since you’ve taken him for a proper ride.

Your fingers sink into the back of his boxers, itching to sink your fingers into the meat of his ass - hard and toned from hours riding. Tease him a little by pressing a kiss to that scruffy chin as he ushers you along, desperate to be inside you.

Just as you get the checkered material past his cheeks, there’s a knock at the door. Rhett’s a deer in the headlights above you; wide, scared eyes aimed at the door.

It’s Cecelia, speaking through the wood as she walks past with the laundry. “Rhett, hurry up, y’got chores in the barn.” 

The two of you exchange a glance, relief at being in the clear.

“Oh, and sweetie? Since you’re still here, if you want breakfast, there’s some extra bacon.”

Abandoning my normal tag list since it's not Bob and tagging some fellow Rhett bb's who might enjoy: @bobfloydsbabe @sorchathered @bobgasm @auroralightsthesky @creatchie8 @just-in-case-iloveyou @ryebecca @sebsxphia @lewmagoo

[nurse-floyd]

How to Smile Again - Chapter 1

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x driver!reader

Warnings: mentions of injury/ some sad feelings.

You arrive at the ranch and are introduced to Rhett who shows around your new home for the next few weeks.

Rhett Abbott taglist: @vivwritesfics

Rhett didn’t know the first thing about F1 when your trainer called him to enquire about you going for some rehab there, sure he’d seen Nascar on TV as he flipped through the sports channel but his life was pretty much horses. He knew you were a driver, knew you had to be pretty good to be 1 of 20 driving on the current grid as your trainer explained to him. He also knew that you’d worked hard to get where you were. He also knew you’d had a pretty severe crash that had landed you there. 

He didn’t do much digging after that, he mostly wanted to respect your privacy and go off of what your physio and trainer told him about the incident and your surgery. Together they worked out what would be best for you, but mainly you were there for a break. Being on the grid wasn’t good for you at the moment, and everyone could see that. 

You weren’t exactly happy about coming here. No, you were used to being the one in control, but after the bad crash at the Las Vegas Grand Prix had left you with a nasty leg injury requiring surgery and weeks of physio, you were out for the remainder of the season and maybe the next if you didn’t get your strength back. That’s how you found yourself here, at a freaking ranch of all places. Your trainer and physio thought time away from the circuit and a different form of therapy would be good for you mentally and physically. 

A man dressed in worn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a Stetson was standing at the gate for your arrival. ‘Of course he would be wearing a fucking Stetson,’ you thought to yourself as the car pulled up. 

Rhett watched as you climbed out of the car, your posture stiff as you looked around. He watched as you climbed out of the car, the limp in your step wasn’t hard to miss, and neither was the slight scowl you wore on your face. He could tell there was some reluctance about being here, but he’d already gotten the heads-up from your trainer that you probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods. Still, Rhett was used to it; you weren’t the first to not want to be here and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

He gave you a smile and held out his hand for you to take, “Hey, my name’s Rhett, you must be Y/N? Your physio and trainer have told me a bit about you.” 

You narrowed your eyes slightly at him and gave him a nod and took his hand, “Yeah. I’m not exactly thrilled to be here.” 

Rhett laughed, unfazed by your bluntness, “Yeah, they also said that you might say that. How about I show you around and then show you to the cabin you’ll be staying in?” 

You took a minute to look around before you gave him a nod, just wanting to get the day over with and call your physio to tell him you were right and this was a dumb idea. There was no denying the place was beautiful. Sprawling fields filled with horses grazing. There were a couple of young children being led around the stables outside with workers, big smiles on their faces. You pulled your baseball cap lower over your eyes as you made a move to follow him, “let’s get this over with.” 

Rhett took the bag from your shoulder and led you through the main path as he pointed out the different areas of the ranch. “We’ve got the stables over there, indoor and outdoor arenas, the tack room is over there but we mainly sort that out for you.” 

You finally made it towards the cabin and it was exactly what you expected. It looked run down but cozy enough for your stay, so you had no complaints. There was a swing seat on the porch, a few plant pots around the porch to make it seem a bit more homey. 

Inside was much the same as the outside. There was a small simple kitchenette, a couch with a coffee table, and a bed. It was cozy enough and it’d do, but it was definitely run down and in need of a makeover. “Sorry it’s not much. Planned to redecorate and update it but the horses keep me pretty busy. Still, bathroom’s over there and the wifi is decent,” Rhett took the Stetson from his head and ran his hand through his hair as he looked around. 

“No…it’s fine. Thanks, Rhett,” you reassured him. ‘Not that I’ll be here long enough for it to matter,’ you thought to yourself. 

“Listen, I know this is the last place you want to be and you’re probably not interested in being here, but we can take things at your pace. No rush. When you’re ready, you can head over to the stables and I can introduce you to some of the horses.” 

You gave him a small smile and then you were alone. You took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled out your phone to text your trainer. 

‘Seriously…’ 

Your phone flashed up with the three dots showing he was replying. 

‘Give it a chance, it’ll be good for you.’ He finished it off with a cowboy emoji, which made you roll your eyes. 

After about half an hour of lying on the bed, texting Max, Logan, and Danny how pissed you were, asking them how your reserve was getting on, and how much you were missing them, you thought you might as well not keep Rhett waiting any longer. 

