#rhett drabble

[bradshawsbaby]

If you're still taking those late-night prompts, how about "I'm cold. Cuddle with me" + Rhett because I'm having feelings.

Always having feelings about that cowboy!

One of the worst parts about traveling on the rodeo circuit was the accommodations. You never knew what town you were going to end up passing through, or what crummy motel you’d have to spend the night in. Some were better than others, but tonight, you and Rhett had ended up in a particularly crappy one.

You typically tried to look on the bright side of things—at least you and Rhett were together, and you were getting to watch the love of your life live out his dreams. But the broken radiator and the freezing water in the bathroom were enough to sour your mood, especially after a long and exhausting day at the rodeo grounds.

If you were a bit peeved about the situation, you knew Rhett was downright grumpy. He’d had a good ride today, but he’d tweaked a nerve in his shoulder and you knew all he wanted was a hot shower to relax and unwind.

“Stupid shithole,” he’d muttered in frustration when you returned to the motel and were met with ice water instead.

He was taking a quick shower now, trying to wash away the dirt and grime from the day, while you tried to make the room a little bit more comfortable. With no heat, you’d donned a pair of thick socks, sweatpants, a long-sleeve shirt, and one of Rhett’s hoodies to try to keep warm, managing to find an extra blanket in the closet and throwing it onto the bed. You fluffed the pillows as best you could, trying to make it as cozy as possible for when Rhett came out of the bathroom.

Just as you were settling down under the covers, the bathroom door opened and Rhett stepped out with a white towel slung low around his waist. Your mouth watered at the sight. But his handsome face was twisted into a scowl as he stomped over to his travel bag.

“Is a little hot water after a long damn day too much to ask for?” he grumbled, digging through his things for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Normally he liked to sleep with minimal clothing, or none at all, but you could see he was still visibly shaking from his frigid shower.

You bit your lower lip, leaning back against the headboard. “I know, but at least we’ll be checked out of here tomorrow,” you offered, trying to find a silver lining.

“Not fast enough,” Rhett grunted, dropping his towel and quickly getting dressed.

You knew he was just exhausted and in pain, and that was what was making him so cranky. So you held out a hand to him, your voice calm as you said, “I’m cold. Cuddle with me.”

If you had tried to offer to take care of him when he was in a mood like this, he would have just gotten more snappish, but when you turned the tables and made it seem like you needed him, he was quick to soften and come crawling into bed beside you.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmured, wrapping you in his arms and holding you against his chest. “I wish I could have taken you someplace better than this,” he said with a frown, glancing around your more than modest lodgings.

“Shh, I don’t care about that,” you assured him, draping yourself across his chest. “Just want to be with you.”

He chuckled quietly under his breath, running his fingers through your hair as your eyes grew heavier and heavier.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” he whispered against the top of your head, dropping a kiss on it. “It means the world to me, havin’ you in my corner.”

You smiled, cuddling closer to him. “I love you, Rhett.”

“I love you, too, baby. Now let’s get some sleep.”

late night prompts

[midniqhtt]

𐚁 rhett abbott

masterlist • lewis pullman • 06/19/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

⭑.ᐟ goodbye kisses I @writingdumpster

the morning after a bad fight with rhett you don’t give him his goodbye kiss.

⭑.ᐟ drabble I @jasvtsc

⭑.ᐟ moonlight desires I @em1i2a3

You’ve wanted Rhett Abbot since the day you laid your eyes on him. So when the opportunity for a friends with benefits arrangement presents itself you immediately take the plunge, even though there is a risk of hurt feelings on both ends.

⭑.ᐟ odds are stacked I @sunlightmurdock

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

⭑.ᐟ is it casual now? I @lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ lunch break I @/lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ dog days I @/lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ yours, officially pt2 I @verricherri

⭑.ᐟ request I @withahappyrefrain

⭑.ᐟ possibility I @sebsxphia

maybe you and rhett could make this work.

⭑.ᐟ house in nebraska I @mustyrosewater

when she went missing, disappeared without a trace, it was almost like a deep seated black hole found it's way into rhetts chest, as he recalls all his time spent with her admist trying to find answers, the deep seated energy of the cursed lands they live on come apart to make way for lovers to find each other again.

⭑.ᐟ to the nines I @bradshawsbaby

⭑.ᐟ what do you mean you paid for it? I @girlcowboy

[thecowboyfiles]

￫ Description: Rhett takes you to a busy store and you start to slip.

￫ c/w: This contains age regression

￫ a/n: I know sex is what sells on this website but I really miss caregiver!rhett. no use of y/n, no pronouns, again contains non-sexual age regression

Being so far out of town and on a ranch, you don't run into too many people. That's how you both like it, a slow quiet life just you and the Abbott family.

Going into town was always a bit of an experience. It wasn't a big city by any means, but it was always busier than you expect. The hustle and bustle of the feed store almost males you dizzy. Does every single farmer in Wabang need to feed their animal on the exact same day?

You follows behind Rhett, probably looking like a lost puppy. You wish you were holding his hand, but he was on a mission, walking through the Aisles with so much purpose that you didn't even try.

When Rhett finally stops, inspecting a bag of bull feed, presumably making sure it's the right one, the pull of littlespace is much stronger than it should be. You bring your thumb up to your mouth but still have the sense of where you are and stop yourself from shoving it straight into your mouth like you want too. Instead, you try to satisfy the need by chewing on the nail.

Despite Rhett's preoccupied mind - he notices this little tic. " You feelin' small, bug?" he asks lowly in your ear.

You nod, too fuzzy to use your words and still chewing on your thumb nail.

"Okay, okay. Daddy's just gotta get a few more things and then I'll take you home. Can you be Daddy's big Bug Until we get back to the truck?"

It was almost as if Rhett wanted you to slip, refering to himself in the third person. You could feel tears stinging ar your tired eyes and that flood of emotions that always seemed to come with slipping into littlespace. "I wanna go daddy. I wanna go home." That slight whine and quiver in your voice is what makes Rhett put the bag back and squeeze your hand.

“Alright Darlin’ we’re going.” He assures, holding you close. To hell with the animal feed, it can wait, or Royal can go get it his damn self.

——

tagging @sebsxphia because I know how you feel about Rhett and Bug. 🥰

[sebsxphia]

rhett abbott x reader. | drabble.

￫ warnings: mentions of pregnancy and fluff.

￫ authors notes: i’ve had a couple of tiny drabbles in my wips for ages. enjoy! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

“Here you go, cowboy.”

You handed Rhett his neck warmer with a warm smile to match.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

He reciprocated with a familiar smile. He slipped it over his head and tucked it against his neck, into the collar of his Carhartt jacket. His hair became slightly ruffled from the neck warmer, but he lifted his cap off the hook by the door and slipped it on his head. He reached behind and smoothed out any stray hairs at the back of his neck with his hand.

You unlocked the front door and slipped out into the cold Wyoming morning with Rhett behind you. The sun was only just beginning to crack over the horizon. Trailing behind you both were your two dogs, hot on each of your heels and their collars jingling.

“Alright, I’ll get started wi’ the feed. Y’ still alright with the fences?” Rhett cocked his head at you, as he checked with you for the third time this morning.

You grinned at him and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Your other hand rested over your belly, your bump now beginning to appear. “Absolutely, baby. I’ll come help y’ with muckin’ around midday?”

He placed a kiss on your lips and brushed his already cold nose against yours. “Of course, darlin’. Thank you for helpin’. Text me if y’ need me, alright?”

You nodded in agreement with a sweet smile and pecked him once more before making your way to the fences. You turned around as you heard Rhett whistle sharply for your two dogs and yell, “‘ere you two lil’ guys.”

He caught your eyes once more as you turned on your heels to face him. His lips quirked into a lovesick grin and you blew him a playful kiss back.

Rhett was in loving, domestic bliss.

[zottts]

todd fucking you in his fraternity hoodie… mmm yess ma’am!! like you have a shower and all you can find is his hoodie

another little drabble where i just speak about this so i hope you like it

okay so lowkey i like to think he probably spilled something on you like a drink to make you take that shower (it was probably on purpose) because he isn't sorry AT ALL and you can tell too so he offers to let you take a shower, he has a shower in his room

you do and you find his clothes, aka his hoodie and a pare of sweats or whatever. and he finds you in his clothes really hot like REALLY hot and he just wants to get those off, he wanted to get your clothes off in the first place anyways....

he is so quick to get you in his bed and those sweats OFF. but he wants to keep that hoodie on, seeing you in something thats his own just makes him super horny

he also just says you look really hot while fucking you relentlessly, like OVER AND OVER "you're so fucking hot like this" right into your ear and saying shit like "let everyone hear you"

this is super duper short buttttt i promise ill do more soon

i love this freaky man that gets like 10 minutes max of screen time!! LET ME AT HIM

[redhoodi]

Takes one to know one | Rhett Abbott/Reader

Rhett couldn’t play your games anymore, he needs you to know he lost.

word count: 1.5K warnings: none

note Find this fic on AO3 #hi haven’t written anything or been kissed in a long time. Sighs. Anyways happy yearner Rhett for those who celebrate. Mentions of God and subtly comparing love to religion. English isn’t my first language btw, hope you like it ^_^ !

While the moonlight couldn’t compete with the white lights turning the rodeo into a spectacle, only his reddening face looking at the ground once his eyes find you in the crowd. He fixes his hat before raising for your challenge, he licks his lips thinking it would distract you from noticing a smile on his face.

It was your favorite game, lowering your head, rising your eyebrows along with the corners of your lips and nodding once just to let him know you see him. That he’s doing a good job at not letting you see how his hand grips on his waist, how his breathing weights on his chest when you’re locked on his eyes.

You wore a tight long-sleeved shirt which color could be stained with wine and it wouldn’t show a difference. Dark red, maroon, Rhett knew about colors. It’s the type of detail it would make you compare it to a certain wine brand or his bruised hands after riding. Type of detail that doesn’t escape your ability to continue chatting. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Semi-finals had caught him on a cold night. Bull was rougher. His mind could’ve lingered a little longer on the top if it weren’t for the red lipstick painted on your face. The lights started to dim, and people began to fade.

Rhett’s questioned where would you go after this on the tip of his tongue but he was betrayed by his own body the moment he had you only meters away from him. People walking around your bodies like a river softening stones. His shoulders falling once your steps got you closer to him. He froze, keeping in mind the way your father whispered in your ear before the rodeo. He caught your mother’s disapproving eyes staring up and down and calculating just how much of a man he was that couldn’t measure to be even remotely deserving of capturing your eyes. He waited on you to make a move. Not as tough as people made him out to be.

