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agendabymooner · 1 year

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MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: O-Z F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: I CANNOT OFFICIALLY FIT MY WORKS IN ONE POST 😭 so here is my alphabetical f1 masterlist!!!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

ALSO CHECK OUT:

MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY

MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY

alex albon (aa23)

front page lover (thai!kpop idol!ofc)

keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.

fashion week, smau: the williams driver and polly always got something for everyone to talk about.

double aa, socmed snapshot: a series of instagram stories in which alex is a dad to alice albon

own it, smau: alex's hidden talent is being a good boyfriend with a dash of photographer. ★

fernando alonso (fa14)

the breakup and makeup series (pro wrestler!ofc)

time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc) ♡

heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)

from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)

look what god gave her, smau: beatrice 'trish' alonso survived fernando's messy image better than anybody did. (f, g, h)

bonnie and the fame

maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)

ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.

oliver bearman (ob8)

ice ice baby, smau: kimi raikkonen's daughter romania raikkonen debuted in formula one with her friends AND it's safe to say that the iceman doesn't like ollie that much.

icy in saudi, smau: aroma raikkonen was ollie's biggest supporter in his f1 debut. plus, she also had her personal 'reverse harem' consisting of her best friends in the f2 grid. ★

ollie on thin ice(man), scenario: kimi raikkonen had proven himself to be oliver bearman's biggest hater at some point. ★

jenson button (jb22)

pride and pettiness (x british!actress!ofc)

one, 2004: in which, ada and jenson met for the first time.

the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f) ♡

shunt the hell up! (x hunt!driver!ofc)

shunt your lovers, kiss your enemies. smau: it was funny how enemies can be your teammate AND your lover at the same time. OR jj hunt, the daughter of the late james hunt, was jenson's biggest rival until a certain baby predicament cost her her entire racing career. (g) ♡

better enemies than strangers, smau: the brawn gp docuseries discussed jj hunt and the surprising turn of events in her rivalry/partnership with jenson in 2009. ★

other works

affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.

pierre gasly (pg10)

newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)

odds, fic: their timing was always wrong, maybe that's why pierre should consider making it even for the two of them as she writes songs about him and their courtship.

lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)

indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f) ♡

high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember. ♡

dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)

vintage, smau: pierre gasly is a husband and a fanboy of ensley soleil gasly amongst other things. (f)

hot dad era, socmed snapshot: pierre gasly. 30% f1 driver 70% dilf.

other works

do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.

lewis hamilton (lh44)

stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)

thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)

hands on and paws on, socmed snapshot: lewis is a stay-at-home dad to lottie hamilton and his best boy, roscoe, happens to watch his mummys everywhere she goes as she carries baby hamilton #2.

the hamilton daycare, fic: lewis is already a stay-at-home dad so what makes his day out in monaco with his two kids any different? (f) (2/3 of daddy, debriefed!)

where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)

lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.

crowned couple (x miss universe!ofc)

the couple of the universe, smau: lewis is a careless being this season and everyone's wondering why.

melody series (x performer!ofc)

summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her.

one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.

two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?

arthur leclerc (al12)

the scheming schumachers, smau: sunny schumacher is mick's cousin and what does a family do? they attract arthur leclerc to get him away from his best friend, who happens to be mick's girlfriend. thankfully, the schumacher cousin is something of a welcome distraction for the monegasque.

charles leclerc (cl16)

the leclerc boys series (x hearth sister!ofc)

debunking drama, smau: prequel to of long lines and names; aimee hearth, the mclaren media manager and one of the famous hearth sisters, was rumoured to be dating lando norris. a certain monegasque's baffled reaction became a trending topic in twitter as he counteracts the rumour with an instagram post of his lover. (f, h)

many kids with many names, smau: everyone found out that aimee and charles were having not only one but two babies. turned out, those two babies have at least a million name. (h) ★

of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)

the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own- not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men. (f) (1/3 of daddy, debriefed!) ♡

about names, scenario fics

summary: extension to of long lines and names and the leclerc daycare; charles and aimee's boys and their names go hand in hand OR times when the couple had to tell their kids that their names were signs of love and respect for their namesakes.

one, an amazing boy with an amazing name: hervé's anger left his parents confused after he refused to be called by his first name. thankfully, his mamé pascale had an easy access to his heart that eventually led to an answer to his sadness.

two, the wingman of maranello: jules leclerc learned two things as he travelled to italy with his father: he had an uncle named uncle teague and uncle teague had a best friend that was once charles' godfather.

other pieces

"slut", smau: charles' ex trashed his new girlfriend a while ago, but too bad he wasn't really into the thought of making music with anyone but lou villar.

breaking curses not hearts, smau: frankie bardot atkinson was also known for her curse in the film industry. after breaking her long streaked curse and finally won an oscar, was it finally charles' time to break his curse at monza gp?

kevin magnussen (km20)

family ties, smau: lando norris forgot that his brother-in-law is in the grid with him and lola norris magnussen couldn't help but make of her brother for it.

lando norris (ln4)

lover era (x alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)

i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)

✿ honey, honey! series masterlist - lando norris x ofc (honey-sue lewis) ft. sidemen

other pieces

too good to be true, smau: just a brief overview of lando’s relationship with a countryside girl who, beyond her introverted tendencies, was an unhinged, unserious yet amazing mother and girlfriend. ★

f1 drivers (general)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

✿ f1 voicemail blurbs - series of blurbs with voicemails left by the drivers. ★

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were...

#formula one masterlist #f1 masterlist #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 masterlist #formula one series

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ckret2 · 1 month

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I sympathize with you wholeheartedly because of how disappointing it is to have to change around the flatland-inspired lore of the fic because bill's homeworld doesn't seem to follow it. I will however say that as someone who was forced to read the book in high school geometry and hated it entirely for its powerful sexism, I'm kinda glad that it's not exactly the same thing, even if I do think a lot of the lore is cool. It was just such a male-centered book and seemed so smug about it, it was really hard to ignore.

The book is satire & critique of Victorian era social conventions, including the rigidity of its class system and how people defended it by saying the nobility were inherently "better" than the commoners (number of sides); the abuses of the poor & disabled, including euthanasia, and how they were written off as inherently stupid & criminal to justify their low position (isosceles triangles & irregulars); and, the way women were trapped, talked down to, treated like unthinking irrational animals, ignored when they spoke so they couldn't prove their rationality and dismissed when they got furious about this as just being too emotional.

In the book itself, the Sphere openly looks down on the Square's society for its disregard of women.

The book isn't smugly sexist; the book is mocking guys who are smugly sexist by exaggerating it to enough of an extreme that even Victorian era men would be able to see how messed up the system is.

And it apparently worked, since in a later edition of the book Abbott had to add in the intro that he doesn't believe those things about women, perhaps Mr. A Square has absorbed too much of his culture's propaganda about women? (Which means it succeeded in riling up readers—and also it sounded similar enough to the extreme end of real Victorian-era attitudes that some readers thought it was the real thing instead of satire, which tells you what kind of culture Abbott was up against.)

The book is openly advocating for increased respect for women's intelligence and autonomy by pointing a light on how horrible their treatment is.

#anonymous #ask #flatland

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janeyseymour · 4 months

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chosen family

summary: jacob hill has always been like something of a son to Melissa Schemmenti. You, Melissa's partner, make him realize that.

WC: ~3.3k

Melissa Schemmenti has always been drawn to people who could not be further from herself. It’s always been that way for her.

You are not the exception. You couldn’t be more different than the fiery redheaded teacher. Just like everyone else to work there that she is close with, you couldn’t be more different. You’ve picked up on this pattern. You’ve also picked up on other things concerning your new colleagues.

Barbara Howard is a perfect example of being entirely different from Melissa Schemmenti- her work wife, her platonic soulmate until the end of time. The first day, you were made very aware that Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were something of work wives and platonic soulmates. While yes, they both attend church every Sunday, the kindergarten teacher is much more devout. Barbara Howard is a rule follower, where Melissa bends the rules in ways nobody ever thought possible. While Barbara Howard is often steady and stable, Melissa Schemmenti could light someone’s car on fire over something as trivial as picking up the wrong pasta sauce on the way home.