As soon as he saw you heading towards the paddock where a few of the horses were grazing, Rhett made his way over to you. He joined you as you leaned against the fence and as soon as she saw him, a gorgeous piebald horse trotted over and nuzzled against his face. 

“This is Hope. She’s one of our best therapy horses and loves everyone.” You watched how Rhett's face lit up with a smile as he interacted with her. 

Another larger horse joined in as it noticed Rhett giving its pasture mate attention and gave a snort. 

“Alright, jealous!” he tutted as he gave the black horse who’d trotted over a scratch. “This is Toro. Don’t let the name fool you though, he’s a gentle giant.” 

You let out a small laugh at the name, causing Rhett to raise an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” you replied, “good name.” 

He pointed out the last few horses in the field, “Over there’s Penny, Belle, and Teddy. There are a few more horses in the stables that aren’t being ridden right now if you want to come and meet them too.” 

He was patient and walked at your pace as you both headed toward the stables. There were a few empty stalls as you walked down the middle aisle, “Sam and Billy are out in the ring at the moment, but they’re my smaller boys for the younger clients we get. There’s Heidi; she’s on rest at the moment so isn’t being used.” 

You paused in front of one of the occupied stalls where a beautiful bay horse had its head leaning over the stable door at the sound of Rhett’s voice. “This is my girl, Jojo. My niece chose the name, Jolene.” 

You held out your hand to stroke her nose, and Rhett finally thought he might be getting somewhere with you opening up a little. As you scratched at Jojo’s nose, another horse let out a loud whinny, stealing both of your attention as she kicked the door once as if you hadn’t heard her the first time. 

“Who’s that?” 

“That is Peanut, Pea to her friends,” Rhett said as he led you towards the stable housing the huge chestnut mare. “She’s not usually a part of the program, a bit too stubborn and hot-headed to pair with most of our clients.” 

She was gorgeous, there was no denying that. Sure, you’d ridden horses a few times when you were younger, but not for a long time, not since your entire focus turned to karting and then Formula One. In all your time, you’d never seen a horse as gorgeous as this. Her big brown eyes stared into yours and you forgot all about your injury for a moment until you felt a painful twinge shoot through your whole body. Then you were reminded of why you were here. You were here because you couldn’t be there, at the track where you belonged, where you knew Max, and Danny and Logan were this weekend. Then the anger came back. 

“Listen, I appreciate you doing this, but you don’t have to. I told my physio I’d try this out, but I really don’t think this is for me,” you sighed. “I can’t even run without my leg hurting, so how the fuck is getting on a horse going to help me?” You didn’t mean to snap, but you’d had a long day and you were tired and in pain. 

“Hippotherapy and equine-assisted therapy have been shown to help a lot of people recover physically from injuries like yours as well as from mental health problems, PTSD.” 

“I don’t have PTSD. There are no mental health issues,” you snapped a little more than you’d meant to. Not because you were being an asshole—well, maybe a little—but after all you’d been through, you couldn’t be blamed. “I was in a crash and I hurt my leg, that’s all.” You weren’t about to tell a complete stranger about the nightmares that still plagued you, the depression at seeing your friends compete, at seeing your reserve in your seat, not traveling the world and being in near constant pain. 

“I didn’t say you—” Rhett didn’t get a chance to explain himself before you were snapping again. 

“I’m only here because I’ve been sent here. If it were my choice, I’d be in the gym or at home doing anything but this.” 

Rhett sighed and held up his hands in surrender, “Fine by me. Let me know if you change your mind,” he walked off and left you alone to cool off. 

He left you standing there next to the huge beast who nudged you playfully with her nose. “Stop that,” you chided.  

Peanut, however, didn’t listen and nudged you again. Then she decided to up her game as she began nibbling on the hood of your jacket, “I said stop it,” you gently pushed her away but she insisted. She leaned in again, a playful snort leaving her lips as she grabbed the baseball cap from your head and lifted it high in the air, nodding her head as if she was tormenting you. 

“Jerk…” you muttered under your breath. You rolled your eyes, grabbed the hat back, and gave her a pat. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all.” You sniffed as tears threatened to spill over, and buried your face in her mane. “How did I end up here, girl?” 

She nuzzled into your side, as if knowing you needed comfort in the moment. You clung onto her neck, scratching at her neck as your tears soaked into her mane. 

Rhett watched on from the corner of the stables as he went about his work. He felt weird encroaching on such an intimate moment. He’d had Belle or Penny lined up for you, but maybe he’d just found the right match, or rather Pea had. It’d be a gamble choosing her for you; usually she wasn’t a part of the program, but his instinct told him she’d be good for you. From what he’d seen so far, he might just be right. 

He left you with Peanut as he went about the rest of his business for the day and let you get settled. He knew he had his work cut out for him but he was determined to help you get back to where you wanted to be most. Back on the grid racing.

[rhettmotel]

Kittens and Bugs

￫ Description: Rhett gets a kitten for his little 💕 🧸

￫ c/w: age regression.