Some say you reap what you sow. And your little eye game riled up his mind beyond forming any coherent word as you got closer. Maybe it was the moon dancing over the side you brushed your hair behind your ear. Maybe his breathing finally stopped and he had you confused with an angel all those years ago.

His clothes stuck to his body from the sweat, bringing out his broad shoulders and tightening around his chest. You swallowed, keeping posture before trying to meet his eyes but he was nowhere to be found. His gaze wandered the floor below and his fingers trailed his brown leather jacket. Boots tapping the dry sand he stood above, there wasn’t any escape and doe eyes stared at you caught on the brightness of your presence.

Then your greetings came as a whisper. Pride on his mouth was spit to the ground before he did something he’d be scared not to regret.

“Not bad,” you insisted as a wry smile adorned his face. As his features could be detailed closer and the skin below your nose tarnished hot from his breath. It was only a matter of time before he got so close he could see behind your façade. Shivers went down your spine steading you to the ground. Focusing on his eyes and the dim light reflecting distracted you from noticing them tracing your mouth. Pink painted his nose and cheeks as the wind blushed his face.

“Expected more” he recited with a low voice, while the grip on his jacket tightened. The results were enough for next round and the thought circles his mind as birds preying, he had been just enough, not good nor great. He swallows the thought before taking a pause to let the mix of hay, sweat and vanilla fill his lungs. The last scent makes him travel to the first and only time he had enough audacity to dare his nose trail the skin below your jaw. A grin lights his face remembering, like yours when it happened.

The kind of games that you played with him worked too well. The small balancing of your torso in place, waltzing to yourself before him, impatient. Something was between you two for years since you’ve started as a nurse in town. You faking you didn’t know what you were doing when you licked your lips staring him with a frown, confusing and intoxicating. It started to poison him the moment he saw you standing on the bleachers tonight. Losing temped him.

There hadn’t been a day now where the thought of tasting you wasn’t the only thought in mind. His family played dumb. Misplacing a plate on the fridge when he caught a bird outside the window that you told him about its legs automatically clamping on branches when they sleep so they don’t fall, his smile only raised concerns to his mother that he was slowly losing it. When you wore a dress tight on your torso and loose on your hips, cut a little above your knees, spotting him staring and smiled, making him miss the door on the store to end up on a wall, Perry only laughed. Now, jeans hugging your legs, arms behind your back, acting all innocent for him, his stupid causing a grin on you.

“Stop that” only making you frown from his stern shaking voice. “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean,” you tilted your head. Amusing yourself with the idea of riling him up without even a touch. The saintly woman you ought to be couldn’t let herself enjoy knowing the effect you had on him. He never stood a change under your voice, your gaze. Delighted by the desperate sight of a man finding little interest in praying to God, pleading to you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he held his fingers close to your waist, never quite reaching. “Once we do this, I don’t want nothing else”

He was tortured by your ever addicting laugh. Rhett should grab you but his hands stood still, he never waited on permission but any word from you could bring him to ruin. Anger filled his cheeks red trying to find the joke of of having him wrapped around your fingers.

“I want you,” consumed by the loss of his mind, surrendering himself to you. His hands began to shake in place, once you lowered your head to see them. Frowning further.

“What about Maria?” it came as a whisper again, tainted with mistrust. The first time he didn’t hear a gambler tone, or followed up by a topic changing the leading of the conversation as he caught you doing when he tried to flirt with you out front. He did once, thought he could get you easily. Then he got to know you and learned you loved proving people wrong about their expectations of you. It only made you stronger than smoking. He was the one frowning now, searching for the confident foe he made you out to be.

“What about her?”

“You’ve been in love with her since forever,” you reached for his fingers with yours, not reaching his palm. “When she looks at you, you’ll be done with me”

“Was a high-school crush,” he holds your fingers to lead them to his chest, not trying to hide the trembling of his hands. His heart raced on your palm and his eyes traveled from your golden rings adorning your hands to your eyes focusing on him. “I can’t anymore, I know I ain’t much. God’s honest truth that is. But I want all of you”

Rough voice against your tender lips. The tip of your noses lightly finding each other. Your eyebrows relaxed once under his eyes and the pressing of your lips goes unnoticed by the shadow casted from his hat. He takes it off with his free hand, when the right still steadies above your own. Daring to brush his thumb to bring you back. You begin to move your head softly. His head rested on the right side of his neck now, almost bowing.

“I should kiss that grin out of your face,” you manage to say and what kind of man was he to stop you.

“Should’ve done it sooner” before resting his hat on your head and reaching for your ear between his index and middle finger and allowing his thumb to play around your smiling cheek. He sighs when he realizes your free hand reaching for the back of his neck and bringing him closer.

“I hate you” was the last thing he heard before your lips greet his. Slowly finding your way against his mouth. He could taste the lipstick before you opened your mouth to taste his tongue.

The sweetest con often comes in the idea of an indefinite place of faith by someone else’s hands. His, bruised in purple and green with scratches he often downplayed their severity to calm you down, rough and slightly dirty fingers traced a path on the edge of your cheeks. The Rhett Abbott from everyone’s eyes could be careless, couldn’t be more different than the one whose hands slightly tremble when holding your face. You pretend not to notice how he crumbles from touching you, how his eyes tempest blue underneath your gaze.

-

© redhoodi 2025 my writing is prohibited from any replication consisting of reposting, copying, translating or profiting, on any platform regardless if credit is given.

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Nine

Tilleul

Chapter Summary: Something is very wrong in Wabang, Wyoming. And you have everything to do with it.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI- A lot of angst and yearning, some suggestive behavior, mentioned dead body

Word Count: 8,800ish

A/N: Hey queens... hopefully this chapter makes sense, it has been brewing so long in my head my brain sort of turned into mush lol. Now we are really gettin into it, juicy juicy juicy.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

The tires crunched over gravel as you pulled up to the bonfire, headlights cutting briefly through the dark before you killed the engine. The fire was bigger than expected and so was the crowd. Laughter spilled out into the night, a few flickering faces turning to glance as your truck rolled to a stop at the edge of the field, parking among a row of other vehicles. 

You sat for a moment with your hands on the warm steering wheel, the engine ticking quietly as it cooled. The thick denim jacket you wore scratched against your bare arms, stiff and coarse at the seams and heavy on your shoulders. You’d nearly left it at home because you hated the way it felt. But the cold bit through you too quickly in just a shirt to go without it now that the weather was getting colder. 

Now it clung to you like a bad decision you couldn’t take back, as if coming here didn't already seem like a bad decision.

Taking a breath through your nose, you reluctantly opened the driver door. The sharp scent of burning wood rushed in and filled the cab with its nauseating scent and the early autumn chill followed close behind. You crossed your arms, half to ward off the cold and half to hold yourself together, tired eyes scanning the mostly unknown crowd. 

There were more people than you’d expected… far more. Beth had promised it would only be a few coworkers and some friends for a going away party for Mateo. Clearly, Mateo had a very broad definition of “close.”

Some clustered near the fire, others spilled into the shadows. Red cups in hand, talking and laughing in the truck beds of those who needed a front row seat, seemingly not worried what would happen if the flames jumped too close to their vehicle. It takes a lot of internal convincing to slide yourself out of the driver’s seat and close the heavy door. 

You hadn’t even shut the door yet. Once you did, that was it. No going back. No retreat.

The door closed with a heavy finality, and the sound echoed in your chest. But, you didn’t move just yet. The nervous flutter in your chest hadn’t settled. Worn boots crunched on the ground as you shifted your weight. 

All at once, the fire seemed very far away from where you were parked.

But, you spotted Beth. The knot in your chest loosened just a little. She stood near the fire, backlit by the warm glow laughing, relaxed, holding a drink and gesturing wildly mid-story as her long, dark hair whipped over her sweatshirt-clad shoulders. Her presence and sharp laughter cut through the noise, steady and familiar, like a buoy in deep water.

With one hand still gripping the edge of your rough denim jacket and the other shoved into your front pant pocket, you started walking toward the controlled flames, ground giving way to packed dirt beneath your boots. Your breath fogged in the air and the cold still clung to you, but your steps felt a little less hesitant now.

As you approached closer, Beth’s face lit up in instant recognition, excusing herself away from the small circle of people that gathered near her so she could meet you halfway. 

The scent of thick smoke and her usual fruity perfume enveloped you as she neared and eventually pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek, “There you are! And here I thought you stood me up.” Beth pouted her raspberry glossed lips and you laughed, tension melting from your shoulders. 

“Oops, sorry-” She wrinkled her nose and wiped off her gloss mark from your cheek with the cuff of her sweatshirt. Her eyes were glittery and glazed, like she was already a few drinks in. 

The two of you started walking slowly towards the fire, Beth’s elbow linked with yours as if she was afraid you’d run away. 

“So… Mateo has quite a guest list.” You mumble in her ear, dark locks tickling your nose. She let out an exasperated sigh, stalling a bit before you meshed with the rest of the group.

“Hmmm… yes. Are you mad that I lied to you about the small party thing? Because it really is kind of like a friend who brought a friend who brought a friend thing.” She explained sheepishly, almost animated due to the alcohol she had consumed. 

You barely avoided being backed into by a guy who wasn’t watching where he was going, pivoting just in time as Beth led you toward a navy-blue cooler stationed beside someone’s truck. 

A couple occupied the open tailgate nearby, the woman wrapped in a worn blanket while her boyfriend (presumably) clung to her like they were alone. Quickly, you avert your eyes and crouch near the cooler, letting your fingertips skim the cold water and ice bobbing at the top.

Beth nudged your thigh with the toe of her boot, pulling your attention back to the conversation.

“Oh, no- I’m not mad.” You said, raising your voice over the low hum of chatter. “How could you have known there’d be this many people?” 

Beth exhaled audibly, like she’d actually been holding her breath. Relief softened her face, “Exactly!” She exclaims after her sigh, completely oblivious to the couple on the tailgate as she leans against it, sipping whatever was left in her red solo cup. Her loose attitude makes you snort out a short laugh, your attention drawn back to the cooler. 

The selection was bleak. That’s what you got for showing up late. Shiny cans bobbed in cloudy water, firelight flickering across their dented surfaces. 

Cherry seltzer or pineapple seltzer? Neither sounded spectacular but it had to be better than what was left in the soupy ice. It was like whoever put this cooler together just tossed in whatever they had in their pantry that they were just itching to get rid of. 