Janine Teagues, someone who radiates sunshine and positivity, is somewhat of a daughter or a niece to the redhead. The same goes for Gregory- he’s like a son or nephew, in an odd way. You’ve learned that one thing to be aware of is that Janine is never stopping- she’s always going to the point of exhaustion and usually ends up creating a bigger mess than the one she was trying to clean up in the first place. You’ve learned that her and Gregory are dating; but apparently they’ve only officially been dating for a few months now. Before then, they’ve been the ‘will they, won’t they’ talk of the staff room.

Mr. Johnson has such a free spirit that it irritates Melissa at times. But they see eye to eye when it comes to important things in life- like how they would survive on a desert island or a zombie apocalypse. The two have a friendship that confuses both of them. He is there for fun, despite having a crucial part in the school.

Ava Coleman, at one point an enigma to the teacher, has a special spot in Melissa’s heart. At first, it was hatred. And then it was something of a kinship. Ava Coleman may not be conventional by any means, but it worked. Melissa found that she quite liked the zest and interesting takes that the principal held with her. It took time, but they found a rhythm, and that rhythm has since been perfected. Ava Coleman, much like the custodian, wants all fun and no work.

And that left Jacob Hill. Jacob hill, a soft and at times skittish gay man that Melissa couldn’t stand when he first was employed by the city of Philadelphia. But now? Now they’re like two peas in a pod. They’re quite the unconventional pair- a very soft and somewhat skittish gay man and a tough, mob-like redhead. But they seem to work. They seem to work far better than anyone had expected, including the two living together. And the last thing that you’ve come to understand about the young man is that Jacob Hill is something of a son to the fiery second grade teacher. When you first started working here, you actually did think that Jacob was her son- that was quickly laughed off by Janine and she told you the truth of the matter.

And since you’ve worked at Abbott, you’ve become quite close with the second grade teacher. You’re actually dating her now. It’s something that you’re still having a hard time grappling with. How could someone as beautiful and as… Melissa, as she is end up with someone like you?

But it seems to work out. The green eyed woman seems to be drawn to people who could not be further from her.

Jacob has quickly become a staple at the apartment that the two of you now share, him moving out a few months ago- it makes sense in all actuality. He and Melissa are quite close, and in turn the two of you are closer now as well.

You see how happy it makes your girlfriend to have the always grinning, and yet somehow still always subtly cynical, man around. You see it when she’s able to make him a plate of dinner, share lunch portions with him, when she’s able to give him advice (in teaching or other), when he’s settling on the couch with the two of you to watch what they know refer to as ‘their’ show. Melissa mothers him more than she mothers Janine, leaving that job to her platonic work wife. It’s a sweet little relationship that the two of them hold very dear to their hearts.

You’re about to enter the staff room when you hear the two of them chatting quietly over their lunches.

“You’re still coming over tonight to watch, right?” you hear your girlfriend ask.

You can hear Jacob scoff. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

“I figured now that you’re seeing Ravi a bit more seriously, maybe you would want to-”

“Mel Mel, no,” you hear the middle grades teacher laugh. You can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

You see this as a good time to enter the room, taking your seat next to the redhead. You peck her cheek delicately before diving into your leftovers from last nights Schemmenti family dinner.

“Jake’s coming over for dinner tonight, that okay?” Green eyes look into yours for any sort of hesitation from you.

“He knows he’s always welcome to come over.”

So that’s how you spend that night. You’re in the recliner reading your book while Jacob and Melissa veg out on the couch with their popcorn and sour cream and onion flavoring. They each have a glass of wine, and they’re deep into conversation about who is slighting who and why. It makes you chuckle as you half listen to their conversation, half read about the drama that is happening in your book.

“What are you reading?” Jacob asks. Only then do you look up from your book and realize that your girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.

You show him the cover before asking, “Where’d Mel go?”

“Bathroom,” he tells you. “Then we’re going to watch a movie since our show is over… she thought it might be a nice way to wind down, and who am I to deny that?”

“You’re such a good son to her, you know,” you say casually as you return your attention back to your book. You flip the page.

Jacob is left searching for words. “She’s not my mother.”

“No, but you’re still the best son she has,” you shrug and reach over to pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He goes to say more, but Melissa returns, reaching for the blanket that is draped over the edge of the couch. She lays it across the two of them before reaching for the remote to turn on whatever movie the two of them will be watching. Jacob swears he sees a smirk dancing across your lips. And he’s right- you are smirking. Because now you know he’s thinking about what you said.

He supposes he sees it- the way that Melissa mothers him. If he’s being honest with himself, his own mother doesn’t even treat him like this anymore. It’s… nice to have someone care for him like that.

That night ends in Melissa sending Jacob off to his house with a Tupperware container full of Braciole and a “Text me when you’re home and safe in your apartment!”

As time goes on, your words linger in Jacob’s head. He’s like the son Melissa never had. And that is oddly okay with him- he like’s being the best son that your girlfriend has.

And when he and Ravi end with a messy breakup, your girlfriend is the first person he calls. He doesn’t call Janine, he doesn’t call Gregory, he doesn’t even call his own mother. No. The first person that crosses his mind as he leaves Ravi’s apartment for the last time is Melissa.

It’s late, and logically he knows that she probably isn’t awake and hasn’t been for hours. But he wants some maternal love and dials anyway.

You and your girlfriend are curled up in bed- her asleep, and you on the verge of sleep- when her phone rings to life.

“Who the fuck is calling at…” she blinks her eyes awake and glances at the clock. “1:30 in the morning?”

“Just let it go,” you sigh softly.

She reaches for her phone, and when you expect her to set it back down and pull you into her arms again, she doesn’t. Instead, her voice sounds concerned.

“Jacob?” is the only thing that she says into the phone.

You can hear his labored breaths. He doesn’t speak.

“Jake,” your girlfriend sighs. “Jacob, what’s going on? It’s 1:30 in the morning.”

“I- I know,” he chokes out. “But I- Ravi and I just broke up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Oh,” Melissa’s face absolutely drops. She knows how much the social studies teacher liked the firefighter.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says pathetically into the phone. “I- I don’t even know why I called. Get back to-”

The redhead clears her throat, trying to get any of the remaining sleep out of her voice before she speaks again. “We’re still up. Come over.”

“It’s okay,” the distraught man sighs into the phone. “I can just…”

“Jacob, your ass better be here within the next thirty minutes,” Melissa tells him sternly. “You called me, you clearly don’t want to be alone, we were already up, so just come over.”

And that’s how you end up curled up next to your girlfriend, a glass of white wine in hand while Melissa sits in her spot, two glasses of red wine poured out for when her work son arrives.

“Babe, when he gets here though-”

“When he gets here, I’m moving to my recliner so you can mother him,” you roll your eyes as you yawn. “I don’t even know why I have to be here when he comes in.”

“Because I told him we were both up, and I don’t want him to think that we got out of bed for him,” Melissa tells you.

You smile at her softly as you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re a good mother to him.”

“He’s not my son,” she chuckles.

“No, I know,” you sigh. “But he might as well be at this point. He called you, not his own mother.”

That thought makes her quirk her head to the side, thinking on this sentiment. She doesn’t have much time though, because Jacob is at the door knocking softly. You pick your head up and stand with her. While Melissa makes her way to the door, you take up the space in your recliner and curl up under the blanket, immediately reaching for the television remote.

You hear his sniffles as he comes in. He kicks off his shoes, and your girlfriend ushers him to the couch. She hands him the wine and wraps her arms around him. All Jacob can do is cry.

The redhead hushes her coworker gently, promising him that everything will be okay. And Jacob believes that- because if Melissa is saying it, it has to be true.

That night ends with him falling asleep on your girlfriend’s shoulder, and Melissa lays him down on the couch when the two of you finally decide to retire back to bed. She pulls the afghan from the back of the couch and gently drapes it over his body before running the tip of her index finger over his cheek.

“You’ll be alright, hun,” she whispers to him. Then she turns back to you and takes your hand.

As the two of you are curling up in bed for the second time that night, you hum, “You really would make a wonderful mother.”

When the time comes that you finally (according to Jacob and Janine) think about getting engaged and married to Melissa, Jacob could not want to be in on it more. He helps you find the perfect ring, he helps you plan it all, and he even insists on hiding out in the shadows in order to capture the event.

“Trying to make your mom happy?” you tease him.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. “She’s not my mother, but… Melissa being happy is all all of us want.”

When you do end up proposing to her, you expect Barbara to be the first person that your girlfriend flies into the arms of. Instead, it’s Jacob. Barbara, of course, is second. But Jacob seems absolutely ecstatic, telling the redhead that he helped with almost every aspect of the proposal. Melissa tells him that she couldn’t have wished for it to be anything else, and that she was very proud of him. Jacob blushes profusely, and it reminds all three of you just how close your Abbott family really is.

