#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

[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.

[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.

[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! 💌

[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-

[deathsplaything]

It's Time for Tea || Alistair & Rhett

LOCATION: High Tea TIMING: Before What If PARTIES: Alistair (@deathsplaything) and Rhett (@ironcladrhett) SUMMARY: Rhett and Alistair decide to go to a high tea to cause some chaos. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

As far as Alistair McKenzie was concerned, gender was a social construct. As soon as the opportunity had presented itself in the form of a fellow unhinged blind man terrorizing fancy old women trying to enjoy a tea party, the necromancer had jumped at the opportunity, dressed in brown corduroy pants and a dark green buttoned shirt with a leaf pattern on it, as well as a pair of heeled ankle boots with dragonflies embroidered on them. Upon his head was a large, black, floppy hat with a dragonfly broach stuck through it. His shoulder-length red hair was half tied up and curled. Clearly, they’d taken a lot of care into their appearance today. In one hand was Brutus’s harness, who was dressed with a navy bowtie on his collar, and in the other was a smaller floppy hat with flowers attached to it. If he and this new friend of his were going to irritate the old women who frequented this establishment, they would do so as stylishly as possible.

The two had agreed to meet at the side of the fancy tea house before going in together. As the necromancer heard approaching footsteps, they raised a brow and gave a lopsided grin. “I hope you’re who I think you are and not the staff.” Alistair called out. “Otherwise I have a long uber drive home.” He handed the hat out in front of him. “For you, good sir, as discussed.” He gave a low bow, as if getting into character. “Shall we show these old ladies what a good time looks like? Drink some tea and maybe start a mini sandwich fight?” 

They grinned, exposing their teeth at the idea. Alistair’s round sunglasses were the only thing concealing the mischief that was shining in their eyes. “The name’s Alistair McKenzie.” They introduced with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, fellow creature of chaos.”

—

He’d barely needed to explain the plan to his daughter before she was clapping her hands together excitedly and announcing that they were going thrifting. He didn’t know what that meant until he was in it, climbing down off the bus after Ophelia with his metal leg and his cane, letting her hold on to his arm as they moved down the line of storefronts, until… ah. 

It’d been an all-day affair, but the two had managed to find him something suitably flashy and obnoxious to wear, and Rhett actually found himself smiling, forgetting for a few hours all that he’d endured that’d brought him to this point, this state of infuriating uselessness. For a few hours, he was just having a good time with his kid, trying on ridiculous secondhand clothes and making her laugh. Ophelia, in turn, was just glad her dad had made plans with a new friend and that those plans weren’t going to be dangerous, just ridiculous. It was a breath of fresh air in what had otherwise been a pretty miserable few weeks for them. 

When the day arrived, Rhett donned his blue plaid slacks and solid blue vest over a white button-up, honestly probably looking nicer than he had in quite a while. Ophelia pulled his curly gray hair into a flattering up-do, and carefully tucked a silk square into his breast pocket, then accented it with a fresh sprig of rosemary. You’ll look nice and smell nice, she’d insisted. Who was he to argue? His one shoe was a stylish boot, the other foot, well… some sort of three-toed, metal claw contraption he’d forged for himself. It was for balance, not aesthetics, after all.

Limping up to the agreed meeting spot, his companion was hard to miss. A smirk settled on his grizzled features as he approached, seeing the hat extended to him and taking it gratefully. “Aye, m’ the one here fer mischief,” he concurred, giving the hat a quick inspection before plopping it on his head. Wouldn’t you know it, the color of the blooms actually went well with his shade of blue!

Watching Alistair bow, Rhett snorted. “Hell yeah. Ain’t been in a proper food fight since I was three. ‘Bout time, eh?” An introduction was made, and the warden straightened himself up (even though Alistair couldn’t see it), clearing his throat slightly before speaking. “Rhett Tangaroa. Nice to… meet you, et cetera.” He wasn’t great with fancy verbiage, clearly. Tapping his cane on the ground, he looked in the direction of the entrance. “Right, well, best get on with it. Don’t wanna keep this captive audience watin’ any longer!”

—

Unable to stop the snicker from escaping past their lips. “Three? Well, maybe there will be time to stop at a restaurant afterward, as finger foods will barely do anything for you.” Alistair made a face, thinking of the little triangle cucumber sandwiches that will inevitably be served. “And by afterward, I mean when we’re kicked out so fast our heads spin.” 