Lost in concentration, you never heard the boots shuffling behind you nor the man clearing his throat trying to get your attention. It took an arm and a hand brushing past you and plunging into the cooler to snap you out of your internal debate. His sudden movement mixed up the cans you were looking at, and to your dismay he happened to pull out the cherry seltzer.

A huff pulls from your nose and you whip your head around and up to whoever just stole your drink. Your mouth is open but the words die on your tongue.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Rhett asks, seemingly equally as confused as you are. His hand and can- your can- drips shiny little beads of water that gleam in the fire light. Looking down you notice that a white wrap is covering the majority of his hand, the bandage crawling its way up his forearm.  

Standing up to your full height, you cross your arms defensively, “I could ask you the same thing. How do you know Mateo?” You question absentmindedly as you suddenly realize Beth was no longer at your side, but over back with the people you saw her with earlier. 

The crack and hiss of a can brings you back to the man in front of you, opening the silver tab of the drink with rough, calloused fingers. You bite the inside of your cheek and glare at him as he raises the white can to his lips and takes a long, slow drink. 

Like he was teasing you. 

While you await his response, you become hyper-aware of the couple next to you. 

Were they… surely they couldn't be- out in the open? 

And with a quick glance in their direction your (unfortunate) suspicion was confirmed to be true and they were getting much friendlier than appropriate in such a public setting. 

You turned and walked away, pulse quickening- not out of innocence, but a deep, rising discomfort. No part of you wanted to stick around for that. 

Rhett called your name, but you kept walking, needing space to collect yourself. A large hand grabs your wrist and you stop, turning around to see Rhett. A soft, easy smile made its way to his rosy lips, the color complimenting the flush on his cheeks, the same flush you knew traveled down his neck and chest.

“Hey, you don't have to go if it makes you uncomfortable that I'm here. I'll stay away.” 

That wasn’t sober Rhett talking. Sober Rhett didn’t offer comfort. Sober Rhett didn’t say anything unless cornered. And his thumb- his stupid, calloused thumb- was stroking the inside of your wrist beneath your cuff, brushing your bracelet like it still meant something. 

“No I- didn’t you see those people next to us?” His thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin was driving you mad, and the worst part is you knew he was doing it unconsciously. Like it was second nature to be touching you and giving you butterflies.  

“What people?” Rhett furrowed his brows and looked slowly over his shoulder, trying to figure out whatever you were talking about. 

You couldn't take it anymore. You pulled back from his grasp surprisingly easily and watched as his hand fell slack to his side. You exhaled through your nose, steadying your voice. “Let’s not do this right now. Just tell me- how do you know Mateo?” This time it wasn’t a plea. It was a request for clarity. 

Control.

“Oh, I don't.” Ah. So he was the ‘friend of a friend’, “Why are you here?”

“I’m Mateo’s coworker. Well, ex-coworker now. This is-” Rhett leans closer, much too close for your liking, and turns his ear towards you. As if to say, ‘I can't hear you’, “This going away party.” You explain louder and Rhett nods as if he fully understands you. But the way his forehead creases tells you otherwise. Normally, you’d feel the pull to fill in the blanks. To explain. To make it easier.

But not tonight. You were too tired to keep covering for other people’s confusion.

“D’you want a drink?” You don't think he knows he's yelling, deep voice penetrating your eardrums and vibrating down your spine. You don't think he knows he's leaning closer either. 

Instinctively, your hand shoots out and you press it firmly to the center of his chest, soft green flannel meeting your hand, stopping him before he collides with you. 

“I had a drink.” You pointedly eye the cherry seltzer clutched in his hand. Rhett looked down and laughed under his breath, as if he forgot it was there.

“Here.” He shoves the can close, pressing it to your own chest. Not aggressively, just thoughtlessly like he was mirroring you. Rhett’s knuckles brushed against you in the process, light but undeniable. You hated the way it made your stomach twist, low and molten.

“No, you picked it. Keep it.” Your voice stayed even. 

His proximity pressed uncomfortably close. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Oh come on now. Take it.” His tone is playful but firm, making the hair on the back of your neck prickle. He nudged the can higher- too high now, too close. You dropped your hand from his chest, accepting the drink just to make it stop.

“Thanks.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Rhet looks at you expectantly, blue eyes flicking between your face and the drink. 

You grimace and tilt your head as if to say, ‘really?’ and Rhett just nods almost eagerly. Giving up, you take a sip and shoot him a tight-lipped smile, “There you go. Happy now?” 

Rhett responds with a low hum, a pleased look gracing his handsome features. You felt stuck, pinned under his drunk gaze like a caged animal. You shifted your weight, resisting the urge to fill the silence. Let him sit in it, if he wanted to be near you so badly.

Your eyes drifted back toward Beth, her laughter rising above. She felt a mile away, safe and familiar. 

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I should head back to my friend.” You said finally, soft but resolute. And before Rhett could reply, before that lazy smile could twist into something more, you turned and left, fast enough to feel the escape in it.

-

Beth’s group was much too close to the fire for your liking. Already you shed your jacket and it was resting on the tailgate of someone’s truck. Even with your jacket off the heat from the flames kissed your bare skin and licked at your face, which felt like you had a one hundred and four fever. 

As if that wasn't enough, you were already one cherry seltzer and two beers deep, the sharp edges of your earlier anxiety had dulled, replaced with a slow, ambient hum in your bloodstream. You weren’t drunk, but you weren’t clear either. Just warm, somewhat floaty. 

Uncertain.

And yet, you kept finding his eyes.

He stayed his distance, grouped up a ways away from you. He looked away again, scratched the back of his neck, and said something to the guy next to him without looking back.

And then… there. Again. A flick of the eyes, half a smile, just barely.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly aware of how overwhelmed you were, how warm your face had gotten. You looked down for a moment, trying to school your expression. Then back up.

He was still looking.

Not in an obvious way. Just enough to say I see you. I still see you.

Your pulse stuttered. You hated how easily he could still do that to you.

Hot and cold. That was Rhett. One night inviting you out, the next keeping you at arm’s length like you were too much to deal with. You never knew where you stood with him, and you hated that too. 

“I’m going on a walk.” You whisper to Beth and she nods absentmindedly, giving your hand a quick squeeze before turning her attention back to the woman she was talking with. 

Yes. A quick hike through the cold autumn air will clear your head. It always does. And maybe it'll sober you up enough to start feeling like you can drive home. 

Jacket crumpled up in your fist, you start to head away from the group and past the fire, walking the opposite way of where your car was parked. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still enough people where you had to squeeze between groups, muttering apologies the whole way.

As you passed his group, you kept your eyes down, begging to seem invisible to the others as you walked. You slipped away from the light, the noise, the heat, stepping into the cool hush beyond the sparse tree line. 

The ground was dry, soft under your boots, and the dark was full of quiet sounds. Pine branches shifting, their sharp needles gearing up for the cold, distant voices, the rhythmic thump of bass fading behind you. 

The cold had deepened, sharpening the air. The stars were brighter now, pushing through the haze of smoke and music. You shivered, and looking down you could see little raised bumps developing atop your forearms. And although you weren't freezing, you knew it was better to put it on now than get sick from the cold. 

"Hey-"

The voice behind you made you stall, the denim only pulled over one arm. 

You turned. It was Rhett. He stood a few feet back, hands in his pockets, eyes shadowed but familiar with a thick Carhart jacket zipped up halfway. He looked a little unsure of himself, like he knew he was trespassing on something private but couldn’t quite help it. 

You lowered your eyes and continued slipping the rest of your jacket on.

“I didn’t think you should walk out here alone.” He explained. Rhett’s tone was neutral, almost casual. But his eyes searched for yours. 

You raised an eyebrow, “I can handle the woods.”

“I know,” He said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… still.” 

The flush was almost gone from his cheeks from what you could tell in the moonlight. A silence stretched between the two of you. Not unfriendly. But delicate. 

You could have sent Rhett back. Part of you wanted to. But another part, the bigger part, was oddly glad he’d followed.

You sighed, then turned and kept walking. He fell into step behind you, your feet crunching lightly over twigs and leaves. Your fingers brushed the tree trunks as you passed them, sometimes reaching out to gently stroke the prickly pine needles that got within arm’s reach. 

“Didn't think I’d see you Sunday.” He said after a few moments.

“Didn't think I’d come.” You admit softly, placing a firm palm flat against the trunk of a tree to push yourself upwards on the jutting rock in your path. 

Once up, you wait for Rhett, watching as he does the same. Waiting for him to find the proper footing helps you take a deep breath, crisp air burning the inside of your nose, and it smells like sagebrush. 

Spicy, peppery, and earthy. It reminds you of a simpler time. 

“Do you think you're ready for next weekend? I hear the competition will be tough.” You were already walking back up the trail, further and further from the fire. It was barely a glow from when you started. 

“Can ya give me a break? It’s only Tuesday.” He said, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was smiling. Soft, familiar, teasing like it used to be. 

So he still was a little tipsy. Not that you could judge, it was a miracle you had not tripped over your own feet already and biffed it in the dust. 

“Ah, you're right. Sorry Rhett.” You gave a weak laugh, shaking your head. 

The two of you walked in silence for a while. The small, rational part of your brain begged you to stop and turn back. Why were you still walking? 

Because if you turn back, you'll see him. 

The irrational, yet louder, part of your brain whined. 

If Rhett was concerned by how far out you were getting, he never made it known as you walked along the moonlit trail. Your brain was lulled into a rhythm of listening to his steps married with yours.

Stepstep step… step. Stepstep step… step. Stepstep step… step.

“So… you and Maria?” 

There it was. 

Of all the things drunk you could’ve done- trip over a root, crack your skull open on a rock- you went with that. 

Maria. 

And you would’ve preferred a concussion.

You winced but kept going as Rhett stalled and messed up the soothing rhythm of your steps together. The air shifted with his silence. Now it was all wrong. 

Heavy.

Rhett stayed silent but caught up with you, dragging his feet in the dirt like a kid called in from recess. You almost hoped he wouldn’t respond at all. 

Maybe he’d just fall away, disappear into the trees, and let you walk this off alone.

“Why d’you care?” 

Not the response you expected. You stopped dead in your tracks, nearly causing him to collide with you. He skidded to a halt, too close.

It was like the moonlight had a dimmer switch, because now you had a hard time seeing his expression. But he looked hurt. His trucker hat shaded his face from what little moonlight was left and he looked miserable. Pitiful even. Sad blue puppy dog eyes that searched your face for an answer you couldn't give. 