As wedding plans come along, Jacob is there for all of it. It’s a sweet thing. He looks like a kid in the candy store as Melissa, Barbara, and he look for the perfect outfit to get married in. Barbara is of course Melissa’s matron of honor, and Jacob is just happy to be there. He has no idea that at this appointment, Melissa is also going to be having him try on suits to match the bridal party.

“So,” Jacob leans forward with excitement. “What colors are you planning on doing for the bridal parties?!”

“Y/N and I decided that a nice salmony pink color might be good,” Melissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “So… you better start looking at ties and suits, mister.”

Barbara, who knew that her best friend was going to reveal this bit of information, grins. Meanwhile, Jacob’s jaw absolutely drops. He’s astounded.

“What? Why would I have to find a tie for-”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have you in my wedding party?” the redhead rolls her eyes as she opens up her arms. “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get as of right now. Of course you’re in the wedding.”

Tears begin to pour over the younger man’s face as he fully tackles his work mother in a hug. “Oh my god.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles through his tears. “I just thought that I was here to-”

“To help me pick out my outfit, but also to help figure out the perfect color that you’ll be wearing and to get fitted for a suit, if you want,” Melissa tells him.

Barbara passes out three glasses of champagne in celebration.

When your wedding day finally comes, you’re standing up at the altar in your own suit as you await the moment that Melissa will be walked down the aisle by none other than Mr. Johnson (he was elated when your fiancee explained to him that he was something of a father figure to him).

The ceremony is beautiful- perfect even. Everybody laughs, everybody sheds tears, everybody is just thrilled at the fact that the two of you are tying the knot.

The reception is a thrill. Both you and Melissa make small toasts, a few others speak, and then it’s time for dancing.

You have your first dance with your wife (good God, you can call her your wife now!), she dances with Mr. Johnson, you dance with your own father, and then… Melissa makes her way up to the microphone.

“Hey youse guys,” Melissa chuckles nervously. “I know everyone else wants to get to dancing, but there is one more special person that I’d like to dance with… if he’ll make his way up.”

Nobody stands, but your wife’s green eyes are trained on Jacob.

“Me?” he gasps. At Melissa’s nod, he stands hesitantly before making his way over.

“Of course.” You see that those green eyes start to turn a little glassy, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “For those of you that don’t know… this is Jacob Hill- grade A pain in my ass turned something like a son to me.”

The two dance to a beautiful song written by Elton John, “Chosen Family”. By the end of it, there are no dry eyes in the audience. It’s a song that feels like it was written for them.

And then the night is off, everyone is dancing, and you’re just relishing in this beautiful moment that you have in your hands.

Jacob is dancing near the two of you when you decide to make your way over.

“Hey,” you check him with your hip gently. “Welcome to the family.”

The man smiles at you from ear to ear.

“You’re such a good son to her,” you compliment softly as you envelope him in a hug.

He just chuckles in your ear. “I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.” Then his jaw drops. “Oh my god. Does this mean you’re like a weird sort of step-mom to me now?!”

As time goes on, you and your wife decide to try to expand the family. And somehow, by some grace of God (Melissa would tell you that it’s because Barbara prayed over you two night after night), you end up pregnant after the first treatment.

If you thought Jacob was a part of your household before, he’s only over more now. He’s constantly bringing over baby clothes and toys, helping Melissa to assemble the crib and the rocking chair as well as installing carseats into both of your cars, he’s bringing over remedies to help you with morning sickness and then creams and other things to help you feel the most comfortable that you can be during this pregnancy.

When you go into labor, he’s the first one Melissa calls, and then she calls Barbara.

You deliver a son, a beautiful baby boy. He’s perfect. And he has an even more perfect name.

“Go get Jake,” you tell your wife gently as you continue to cradle your son to your chest. “He deserves to meet his godson, and lord knows that boy has been sitting in the waiting room since he got your call.”

Melissa just chuckles as she stands from her place on your bed, kisses you softly, strokes the boy’s cheek, and then heads out.

She brings back both Barbara and Jacob, who immediately squeal upon seeing you as a mother for the first time. While Jacob fully thinks that you’ll hand the baby to your wife’s work-wife first, you actually hand the baby to him. He looks at this baby like he’s never seen anything more perfect.

“Do we have a name?” Barbara asks.

You smile at the man holding your newborn. “We do.”

“And it is?” Barbara prompts.

“Mel, do you want to tell him what his godson’s name is?” you prompt.

Jacob’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “G-godson?”

“Godson,” you confirm, tears in your own eyes. You wipe at them gently as you lay back in the hospital bed.

“His name is,” Melissa chuckles through tears of her own as she makes her way over to the pair. “Milo Jacob Schemmenti… Milo meaning beloved, and Jacob, after you.”

“After… after me?” Jacob’s voice goes high as his eyes fill with even more tears. He holds the baby even closer to him, if that’s possible.

“Of course,” your wife smiles as she wraps a proud arm around him. “And if Milo turns out half as good as my first son, that kid is going to be set for life.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #jacob hill

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rebouks · 11 days

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The first day of the new school year began much the same as any other; being accosted by the hallway monitor for dawdling, having inappropriate footwear and daring to possess yet another pair of headphones, only for them to remember who he was and abandon any hopes of receiving an explanation, or an excuse.

Robin thought he would’ve outgrown his selective mutism by now, but apparently, it didn’t work like that. He’d eventually seen a therapist a few years prior, but the poor man didn’t exactly have a handbook for “strange child who can’t speak sometimes due to other people’s overwhelming head voices but won’t/can’t explain himself to anyone other than a ghost who’s stuck in his attic” so, it’d fallen a little flat. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself; but the older he got, the more he started to think he’d been using his gift as a convenient excuse for some of his issues. Maybe. Possibly.

Much less bombarded than when he was little, Robin could usually tune out the everyday chatter within surrounding minds, though he rarely did. He’d become far too accustomed to being nosy, and at this point it was weirder NOT to hear everyone else’s thoughts. It produced an intense itchy feeling that was almost impossible to ignore, as though he’d miss something important the moment he stopped listening.

As a result, Robin struggled to live in the moment, and for himself; constantly juggling other people’s thoughts and emotions as well as his own. Sometimes he wondered if he’d understand his brain better if it belonged to someone else, like if he could observe it from a distance as with everyone else, it’d make more sense-.. or maybe paying more attention in Mr Fitzherbert’s biology classes would help. He supposed he was still overwhelmed after all, just better at hiding it.

Either way, he wasn’t about to admit to all this nonsense out loud, especially not if it landed him in Doctor Abbott’s office again. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to find out how weird he actually was, least of all a psychologist. Think of all the experiments they’d want to do, all the prodding and poking-.. or worse. Robin shuddered at the thought. No, thank you!

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rhettabbotts · 9 months

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dreaming of a white christmas - rhett abbott x reader

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

summary: in which christmas miracles still happen.

warnings: 18+ only. fluff. soft sex. oral (f receiving). christmas cheer. rhett’s the best husband. rhett walking around naked.

a/n: this is my submission for @lewmagoo’s christmas celebration! i’m so sorry it’s late my love but i hope you enjoy this little fic! and happy holidays to everyone! i hope it’s a good one 🩵.

“We’re looking at a warm and sunny Christmas day. No signs of accumulation over the next week.”

Weatherman Todd Carter crushed all of your dreams in one sentence. Every year since you could remember, there had been inches upon inches of snow throughout the month of December. This year was a little disappointing, but you had been holding out hope for Christmas.

That was your favorite thing about this time of year. The white snow covering the mountains like a blanket. The serene and beautiful landscape always made you feel like a child again.

The early mornings, bundled up from head to toe in snow gear heading out to feed the animals. The anticipation of Santa coming to visit as you baked cookies with your mother. It all reminded you of a happier time. And now thanks to Todd, you weren’t going to have that feeling this year.

Rhett came in that evening and could tell you were upset. It was your second Christmas in your new home and the place was decorated from floor to ceiling. He always said it looked like an elf threw up. You thought it was just enough, but you kept adding more every time you came back from the store.

“Hey, honey,” Rhett greeted you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek. “What’s the frown for?”

“Stupid Todd,” you mumbled as you stirred the cake batter for the chocolate cake you were baking.