The spellcaster had almost forgone Brutus and chose to use a white mobility cane but decided if they were going to get kicked out for being unruly, they might as well teach the old bats something along the way. “Hopefully, I won’t be given a hard time for Brutus,” Alistair murmured as they approached the entrance. “Follow my lead,” they spoke before pushing the door open and walking into the building.

“Welcome to L'heure du thé.” The hostess said with a bright smile, looking between the two. She glanced down at the dog, noticed his bowtie, then smiled. “Just the two of you today?” She asked, which earned a nod from Alistair in turn. “Great, follow me.” She spoke, gesturing to the man who seemed to have some sight. Alistair gave a soft command to Brutus in Gaelic, which caused the big dog to follow the woman with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. 

The woman was kind, taking the time to help Alistair navigate toward the seat. She said nothing about Brutus, which they were very grateful for. After the girl walked away, a man in a tailcoat walked up to the table and gave a polite smile. “Welcome! I am Jacque, your waiter for this afternoon.” Alistair tilted their head to the side then looked over in the direction of their waiter’s voice. “Could you read out the teas for me? I’m blind.” They explained with a polite but tight smile. If they were going to cause a bit of mayhem, might as well start off on the right foot as opposed to being trouble right off the bat. 

“Of course, sir.” The waiter listed off the teas. “We have Earl Grey, chai, peppermint, camomile, fruit, herbal, and, of course, English breakfast.” Jacques clapped his hands together, that same air of superiority about him. “I’ll take Earl Grey.” Alistair spoke with a smile. “And give us the spread.” They quickly added. “My friend here has never experienced the fun that is high tea.” The spellcaster moved his head over in Rhett’s direction and gave the man a wink. “Very good, sir. And what tea will you have?” Jacques asked Rhett. Alistair, who figured the man knew very little about tea, smirked. “He’ll have chai.” Alistair answered for him, and the man went on his way. 

After Jacques had walked away, Alistair tipped his sunglasses below his eyes, his almost amber eyes twinkling with delight. “I can smell fish and eggs. Seems like you will be eating fancy today.” 

—

God, what an affair this already was. Unable to stop himself thinking that French really was a dumb-sounding language, Rhett was quiet while Alistair interacted with the hostess and waiter in turn, doing little more than raising an eyebrow at the coattails. The brutish part of him was annoyed the Alistair had ordered for him, but whatever remained of his logical brain realized and understood that it was for the best, so he was able to stifle the flare of vexation in favor of being grateful that he had yet to be put on the spot when it came to… speaking. He was not very good at speaking.

The glance over the top of Alistair’s glasses did bring a small smile to his face, but of course he remembered only after a beat that his companion couldn’t see it. Fuck’s sake, he was bad at this, despite being damn nearly mostly blind himself. Figured that he’d take what he still had for granted, that’s just the kind of person he was. So, for good measure, he added a soft, uncertain chuckle. 

“Oh aye? Fish n’ eggs? What makes that so fancy? Posh folk like the stinky food, eh?” Stinkier the better, he thought. More fun to fuck around with. Not that he could really judge their taste in food… it wasn’t like he ate well. Hell, some of the things he ate weren’t even supposed to be eaten. Fish and eggs was probably a huge step up from whatever he’d been putting in himself the last week.  

—

Alistair ran a hand through their hair after Rhett questioned the food choice, to which the redhead gave a shrug. “I can’t say I was let around the upper crust of society,” they responded as they put their chin in their hand. “And for good reason.” They added with a smirk. “I was sixteen when I first got into a fight with some rich bloke ‘round my age.” They remembered with a fondness, tilting their head to the side. “Went running back to their rich daddy who threatened to ruin me. Ruin what? I was sixteen.” They rolled their eyes. “Since then, I understood there was a very us versus them mentality when it came to rich folk.” 

Alistair turned his focus to the women gossiping behind him, whispering loudly to each other about “How could they let a dog in here? Don’t they know that’s unsanitary?” One whispered to the other. “Not to mention the redhead looks positively ridiculous.” This earned raised brows from Alistair, who was about to turn around and give them a piece of their mind when they remembered the mission. 

Turning their attention back to Rhett, hoping that he had heard what they had, Alistair grumbled something unintelligible under their breath, followed by “They’re my target. Someone deserves a face full of eggs.” 