You stared up at him, mouth parting, but nothing came out. Every reply you ran through sounded dishonest, or worse, desperate. 

“God, m’sorry.” You twisted your hands in front of you, “I don’t know why I-” 

“No, tell me. Why d’you care?” Rhett interrupted, pressing the question further. A deep, dark pit formed in your stomach as you watched him lean against the tree closest to him, crossing his arms as his expression went cold, void of any emotion.

“Jesus, Rhett.” You muttered, voice low and unsteady, “You know I can’t answer that.”

“Then why the hell should I answer you?” His voice rose and you winced at the volume, making yourself smaller as if you would cease to exist if you willed yourself hard enough.

“You don't have to. I said I was sor-” You all but whined, begging him to understand.

But Rhett only laughed, bitter and hollow, and the sound rattled through the trees like something feral, “Oh but I have to. For your sake I have to. Y’know, for some college educated girl you're not very smart.” His words stung like a sharp slap against your cheek, the bite of them ripping through your clothes and leaving you bare, completely naked in front of him. 

You straightened slowly, trying to hold on to something solid… anger, maybe. “That was low.” You said flatly, “Really awful.”

Rhett didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down. The wind picked up between you, snapping at your hair like a warning.

“It’s true. And you know it’s true.” His words took on a mocking tone, “For your whole life you've been doing what other people tell you to do. How to act, how to feel-”

“And you’re the authority on independence?” You snapped, stepping into his space. Your finger jabbed his chest, “You’re so scared of what your folks think, you won’t leave that damn ranch.”

The wind howled through the trees like it was in on the fight. The sky had gone black. No moon, no stars. Just dark clouds and electricity thick in the air.

Rhett grabbed your hand and shoved it away, then took hold of your jacket with both fists and yanked you forward. Your body collided with his, sudden and breathless.

“You need me to tell you one of two things: that I'm with Maria. That I like her and I like her so much that I think we should slap a label on it and wrap our relationship up in a neat little bow.” Rhett leaned closer, his forehead dangerously close to brushing against yours, “Or that we tried. Tried making it work but it just didn't turn out the way we’d hoped and we’re done.”

It was clear he couldn't feel or hear the wind, or saw how the moon was covered with storm clouds. But you could feel his heartbeat against your own, erratic and frenzied. Faintly, you could hear the rumbling of thunder over your panting lungs.

“Rhett, listen to me.” You whispered, panic blooming in your chest. Another roll of thunder groaned above, closer this time, “You hear that?” The scent of pine and fire clung to his clothes, and the storm was so close now, close enough to taste.

But he wasn’t listening. Not really. His voice steamrolled through yours.

“Either way you need me to put you out of your misery because you can't do it yourself. Because you can’t make up your damn mind. You can’t even form your own thoughts about you ‘n me without help.”

You nodded, not even sure why. You just wanted him to see you. But he didn’t. Not yet. 

Rhett doesn't even notice, he doesn't even notice the first little drops of rain plinking on the brim of his hat and the little taps the water leaves on the rocks and dirt. 

“I’m serious.” You tried again, voice straining, “It’s about to storm-” You tried to reason, grabbing fistfulls of his jacket near his chest to try and shake him out of the trance he was in. 

Yet the movements and pleadings are half-hearted as you start to process his words. But before you had time to form a coherent judgement of what he was saying, he was already interrupting your thoughts.

He barreled on, “So you want the truth? Here it is: I don’t know what’s going on with me ‘n Maria. It was easy when you weren’t here.”

His voice cracked.

“But now you are. And I don’t know if I can trust you not to…” He swallowed hard, “not to leave me again.”

There it was.

The last of his armor peeled away, piece by piece, until all that remained was the man you once knew. Heart in hand, afraid to give it away again.

You were panting warm breath into each other's mouths, seemingly both processing every sentence that was uttered between the two of you. 

It hit you, sinking deeper and deeper until you realized what you did. Six years ago you left him. You left Wabang, your family, his family, everything. It was easy for you to leave because you took nothing with the exception of your luggage. 

Six years ago you left a twenty year old Rhett to pick up the pieces, to do damage control of what you destroyed in your wake. 

Rhett endured every one of Perry’s outbursts, the outbursts you didn't hear of because you kept your distance. Rhett was the outlet of his family’s frustrations because of you. And all he could do was silently suffer, because no one knew he lost you too. 

“Rhett, I-” Your voice broke on his name, “I never-” 

A crack of lightning split the dark sky, searing white through the pine trees. 

You yelped, flinching hard as thunder chased it. Loud and violent, rolling straight through your chest. The clouds above broke open without mercy, unleashing a curtain of rain that drenched you both in seconds.

“Shit,” Rhett swore, instinctively drawing you closer. His hands slid from your jacket to your waist, gripping tightly, like holding you would somehow shield you from the downpour.

But it was too late. You were already soaked through. The cold water clung to your skin, your clothes heavy and sticking to every curve. Hair plastered to your cheeks, eyes blinking through water, you twisted in his grasp, jacket clutched uselessly around your shoulders.

“Fuck, where…” You turned in a frantic circle, trying to orient yourself. The bonfire was too far, there was no way you'd make it back without slipping or getting lost in the dark. Another streak of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a violent rumble of thunder that echoed through your ribs.

But where the fuck would you go instead?

“The rock!” Rhett shouted, barely audible over the roar of rain.

“What?” You yelled back, shoving soaked hair out of your eyes.

But he didn’t answer. He grabbed your wrist and took off, hauling you after him. Mud sucked at your boots and the trail blurred beneath the veil of water. You stumbled behind him, heart hammering, lungs burning, too breathless to speak and too afraid to stop.

He veered off the trail suddenly, ducking into the dense trees, branches slapping at your arms and snagging your clothes as you pushed through. Then, out of nowhere, you saw it.

The rock.

Not a rock, really a boulder. Tucked deep between a cluster of old pines, the base hollowed out by erosion and time. A natural alcove, just deep enough for shelter.

You didn’t know how Rhett had seen it, maybe he’d known it was there all along, but in the haze of rain and noise and panic, it looked like a miracle.

He dropped to his knees first, ducking beneath the overhang, then turned to pull you in with him. You scrambled after him, collapsing onto the damp earth, your back pressed to cold stone, water dripping from every part of you.

The storm raged just beyond the mouth of the shelter, wind lashing at the trees, rain hammering down on pine needles and leaves in a relentless drum.

But inside the hollow, it was dim. Quiet by comparison and close.

Too close.

You could barely catch your breath.

You sat with your knees pulled up, jean jacket wrapped tight around you, watching water trickle down the slope just a few feet away. Soaked to the bone. 

Rhett stayed close to you, sitting with his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t said a word since pulling you off the trail. His hat was off, sitting a bit away from his form, hair matted to his forehead.

The silence gnawed at you, “I’m sorry.” You said quietly, your voice nearly lost beneath the soft rumble of distant thunder.

Rhett didn’t turn to face you. But you saw his jaw clench, the flicker of breath in his chest. Breathing hard like the sprint had taken more from him than he’d admit.

He wiped a hand down his face and leaned back against the rock, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make it sound easy.” His voice was hoarse. You nodded hesitantly, dropping your chin to your knees as you looked out of the mouth of the shelter. Rain was still pelting the ground in front of you, humidity creeping its way closer to the two of you. 

“I’m not asking for a pass.” You mumble into your knees, “I wasn’t trying to leave you behind. I was just… running. From everything.” Your heart clenches as your mind walks you through old memories, the fear you remember the most being when you found that ring in Perry’s duffle. 

How scared you felt that you might end up trapped forever. 

Rhett sighed through his nose, head leaning back against the stone behind him. The rain was softer now, more like mist than fury. The sound of it filled the spaces where words couldn’t go.

The sudden zip of his Carhart drew your attention back to him, watching with curious eyes as he shrugged it off and tossed it into the dirt next to him. You lifted your head off your knees as he then started to unto the buttons on his dark green flannel.

“What are you doing?” You asked hesitantly, furrowing your brows as he struggled with the last few buttons near the bottom. 

“You're freezing. And your teeth chattering is makin’ me annoyed.” Despite the way he phrased it, there was not an ounce of venom in his voice as he pulled the flannel off and held it out to you. 

Gently, your fingertips came to your mouth, surprised that your teeth were chattering quite violently. 

Your heart caught somewhere between shame and something else- something soft.

Once you accepted the flannel, Rhett was already pulling the Carhart over his shoulders. You followed after him, sitting up on your knees to have more room. Your jean jacket made an audible plopping noise as you dropped it to the ground, the heavy fabric soaked through with rain. Already you felt warmer with it off, even warmer now with something dry covering you up.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw his face turn to you. You ignored his gaze, settling back down beside him, a little closer than earlier. 

Finally, you glanced over at him. His jaw was tight. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

“I meant it, you know.” You said, voice low, “I never meant to hurt you.”

His eyes flicked to yours, then away again, like looking at you too long would cost him something.

“You still did.”

You nodded slowly, “I know.”

The silence stretched again, but something inside it had shifted. The fight had burned off into something softer, quieter. Wounded still, but not sharp.

You moved a little closer, not touching him, just enough to close the space between your words and his silence. The rain outside grew louder again, a burst of wind driving it sideways against the rock. Instinctively, you reached for him, fingers brushing the roughness of his soaked jacket sleeve.

He flinched, barely. But didn’t pull away.

“I missed you.” You whispered. And it was true. The truest thing you had ever said in your entire twenty-nine years. 

So true, it ached. 

His voice came out rough, “I don’t know if I can let myself miss you. Not like before.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Your fingers found the cuff of his jacket, holding on like he would run, “But I don’t want to lie to you, either.”

He looked at you then, really looked. Water still clung to his lashes, his cheeks flushed from cold and emotion both. He looked like someone trying not to drown.

And then, slowly, carefully, he reached up and tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear. His palm grazed your cheek, and your breath hitched.

You leaned into his hand, and when he didn’t pull away, you turned your face just slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his palm.

It wasn’t a kiss full of heat or resolution, it was quiet. Apologetic. A confession in a language both of you still barely spoke. Just a simple brush of your chapped lips to his warm flesh. 

When your eyes met again, he gave you a look you’d seen once before, years ago, under starlight outside of his house: vulnerable and unguarded, scared of the answer.

So when you leaned forward and kissed him, it wasn’t desperate. It was slow and soft. Like you were asking permission with every inch.

And for just a moment, he let you.

He kissed you back. Not deeply, not with abandon, but with the aching weight of someone who hadn’t stopped wanting this, even when he tried.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded.