￫ a/n: no use of y/n, no pronouns, just nicknames

Animals finding their way onto the Abbott Ranch was nothing new. Usually, it was dogs, which Royal either fostered until they found the owner or trained them to help with herding. What was new was Rhett heading out into the early hours of the morning and hearing a meek little mewl under the porch stairs.

He paused, frowning in the direction of the sound until he heard it again, crouching down to look under the stairs and reach out for the tiny little kitten that seemed to be having trouble getting itself out of a rut in the dirt. He made sure to pull on his work gloves before he grabbed the small animal, just in case it decided to bite, but it wasn't long before he was brushing the dirt off and bringing it into his plaid-covered chest. "Bug?" He calls out, "Can you come out here for a sec?"

You wander out onto the porch, rubbing at your eyes, wearing one of Rhett's t-shirts and a pair of his ratty old boxers. You always felt little in the morning and Rhett knew that, so he made sure to address you by your special nickname. You were Rhett's little bug.

"Look who I found." Rhett smiles, holding the squirming little kitten tight enough that it wouldn't get away.

You gasp excitedly, suddenly awake. "A kitty!! Can we keep him daddy? Please, please, please?" You beg, rocking on the balls of your feet.

"You read my mind, bugs." Rhett chuckles. I think he needs a friend, don't you?" He has no idea if the kitten was a boy or girl, but he was happy to go along with you, as usual.

"Uh-huh, I'll be his friend," You nod, crouching down with Rhett to take the kitten from him.

"Careful, sweetheart, he's still a bit skittish," Rhett warns; he was apprehensive, but the kitten hadn't bit him, so he felt okay handing the small thing off to you. "Be gentle,"

"I'm gentle, Daddy, I promise," You assure, bringing the kitten into your chest and kissing his head without a second thought. Rhett makes a small noise like he might try to stop the action, but it's over before he can.

"What're you gonna name 'em?"

"Goose!" You shout, with a happy little giggle.

Rhett nods with a smile. "That's a great choice. Now I got my bug and my goose," He says, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your forehead.

(This was inspired by @sebsxphia I adore your agere stuff 🥰)

[strawhbrrries]

rhett abbott + lazy sundays

The sun would peak through the curtains and splay across Rhett’s back in the early hours, slowly moving to the space on the floor just before the bed as the morning went on. On days you woke up early enough to admire the sun on his back you’d find yourself tracing words and letters onto the skin, poking each freckle, and scratching his back just lightly enough to elicit a groan.

“You're up early.” His voice was husky, throat dry from the mouth breathing he’d done all night.

His hair stood up in every direction, it was a miracle any amount of gel could keep it tamed. He’d turn his head in your direction and just look at you, the corners of his mouth turning into the biggest smile Rhett Abbott could muster this early in morning.

“Sun woke me up, just wanted to love on you.” Your voice barely above a whisper, smoothing some of his hairs down but ultimately failing as they shot right back up.

“Mmmm, you can love on me all you want.” He moved just close enough to you that he could give you a sweet kiss without having to get up. It was a lazy Sunday after all.

You’d spend the next few hours talking in whispers about anything and everything. Who he was going to ride against this week, your work schedule and how it was frustrating you this time, if you were up for aunt and uncle duties with Amy or not. After, and only after, you talked about everything under the sun did the two of you get up for the day. It was slow and took about thirty minutes, by the time the two of you were actually out of bed the sun had found its spot on the floor just above the bed.

He’d find a random pair of plaid pajama pants and slip them on, scratching his chest with a yawn as he made his way into the kitchen to start some coffee and breakfast. You slipped into the nearest robe and padded down to the kitchen to hug him from behind, kiss his back before laying your head against him and sighing. You could die happy just like this. He’d chuckle and squeeze the hand on his stomach before continuing breakfast, talking you through every step of what he was doing. He did it every time. You’d never get tired of hearing it.

Sundays always meant breakfast on the couch, some random cartoon that wasn’t nearly as good as the ones you grew up on playing in the back. You’d praise his cooking, as you always did, and savor the sweet peacefulness in front of you. After you ate, he’d take the dishes and wash them. You’d watch from the couch and think about how lucky you were to have a man that cooked and cleaned with no complaints. He’d come back and lay his head in your lap, your fingers playing with his hair and twirling it around your fingers. Sundays were your favorite day of the week.

[bradshawsbaby]

baby’s first christmas

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: based on this sweet prompt from @lostinthefandoms11! it’s a “one year later” follow up to the christmas gift, though it can also be read on its own.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and breastfeeding, lots of fluffiness, rhett being the best husband and girl dad ever ♥️

You’d had a lot of wonderful Christmas mornings throughout your life, mornings that were full of magic and wonder and an indescribable joy that you could never quite put your finger on, but that only seemed to come around that one time of year.

This Christmas morning put all those other wonderful mornings to shame.

Opening your eyes slowly, bundled cozily under the warmth of not one, not two, but three heavy blankets, you immediately noticed the way the pale morning light was streaming into the bedroom, casting scattered beams across the scarred wooden floor. It had snowed heavily last night, and you could tell without even lifting your head that the frost had piled up on the windowpanes, creating a scene so picturesque, it could have been featured on the front of one of the Christmas cards your parents sold in their general store. Cheek pressed against your pillow, you gazed at the space beside you in the bed that had never felt quite so comfy as it did in that moment. It was empty, but you knew from the way the bed dipped by your feet that you weren’t alone.