—

“Mmm… there’s a sentiment I can agree with,” Rhett responded. “Only thing a rich man’s good for is trickin’ him outta his cash.” He’d done plenty of that alongside his sister when they were children, before their father had sold them off and instead had them grifting in every town and city they wound up in. “Money makes ya stupid. Dependant.” 

His attention slid to the two women, hearing their remarks as Alistair did. The warden snorted, leaning over to address Brutus, reaching out to pat his head. “Oi, don’t suppose you got a few rounds in the chamber, eh, lad? Those slags could use a little surprise under their table, I reckon.” Laughing to himself, Rhett straightened up and looked at Alistair again. “What you thinkin’, mate? Want me to huck it? I got damn good aim.”

—

Breaking out in a grin, Alistair nodded their head. There was an idea, maybe they should have thought of robbing all these idiots blind instead of throwing food into their hair. “Ngck. Next time we’re robbing them.” They decided with a smirk on their face. “What’s that saying the young folk have been using these days?” They thought for a moment, then raised a finger. “Money makes the world go ‘round, unfortunately.” They added as they leaned back in their seat, crossing one leg over the other. 

Brutus began wagging his tail at the sudden attention from Rhett, tilting his head back and forth as he was spoke to. Alistair took a moment to look through his familiar’s eyes to see Rhett with mischief written all over his face. “While I can’t say my dog shits on command, I will take you up on the offer.” Alisair motioned with their head towards the gossiping women who were still none the wiser. “Go for it.” They spoke with a wicked grin on their face. 

—

Their food was arriving as the go-ahead was given, and Rhett smirked to himself. “Aye aye,” he agreed, nodding in thanks to the waiter. With one hand, he got a serving spoon loaded up with whatever eggy dish this was supposed to be between them, holding it by the end of its handle and aiming the scoop in the women’s direction. His other hand reached for his tea, lifting the cup to his face. If they wanted this to last more than three seconds, he had to look preoccupied, after all. 

“Alright. Now lean just a touch to yer left, my friend,” Rhett instructed Alistair, taking a more precise aim with his spoon. A glance around them told him that no one was watching, and once Alistair was clear of the line of fire, he took a sip of tea and flicked the spoon forward. Eggy mess soared through the air, and before it’d even made impact the warden had set the spoon back down. The food collided with the side of the woman’s head and she shrieked loudly in response. Rhett did his best to look surprised, but there was a bit of laughter that was hidden in his cup of tea before he set it back down, trying to appear just as confused as everyone else. “Ohh, no, what happened?” he falsely sympathized, pouting his best pout and shaking his head. “The nerve of some people, am I right?”

—

Upon receiving the instruction to do so, Alistair casually leaned to their left, feeling the wooshing of the egg soaring through the air. Then Alistair leaned themselves back to the previous position. “Why the nerve!” The women shouted as Alistair picked up their cup and snickered into it. It was nice to meet someone who shared a sense of mischief. The old woman’s eyes narrowed at Rhett as he attempted to sympathize with the woman. “Why, I…” she snarled, hurriedly searching around for a waiter, who was already rushing over. “Ma’am, if you’re going to cause a disturbance like this, I will have to ask you to leave.” He explained in a hushed tone, which only fueled her ire. “I did nothing!” She exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table as she shot up and pointed a finger towards Rhett. “The pair shouldn’t be here in the first place!” 

Alistair pressed a hand to their chest at the woman's declaration, carefully practiced shock plastered to their features. “My dear, the two of us are simply enjoying a good afternoon outing. If we wanted to cause problems, we would’ve gone to a dive bar.” He spoke in an even tone. The manager was getting involved with the women at this point, and before they knew it, the women were being escorted out and not allowed to return. As soon as they were all gone, Alistair turned their attention to Rhett with a grin breaking out on their face. “You, my friend, are amazing.”

—

What a joy it was to see someone so full of herself get her comeuppance. Or at least that's what Rhett had to assume, given her remarks about the odd pair. He watched with neatly hidden delight as she and her companion were escorted off the premises, their shouting dying down as the front door was closed to them forever. “I dunno what they're all in a huff over,” Rhett laughed. “Who'd wanna frequent this place?” It was fun as a first time experience, though… well, probably only because Alistair was like-minded when it came to getting into trouble. They'd probably make a good friend, he thought, if he was still capable of such things. Time would tell. 