“I can’t go back to how things were.” He murmured and you could still faintly smell the beer on his breath. 

“I’m not asking you to,” You whispered, “just… stay here. For now.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

You were about to pull back when he pulled you back in, big fist twisting in the material of the flannel. Rhett’s chapped lips found yours once again, mouth moving tentatively against yours, as if he was asking permission but couldn't find the words. 

Kissing back with the same amount of tenderness, you let your eyes slip close. Slowly, as if not to spook him, you rose up on your knees to get a better angle, back hurting at the way you were twisted. 

Your mouth broke from his for just a second, but Rhett was already chasing you upwards. 

You steadied yourself against his broad shoulders, the pads of your fingers pressing in on his jacket as his hands drifted to your hips, skimming his fingers lightly over your sides. Your heart was pounding and your face was warm, his hands finally finding their place against your hip bones, thumbs pushing under the flannel and shirt to stroke against your bare skin. 

As you continued kissing him, one of your hands slowly moved upwards, cupping the sharp edge of his jaw. His stubble scratched against your cold skin, distracting you from the dirt digging into your knees from below. 

The rain and storm had faded from your memory, the only thing you could focus on now was the way Rhett pulled you into his lap, letting your knees fall to either side of his legs as you settled down on him. 

Those thick thighs slotting between your own, his strong arms pulling you close so your body was flush to his. 

Although it was clear that you wanted each other, the touches were kept tame. 

Still, you were kissing with closed mouths, only little slips of the tongue ever graced each other’s lips. Even your hands were respectful, Rhett’s never going any further than to rest on your lower back under the flannel. 

It was almost like you were seeing who would break first. Who would surrender and beg for more. Not in a teasing way, but in a way that would ruin you for the rest of your life. 

And it was looking like you might wave the white flag first. 

Cautiously, as if you didn't want to draw attention to it, you shifted your weight backwards, ass gently resting on the tops of his thighs. Slowly, you sat all your weight down. A little pang stung your heart at his warmth, skin buzzing with want. 

Rhett breaks the kiss and you freeze, worried that you pushed too far. His eyes are half-lidded when they meet yours, cheeks pink and so are the tips of his ears. 

Faintly, you can hear the rain behind you, but most of all the sharp cold smell of damp earth and pine surrounds the two of you, wrapping itself around you as if to reassure you it’s still there. 

He’s pushing you away, and you let him. 

It starts out as a hesitant nudge against your hips, his fingers wrapping around the flesh there. Then he’s averting his eyes, looking away as he firmly pushes you off of him. It’s not rude, not malicious, and you know that. 

But it hurts nonetheless. 

“‘s’too much.” He mutters once you are back in your own space, a respectable few inches between the two of you. And you nod, because it’s the only thing you can do. 

Leaning against the rock, you sigh through your nose, biting the inside of your cheek. The rain comes in waves, sometimes pelting the ground outside, only for the next minute for it to be just barely there. 

While you waited for it to die down, you messed around on your phone. Texting Beth back from her worried messages, wondering if you were okay. You had to hold your phone out and up, at a funny angle for it to even think about sending the text. 

Then, with your head back against the rock and your eyes half closed, his voice breaks through your almost-sleep, “Looks like it’s faded, lets go.” His tone is sudden and hard, like it was difficult for him to get the words out. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you awkwardly crawl out after him, taking the hand offering to help you up. 

You follow him out into the night, the air cold and damp, heavy with the smell of wet earth. The rain has finally stopped, but everything feels swollen with it. Like the world is holding its breath.

The walk back to your respective vehicles is eerily quiet.

-

You slept hard, too hard. The next morning passed in a blur of paperwork and heavy limbs. You didn’t hear from him at all. You didn’t expect to.

The work day crawls by, slow and gray, a clear sign that the colder months are settling in Wyoming. You scroll through texts you don’t respond to, wash clothes that weren’t dirty, and stare at your own reflection longer than you should in the dirty bathroom mirror.

When the sun starts to dip again, painting the sky in streaks of dull copper and muted indigo, a pressure builds low in your stomach. Like something’s coming, like the quiet is waiting to be broken.

It’s nearly nine when your phone rings. A shrill, confusing sound ripping its way through your dark living room that drowns out the movie you were watching. 

It’s an unknown number, which causes you to hesitate. Probably not a spam call, by the looks of the local 307 area code. Muting your movie, you answer and hold it close to your ear, sinking deeper into the worn couch. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a pause, long enough that has you thinking it just might be a spam call and you debate hanging up. 

The voice on the other end says your name, more like a question than a statement. It’s low and measured, female. 

“Yes, this is her. Who is this?” Your back stiffened as there was another pause. Something dark settled in your stomach. 

“This is Deputy Sheriff Joy Hawk with the Wabang Police Department. We’d like you to come in and give a statement.” The static makes her voice unsettlingly scratchy, hard to hear over the crackle. Your pulse flutters. 

“What’s uhm… What’s this about?” You clear your throat and sit up, picking at a loose fiber on the thigh of your sweatpants. 

“There was a body found this morning. Out in the field just past the Old Wind River Highway.”

You already know who. 

Joy continues carefully, “We believe the deceased may be connected to you or someone you may know.” 

Your breath doesn’t catch. You don’t drop the phone. You don’t say anything for a few seconds. Not because you’re panicking, but because you’re thinking. Trying to line up your thoughts, which suddenly feel like they’ve been spilled out of a well-organized drawer.

“I see…” You take in a shaky breath, chewing at your bottom lip, “Would this be able to wait until morning?” Your eyes flick to the watch sitting on your wrist. Now a bit past nine, but you have work tomorrow. 

Another pause. “We’d prefer to speak with you tonight, if possible.”

Glancing towards the window by your stairs, you see it’s rather dark. The kind of dark that has you drawing the blinds in fear you may see something out there that you don't want to. 

“Right. I live out in Lander so I-”

“Whenever you get here is fine. I'll see you soon.” Joy interrupts and ends the call abruptly, like something else grabbed her attention.  

You sit very still, your phone resting in your palm like it might ring again, taunting you as the movie keeps playing. The deafening silence settles again. 

And the movie still plays. It continues through a scene you've seen a million times before, and it makes you wildly uncomfortable. It still plays while he is dead. It didn't stop. You fumble with the remote and turn it off. 

You don't cry. Not because you don't feel anything, but because that feeling is complicated, sprawling, and you don’t have the energy or clarity to follow every thread of it right now.

Maybe you actually don't feel anything. Numb, something protecting you like an extra myelin sheath. 

You stand and move through your apartment slowly, methodically. You gather your things- keys, jacket, wallet. You don't bother changing out of your sweatpants and baggy top. Pausing only once, in the hallway mirror beside your front door.

Your face looks somewhat normal. Maybe a little gaunt. You wonder what they’ll see when you walk into the station. If they'll see just another name on a long list of people adjacent to the mess, or if they’ll see something else.

You leave.

-

The ugly fluorescent lights overhead buzz with quiet aggression, harsh against the ink-black sky outside. You can feel them needling into the base of your skull.

You freeze when you spot him.

Perry. 

His back is turned, shoulders hunched and rigid through a glass-paneled room behind the desk. When he glances over his shoulder, he doesn’t look dangerous.

He looks afraid.

You give your name at the front desk. The officer there barely glances up before waving someone over. There’s no waiting in the room, no pause. They were ready for you.

A younger officer escorts you to a narrow room with a window, the pane taking up a full wall and similar to Perry’s. You surrender your keys, phone, and wallet before stepping inside the open door, a small wooden chair waiting for you behind a matching table. 

The room was warmer than it needed to be, stale and uninviting. You take off your jacket and drape it over the backrest as you sit down. When you sit, you keep your spine straight. Not out of confidence, but because slouching would feel like giving something away.

It takes nearly twenty minutes before Joy enters. Her tan uniform wrinkled like she hadn't had the chance to change since coming into work this morning. Her smile, despite being guarded, is warm as she greets you, shaking your hand as you stand before her. 

“Thanks for coming in.” She says, gesturing toward the seat. “Shouldn’t take long.”

You nod and sit again, this time on the edge of the seat. You couldn't run, the door was already closed. But you just couldn't relax in the stifling room. Joy studies you for a beat. You meet her gaze, calm but unblinking. She’s already looking for cracks.

Forcing yourself to relax, you slouched a little bit, the backrest digging into your ribs uncomfortably. 

“How do you know Trevor Tillerson?” Joy asks as she perches herself on the edge of the table, reaching her arm out to steady herself on the flat surface. 

There it is. His name. 

“We went to high school together. We never really talked- didn't run in the same circles I guess." You explained, picking at a hangnail on your thumb. 

Your heart was pounding.

Joy nodded. You expected her to whip out a pen and some paper to start writing your story down, but she stayed put, long braids trailing over her rounded shoulders, “I understand you saw him last Wednesday, at the bar?”

“Briefly, yeah.” You brushed some hair from your face.

“Can you tell me about that night?” 

Hesitating, you look past her and out the window, keeping your head low. You couldn't see anything but a few plaques on the darker beige walls. 

You’re calculating how much to give her. If Perry’s here, Rhett has to be too. 

“I was feeling sick-” You started, looking back down to your hands, “So I went outside to… puke, I guess.” You were embarrassed to admit it out loud, as if she had not seen a decaying body that morning, “I saw Perry in an argument with Trevor and it was getting heated. Rhett came out and broke it up.”

Looking up, her eyes bore into your soul. Joy shifts her weight slightly, the movement subtle but deliberate. 

“Did Rhett and Trevor get into it?” Joy asked, pressing further. You get the sense that she already knew the answer to that question, the tone of her voice gave it away. It was more like she wanted you to confirm her suspicion. 

You nod, “A little pushing. Nothing serious.” A lie. Trevor’s bloody face resurfaced in your thoughts. You vaguely remember Rhett’s request to keep quiet about what happened when he met you in the street. 

“Was Maria there?”

Nodding, you hummed a confirmation, confused why Maria would be important at all to why Trevor’s body was resting in the morgue. 

“And she went home with Rhett?”

Your brow creases, “No. She left with her friends. Rhett walked me back inside. Then he left with Perry.” Your hands were wrung tight under the table. 

“So you saw the Abbott boys leave toge-” She started, furrowing her dark eyebrows.

You shake your head, interrupting her, trying to get your story straight, “I didn’t see them leave. But Rhett went out to get his truck through the front. Perry was the last one I saw with Trevor in the back.”

Joy’s fingers begin tapping a soft rhythm on the table. Her silence feels strategic.