“Todd? Who the hell-“

“The weatherman on Channel 7! He said there wasn’t gonna be any snow on Christmas!” You sounded like a spoiled child whining about not getting a toy. The corner of Rhett’s mouth quirked up. “It’s not funny. It’s depressing. We’ve always had a white Christmas.”

“Sweetheart, just because there’s not gonna be any snow doesn’t mean it’s going to be any less perfect. You’ll make sure of that,” Rhett swiped a finger in the cocoa mixture, licking it clean with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Good cake by the way.”

“It’ll be even better if you stop trying to give yourself salmonella,” you swatted at him to get out of the kitchen.

Rhett waltzed out of the kitchen with an extra swing in his step, his tight Wranglers leaving nothing to imagine. It was your favorite pair and he knew it. As he showered and cleaned up, you finished baking your cake. You even threw in a batch of cookies for the hell of it, trying to ignore Rhett’s voice saying in your head “stress baking.”

The holidays were such a wonderful time, but after you and Rhett had married it had become exhausting. Trying to find time for both families and leaving each place more overwhelmed than when you arrived was enough for you to decide to spend Christmas with each other this year.

The repeated questions of “when are you having kids? when are you going to move back to the ranch? why don’t you move closer to us?” wore you down to the point you nearly broke.

You wanted a family but children weren’t on the table at the moment. You and Rhett wanted to travel. See the world. Get out of the little small town you both grew up in.

A strong pair of arms wrapping around your middle snapped you from your thoughts, a scratchy jaw tickled your neck as feather light kisses were placed to your pulse point.

“I know that look. You’re thinkin’ too much again,” Rhett mumbled against your skin.

“Just thinking about you. About us,” you replied, swaying in his embrace.

“I can’t believe it’s our second Christmas. And it’s just us this year. Thank god,” Rhett muttered the last words. He couldn’t stand your aunt Susie. She was touchy.

Rhett continued placing soft kisses on your neck, causing you to moan quietly and lean your head back against his chest. You could feel him smirk. Smug bastard.

“You know… that fire I’ve got going looks real cozy…”

“What are you hinting at?”

“I’m saying I want to eat my wife out by the fire on Christmas Eve so she’ll stop pouting about no snow,” Rhett said bluntly, tightening his hold on you.

And he did just that. He laid out the softest blanket you had on the floor, laid you on your back and threw your legs over his shoulder. His tongue made slow figure eight movements from your clit to your pulsating entrance.

Your knuckles were white from the grip on his long locks, tugging harshly when his lips suctioned on your bud.

“Rhett- fuck- oh Go-God!” You stammered, hips bucking against his face.

He didn’t stop until your thighs were quaking and your juices covered his chin. He made a point to make dramatic slurping noises as he was pulling away.

“That’s it. I don’t need to open a single present tomorrow,” Rhett said as he placed his head on your lower stomach, kneading your thighs gently to stop them from shaking.

“Oh no. You’re opening those presents, mister. I have kept them a secret long enough.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Please fuck me now,” you pouted, practically pawing at him.

“Greedy little thing,” he teased.

So you made love all night by the fire, eventually falling asleep in your husband’s arms and dreaming of a snow white covered yard with two little girls running after Rhett.

The early morning sun shined brightly through the living room window, much brighter than it typically did. You blinked slowly, holding back a giggle at the sound of Rhett’s snoring. You knew he’d be complaining about his back later.

Wrapping an extra blanket around yourself, you made your way to the kitchen to start the coffee, not even bothering to look outside. You didn’t want to be disappointed.

As your cup finished brewing, you stood at the kitchen sink and nearly dropped the mug as you looked outside and saw nearly six inches of snow piled up out front.

You shrieked and caused Rhett to jump awake. He didn’t grab the blanket and stood in the middle of your living room stark naked.

“Where’s the fire?”

“THERE’S SNOW. A WHITE CHRISTMAS,” You exclaimed loudly, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and throwing the front door open. You were greeted with a bitter chill, one that went to the bone and brought a wide smile to your face.

It soon became too much and you hurried inside, Rhett still walking around without clothes on which didn’t surprise you.

“So Todd lied, huh?” Rhett joked as he sipped on your abandoned coffee.

“I could cry right now. A white Christmas. My favorite,” you whispered, grinning to yourself.

“Darlin’, I pray every Christmas will be white just so I can see this joy on your face every time,” Rhett said as he shimmied his way towards you.

“Go put some clothes on. I’ll start breakfast and then we’re doing presents.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rhett winked, yelping when you smack his ass as he walked away.

You spent the day with just the two of you, both laughing and crying at the different presents you got each other. You watched many Christmas movies while you snacked on the lunch you fixed and watched the snow as you drank hot cocoa. You saved White Christmas for last and you couldn’t stop yourself from shedding a tear as Bing Crosby crooned “may your days be merry and bright. and may all your Christmases be white.”

#a lew magoo christmas #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fluff #outer range #outer range fanfiction

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

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Waiting For The Sun

Chapter One

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

Soulmate AU Warnings: talks of religion

Series Masterlist

She’d been hearing the same voice in her head since she was fourteen years old. It had been jarring at first, hearing someone else's commentary from a rodeo she wasn't even attending. Whoever this person was had some really strong opinions about the bull riders they had been watching.

So jarring, in fact, that she went running to her mother, terrified. "Momma!" She cried as she ran down the stairs of the family farmhouse. "I'm hearin' voices!"

Her mother said nothing as she folded her newspaper and looked across the room, looked to her husband. Fourteen years old was too young to be hearing the voice of your soulmate, they both thought. But they couldn't have been much older when the writing first appeared on their own arms.

Her sister laughed. "That's your soulmate speaking to you, idiot," she said as she looked up from her book for just a moment. Normally, her mother would have scolded her for such language, but there were bigger fish to fry.

"My... what?" She asked, still standing on the bottom step of the stairs.

Her mother shuffled over, creating some space for her on the couch. She patted the space between herself and her eldest daughter, signalling for her youngest to come and sit between them. "Sweetie, it's time somebody told you about soulmates," she said gently.

As her youngest sat, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing the raised skin her of own soulmate mark. It used to be a tattoo, the first words her soulmate would ever say to her marked on her skin in black ink. The mark was supposed to remain there for the rest of her life, but tattoos were something she was against, something she and her husband saw as a sin. She had the tattoo removed, leaving raised skin as the only races of what was. "What did it say?" Her youngest daughter asked as she hesitantly lifted her fingers to trace over the raised skin.

She sucked in a breath and read out the passage from the bible that her husband had used to win her over. "'Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all'," she said and pulled her sleeve back down to cover up her past sins. "Those were the first words your father said to me, and that was how I knew he was my soulmate."

She looked across the room, at her husband. He was usually quiet, and this was no different. He said nothing as he watched them, so still his wife wondered if he was even listening.

"What has your soulmate said?" The eldest daughter asked. Her bookmark was in her book, which she placed down on the little round table beside the couch. "Has he at least said anything interesting?"

The youngest of the two shrugged her shoulders. "Nothin' too interestin' yet," she said and her mother gave her the side eye. She cleared her throat and tried again, this time pronouncing her G's. "I think he was at the rodeo," she mumbled and fiddled with her fingers. "Seemed to know a lot about bull ridin'."

Suddenly, her sister was sitting a little straighter. "A rodeo in Amelia County?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

Before the girls could continue with this conversation, their father cleared his throat, making his presence known. Well, his presence was always known in that house. "Time for bed, girls," he said in his usual gruff voice. "We've got church in the morning."

Both girls bowed their heads as they walked up the stairs and disappeared into their bedrooms.

***

That was ten years ago, the night her soulmate first spoke to her. She didn't speak back to him right away, didn't know how. As soon as her soulmate realised that someone else was there, trying to talk to him, he taught her how.

Neither of them had shut up since, it seemed.

Mornin', came the groggy voice of her soulmate.

The moment his voice filled her head, she couldn't help but smile. It had become a routine, waiting for him to wake up and then grinning when his voice filled her head. Morning, sleepyhead, she said, not looking up from her flowers. Are you aware that it's ten in the morning?

It is? Ah, shit.

Language, she scolded, but she knew he could hear her laugh. It was something he said every day, several times a day. Each time she scolded him, and each time he called her cute.

There was a break before he responded. She could see it in her mind, a faceless man rolling out of bed and pulling a shirt over his muscular chest. He'd place a Stetson on his head, a black on, pat his dog on the head, and go out to work on a ranch.