A slow smile spread across your face as you heard the soft rumblings of your husband’s voice, raspy from sleep and so deep that it instantly turned your insides to molasses. You loved his voice, loved listening to him no matter what it was he was saying, but you especially loved to listen to him when he was talking to your little girl.

The two of them must have woken up just moments before you, judging from the conversation Rhett was carrying on.

“Did you sleep good, baby girl?” Rhett was asking, his voice filled with so much tenderness that you felt an almost painful yearning start blooming in your chest. “Must have, huh? You didn’t make one peep. Me and your mama really appreciate that, you know, gettin’ to sleep through the night and all that. You passed right out at Grandma and Grandpa’s house last night. And you didn’t even have any of Grandpa’s eggnog,” he murmured quietly. “Lucky you,” he added in a whisper, making an exaggerated noise of disgust.

You bit back a laugh at that, not wanting Rhett to know you were awake yet. You just wanted to revel in this precious, unfiltered moment between your husband and daughter for a few moments longer.

Shifting your head slightly, you turned your gaze towards the end of the bed, where Rhett was sitting with your four-month-old daughter ensconced safely in his strong arms. His back was turned towards you, so you knew you were safe to look on without him spotting you. Evidently he’d stripped off the flannel pajama shirt you’d purchased for him at some point during the night, because he was now shirtless, the only sign of this year’s matching Christmas pajamas the plaid pants that were slung low around his waist. You rolled your eyes, amused as always by your husband’s disdain for the Christmas jammies tradition you were determined to maintain.

Thankfully, your daughter didn’t yet seem to have such qualms. Though you could only see her tiny feet from this angle, squirming enthusiastically in her daddy’s arms, you were happy to observe that she was still sporting her plaid Christmas onesie. She let out a soft coo that instantly warmed your heart with the intense love that had been taking your breath away on a constant basis since the moment of her birth.

“I know,” Rhett nodded, as if your baby girl had just told him something of the utmost importance. You could tell from the angle of his arm that he was letting her hold onto his finger, one of her favorite pastimes. “Snow on your first Christmas. Aren’t you a lucky little lady? I mean, it is Wyoming, so it does snow here most Christmases. But not always, so you’re real lucky to have a genuine white Christmas this time around. Your mama will be real happy. She wants you to have a perfect Christmas, baby girl. That’s why she put you in these horrible pajamas.”

You fought the urge to kick him.

“Nah, I’m just messin’. Don’t tell her I told you that,” he whispered conspiratorially. He was quiet for a moment, sighing contentedly as he rocked your tiny daughter in his arms. “I love you so much, you know that? You and your mama. I don’t need any presents under the tree because I have the two of you. Did you know that last Christmas is when your mama told me about you? You were still in her belly then, but you were the greatest gift I’ve ever been given in my life. You still are, Ruthie.”

Tears trickled out of your eyes and leaked into your pillow as you lay there and listened to your husband’s sweet words of love and affection. You thought it wasn’t possible to love him any more than you already did, but that was before you had seen him become a father. The way he loved Ruth took your breath away.

Your daughter’s name had been Rhett’s idea. Not long after the two of you had learned that you were carrying a girl, he’d crawled into bed one night and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck.

“I’ve been thinking some more about baby names,” he told you, picking up a conversation you’d been having on and off for a couple weeks. “What about Ruth?”

“Ruth?” you repeated, mulling the name over in your mind. You liked it, but it wasn’t one you had been expecting Rhett to suggest.

“Yeah, you know, like Baby Ruth,” Rhett grinned, running a hand over your rounded belly.

“Rhett, we can’t name our baby after a candy bar,” you rolled your eyes in response, smirking.

“Well, Ruth also means ‘compassionate friend.’ Isn’t that a good thing?” At your raised eyebrows, he admitted, “Okay, so I was flipping through that baby names book of yours. Anyway, what do you think?”

“Hmm, Ruth Abbott,” you murmured contemplatively, tapping your chin. “Ruth Abbott.” You loved the idea of your daughter having the same initials as her daddy—R.A. “I like it,” you smiled.

“Really?” Rhett asked, beaming. He looked so proud of himself that you would have gladly named your baby after any candy bar that he wanted.

So Ruth Abbott your baby girl was. Or Ruthie, as everyone liked to affectionately call her.

Ruth suddenly let out a loud yawn, which was all the funnier for how small she was. Rhett started chuckling, lowering his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Too early for you, baby girl? I’m surprised we’re both up before your mama. She loves Christmas morning.”

Grinning, you decided to finally make your presence known.

“I’m awake,” you laughed, nudging him with your foot from under the blankets.

Turning around, Rhett raised an eyebrow and grinned down at you. “Oh, so you are, honeybee. Good mornin’.”

“Good morning,” you smiled, sitting up in bed and leaning over to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Rhett murmured softly, dropping a kiss on the top of your head.

“Merry Christmas, my angel,” you cooed, brushing your fingers against your daughter’s silky smooth cheek.

“Ruthie and I have been very impatiently waiting for you to wake up,” Rhett told you, his lips twitching in amusement as he looked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Just desperate to get downstairs and tear open all those presents?” you teased, stroking your daughter’s soft head.