“Alright. Sit tight. If you need anything, Matt’s outside.”

She’s gone before you can respond. The door clicks again. Heavier this time.

You sit in silence. The minutes pass slowly, marked only by the quiet cracking of your knuckles, one at a time, deliberate. You’re not restless. You’re burning through your nerves in controlled bursts.

When Joy returns, her tone has shifted.

“So were you with Rhett that night?” The question lands on you like a stone to your chest, making your face heat up at the insinuation. Joy knew all about you and Perry, it was hard not to in a small town. For her to even be suggesting that made you sick to your stomach. 

“I went home with my friend Beth Dellucci, I can give you her contact to verify.” The words were gritted out between your teeth, cheeks burning in embarrassment as you lowered your eyes to your shoes. 

“Alright boys! Let's get you home.” An unfamiliar man’s voice tore through the station.

Both your heads snap toward the sound. Joy mutters, “I’ll be back.” Her voice clipped as she left again. Even with the door shut with a heavy sound, you can still hear the faint sounds of arguing between a few people, more doors being slammed shut. 

You’re halfway out of the chair when she returns, this time holding everything you gave the younger officer. 

“You’re free to go. Save the number I called you on. We’ll likely need to follow up.”

You pause, standing up fully, “Why do you keep asking me about Rhett? Am I a suspect?” The words come out quiet, the door still being held open with her foot.

Joy lets out a long sigh through her nose, looking into the empty hallway before back at you, shutting the door so the two of you are alone again, “Because earlier today Maria falsely created an alibi for Rhett and told Matt she was with him.” Her words were hushed, “She admitted that she lied but informed me that you were the last one she saw him with.” 

“But I went home with Beth, Rhett walked me to her.” You tried explaining again. You had no idea what happened after Rhett left to get his truck. 

“Trevor’s body was found in one of the Abbott’s pastures.” Joy’s voice was sharp, stinging. But it was nothing compared to the freeze that gribbed your spine. You felt like you might suffocate. 

“So my question still stands.” Joy continues, seemingly satisfied at your shocked reaction so you finally understand why the Abbotts are so important to this, “Rhett was missing for two very important hours and no one can confirm where he was.”

-

The night air hits you like a slap- cool, sharp, alive in a way the interrogation room never was. For a second, you just breathe. The sky above is full of little stars, and the parking lot glows under flickering overhead lamps, each one casting a pale halo on the dry gravel.

Then you see them.

Perry, pacing like a caged animal near the hood of his old pickup truck, cigarette clenched tight between his fingers. Rhett leans against the passenger door of another nearby truck, arms crossed, jaw tight. And Royal, standing between them like a man holding a tight leash on two fighting dogs.

They see you before you can decide whether to turn back.

Perry’s wild, red-rimmed eyes lock on you, “You.” He spits, taking a step forward, “What’re you doin’ here? Dragging our names through like we’ve got anything to do with it.”

Rhett doesn’t move. His gaze shifts to the ground, but you catch the flick of his eyes in your direction. He knows something.

“Perry…” Royal warns, voice low.

“Joy called me, I didn't choose to come here tonight.” You snapped back, planting your feet firmly to the rocks, “And I didn't drag anyone, I told the truth.”

Perry’s already moving closer, arms flaring out from his sides, cigarette forgotten and burning between two fingers, "You're full of shit. What the fuck did you say about us?” All bluster and rage, but you see the fear under it. 

Bubbling up in every twitch of his jaw.

And although you stand your ground, Perry looks at you. That same dead look he gave you outside the bar. Swaying, looking past your form. 

“That’s enough Perry.” Royal barks at him, dropping a heavy hand upon his shoulder. It causes him to look away from you, relieving you of the hold his eyes had on you. 

“I didn't kill him.” Perry hissed at you, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you. You stare at Perry, heart knocking against your ribs now. 

He’s not trying to clear his name. He's trying to redirect blame. Push it around like a virus no one wants to touch. And you realize something important.

He’s not scared you’ll think he did it.

He’s scared you know something.

“What did you do to him, Perry?” The words come out soft and bare, raw as you ask him truthfully. 

He lunges.

Not far. Not enough to touch you. But his whole body jerks forward, and it’s Royal’s hand that stops him by gripping the arm of his jacket. Rhett pushed himself off of the truck and quickly crossed the short distance, yanking Perry back from you by his elbow. 

You're frozen in time, watching as Perry pants like he’s just run a mile. Something shifts in his eyes again, realizing something.

Pushing the other two men away from him, he storms back to his truck, slamming the door behind himself. Royal follows reluctantly, muttering something to himself as he climbs in his own truck. 

Rhett lingers, hesitating near you. 

“He thinks everyone’s out to get him.” Rhett murmurs. 

You meet his eyes, “Should they be?”

Rhett doesn’t answer. He just exhales through his nose, gaze dark and distant. Then he walks back to his dad’s truck.

Both vehicles roar to life, tearing away before they've even warmed up properly, the night swallowing them up.

But the question stays with you. 

And you don't feel safe anymore in Wyoming. 

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

Tag List: @keepingitlokiii @deadlybeauty16 @beebeerockknot @scrunchylew @qutequeersstuff

[rhettabbotts]

practice makes perfect - pornstar!rhett abbott x reader

pairing: pornstar!rhett abbott x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: rhett wants to prepare you before your first day on set.

warnings: 18+ only. age gap. fingering. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. oral (f). squirting. rhett’s hairy chest.

a/n: i just wanted to give everyone a little taste of the man that is pornstar rhett! i’m so excited to world build and share more of this story! i hope you enjoy! <3

“You’re gonna have to relax, doll,” Rhett cooed as he spread your thighs apart. “You can’t be this stiff in front of the camera.”

“I’m just nervous,” you muttered timidly. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re gonna be a star, honey. We just gotta loosen you up. Here, sit up.”

Rhett’s strong arms pulled you into a sitting position, his large hands massaged your biceps gently. His cobalt blue eyes looked into yours and you fought the urge to look away. He was intimidating, but not in a scary way. He was larger than life in your eyes. And you were just a girl from a small town who barely had anything figured out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll. Promise. C’mon, shake it out,” he held you by the shoulders and shook you lightly, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. “There it is, there’s that smile.”

He laid you back and started to place tender kisses against your neck, his lips burning a trail down your body in their descent. The day old stubble scratched across your sensitive skin. The soft glow coming from the lamp on the bedside table created a calming environment. At least it wasn’t hot, bright studio lights.

“You taste so sweet. Can’t wait to get my mouth on that beautiful pussy. Gonna taste like a damn peach,” Rhett spoke with a slight growl.

Your breath stuttered as he mouthed the edge of your panties. They weren’t special. A pale pink pair with frilly lining. His tongue ran along your folds through the cotton, flicking against your clit before doing the same motion a few more times. You could feel the cool air hitting against the wet spot and it sent shivers over your body.

Rhett didn’t waste much time pulling the panties to the side and dove right in. Expert tongue pointedly thrusting into your dripping hole. The lewd noises of his ministrations filled the large room. A sheen of sweat covered your bodies and you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking against his face.

“Goddamn… fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” Rhett mumbled before wrapping his lips around your swollen bud. The suction caused a scream to erupt from you and your juices covered his mouth and chin as your release hit you forcefully.

He slowed his movements but he didn’t pull back, instead he just slid two thick fingers into your fluttering hole. It didn’t take him long to find that special spot inside, curling his fingers and making a ‘come hither’ motion.

Your thighs trembled and your whimpers were loud and wanton. Rhett pulled away from you long enough to start running his mouth.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a damn leaf. You’re so damn sensitive. I bet I could make you come again if I just told you to. So eager to please. Such a good little girl. They’re gonna love you, sugar. Now, c’mon. Come for me, little girl.”

You came once more, this time harder than the first and you couldn’t hide the way you felt a little embarrassed at the sound of your wetness. You nearly soaked his hand. He hadn’t even pulled his fingers out before he was attaching his mouth to your cunt once more. Your third orgasm came quickly after the second and you drenched his face once more.

Rhett pulled away with a satisfied grin on his face, your release trailing down his chin and into his chest hair.

“Just as delicious as I thought. You whine like that in the movies and you’ll have every guy blowing their load in their pants,” he joked as he wiped your juices off with the back of his hand. You didn’t want to tell him but you were even more nervous. Because if Rhett wasn’t your scene partner, then how the hell would anyone ever make you come the way he just did?

[seeyalaterinnovator]

Float Away- Rhett Abbott x Reader

Rhett Abbott x reader smutty drabble... I feel so rusty but my wonderful friend @hederasgarden really inspired me the other day to work on this... the idea itself really belongs to her as well as she initially wrote the idea, and this is my take on it (with her permission of course)

Content warnings: NSFW content (18+ please), overstimulation, afab reader, reader has enough hair to pull, pet names .. please let me know if I missed any

WC: 750

“C’mon darlin’, just let go, I got you.” 

Rhett’s calloused hands gripped firmly at the silky, tender flesh of your hips and tugged them up closer to his own. A throaty, desperate whine passed through parted lips in response to the resulting achy, warm burn that pulled at your sides, your spine stretched impossibly farther each time his strong hips rocked against your plump ass. You tried (and failed) to shake your head no, but it was no use as your cheek was pressed firmly into the mattress. “I-I can’t Rhett, I can’t, not again.” You panted, words nearly lost against the cool fabric of the sheets that did little to quell the ever growing flush present on your face. He’d been at this for some time, and you’d lost count of how many times your core fluttered and spasmed around him. Still, Rhett knew your body and knew you had more to give, more to let go of. 

The warmth of his hand crawled over the curve of your ass and kneaded the flesh, his eyes blown with lust at how pliant you were in his grasp. His strong hand continued its path along the sinew of your spine, following each dip and curve until it settled between your shoulder blades. With just enough pressure to steal your breath away, he pressed down on that spot, your chest sinking further into the mattress.“You can, and you will.” His voice, like warmed honey, served to ease the tension that lingered in your frame. 

Behind you, his weight shifted closer and his body caged you in. A warm puff of breath tickled at your skin, his hand soon replaced by his lips in the center of your back. There he placed a light, teasing kiss, serving to ground you in the moment. “Rhett I-” Your eyes shined with unshed tears that finally rolled down the side of your face as you screwed them shut.

“You will because I told you to. Don’t forget, I know exactly what you need.” He warned, his voice thick with need. Rhett held back and ignored the tingling sensation that steadily grew at the base of his spine. This wasn’t about him. He could hold off a little longer if it meant that he could get you to that headspace you desperately craved. 