What is my Muffin doin' today? He asked as she used her trowel to dig a hole in her flower patch.

She looked up as her neighbour climbed out of his truck, where he'd undoubtedly slept. Rhett Abbott. There was a time, back when she was eighteen, that she thought Rhett was her soulmate. But those thoughts, that... hope, didn't last long. Not when she saw the way Rhett looked at Maria Olivares. There was no doubt in her mind that they, Rhett and Maria, were soulmates.

She didn't answer his question. What she was doing was boring and uninteresting. So, instead, she asked, Do you ever think about how it's been ten years and we haven't met yet? I mean, I don't even know if you're in-

But her soulmate didn't hear the rest of it, couldn't hear the rest of it. They'd figured out the rules quickly. they couldn't say names, places or any physical descriptions. Nothing that could aid them in finding each other. They'd meet when the universe was good and ready for it. That was God's plan, after all.

It wasn't the first time she'd said it to her soulmate. And, every time, he knew exactly what to say. Muffin, it's okay, he said to her. When we meet, I'll take you out for dinner. Breakfast for dinner, he promised.

She couldn't help but laugh. You always know just what to say, she said to him as she put her trowel down and pulled her gloves away from her fingers (it was so hot in Wyoming, she couldn't stand to wear her gardening gloves for very long. Not unless she wanted her hands to be all sweaty and pruney).

Go on, Muffin. Tell me what you're up to, he said, his voice sounding like a mumble in her head.

She held up the sunflower she had been growing for the last few weeks. Do you remember the sunflower growing competition I'm holding with the youth group? She asked and he let out a hum. Well, I'm planting my sunflower in my garden.

Holy fuck, he immediately said. You're so damn cute.

Language! But, again, she was laughing. But then the laughter stopped. Oh shoot! I got soil on my dress and now it's all dirty, she grumbled as she stood and brushed the dirty away from the blue skirt of her dress.

He let out another hum. Bet you still look great, he said in her mind.

It had been ten years. Ten year of them knowing each other without ever meeting. They'd learnt everything there was to know about each other, without knowing who the other was. And he knew exactly how to push her buttons, but in the best way. He knew exactly how to get her giggling like a school girl, not like the twenty four year old woman she was.

They talked through the morning, as they did every morning. When his employer had him counting cattle, she helped to keep track of the numbers. But then she was heading inside, grabbing the grocery list her mother had stuck on the fridge, grabbing her keys, and heading out.

You should get those cosmic brownie things you like, he said as she started her car.

It took a moment of turning the key before the engine came to life. Not on the list, she said as she began driving away from her family's property. You know how my mother gets.

I know, Muffin, he replied as she drove up the rode, drove past the Abbott Ranch. And there was Rhett Abbott, riding on his usual black horse. She gave him the polite smile and he tipped his hat, a sign of two acquaintances that barely knew each other.

As soon as Rhett had ridden off, her soulmate was back in her head. But you deserve a treat!

She let out a hum of her own, a habit she had picked up from him. I'm gonna make muffins for bible study later, she said as she drove into town.

Flavour? He asked as she pulled up outside of The Handsome Gambler. She'd never stepped a foot inside, might have been one of the only people in Wabang that hadn't .

A smile played on her lips as she walked into the store, reusable bag stuffed into the tote bag on her shoulder. Walking around the store, she had never felt so naked. All because of some damned stain left by soil. Muffin? You still there? He asked.

Shit, sorry.

That's my girl.

There was no point in trying to hide her smile. Blueberry, he said, answering his question from earlier.

Having her soulmate in her head while she was grocery shopping wasn't easy, not in the slightest. He threw out suggestions that had her damn near reaching for the stuff. Stuff that wasn't on her mothers list, stuff that would have had her mother angry.

Twenty Four year old and still scared of her parents. It was pathetic.

Not pathetic, Muffin. I don't wanna be hearin' that shit.

She couldn't help but apologise, even if he wouldn't hear it. How many times had he said 'my Muffin don't apologise for nothin'' over the years? When she wandered over to the checkout, he was quiet, let her count the cash in her purse. And then, as she loaded the groceries into the car, he was humming. It was a song she didn't recognise from the tune alone. But it was sweet and it was comforting.

It was him.

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee

Rhett Abbott Taglist (OPEN): @writtingrose

WFTS Taglist (OPEN): @finnydraws (you don't get a choice)

@nurse-sainz (you don't get a choice)

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott oneshot #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range x reader #outer range fanfiction #soulmate au #lewis pullman #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Human Illustrator Wally x Reader

Yippee! Fluffy AU!

TW: None owo

🐻You work at a daycare as a child care worker. The daycare you work at, which is called Apple Castle Learning Center, has a reputation for taking in children with disabilities and being very accessible to them. Due to it being very difficult for a lot of parents to find daycares that have room for disabled children, the majority of the kids that go to Apple Castle Learning Center have some form of disability. Despite the amount of people who use the daycare, however, there is still a pretty low budget. As a recreational assistant at the daycare, you have to find a good way to entertain all of these lovely children in a way that is accessible to as many of them as possible.

🐻 The best thing you have found, so far, is storytime! You have all the kids gather in a circle as you read to them. To make sure that no child is left out, you make sure to show everyone a close up view of the pages so the hard of hearing children can see the pictures and pass around some toy so that the children with visibility issues can have a reference as to the visuals. Is there a cute bear on the page? Hand them a teddy bear! Is there a caterpillar that runs a store? Pass around a caterpillar toy! It may not be much, but it is the best thing you can do for such a wide array of children and such a low budget. You also make sure to give verbal descriptions of the visuals, both to keep the visually impaired children included and to teach the children new words.

🐻 The majority of the children's most favorite books seem to be one's illustrated by some man named Wally Darling. You aren't that well in the loop on who is famous in the illustration industry, but your boss, Mr. Abbott, keeps telling you that he is pretty famous. Apparently, a lot of children love his illustrations, and he has a pretty wide array of styles. Some of his books look like the pictures were drawn by children, themselves, with cute smiley faces and puppy dogs. Others will have very detailed pictures of animals. He tends to illustrate for books aimed at children in preschool all through elementary.

🐻 So when you learn that Mr. Darling is going to be visiting a library in town, you just have to go. He's, apparently, going to be signing books and everything! You feel like, since the kids love his books so much, getting one of the books signed will make them very happy. Some of the children have been expressing, recently, that they can tell that they are different than other kids and it makes them feel bad. Especially the ones who go to school. It might help them feel a bit better if the kids know that he cares for them! After all, he seems like a very loving guy, from what Mr. Abbott has said... Though, you haven't met the guy yourself, so you just have to hope.

🐻 Once the day arrives, you make sure to try to get there early. Thankfully, Mr. Abbott understood what you were trying to do and let you take the day off to get there quickly. Even though you arrived about an hour early, it is still very crowded with parents and their children who are waiting to see him arrive.

🐻 A few people recognize you and your uniform, just a little pin with the daycare logo and a small apron where you hold crayons, and talk to you until he arrives. To your shock, when you see his car pull in, it's not that fancy looking. It looks like any old car on the street. If it weren't for children screaming in excitement at his arrival, you wouldn't have noticed.

🐻 Then comes the stampede of little kids sprinting to see him, followed by their parents running to grab them, shouting "Timmy, calm down!" "Don't rush!" "Say you're sorry, you know it is wrong to push people!" You are frozen still from surprise. You never would've expected little kids to be this excited about some random guy who draws pictures. Well, not some RANDOM guy... it's just kinda like... they have never seen him, before? Just his pictures. Most of the books the daycare owns don't even have a picture of him in the back of the book.

🐻 You see him come out of the car, a small child that had managed to avoid the hands of his parents hanging from his arm like it is a branch. You would expect him to be upset that some random kid just grabbed him, but no. He has a large grin on his face, as if it was the best thing that could've happened today. He then holds the child, handing him to his parents as he says "I am so happy you all came early! Please, settle down, though! This is a library, after all!" He then chuckles, watching as all the children turn to each other, placing their fingers on their lips as they let out loud "SHHHHHHHHH"'s.

🐻 It takes a while for him to get everything set up, but it is amazing to watch. You feel very weird just watching him from time to time, burying your face in a book to try to hide it. He's just so... weird? Like, not "weird" as in bad, but "weird" as in enjoyably eccentric. You can't take your eyes off of him. If he were on a children's show as a host, you could see it making millions. He also isn't that bad looking, either. He's kinda cute-

🐻"Do you need something?" Your face lights up when he says that, realizing that he has noticed you. You point to yourself, just to be sure. He grins, pointing at you as he says "Of course, you. I noticed you staring quite a while ago. I don't mind, I know I sound strange."