“Amazing? Why, yes, it's about damn time someone noticed!” The warden gave a snort, earning him a glare from a different nearby table. He raised a brow, picking up his eggy spoon again and pointing it in their direction. They took the hint, hiding in their cup of tea and refusing to make eye contact again. he'd turn these types right around, given enough time. 

Leaning back into their chair, Alistair shrugged. “It’s their little slice of existence they’ve carefully carved out for themselves, and God forbid that someone up and changes that status quo.” They responded, taking a sip of the tea, then made a face. “This is… watery.” They spoke with distaste dripping from their words. Without any decorum, they swiftly dropped the act. Old ladies could insult them all they wanted, but messing with their tea? That was unforgivable. “Let’s give them hell.” His tone was dark and unyielding as they picked up the teacup and turned it upside-down.

Then, the game was on. They couldn’t see Rhett’s excitement but could feel it radiating from him in droves. “Put that amazing skill of yours to work. Go for between the eyes.” They proclaimed before picking up a piece of fish and throwing it with wild abandon, for once not caring how they appeared. For once, they were having a good time with a complete stranger that maybe, for once, they could see as a friend. 

Shrieks called out as the fish plopped somewhere, and Alistair grinned. This was going to be fun.

[lallyloo]

[x]

[delopsia]

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

[gmmfashion]

Hi! Can you please tell me where Rhett’s jacket from in the episode of ear biscuits titled “Rhett gets in a car crash”? Thanks in advance

It's from the brand called Corridor. It's the Trailhead Plaid Button Up in color Multi. It's an older style and quite popular. So it it sold out across multiple sites.

[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!”

[foreverrandomwritings]

This might be my last one…for now at least! 😂 How about “I.. don’t know how I got here.” (3) and “you’re the only thing that matters.” (2) with Rhett Abbott. Sorry the new Lew Lew content has me feral! 💙❤️

Confessions Left Unconfessed  

Summary: 2 writing prompts for my mini celebration with Rhett Abbott.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x afab/Reader

Warnings:Swearing, alcohol, soft Rhett, little bit of angst if you squint and unspoken feelings. 

Word Count:1670

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the pounding in your head. The second thing was how the sheets didn’t feel like your sheets. The third was that the room didn’t smell like yours. You assumed you were in your brother's room as that was the last place you remember being. However when you opened your eyes you were certain that it was not your brother's room. The worst part was that you had no clue who’s bedroom you were in. Looking around you saw trophies, ribbons, a couple stetsons, a hamper of dirty clothes with a plaid shirt hanging out, a dark wood dresser and posters of bull riding hung on the walls. 

None of those clues helped you figure out who’s room you were in because it could’ve been any guy living in Wabang. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed you looked at the bedside table next to you and noticed a bottle of tylenol and a bottle of water. You were thankful to whoever put those there and would have to thank them once you figured out who they were. Taking two pills from the bottle you took a swig of the water to swallow them. You checked your pockets for your phone but came up empty handed. Then you were making your way to the door. Opening it you realized stupidly that it was a closet and you turned around and headed for the only other door in the room. 

Once you opened the door and made your way downstairs you heard people talking. Following the voices you found the last people you expected to see. The Abbotts. You stood there staring at them blankly while they all stopped their conversation to look at you. “Good to see you up and moving Tillerson! We were starting to think you were a goner.” Royals deep gravelly voice exclaimed. Cecilia and Amy were sat next to him and both were giving you sweet smiles. Perry was on the opposite side of the table with his typical anxious look and Rhett was leaning against the counter staring at you. 

“I… don’t know how I got here.” You said slowly blinking at them. They all shared a glance between themselves before Rhett was pushing off the counter and heading straight to you. Once he was about 2 feet from you he nodded towards the door behind you. You turned around and made your way out the door. Noticing the sun was beginning to set as you walked out. Which was strange to you because you clearly remembered it barely being 10 am when you were in your brother’s room with him. Rhett motioned for you to sit down on the edge of the porch as he did the same. You looked at him wearily but still sat down with him. You hadn’t talked to Rhett in a few years so there was an awkward blanket over you two. There had never been any conflict between the two of you. You were close in age and thought it silly that your families were feuding. The both of you would often sneak off and meet in the woods near the connecting points of your ranches and would spend hours exploring together. That’s when your crush had developed for the young cowboy with dreams of being a rodeo hero just like his Pa was. 