You were close, body strung taught like a bow, your muscles trembled with every thrust and touch. Your mind hummed with the desire to submit, to give in to his will and just float away. Yet you fought against the current, unable to allow the ebb and flow to drown out the rest of the world. Rhett threaded his calloused fingertips through the roots of your hair and pulled, winding the tendrils into his grasp tight enough to force your head back. Pain pricked at your scalp and fresh tears collected at the corners of your eyes. A sharp gasp was music to Rhett’s ears, he knew he had you right where he wanted you. 

“C’mon Baby, do it for me.” He pleaded through a smile. 

Rhett’s free hand wound around your hip and buried itself in the velvet heat between your legs. His finger stroked against your clit with firm steady movements and your core pulsed in response. His hips thrusted faster as he threw more weight and strength into you. Unable to stave off the tightening coil that sat like a heavy weight low in your abdomen, you gave in and allowed your body to relax into your boyfriend. 

“Oh, I-!” You came with a cry, fingers fisting at the sheets you were pressed tightly into. 

“I know, I know.” He shushed, his own pleasure chasing after your own. 

For a moment, the only sound that filled the room was your combined heavy pants and the occasional groan from Rhett as your core still fluttered around him. He took a moment to compose himself and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the dirty blond locks away from the beads of sweat that gathered on his forehead. 

A heavy, sated warmth spread through your body, weighing down your limbs to the point where you weren’t sure if you could move them on your own accord. Rhett was two steps ahead of you though as he gently guided your hips back down against the mattress and stretched your stiff, sore legs out. You were pure putty in his hands. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You did so good for me.” He whispered, hands gently caressing and rubbing back the life into your legs.

[bradshawsbaby]

“don’t worry, i’ll always come get you.” and “i didn’t have anywhere else to go.” scream rhett to me!! like you could call this man up at any time and he would drop everything to come to you

I hope it’s alright, but I decided to edit one of the prompts slightly to make them work a little bit better together. So “I didn’t have anywhere else to go” became “I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Hope you enjoy!

“Hullo?”

Rhett’s voice was groggy when he picked up on the fifth ring, and you could tell you had just woken him up out of a deep sleep. You winced, guilt assailing you when you heard the exhaustion in his husky greeting. It was nearly three in the morning, and you knew he’d have to be up in a few hours to start doing his morning chores around the ranch.

“Rhett.” Your voice was soft as you uttered his name, pressing your phone closer to your ear and turning your back on the entrance to The Handsome Gambler. “It’s me.”

You could hear the rustling of his sheets, the picture of him bolting upright in his bed floating clearly across your vision. The sound of your name on the other end of the line, falling from his lips, caused tears to spring unbidden to your eyes.

“Where are you?” he asked, a gruffness to his tone that you knew had nothing to do with frustration and everything to do with worry and concern.

“The Handsome Gambler. Can you come pick me up?” you asked, your voice sounding pitifully small, even to your own ears.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t move,” he instructed you. You could already tell he was jumping out of bed, reaching for whatever clothes he could find first.

“Thank you, Rhett,” you murmured, ending the call and burrowing further into your jacket, your back pressed up against the wall as you tried to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

True to his word, as always, Rhett’s truck pulled up in front of the bar exactly twenty minutes later, his hair sticking up in all different directions as he jumped out and slammed the door shut. Evidently he’d been in such a rush that he hadn’t even thought to grab one of his hats.

“Are you alright?” he demanded, closing the space between you in seconds and pulling you in, his blue eyes scanning your face for any sign of trouble.

“Yes,” you assured him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I just really want to go home,” you confessed.

Rhett tore his gaze away from your face long enough to glance at the door of The Handsome Gambler, his expression hardening slightly as he turned back to look at you.

“Roxie still in there?” he questioned, his warm hands still resting on your upper arms.

You just nodded in response, ducking your chin to avoid his eyes.

“It’s not your responsibility to take care of her. You know that, right?” he asked, his tone softening as he hooked a finger under your chin to lift your face.

You laughed without humor. “It feels like it is.”

“If your big sister wants to drag you out every weekend so that she can get trashed, that’s her problem, not yours. Let her figure out her own way home. I’m taking you back now,” he said, draping his sweatshirt over your shivering shoulders and walking you to his truck.

As he opened the passenger door for you, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Rhett. I know it’s so late. I just…I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

Rhett grew very still, carefully lifting one hand to brush his fingers down your cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “I’ll always come get you.”

late night prompts

[attapullman]

Oh my god, okay, I NEED "being shocked that they eat something in a peculiar way (like the whole how to eat a Kitkat debate)" With Rhett pllleeeaaassseee?? 🥰 p.s. I adore you

Rhett 🤝 silly prompts.

That man is ridiculous and I love him. How dare he be adorable when doing things that make me want to smack him in the head!

P.S. I adore YOU!!!

Drabble Day

"What are you doing?!"

Mountain blue eyes widen at you, his mouth frozen around a bite of mozzarella. The tiny cheese stick is dwarfed in his hand, a quick snack before he continues cleaning out the horse stalls.

Thin lips pull back, pursing as he glances at the cheese before back at you. “Eatin’?”

“Clearly.” Such a Rhett response that you can’t help but roll your eyes. “You don’t eat string cheese that way, you monster.”

The expanse of smooth skin between his brows crinkle, that familiar face of confusion taking over his features. It’s almost as if you have a X-ray into his brain, watching him battle whether you’re pulling a trick on him or not. He got you pretty good last week with that ghost prank when the generator failed. Those two remaining brain cells from years of bull riding are working hard when he finally locks eyes with you.

“It’s fuckin’ cheese, how else are ya supposed to eat it?” Rhett thrusts the tiny white snack at you, fingers fumbling over each other as he towers over you to watch. 

He’s mesmerized and bewildered as he observes you peel back a tiny bit of the cheese, the grain of the mozzarella exposed as you hand him the thin string. “It’s the ‘string’ in string cheese.”

His hand claps around the back of his neck, scratching the sweat-drenched hairs stuck to the skin. Cheeks tinged a delicate pink from embarrassment at not knowing. You feel bad he had a whole childhood devoid of string cheese. He’s speechless as you hand him back his snack, patting him on the chest good naturedly. 

You’re already back to looking for your own snack when you feel the full force of a cowboy hug sweep you from behind. “I ever tell ya that your my fav’rite?”

[38livesalone-has3cats]

absolutely desperate to start writing again😫 pls send in any lewis pullman character requests or just requests in general LMAO

im just highkey hyperfixated on lewis rn😭

sorry its been a while lolz, pls send em in !!

[cyber-crustacean]

Rhett leaves the house after shutting down his device. He just really needed some time to think, some time to process- and to do something to get his jitters to cool down.

It was at least a good excuse to try to get done some of the chores he was procrastinating on. Lifting some hay bales onto a cart will probably help him burn off these antsy-jitters he was having.

Unfortunately, nothing he could do could really satisfy that need to punch the fuck out of that guy. He continued to pull the weeds, swap out the seeds he was drying out, taking aggression out on the bundle of firewood he needed to chop- but nothing.

That was, until a familiar, grating shriek echoed our from above him. His feathers immediatley frilled up, hackles raised as a ragged bundle of feathers and claws descended upon him from the skies.

Rhett was pushed down into the dusty earth, the raptor that had attacked him sinking their talons into his flesh. It was unfortunate however... for this hawk, not the rooster. Unfortunate that Rhett had already been so riled up.

Spurs kicking, claws and talons digging up flesh and dirt, kicking up dust and blood that tainted the air with the foul scent of iron and earth.

Nothing but feathers in a mass of red and gray scattered the ground, blood dripping into the rich soil below their feet.

The hawk began to limp away, trying to retreat from the mess. another attack and abscond from the same bird that had tried this song and dance multiple times over-

Rhett stamps his leg down, digging talons into the other's spine. The offending bird cawed out, crying and trying to squirm.

"Ah!! Ahh-!! Uncle!! Uncle!!! I said uncle-!!"

His sharp nails just dug deeper into him

"Listen here, pardner... y' better get yerself sorted out somewhere else. Because if I catch a glimpse of ya 'round these parts again, if I even hear a god darn rumor that you've been stalking out hens again, I swear to God, Harvey, I WILL kill you next time."

The other thrashed and kicked in his clutches. What a poor excuse for a bird of prey... eventually Rhett lifts his foot up, and "Harvey" begins to squirm and thrash away until he can get his wings to behave- then flapped and thrashed until he was now flying away

The lone rooster lifts his hand to his cheek, just under his eye were he felt the blood spilling down his face. He had to admit, they got a good strike on him this time.... it was rather hard to see with all this blood burning in his eye.

He has no idea how long it's been... probably a few hours... Rhett decides that he'll clean his wounds and go check on everyone in a bit.

SOMEONE needs to figure all this our, anyway...

[sebsxphia]

i NEED to fuck rhett with him still wearing all of his rodeo gear. you’ve both got heightened adrenaline from a particularly good ride and you waste no time in pushing him to the hallway floor in your home. he wants you to ride the winning cowboy. you’re grabbing fistfuls at his padded vest and bouncing on his cock, with your breasts spilling out of your sundress. he then picks you up and plants you on the kitchen table, with your knees bent back to your chest. he’s roughly pounding into, with his stetson hat still on and tilting forward. he looks so big and tall as he towers over you in his rodeo gear.