🐻 You panic, standing up and walking over to him as you clarify "No! No, it isn't that! I work with a lot of kids who have a flat affect in their voice. I don't find it weird at all! I just umm... I thought you might need help! You seem to be setting a lot up!"

🐻 His eyes widen, before he smiles "Oh, you didn't mean- Wait, really? You work with kids that sound like me? Where do you work?" You point to your pin "I work at the Apple Castle Learning Center. It's a daycare, with a lot of the kids there having varying levels of disability. From physical disabilities, like a missing limb, blindness, or deafness, to more neurological ones like autism, down syndrome or ADHD. I actually came here to get a book signed for the daycare. I thought that-"

🐻 His face lights up, looking at the book in your hands. He quickly snatches it, causing you to let out a slight gasp from shock. He looks around, almost like he is trying to hide something, before quickly signing it. He then takes out a small slip of paper, writing something on it and slipping it into the book. He hands it back to you, whispering "Here. You get to have a signature early. I always like to show support for places willing to care for kids, no matter the differences they have. I know that if I made you wait for the line, you would be lost and waiting for hours. Now, go on! Show those kids the book! I want you to see how happy you made them from going out of your way to get a signature from me!"

🐻 You can practically feel yourself tearing up from joy! You shake his hand, saying "Thank you so much! You are so kind! I'll be sure to let them know what you said, too!" You then sprint out to your car, making sure to be quick to get to the daycare as fast as possible.

🐻 As you sit in the driver's seat, catching your breath, before opening up the book to look at the signature. In your joy, you forgot that he slipped a paper in there, as it drops to the floor. Picking it up, to your surprise, you see a phone number. There is a little note on the side, saying "Call me! I'd be happy to visit the daycare!" with a little, smiling winky face drawn next to it.

🐻 You feel your face grow red, again. He gave you his number? Yes, it is probably just to visit the daycare, but it is still shocking, nontheless. You like, JUST met him, after all. You smile, putting the paper in your pocket, as you head over to the daycare.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 6 months

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hi hi hi!! I love your fics so much and i don't know if you're still taking requests but if you are could you write a Melissa x reader where the reader is madly in love with Melissa and everyone kind of knows except for Mel. And when Mel starts flirting with Gary reader starts going on random dates to try and get over Mel, but Mel gets jealous and hates every person that reader tries to date. And their friendship gets all angsty but they of course end up happily together and everyone at Abbott is like "finally took you two long enough"

I feel like saying this has taken forever isn't actually an exaggeration - but better late than never! I hope after all this time that this is at least close to what you were looking for. I admit though, I got a bit indecisive with the ending, so there are actually two and you can pick which you prefer.!

Melissa and Gary are a thing, and you hate it. Worse, you hate that you hate it. You want to be happy for her, you really do, but you can’t help the way your heart clenches painfully every time you hear her talk about what she and Gary are doing together, or apparently the nausea that comes with seeing them together.

Still, you weren’t raised without manners and in love with your friend though you may be, you are Melissa’s friend first and foremost. So you slap on a smile and endure the looks of sympathy from your colleagues.

When you start to distance yourself it’s not because you don’t want to spend time with the redhead, but as an act of self-preservation. Your little Abbott family, who were annoyingly quick to pick up on the fact you were in love with the red head, are also quick to pick up on the shift.

Barb is the first to say something out loud, offering to set you up with a nice girl she knows. It’s unexpected and takes you by surprise. “Thanks, Barb. It’s really sweet of you but I’m not looking for anything serious just now.”

You miss the daggers being aimed at the kindergarten teacher behind your head and in making a break for the coffee machine you also miss the older woman’s raised eyebrow in response to a certain red head.

“So, how many matches did we get?” asks Jacob like it’s some kind of team game, as he comes into the break room to find you on your phone.

It had been games night the night before, but the board game had ended up set aside and Jacob and Janine got you set up on Tinder. Melissa suddenly becomes very interested in your phone screen over your shoulder.

“You really think you need an app to get a date?”

“Well we can’t all have our other halves roll in with our favourite drinks, can we?” you quip, ignoring her jibe. You keep your eyes on your phone, all too aware of the silence that has fallen over the breakroom at your comment.

You jump as Melissa suddenly leans over your shoulder, swiping at your screen.

“She’s too old for you.”

You turn to look at the red head with a raised eyebrow. “Actually, I set the age range myself, so she’d have been just the right age.”

She huffs and you turn back to your phone, and if you swipe with a little more vigour than before, well, it’s certainly not to prove a point.

You manage to set up a couple of dates via the app, but they’re terrible. What you hoped could be a chance to blow of a little steam ends of being up being a few awkward drinks with people who are more interested in their image and talking about themselves than anything else.

Not that you tell that to Melissa. No, as far as she’s aware the string of dates you’ve on have been great.

“Yeah, that’s why you keep going on new ones,” she quips one day.

“I didn’t say I planned on marrying these people,” you huff. “But it’s not illegal to want a little fun!”

Melissa snorts. “You’re not that shallow,” she smirks as she passes you on her way out of the room.

You lay your head on the table, groaning.

“Those dates that bad, huh?”

Your head flies up at the words, eyes wide as you take in Ava pouring a liberal amount of sugar into her coffee. Had she been there the whole time? “They’ve not been great,” you admit. “I don’t tend to well on dates when I’ve never really met the person, never mind barely messaged them,” you admit.

Ava cocks her head to the side. “You let Tweedledumb and Tweedleditzy set up that account, didn’t you?”

You nod, not quite sure where she’s going with this.

“Yeah, you ain’t gonna get dates who just want to do the dirty and not expect breakfast in the morning with something they set up.” She slides into the seat opposite you and holds out her hand. “I can fix that. Gimme your phone.”

She rolls her eyes as you flinch back. “You know what? Forget that stupid app. I’ll get you a date. You’ll love this one. Trust me.”

You’re not entirely convinced you do as she waggles her eyebrows playfully at you, but surely anything has to be better than the dates you’ve recently been on?

You walk in to the bar and for a moment you think that Ava has somehow set you up with Melissa. The red hair catches you attention first, the feminine curves a quick second, but then you realise the hair is not quite the right colour, the curves less pronounced. The description of the outfit matches though so after taking a moment to compose yourself, you make your way over and say hi.

Blue eyes meet yours as she stands and the woman takes a moment to look you up and down as you squirm under the attention. How people can do anything other than blush and stutter under the scrutiny of a beautiful woman you’re not sure. One thing you do know though, is that this woman is indeed beautiful.

“Ava said you might be a little nervous, so got you a drink.”

You thank her, taking a sip only to realise that Ava must have also told the woman what you drank. Your second sip turns more into a gulp as you proceed to down the drink. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Could at least have asked your name before I downed the drink you bought me.”

She smiles at your embarrassment, extending a hand. “Joanne,” she offers. “Jo, if I decide I like you.”

“Here’s hoping,” you smile back, shaking the offered hand.

It’s going well, you realise. The conversation is flowing between you and can’t deny she’s attractive. She seems to like what she sees too if her flirting and casual touches are anything to go by. There’s just one problem. There’s another red head on your mind and you can’t help but compare the two.

Joanne seems to feel your hesitancy. “It’s fine,” she says, her smile turning gentle as she places a hand on your arm. “Ava suggested you might be a little emotionally unavailable, but it’s been a while since I had a date with a cute girl, so I figured what’s the harm?”

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head.

“Don’t be,” smiles the red head. “Look, we’re here, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“You don’t deserve that,” you say, shaking your head.

Joanne merely smirks. “You’re buying the drinks.”

There’s something about her easy manner that puts you at ease. You look up at her, waiting patiently for you to speak. Ava had clearly told her more than your favourite tipple.

“What’s her name?” she asks.

You feel your cheeks heat up. Here you are, sitting on a date with a beautiful, interesting, apparently endlessly patient woman, and she’s asking about her. “Melissa,” you say in all but a whisper.

“Let me guess,” smirks the other woman. “Red head, my kinda age?”

Your blush only deepens.

Joanne chuckles. “Ava ain’t subtle, honey. But you know you gotta move on before your little heart breaks even more.”

The hand that had been resting on your arm moves to cup your cheek as she leans in to kiss you. It’s nice. It’s really nice. And for a moment, you find you’re not thinking about Melissa.