“I mean, Ruthie is, yeah. She was just telling me,” Rhett joked, winking at you.

“Mhm, sure,” you smirked, resting your other hand on your husband’s back as you tilted your head up to press a kiss to his lips. “Cold out there with the snow,” you whispered against his mouth. “You better put your shirt back on.”

Rhett groaned, rolling his eyes. “See, Ruthie? What did I tell you about Mama and her awful Christmas pajamas?”

“She loves her Christmas jammies. Don’t you, Ruthie?” you asked, gazing down at your smiling baby. “You’re outnumbered, babe,” you told Rhett.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Rhett hung his head. “I guess I am.”

Ruth, your usually happy, smiley baby, suddenly began squirming more forcefully in Rhett’s arms, her face scrunching up and soft cries beginning to emanate from her throat.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone might be hungry,” Rhett said, shifting on the bed so that was he facing you more fully.

You nodded, already feeling your breasts, swollen and heavy with milk, starting to leak at the sound of your daughter’s cries. “Time for someone’s Christmas breakfast,” you grinned, opening up your pajama shirt before taking Ruth into your arms.

“You get her all fed, honeybee, and I’ll get things set up downstairs,” Rhett said as he climbed off the bed, kissing your forehead and gently stroking the back of your daughter’s head as she latched onto your nipple and began suckling hungrily.

“Don’t forget your shirt!” you called out as he began moving towards the door. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he let out another pained sigh before snatching up his flannel shirt and slipping it over his head.

“I should make this your Christmas present,” he teased, shooting you another wink before ducking out of your bedroom.

“Daddy’s so silly, but he’s never going to win this one,” you cooed down to your baby girl in a sing-song voice as she nursed.

You enjoyed the several moments of quiet bonding time with your daughter, rocking her gently in your arms as she drank her fill of milk. When she finally pulled off, a bit of milk dribbling down her chin, her eyes looked heavy and her tiny mouth was hanging open.

Laughing, you carefully lifted her onto your shoulder and patted her back. “Someone’s a little milk drunk, huh?” you joked, smoothing out her onesie. “But we don’t want to keep Daddy waiting,” you grinned, kissing the side of her head. “Let’s get downstairs.”

As you began carrying Ruth down the stairs, you smiled brightly at the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of the Christmas album Rhett had apparently set up on the old record player you’d found at a thrift store not far outside of Wabang. Walking into the living room, you beamed at the sight of the Christmas tree, twinkling brightly in the morning light.

“There are my two girls,” Rhett grinned, his words making your stomach flip pleasantly and settling around you like a cozy blanket. “What do you think, Ruthie? How’s your first Christmas morning?” he asked, scooping your baby girl into his arms, supporting her head carefully. At her wide yawn, he chuckled. “That good, huh?”

You giggled, going to grab one of her blankets from the small bassinet in the corner of the room. “The milk was just too good this morning,” you teased playfully, handing your husband the blanket to wrap around you daughter.

“Hey, I get it. I like Mama’s boobies, too,” Rhett nodded.

“Rhett Abbott!” you gasped, fighting back laughter as you smacked his arm.

“What? I do,” Rhett winked, causing your cheeks to warm in pleasure despite yourself.

“Your daddy is fresh,” you told Ruth, shaking your head as you smiled. “Want me to go get the coffee?” you asked, shifting your focus to your husband.

Rhett nodded, settling down on the sofa with the baby. “Should be ready,” he told you, peppering your daughter’s face with soft kisses.

You prepared two steaming mugs of coffee—yours with cream and sugar, Rhett’s black—and carried them back into the living room, your heart melting at the sight of your daughter resting in your husband’s lap, her tiny hands wrapped around two of his fingers. You didn’t even realize you were standing there staring until Rhett finally looked up at you and grinned.

“Whatcha doin’ there, honeybee?” he chuckled, bouncing Ruth up and down in a gentle rhythm.

Shaking yourself out of your private little reverie, you smiled and stepped forward, setting the two mugs down on the coffee table and then curling up with your family on the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just enjoying this Christmas morning,” you explained, resting your head on your husband’s shoulder. “I think it’s the best one I’ve ever had.”

Rhett smiled at that, kissing you tenderly. “That makes two of us, honeybee.”

[jungle-angel]

"I Need A Nurse" (Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Rhett doesn't usually like to admit when he needs help, but after a particularly rough ride, you can tell he's gonna need it

Rhett couldn't believe how much pain he was in let alone how much of an angry little asshole that bull had been, bucking him off into the dirt and almost parking his rear end on top of him. He had placed first, thank the Lord, but his shoulder was absolutely killing him, the burning pain shooting through his shoulder, into his neck and down his back.

I've gotta quit or I'll never hear the end of it from (y/n)......he thought to himself.

He knew he couldn't do this forever yet the funding for your dream home in Bozeman was riding on it....literally. You and him had Amy to raise along with Hannah and your boys who would be coming soon. To say nothing of the fact that fall was fast approaching around the corner and that new critters were popping up every which way around the ranch.