As you both got older you realized that he was desperately in love with Maria Olivaries and you couldn't keep putting yourself through the pain of seeing the attention you wanted so badly be given to someone else. So you had slowly started to pull away from him. What you didn’t know was that the only reason he was so vocal about his feelings for Maria was because he had been in love with you for years. He was just complete shit at expressing his feelings so he decided to act like they didn’t even exist. He also never in a million years thought you would go for someone like him. Especially with the way your families behaved with one another. 

There hadn’t been any words spoken between the two of you in almost 5 years. Neither of you knew what to say to each other and both sat there in silence for what felt like hours just staring out at the barn and the acres of land you could see. It was peaceful until Rhett cleared his throat. You turned your head to face him with an arched eyebrow. 

“What did you mean by you don’t know how you got here?” He asked you.

“The last thing I remember is being in Billy’s room with him opening up a bottle of Scotch. Then I woke up and I was in what I'm assuming is your bed.” you replied to him queitly unsure of what had happened between then and now. The events of this morning playing through your head in pieces. He just nodded his head seemingly trying to think about what to say to you next. Then he was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. 

“Pa and I were out at the barn stacking hay in the attic when we saw you and your horse come up from the pasture. You were slumped over the horn of your saddle. Once we got close enough we could smell the alcohol radiating off of you. We spent a couple minutes trying to wake you up but you weren’t budging. We got you down and brought you inside once we realized you were passed out cold. Perry put your horse away in one of our empty stalls in the barn. Luke called around here about an hour ago asking if we had seen you, told us you and your horse were missing and that you had left your phone behind. But we didn’t know what had happened at home so we told him no.” You sat there staring at him as a blush worked its way up from your chest to your face. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. You couldn’t believe that that had happened. 

“I am so so so sorry. I don’t even remember getting on Baraba Jean.” then the thought occurred to you. The whole reason you had even started drinking this morning. The rodeo, which was definitely tonight which meant that Rhett was defiently missing it as it had certainly already started. You looked at Rhett with horror and shame on your face. “Oh my god, Rhett the rodeo.” you practically screamed at him with wide eyes making him flinch a little. After the initial shock of your outburst wore off he gave you the goofiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. 

“Darlin, you're the only thing that matters.” He told you like he had said it a million times before with a slight shrug of his shoulders like it was no big deal. The only problem being he had never said those words to you. If your face was red from embarrassment earlier it was without a doubt a tomato now. “Why don’t you tell me what had you drinking so early this morning?” he spoke again as the silence between you two after his confession was making anxiety creep into his body. 

“I had a fight with my Pa this morning. I wanted to go to the rodeo with Billy but he refused to let me go. He told me he was sick of me trying to whore myself out to the cowboys down there when I need to have higher standards than some cowboy that has hit his head one too many times.” your fingers found one of your hoodie strings as you spoke to him, eyes looking at the ground. You didn’t want to see the look of pity on his face.

“I’m sorry your Pa talked to you like that.” the words came out softly wanting you to know he was truly sorry. He had known you had always had it rougher than your brothers growing up. Your father had always been very vocal about the fact that he never wanted a daughter. Rhett just wished he hadn’t let you become distant all those years ago. He could’ve done better to ease some of the pain your father had caused you over the years if he had just bucked up and told you how he felt. But he knew that now wouldn’t be the time for that. You were obviously not in a place for a love confession to be spilled on you. So he kept his mouth shut and decided he would tell you some other day. 

“Thank you for helping me Rhett. You didn’t have to help me but you did and I am very grateful for it.” you mumbled to him quietly turning to look at him again. You wished that you had never pulled away from him all those years ago. You missed the way his eyes seemed to light up a little when he looked at you. The low drawl of his voice and the quirk of his lip when he didn’t want to fully smile. You thought about telling him about the feelings you've had for him all these years but decided against it knowing you were definitely not in a place for a love confession tonight. 

So the two of you sat on his front porch until you decided to head home so your brothers would stop worrying about you. You knew Luke and Trevor would call in a whole army if they had to. You also knew that Billy wouldn’t shut up until they did. As you rode off on your horse you looked back at Rhett who had his hands in the pockets of his jeans and was rocking back and forth in his boots. You both shared the same thought at that moment. There was no way you were going 5 years without talking to each other again.