“Well fuck,” sighs Melissa, halting in her steps. She stands, unable to look away as she sees you in the bar, clearly on a date. For a moment, she’s not sure what to do. She had been on her way to your apartment, but she can hardly interrupt your night now. “What a shitty end to a shitty night,” she breathes, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets as she turns on her heel and heads home, her steps much less determined than they had been.

When Monday rolls around you’re in a better mood than you’ve been in a while. To your surprise, you actually enjoyed Ava’s date. She was good company, and after you were honest with her, it turned out she was also rather good at giving advice. The advice being that you should be the friend you’ve always been to Melissa, after all, it’s not the red head’s fault you fell in love with her. The kissing and light making out was just a bonus, really. A little fun never hurt, after all.

Melissa, however, isn’t quite so bright come Monday. She’s quiet, distracted and when you finally ask what’s wrong at lunch, she just shakes her head and leaves the room. You look to Barb, hoping she’ll take pity and at least cast a little light on the situation.

“She and Gary broke up,” she tells you quietly, her voice low to keep the other’s from hearing.

“Oh,” you breathe. You’re not quite sure what to say to that.

At the end of the day, you look up from your tidying to find Melissa loitering in your doorway. “Hey,” you say by way of greeting. “Barb told me,” you tell her, offering a sad smile. “Sorry to hear.”

She shrugs. “I think I knew it was coming…just, didn’t expect it to happen the way it did.”

You watch as she comes to sit on the edge of your desk. “Saw you out on your date on Saturday. Was actually on my way to yours.”

“Oh,” you say, your cheeks heating up. “Yeah, Ava set me up. She was great but we’re not taking it any further. Or at least, it’s nothing serious.”

“But you looked like you were having a good time, and she…”

You shake your head. “I was…it was…Gary’s an ass by the way, for leaving you,” is what finally comes out.

“Actually, Gary isn’t an ass” she sighs. “Gary called it quits because he asked me if I’d ever say yes if he asked me the question…and I told him I couldn’t.” She drops her gaze, hanging her head. “He knew it wasn’t just my past that meant I couldn’t say yes. He knew my heart wasn’t in it…”

You start putting two and two together and getting dangerously close to four. Gary broke up with Melissa because she wouldn’t say yes to that question. Because her heart wasn’t in it.

“Why did Ava set you up with that woman?” asks Melissa, still not looking up.

Unable to properly see her face, hidden as it is by her hair, you can’t read her expression as you’d like to. Your next words feel important thought. “Ava knows my type.”

Melissa nods, her eyes still on the floor. “Why ain’t you gonna see that woman again?” This time she does look up. “You looked like you were actually enjoying yourself.”

“I was,” you admit. There’s no point lying. She saw you, probably smiling and laughing. “Ava set me up with her because she knew I’d find her attractive. But she also told her I might be a bit hung up on someone else, so that night, when you saw me with her, I was probably talking about you.”

“You were talking about me, with her, while she was kissing you?”

That comment lets you place when Melissa would have walked by. You nod. “When you saw me, that was probably right around the time she told me I should think about moving on if I didn’t want to break my own heart even more.”

Melissa stands and is in front of you before either of you can think. She looks at you for what feels like forever, green eyes searching your face, for what you don’t know. She reaches up to touch your face and you close your eyes on instinct, gasping at the featherlight touch of her lips against yours. Covering the hand on your face with your own, you open your eyes as she pulls back. “I can’t do this if your heart’s not in it.”

“What if it is?”

* Ava

“Well I was gonna ask how you enjoyed my date but I guess I got my answer.”

The pair of you jump at the sound of Ava’s voice.

“About damn time you two got your shit together. If I’d knows all it would take to get you with this spicy white was to put another firecracker in front of you I’d have done it months ago!” She claps her hands excitedly. “Oh this is too good to keep!” She disappears from the doorway, only for her head to pop back around a moment later. “Just no funny business in front of the kids. But what happens in the supply closet stays in the supply closet,” she grins, waggling her eyebrows at the pair of you. With that, she leaves you, the sound of her heels echoing along the hallway.

“Ava!” scolds Melissa, thinking she’s going to have to take disinfectant wipes the next time she ventures into the supply closet. With Ava, there’s no guessing what level of depravity the room has been subjected to.

You know your cheeks are beet red, and you hide your face against Melissa’s shoulder.

“This isn’t exactly how I saw this going,” admits the red head.

Raising your head, you look up at her with hopeful eyes. “But you saw it going somewhere?”

She shrugs. “You seem keen on going on all these dates, how about one with me?”

Biting your lip, you take a moment to just look at her; the slightly shy expression, the twinkle in her eye. Nodding, you lean in to kiss her once more.

“You know I almost didn’t believe her.”

You pull apart to see Barb in the doorway.

Melissa rolls her eyes. “Anyone else wanna come and watch?”

A moment later Janine’s head appears around the doorframe, Jacob close behind.

“Seriously?” snaps the red head, hands on her hips.

Ava returns, a wide grin plastered on her face. “They wanted to come and confirm before I collected my winnings.”

“Winnings?” asks Melissa, eyebrow raised and tone bordering on dangerous.

“Hand it over people,” smirks Ava, hand extended.

“Oh hell no!” The red head snaps into action, heading for the group. “You did not bet on me!” She snatches the notes from Ava’s outstretched hand. “You bet on my happiness I’m sure you won’t mind if this goes towards it! Y/N? Let’s go!”

You look at the hand being held out towards you and are quick to hoist your bag onto your shoulder and follow her. You duck your head and blush under everyone’s gaze but can’t help but grin as your hand settles in her own.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” calls Ava.

The group watches you both go, Melissa rolling her eyes at the hollering they let out as she puts a possessive arm around your waist.

* Barb *

If Barb notices that Melissa is unusually reserved as they order their drinks she says nothing of it. Truth be told, she had only suggested the meal to make sure Melissa wasn’t left sitting in the house on her own on a Friday night, or worse, going out to the bars on her own in search of some company for the night.

“There’s something I gotta tell you,” says the red head, setting down the menu wasn’t even reading.

“You’re not getting back together with him, are you?” asks the Kindergarten teacher.

“What? No! No, I…that’s over and it’s for the best,” replies Melissa. “No, the night Gary broke up with me, I ended up going for a walk to clear my head and ended up heading to Y/N’s apartment, except I didn’t quite make it there,” she admits. “I saw her out on that date Ava set her up on.” She sighs, wishing she had waited for their drinks to have arrived. “And it made me feel…”

“Jealous?” Barb ventures.

Melissa looks up, meeting her friend’s eyes. “I guess that covers it, yeah.” Taking a deep breath, she pushes on. “Anyway, I spoke to her on Monday about it…and I might have kissed her.” Admission made, she looks away, pleased to see the waiter arriving with their drinks. She doesn’t even let him put it on the table before she takes it and raises it to her lips. It’s only when she finally sets her cocktail glass down, half empty, that she dares to look at her friend once more.

What she sees is a gentle smile.

“Took you long enough.”

“What?” she asks, a frown creasing her features.

“You have liked that girl since before Gary was even on the scene,” says Barb.

Melisa’s frown only deepens. “Then why did you push me, literally may I add, in his direction?”

At this, Barb’s smile falters. “I hoped it might make you realise how you felt about her.”

The red head lets out a huff, reaching for her glass once more. “Well that went well, didn’t it?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment”, admits the older woman. “But maybe it’s all finally working out in the end?”

Melissa fidgets with her straw. “So you don’t think she’s too young? Too…”

Reaching out, Barb places a gentle hand on her friend’s arm. “I think she’s in love with you, and I think you like her, a lot.”

Cheeks pinking, Melissa puts down her glass. “I do. A lot. A helluva lot.”

Knowing it says something in itself the fact the red head isn’t making a joke, but rather admitting how she feels, Barb knows this is the real deal. She knows if this goes South that hearts will be well and truly broken, but she’s seen the two of you together. You work well together. There’s a quiet in you that balances out the boisterousness of Melissa. A steadiness that although she won’t admit it, the red head craves.

“I think you could be good for each other,” she says softly. “And no, I don’t think she’s too anything.”

#melissa x reader #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader

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delopsia · 2 months

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ride the lightning | rhett abbott x reader

Word Count: 7,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, slice of life, Rhett's shoulder injury, showering together, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, food, absolutely zero plot to this one. Brief Summary: What's more fun than a post-rodeo party? Running off and having your own personal rodeo right before the storm hits.