Rhett stumbled along the rodeo grounds, approaching the area where Rip, Kayce, John, Wes and Royal were all waiting for him, his left arm placed against his chest and part of his vest bunched in his fist.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes," Royal chuckled, sitting him down on a feed crate.

"Feel like I just got hit by a bus," Rhett groaned.

"You seein stars or anything?"

Rhett shook his head.

"You feel like you're gonna throw up?"

Rhett shook his head again.

"Alright," Royal told him. "Grab your shit, let's go home."

Rhett and Royal began making their way to the truck when they were met by you, Amy, Hannah and Cecelia.

"There's my king," you chirped, kissing Rhett on the cheek.

He smiled weakly, wincing as he tried to take Hannah from your arms, your bump having grown completely obvious, even under Rhett's old Carhardt hoodie.

"Rhett?" you asked, the concern creeping into your voice. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

Royal took Hannah instead and covered her little ears so Rhett could speak. "Fuckin asshole almost sat on me while I was in the dirt," he chuckled.

You laughed a little yourself, the baby boys in your belly kicking up a storm. "C'mon," you told him. "We're going home."

You rode with Cecelia and the girls while Rhett and Royal went by themselves, the drive back to the ranch quiet as the whole of Wabang seemed to pass by in a brightly colored blur.

"Might wanna go see Pete and the clinic tomorrow," Royal told him. "Make sure that shoulder's not dislocated."

Rhett groaned at the thought. Just another thing to add on his list of shit to do. "Don't we have to go to court next week?" he asked sleepily.

"I do but you don't," Royal informed him. "Perry violated the no-contact order we had for Amy when you and (y/n) took custody of her when she was born. I talked to the judge, he said he'd be willing to hear the case. John's gonna be there with us so Perry won't think to try anything."

Rhett was relieved. As much as people feared his godfather, John Dutton, Rhett couldn't have asked for anyone else to have as his uncle.

After what seemed like forever, Royal pulled the truck up into the driveway, parking as close as he could to the house so Rhett could get out of the truck. Rhett shuddered and shivered as the burning pain tore through his shoulder. Even opening the door to the house was painful.

"Alright," you told Rhett, kissing his cheek and then his lips. "You get upstairs and get in the bath. Your mom will take care of the girls."

Rhett stumbled up the stairs with you waddling close behind, entering the bathroom and running a hot bath full of cedar and citrus scented epsom salts that quickly filled the bathroom.

"Darlin don't fuss over me," he insisted as you helped him strip his shirt off. "I don't need a nurse."

"Damnit Rhett, you've got a fucked up shoulder and you need to relax," you told him firmly.

Rhett rolled his eyes as you carefully helped him off with his plaid button-down, minding his bad shoulder before his pants came off and then his shorts. After having been stripped completely naked, Rhett eased himself into the steaming hot water and let out a groan that made your legs clench a little.

You stuck a washcloth into the hot water, letting it soak up before you started washing his face and the back of his neck. "Thought I'd be the one to do this to you," he chuckled.

"Don't worry," you assured him, kissing his forehead. "You'll have plenty of time to do this for me."

For once, Rhett was relieved that he could just relax for a little while and forget about the pain he was in. You brought in a t-shirt and navy blue sweatpants for him, helping Rhett out of the bath to dry off and get into a fresh set of clothes.

Despite the pain he was in, Rhett managed to sneak in and kiss Amy and Hannah goodnight before crawling in next to you. He desperately wanted to roll over and put his hand on your bump, to be able to feel the kicking of his little boys who would soon be entering the world, but the pain in his shoulder told him otherwise.

Yet the very next day, after his arm had been put in a sling, much to the chagrin of Pete, the doctor who owned the clinic, Rhett was still able to hold your hand as you both gazed at the grainy ultrasound image of your boys, nested side by side in your belly and waiting to enter the world.

[lallyloo]

[x]

[delopsia]

Rhett's wardrobe of plaid & stripes ღ Bonus: a singular blue hoodie

[beachbabey]

In The Stables

(Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: approx 1k

Warnings: smut, piv sex, minors do not interact, forbidden love, social hierarchy

Rhett stands near his workbench, his back facing you, wiping his hands dry with a rag when you peeked your head around the door of the ranch. The sound of your boots on the dirt road caught his attention, turning around and giving you a knowing smile

“What does Daddy need now?” he asks knowingly, leaning against the bench and folding his arms over his chest

You nodded slowly, murmuring something about firewood, not even registering his words as you looked him up and down, his favourite, worn-in plaid jacket had been hung up, left in his once white cotton shirt, now smeared with what looked like either dirt or coal, his suspenders and his working trousers, just looking the rough brown cotton wrapped around his thighs, it reminds you of how he made you ride them that one afternoon in the meadow, your cheeks bloom in a mix of embarrassment and lust at the memory. And although your Rhett isn't a mind reader, that blush tells him all he needs to know about the reason for your visit.

He approaches you with slow, meaningful steps, reaching for your waist, you hesitate, taking a small step back

“Rhett, you're filthy,” you say with a small laugh. “You’ll get my dress dirty.”

"Think you like me dirty, little miss" he hummed with a purr, grabbing you roughly by your skirt and pulling you into him. He takes a deep breath, smelling your hair and the perfume you so obviously spritzed on your neck before you went off to find him, snarling a little.