A/N:I really like the way this ended up. I’m just hoping you all like it as well. Lew Lew also has me feral. 

[alan-duarte]

[pm] You're describing a pirate now. You can't be both Al Capone and a pirate. You have to pick an aesthetic, Rhett. Besides didn't we agree on casual Maine inspirations? Or well I suppose I agreed on that.

I don't hate it. It's alright when you tie it up. Maybe I'll get you plaid scrunchies for your birthday.

I didn't recognize the guy. He wore one of those hunting caps too. All I could tell you was that he looked lean, tall and I think about my age. The fucker was far enough to mistake me for a deer so go figure.

It's months old. It's fine. It just hurts when it's cold or humid, I guess.

Or to provoke monoxide intoxication, go figure. I could have made you cake that didn't taste like that, but I think that coming from Emilio, it's worth a thousand cakes from the bakery.

[pm] Aye, but now I got an eyepatch n' a fucked up leg. Cool scars.

Can still ruin yer afterlife, though. Hair'll grow back. You hate it that much, wanna chop it off? I let ya have at the beard, weren't that enough?

Helpful. Yer avoidin' the question.

Yeah, real sweet. Tasted like shit, but... was nice, I guess. He mighta just been tryin' to set the van on fire with all them candles, though.

[sebsxphia]

But what if you catch nineteen year old rhett with his jeans pooled at his ankles with him fisting his cock right as he comes-

￫ c/w: m!masturbation, swearing and voyeurism.

￫ this is part of my ‘rhett and his childhood sweetheart’ here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

cecelia gave you a fleeting wave through her office window as you walked up to the porch of the abbott home. being daytime and their house being in the middle of nowhere, the door was unlocked and you made your way in.

“hi, hon’.” cecelia called out from her office to the side of the front door. “rhett’s upstairs. you and your ma doin’ okay?” she leant against the doorway to her office as you kicked off your boots. you flashed her a polite smile and nodded along in agreement. “yeah, all healthy and happy. i’ll see you later for dinner. i’ll get rhett to give you a hand.”

you made your way upstairs and onto the landing. you were stood outside rhett’s bedroom door with your knuckle raised and ready to knock when you heard it.

rhett’s low, southern drawl cursing and repeating your name, followed by deep grunts. your hand reached for the doorknob and turned it gently and quietly. you were determined not to disturb rhett because you knew immediately what he was doing and you wanted to catch your childhood sweetheart in the act.

the door creaked open an inch and you gritted your teeth at the sound, but when you peered your head round the door, you spotted the cord of his earphones attached to his computer. you took in the rest of the sight in front of you. rhett sat on his chair in front of his computer, thighs spread wide, his jeans pooled at his ankles and his large hand fisting his painfully throbbing cock. you took a glance at his computer screen and your heart thrummed in your chest. he was watching videos of you.

videos he’d taken of you in pastures with your sundress rising up your thighs. videos of you laying in bed on sunny sunday mornings and playing with your breasts. videos of you spreading your thighs in his truck and flashing rhett your wet cunt.

you were drawn back to rhett as he grunted deeper and let out a guttural groan from within his chest. “fuck, baby. that’s it, shit.” the strain in rhett’s voice told you instantly that he was close and you made light footsteps to come closer to him. you could see his eyes now scrunched tightly shut in bliss with his jaw slack. “i’m gon’ come, f-fuck!”

rhett’s whole body squirmed in his seat as he came. thick and white ropes of his cum spraying from his red tip and covering his plaid shirt. his eyes fluttered open and the sight of you standing near him with an all knowing smirk on your face made rhett jump back in his seat.

“jesus!”

“sorry, cowboy. did i disturb something?”

“fuckin’ yeah, you did!” rhett exclaimed with a laugh in his throat. you snorted in response and hiked yourself onto his lap, with his softening cock resting against your thighs.

“sorry, baby. you just looked so fuckin’ hot. i had to watch.” rhett smirked and pressed a searing kiss to your lips as you lightly ground your legs against his. rhett moaned softly into the kiss and pulled away with his cobalt blue eyes gleaming back at you with that look.

“give me ten and i’m gon’ have you again. for real this time.”