[brainicusrotticus]

the crucial event that tied doc!sol and vace together:

they set off for the subaqueous swamp. sol drives the transport vehicle, and brings a bag for storing samples. he practically forced a second bag on vace, but that’s alright because vace forced sol to carry a plaspistol, in addition to bringing his own plasrifle, stun gloves, and a hunting knife.

they get to the swamp, and go about doing their thing. vace gets a bit twitchy a few times, but sol gives him the stern “don’t shoot at shit unless we’re about to die” look, and it’s enough to settle him down.

they’re there for hours. sol darting from plant to plant, vace just following and keeping an eye out.

it gets within about two hours of sundown, which means they’re going to need to leave soon. there’s also a heavy looking storm moving in, so sol is trying to get some last readings from another new species of plant that seems to have solid healing properties.

vace seems on edge. he’s usually been quietly pacing about, always looking out for shit. but sol takes a quick breather from this plant, and realizes vace is standing very nearby, and very still.

something feels off, but vace can’t tell what it is. and that’s not good.

sol takes him seriously, because that’s what vace is there for. he unholsters his plaspistol (for show, because it’s not like he actually know how to use the thing), goes for a sample of this last plant, and then they’ll get moving back to the transport.

first rule of vertumna: it’s never just a plant.

this plant turns out to be the hook for a creature fairly reminiscent of a snapbladder. and the second sol touches it, the trap springs.

it gets a decent clamp on sol. across his left shoulder and chest. it’s clearly not sized for human prey, but it’s bite is strong enough. it’ll bruise, and its teeth break the skin, but it’s not all that worrying.

it lets go when vace fires some non-lethal shots into it, and scurried away. vace goes to check on the doc, who assures him that it’s all fine.

but they haven’t been unnoticed. all day, noctilucent has been keeping tabs on them. waiting for a good opportunity to strike. and what better opening than worried distraction?

but he’s mean. he aims for the hard hits.

he drops a tree on them.

vace manages to swing the doc out of the way, and takes the full force of a falling tree on himself. not that solane being present would’ve changed that, then they’d just both take the full force of a falling tree. and it would end much worse for one of them.

it’ll leave some bruises on him. might’ve even left a few small cracks in the bones. but this is vace. he’ll be fine.

there’s only one major problem.

his legs are pinned under it. and he’s strong, but not super strong, and it’s hard to get proper leverage when you’re face down on the ground. sol is managed to catch his breath after being thrown to the ground (really just failing to catch himself), and is about to get up and go to vace…

but noctilucent emerges from the bushes. still dripping, like he’d crawled right out of the swamp water.

(he did)

sol hasn’t met noct before, but he knows about gardeners from sym

particularly that there are a number of gardeners who want the whole colony gone. and who think “dead” is good enough.

and in this particular scenario? he doesn’t really get the feeling this is going to be a friendly chat. he wonders if noct was the one responsible for the looming stormclouds.

noct knows how to threat assess. also, he’s been watching them all day. he knows that one of these individuals knows how to use a gun, and the other is a goddamn nerd. so vace presently being stuck under a tree? means that problem can be dealt with immediately.

so noct goes to him.

and stomps on vace’s head with those ugly ass hooves of his.

but, it’s vace. he’s built different. it’ll leave a bump, and left a little split in the skin that bleeds a bit, but it’s probably not even enough for a concussion.

(sol definitely has that brief moment of “i just witnessed a murder” before he remembered vace’s augment)

but noct keeps going. he gets another 3-4 in before sol throws himself on vace, literally wrapping around noctilucent’s leg like an octopus. screaming for him to stop.

and noct backs up a step. mostly because he’s surprised by the sheer audacity sol is showing.

and sol covers vace’s body with his own.

he doesn’t know how to fight. his plaspistol isn’t in reach, he can’t see vace’s plasrifle, the only thing he has is the knowledge that gardeners don’t die when their body is killed. he isn’t a soldier.

but he has to be.

vace is out of it. he seems to be wavering on consciousness, but his legs are still stuck and he definitely has at least a concussion now.

sol is the only one who can help them right now.

he’s shaking and sobbing, pressed overtop of vace. he can see something like amusement in noct’s eyes, and it pushes him that much further.

noct leans down. he wants to meet this human eye to eye, to mock sol for this before he kills them both. he’s absolutely focused on the full-faced misery of sol.

it’s classic, really. a common trick used by magicians in old holovids.

misdirection.

noct doesn’t see sol work vace’s knife free of the belt. he isn’t as guarded with sol. this human has only ventured beyond the colony a handful of times, and has never shown any prowess for combat.

sol isn’t a threat.

and as the doctor, lightning quick, wraps a hand around the back of noctilucent’s neck and slices so deep he leaves a cut across his own palm, he wonders if noct will remember this. feel some primal unease the next time he sees solane. or if, like his recent memories, all sense of threat melts away with his body.

the sprinkling rain is starting to grow heavier. sol uses a thick branch to leverage the tree off of vace, and wishes desperately that he had the time to fully exam the damage.

but he doesn’t. utopia will probably realize something is wrong soon—probably sent a message to the transport when stratos picked up on the storm moving in, and is waiting for a response that indicates they’re heading back to the colony.

when it doesn’t come, she’ll report them as missing. normal protocol is a search and rescue party.

but the storm would make for hostile conditions. if it raises the water too much, there are parts of the road that’ll flood, and they might not even be able to get a squad to the swamp. unless the storm blows over in minutes (which is possible, if not likely), it’ll be nightfall or later by the time anyone can make it.

and nighttime isn’t a good time for a rescue squad. it just puts more people at risk. in most cases, they’d wait until day. rhett wouldn’t get any sleep over the worry and guilt, but he’d make the choice anyway.

except, maybe, for sol.

he’s a doctor. the only one who knows what to do besides instance. he has more old-school knowledge than instance, and a xenobotanist background. he’s valuable, and he hates knowing that. that someone might consider it worthwhile to risk other lives to save his own.

but others can be trained. medbeds can handle just about any problem, as long as they stay functional. rhett knows that, as much as he knows sol wouldn’t want others to risk themselves unnecessarily for him.

the doctor honestly doesn’t know what choice rhett will make, and doesn’t envy him having to make it.

(he’ll buy something nice for the security chief, if he gets out of this.)

(when. it has to be when.)

vace is conscious enough to move, a little. support his own weight, hopefully. but that’s about it.

sol gets him up, supports his weight on one side. vace has about eight inches and ninety pounds on sol, which is a fucking problem.

sol puts on his best rhett voice, and barks orders at vace. “time to push it, soldier! if you don’t, we’re both dead!”

he can’t honestly tell if it helped. he knows vace can’t do much. he knows he was mostly saying it for himself.

because if sol can’t manage this, they’re both dead.

they might get lucky. rhett might send a squad after all. nem might defy orders to come after them herself. dys might come for sol’s sake, with her or own his own. he might even get word to sym.

but sol can’t act like help is coming. can’t let himself do anything less than as much as he fucking can.

the sun has set by the time he gets them back to the transport, drenched and muddy and shaking. he barely manages to open the sliding door with one hand, and then has to lay vace on the floor from outside, get in, and drag him the rest of the way. he pulls wads of fabric from between his own teeth, put there to keep his teeth from cracking when he clenched it shut.

he can barely get the scraps out, with how tightly wound the muscles are. that’ll hurt in the morning.

(he’ll just add it to the list.)

he locks them inside the transport, and takes a chance to examine vace. he’s semi-conscious, definitely has a concussion. he can talk, a little, and vaguely understand context.

(he swears, mostly. given the context, yeah. sounds about right.)

the bleeding has stopped. there are some cracks in his skull, but nothing that feels imminently dangerous. already bruises and a hell of a black eye, and sol is pretty sure there’s a fracture along his left orbital bone. but those are all things a medbed can handle just fine. as long as he makes it to one.

sol straps vace into one of the bench seats, and gets the transport started. as expected, there’s several messages from utopia, and one from rhett. the storm interferes too much with comms for much to get through, but sol does what he can. a distress signal, canceled after three seconds. three seconds of silence, and then the signal sent again, canceled after three seconds. deliberate enough for them to know it’s a message.

he starts the transport home.

about ten minutes of slow travel down the road, it’s flooded. sol isn’t going to risk it, not after what he just went through. he parks them.

he unbuckles vace so he can lay the soldier down on the seats, and try to get some sleep. sol takes the floor, and sleeps in fits.

eventually, he jolts awake to the sound of a quiet drizzle.

he straps vace back in. he’s relieved to hear the mumbled complaints about ruining his sleep.

the floods come fast in the swamp, but they leave that way, too.

it takes another hour and a half, but eventually he sees the lights of the colony.

utopia and rhett are already at the outer post, pacing and watching the road. they see the approaching transport before the lookouts do, but not before dys and nem.

both of whom are sequestered right next to the security chief, and looking rather dour.

sol can see how much self restraint it takes to wait for the transport to roll in, and not just run to it.

as soon as it’s parked, someone starts trying to yank the door open.

(it’s locked and dead bolted, because sol wasn’t taking any chances.)

he unlocks it, and rhett yanks it open before sol can. all the doctor manages to say is vace’s name, before he’s being unbuckled and carried out in rhett’s arms.

held like a princess, limp and soaked in a way that makes his clothes and hair cling to him, vace looks like the kid he is. barely sixteen, too young to be dealing with this shit.

(they both are. hell, all of them are.)

sol doesn’t need help to move. he knows he looks like shit, but his adrenaline has been running so high for so long that he sprints ahead to prepare a medbed.

instance is waiting, but she knows someone who needs work when she sees it. she’ll be the one who cleans and cares for sol’s own wounds later, in the quiet silence of an active medbed. tang will uncurl from the corner where she’d been watching owlishly, to play the part of nursing assistant.

vace will be under for three days. it’ll heal all the worrying injuries, but sol knows the soldier can’t stand to spend forever in a medbed, even if he doesn’t remember it.

(and he doesn’t remember the medbed. but he does remember a surprising amount of that day. remembers the dissonance of hearing sol sobbing while also feeling deft fingers work his knife loose. knows noct died, and he couldn’t have been the one to do it. gets flashes of the slog back, of sol carrying him when he could only feel frustration at his weak, sluggish legs slipping in the mud.)

they’re different, after that. sol never acts like vace owes him anything, and starts taking self-defense lessons. neither one of them actually suggested it. they just made eye contact across the cafeteria one morning a week after the event, and walked to the garrison together to start.

vace trusts sol to do what’s necessary, and to know what that is. it’s hard not to, when you know the empathetic, xeno-loving doctor willingly killed a gardener. his trust grows from there.

and sol trusts vace to have subtlety, and sympathy. he never says more about that day than what sol himself admits, even after he tells sol he remembers it. he seems to pick up on the days when it’s really bothering the doctor, and finds a way to hover nearby. whether it makes sol feel safe, or reminds him that he saved someone, vace doesn’t know.

seeing the most trusted kids from each ship suddenly get along has a deep impact on not just their peers, but the adults too.

(lum hates it. he never managed to scare them, but he could usually get them to cooperate. now they do nothing less than exactly what they think is right, and the few times he’s tried to control them, they both just fixed him with a stare that said he was a problem they could solve the moment they decided to.)

it’s the start of a new era for stratos-helios relations.

the violent soldier who toughened the kind doctor, and let himself be soothed in return.

(nothing changed in them. not really.)

(they just learned how to balance.)

(and everyone else followed suit.)

[sorchathered]

I need some inspiration to get this chapter kicked off so I can submit it to you guys tomorrow! anybody want to send me some prompts?!

Smut prompts