"You smell so fuckin' good..."

"And you smell like coal" you giggled.

"Yeah? I bet it's makin' you wet already"

Before you could snap at him for being so crude (but undeniably accurate) he spins you around and shoves you up onto his workbench, Whimpering but relenting to it, spreading your legs instinctually.

“Been a while darlin' hm?” he huffs against your neck as he messily shoves your dress up to your hips, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. “Y'know better than to make me wait so long. not gonna be all gentle an’ sweet with you now."

You shiver in anticipation as your drip on his shoulders tightens. “Sorry” you whimpered, keeping your voice as quiet as possible, not knowing when the other farmhands would come in "I was gonna come sooner, but..."

“Old man’s onto us, ain't he?” he grinned, seeming almost proud of it even though he knew how bad it would be for the both of you if your father found out.

“Maybe not, you're a good girl aren't you? Would never get caught kissin' a stable boy like me”

“I am! I'm a good girl, i-”

You gasp softly as you felt his cock press up to you through his trousers —fully hard already, the thickness of him making your head spin. He's right, it had been too long.

His hand cups your jaw and he gives you a rough kiss, teeth clashing against each other, he always took complete control when he kissed you, and you'd always let him without a word of protest or complaint. Your hands travel to free his cock from the confines of his pants. He warned you about his impatience, but it was still all so sudden, and you gasped as he slipped inside you with one fluid motion.

"Always so fuckin' perfect for me" he groaned, his eyebrows knitted together as the sensation of you clenching down on him caused him to tilt his head back. It was too much for the both of you; you dig your nails into his shoulder blades, hiding your face in his chest as he splits you open. Even with no preparation at all, you were wet enough, but he was big enough for it to sting every single time.

The pain fades after a few slow thrusts, you sigh and look up at him; with one arm wrapped gently but firmly around your waist, he grins cheekily down at you and lifts his other hand to hold the back of your head, ever the gentleman, soft and gentle even when he was fucking you senseless, your mind going soft and vision going fuzzy around the edges.

"Missed this, hm? Missed getting fucked this good? Lord knows I missed this cunt, so damn much. thought about it day and night" he coos in a gentle voice, his tone the complete opposite of his words, you'd have to spend hours on your knees on Sunday for this, maybe the Sunday after that too, you'd be thinking about this for months, willingly letting it poison your thoughts on the nights you couldn't visit him.

The juxtaposition of his actions and his words left you begging, chanting his name between whimpers and moans as he kept his grip on the fat of your hips as he pounded into you, pushing your chest towards his own to keep you from falling backwards.

He smiles with half-lidded eyes at your expression, a cherry flush going from your cheeks all the way down to beneath the top of your dress, your eyes almost rolling backwards, he could tell you were fighting the submission your body was screaming for, trying to keep from trembling and convulsing as his thrusts got impossibly deeper

"Good girl," he praises you, "good fuckin' girl."

"Rhett please, fuck" you sobbed.

"I know, I know," he hushes you, "Y'cant help it, it's okay darlin' I know, you can come now darlin', come for me, please?"

With that beg, you were falling over the edge, back arching up off the bench with a loud cry of his name. He dutifully fucked you through the high until his own climax was close, leaning his head down into your cleavage, his tongue laving up and down at any skin he could get to as he spills inside of you, leaving damp spots of his spit all over the collar of your dress

"Rhett you dog!" you giggle, slapping him gently on the back of his head

With his head still buried in your chest, he slowly raises up to leave a line of stray kisses up to the side of your mouth.

"Better go back up to the big house soon, baby," he whispered, "tell your old man ill bring up some more kindling in a little bit"

[hangmanapologist]

I keep thinking about soft Rhett Abbott.

Rhett Abbott who sings in the shower but only when he’s staying at your place. Rhett Abbott who loves the sound of rain on the porch at night. Rhett Abbott who will definitely bring home any stray he sees. Rhett Abbott who will whistle along to the radio while he makes breakfast in your sun soaked kitchen on a Sunday morning. Rhett Abbott barefoot in nothing but his plaid pyjama pants. Rhett Abbott who turns into a clingy house cat when he’s tired and all he wants is his face in the crook of your neck. Rhett Abbott who blushes when you call him baby. Rhett Abbott who-

[sebsxphia]

soft thought for you: imagining the breakfast scene from the first ep of outer range but it’s you and rhett and your kids, a boy and a girl. you’re making sandwiches, your daughter’s telling her baby brother a story. rhett slept in because he had a late event bull riding the night before, and comes down all sleepy-eyed. just imagining him squeezing your daughter’s shoulders saying “how’re you doing?” in that cute voice, picking up your baby boy and making him squeal with laughter, stealing bacon from the table even though you said you’d have his breakfast ready in a minute. imagining him giving you a kiss on the back of your neck and then another on the top of your head to say good morning, getting you to sit down while he finishes with the sandwiches and the kids prep for school/church/etc. just… mornings with rhett 😍

ABBIE my HEART, PLEASE 🥺

this is exactly what i was thinking about when i was screaming about rhett in the breakfast scene with amy the other day. the kiss on the back of your neck and then another on the top of your head to say good morning? i got butterflies 🥺

it’s domestic chaos. your children are babbling on, the pan sizzling and the pot of coffee brewing. rhett comes down in his well fitted jeans and worn out t-shirt with a plaid jacket thrown over, ready for the physical working day.

your little girl is squealing and asking her daddy if he won last night, to which rhett bounces your little boy on his hip and eagerly declares, “yeah-huh! yes daddy did!” your little girl claps her hands excitedly and begs for her daddy to tell her everything, not before rhett can steal some of her bacon first.

“y’ let me have a piece and i’ll tell ya.” he asks, amusement in his voice and with a charming as ever smile. she’s a daddy’s girl through and through.

you turn around from the hob to watch the scene unfold with a bright smile on your face. when you met the rugged cowboy all those years back, you never thought you would see the day he would be a happy father in a well furnished, warm and loving home.

“mornin’, darlin’.” rhett mumbles against the bare skin of your neck after placing a soft kiss there. his large hands gently squeeze around your hips and ever so slightly pin you to the stove. “sit down, will you? i’ll finish.” his firm, but appreciative words are warm in your ear and you still get butterflies. he’s asking you to sit down and eat breakfast with your children, but your thighs still clench.

he takes your kids to school and nursery, throwing their lunch boxes and respective jackets in the truck and hauling them all in. it’s a fast blur every morning, yet somehow, you always remember them when he���s gone.

eeeek thank you so much for this totally sweet and soft thought my love! 💌

[attapullman]

Hi, me again. Lol I would love to see your take on Rhett and reader getting busy at his house because they think it's empty. Turns out... it's not as empty as they thought. 👀😏

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions kind of plays into Rhett forgetting anyone is home, but here's some of Rhett not checking his phone because you know that boy has like 15 unread texts at any given time.

18+ it's not technically smut but like, kids go play your Pokemon, nothing to see here

Drabble Day

You pull away from his scruffy jaw, tapping the back of your head against the rickety farmhouse doorframe. “Rhett, your parents are home.”

Your cowboy whines against your cheek, twisting to get back at your lips. Hips rutting against yours from where he has you pinned against the shingled siding of the house. It feels like high school all over again, kissing in the shadows so the porch light doesn’t alert the house of your activities.

“No one’s home,” he breathes against the corner of your lip, hand coming up to hold the back of your neck to gain back his control. You melt too easily in his grip. “Church potluck. No trucks in the yard, house all t’ourselves.”

His smile shines bright white in the night.

It doesn’t take much convincing - the knee he’s had pressed between your thighs is a strong negotiator - before you are equally dragging each other inside and up the stairs. 

The house is silent, not a sound to be heard except for the heavy breaths between the wet press of lips. Rhett hauls you to the right, his bedroom door slightly open and revealing the messy array of plaid bedspread and old CDs you’ve come to love. But with a house all to yourselves, Rhett can’t help but heat at the idea of enjoying you in every room in the house he’ll one day inherit. Starting with the hallway.

The hard edges of the rough wall paneling dig into your back as Rhett wraps your legs around his hips, thick bulge grinding into you with all the strength he uses atop a bucking bull. The scrape of denim on denim limits the sensation, but leaves you with an anticipation that itches along your skin. Deft fingers slip under the hem of your tshirt, pulling it as high up your chest as possible with your back still to the wall. A high whine leaves your lips, desperate.

There’s a clatter. A light illuminates Rhett’s face from the left.

On the other end of the hallway stand Royal and Cecelia, a workman’s flashlight clenched in Royal’s fist and trained directly on Rhett and his swollen lips.

While you two had been watching the drive-in and sharing cold fries, the engine in the Abbott truck died with no hope of a quick fix, so singing Billy Tillerson gave them a ride. If their youngest son had bothered to check his phone, he would know.

“Goddam’it, Rhett!”

[rhettabbotts]

no but wearing something like this for dilf!rhett i know he would combust and possibly rip it off as soon as he sees it

OH NONNIE YOU JUST BROKE MY BRAIN

rhett is propped up against the headboard reading a book when you walk out of the bathroom wearing the intricate lingerie set. he looks up to see you standing with your back against the door frame and you’re playing with your thumbs, clearly nervous. he had never seen you in anything like this before and he can feel his cock stirring in his plaid pajama pants. he lets out a low whistle before taking his reading glasses off and placing them on the bedside table along with the book.

“c’mere, honey,” he beckoned you over to him with a crook of his finger. you shuffled towards him, crossing your arms over your chest in an effort to cover yourself. “none of that, now. let me see you.”

his hands found purchase on your waist, fingertips tracing along the embroidered flowers. they traveled upwards, callouses causing goosebumps to follow in their wake. his big palms grabbed your breasts, massaging them with a slightly rough touch. your nipples stiffened into peaks as he brushed his thumbs over them, eliciting a whine out of you.

“look so pretty, babygirl. you dress up just for daddy?” his voice was deep, the tone of it causing you to shiver. he placed a kiss to your stomach, looking up at you as you ran your hand through his greying strands.

“all for you. always for you,” you spoke softly, stepping closer to him from where you stood between his legs.

“it’s a shame that i have to rip it off of you. guess that means i’ll just have to buy you more.”