"You've got to quit eyeing those cowboys," Autumn's already chiding you, her words distorted by the glass resting against her bottom lip.

Hesitant, your gaze drifts back to her. Weren't quite done scanning the room, but if you don't stop now, then you'll lose the luxury of feigning stupidity. "What do you mean?"

"You're not slick!" She pauses, taking a sip of the liquid gold that fills her cup, the taste so bitter that her nose wrinkles. "I see you looking over there."

"Because I'm looking for someone," you chirp, your nail tapping against the table as you begin to look around again.

There was no way that wasn't his truck out in the parking lot. You'd know that aftermarket lightbar anywhere. But you don't see him. Not by the jukebox or the pool table. Hell, he's not even with his buddy Archie over there beside the empty water trough.

"It's that bull rider from the rodeo, ain't it." Autumn's hit the nail on the head, and she knows it. Swirling the ice in her glass, grin growing wider with every second that passes. "You sure have a type."

It's not as if you could ever defend yourself from that accusation, but you're leaning forward, voice low as you whisper. "Yeah, like you don't have a thing for blue-eyed blondes."

"Blue-eyed blondes with money." She tips her glass at you as if to further her correction. It's not until after she's downed another greedy gulp of beer that she opens her mouth again. "At least we have the eye thing in common."

All the men in the world, and here you two have picked men that happen to be neighbors. Arch enemies at that. Classic, century-old feud stuff. At this point, they don't hate each other for a reason; they do it for tradition.

You reckon a family hobby would be healthier, but that's not your dog, and it's certainly not your fight.

...not yet, at least.

"At what point are we obligated to hate each other?" Dipping a finger into your drink as you speak, mindlessly swirling the ice until it forms its own little whirlpool. It's pretty to look at. Blue in color, with a little cherry and framed in a dainty glass, but whoever mixed this gave you all tequila and no juice.

She hums, looking at something behind your head. "Whenever someone coughs up a half-mil."

Your finger stops, feeling the alcohol keep spinning past your finger. The cherry stem scrapes your skin. "Our friendship is only worth half a million to you?"

"No," her eyes finally dart back to you, glinting in the light, "but that's how much is in Luke's checking account."

You don't even want to know how or why someone would have that much money ready to spend at a moment's notice. Or, better yet, where the hell that money came from.

Whatever is behind you, Autumn seems pretty interested in it, and you've got a good enough guess that it's the face of a man you're not interested in seeing. If you make eye contact, he'll take that as an invitation.

Music sparks to life, blaring from a pair of cheap speakers somewhere on your left. You vaguely recognize the start of the song, but you're too busy scanning the crowd to pay attention to the lyrics. There are so many cowboy hats that you can't even cling to your usual method of finding him. Fuck, and hardly anyone has taken off their rodeo chaps. How are you supposed to—

There he is, beside the coolers. Red solo cup in hand, full of what you can only assume is more cheap beer.

He's already looking at you, the corner of his lip lifting as you meet his gaze.

"Speaking of," Autumn's already beginning to get up, the plastic table jolting as her hip bumps into it. "I just found who I was looking for."

"Have fun," pausing to glance at who she's so focused on. You're not sure why you expected it to be anyone other than Luke. "Try not to show up on the Abbott ranch with another hangover."

"No promises!" And just like that, she's left you.

If history is anything to go off of, she'll charm him into driving her around in one of those fancy sports cars again. You've got a feeling that she's gonna be up in Jackson before sunrise, nestled in a fancy hotel for the weekend.

"'s this seat taken?"

You recognize that voice.

You've got to tilt your head to see him. Towering over you like some kind of giant, all broad shoulders and scruffy as can be, rodeo dirt still decorating his unshaven jaw. He hasn't even bothered to change out of his flannel, the ripped upper sleeve falling open to reveal the thick bicep lurking underneath. The left one sits a little awkwardly. Higher. An old injury aggravated by tonight's ride.

You want to climb him like a damn tree.

"Maybe it is." Coy.

"Oh really?" His head cocks off to the side, hair falling into his face. "Who's it for?"

You've already got an answer brewing, but you hold it on your tongue for a moment, feigning thought. "His name is Rhett."

He hums. "Never heard of him."

Silence.

And then—

Rhett's laugh twists through the air like a melody, the plastic chair squeaking as he all but falls into the poor thing. One of these days, he's gonna do that, and it'll snap in two, but today doesn't seem to be that day.

His hand motions toward the lone drink resting on the table, with its obnoxious blue color and lone cherry still swirling from when you toyed with it. "What's that?"

"Something terrible," you're already lifting the glass, holding it out for him to take.

It's strange seeing him sipping from a dainty cocktail glass. Looks so much smaller when it's in his hand. You're not even sure if he notices the severe lack of juice, entirely unphased by the tequila that greets him. The cherry slips between his parted lips, the stem catching between them.

"I thought you didn't like cherries?" Your head tilts to the side, curious.

"I don't." His brow furrows, all too focused on something that you can't see. "But I like doin' this." Before you can begin to process what he's just said, his mouth opens, a tied cherry stem resting on top of his tongue.

And here you thought you'd seen it all from him. "Is this your new party trick?"

"Somethin' like that," the stem falls, landing somewhere that you don't see. Maybe you would know if you weren't too busy watching him lean forward, eyes sparkling with something he has yet to share. "Hey, do y' wanna get outta here?"

"Not having fun?" Your answer is yes, but you're not sharing that yet.

"I am, but..." then, lowering his voice, as if there's a risk of someone hearing him over the booming music, "'s more fun when it's just us."

You don't know where he's planning to go after this, but you're sold.

"I still can't believe you!" The squeal of the passenger door nearly drowns out your giggles, plastic grocery bags rustling as you climb out of the truck.

You haven't the slightest clue which bag has the popcorn and which contains the chips, but the weight of the drinks is painfully obvious, the plastic handles rubbing uncomfortably against your arms. Curse the cashier for cramming all the bottles into one bag.

"Yeah, like you ain't never distracted me so you could pay for somethin'." Rhett's still laughing, that big cocky grin plastered across his face.

"But I never pretended I lost my keys!" Raising your voice for added effect, rounding the back of the truck.

He's already beaten you here, opening the beaten tailgate. "Maybe ya should've." Wink.

Your eyes roll so hard that it hurts. "I'll remember that for the next time we get snacks."

Rhett's shoulder nudges yours, pushing just hard enough to make you sway. "You'll forget."

"I'll forget." Immediate acceptance. You've sung this tune so many times that even you know that you never follow through in the end.

The back of his truck is a damn mess; square bales of hay, two empty gas cans, the shredded remnants of a flannel, a handsaw, and you think that's a bag of chicken feed over there in the back corner. The tailgate is the only open space for you to set the bags on, and it's only now that you realize how many snacks you've actually gotten.

"We probably should have gotten dinner at Odessa's instead," you find yourself saying as you poke through one of the bags. Where in the world are those candies you got?

He reaches past you, plucking a stray screwdriver out of the mess that is his truck bed. Something tells you that he's been looking for that. "What makes ya say that?"

"Look at all the junk we got!" Opening up one of the bags for him to see, as if he wasn't there when you both picked out and bought these things.

But Rhett just shrugs, "Don't see nothin' wrong with it."

Hypothetically, it shouldn't take you that long to find your candy. There are only five bags, but even as you poke through them all, you don't see that brightly colored packaging anywhere. But you know they were rung up. They're on the damn receipt! So where the hell...did you miss them somehow?

By the time you find them sitting in the front seat, nestled up against Rhett's lost bag of sunflower seeds, he's already set up the blankets. Thick, old things layered on top of each other as a makeshift cushion, protecting you from the rocky ground lurking beneath the grass. One of the downsides of choosing a pasture to lounge in, you suppose.

He's already sitting on the corner of his makeshift blanket nest, half-lidded eyes drinking you in as you settle down next to him, your knee clumsily knocking into his thigh. You'd pay attention to him if you weren't too focused on this box of candy, pushing your thumb under the thin cardboard edge, forcing it open.

Weight appears on your shoulder.

Those Western romances always talk about the allure of a stoic, gunslinging cowboy, weathered by the elements and the human definition of fearless. They always fail to mention the cowboys who blink up at you like a puppy, too shy to verbally beg for a piece of your snack.

"Do you want something?" Dipping your fingers into the box, pulling out one of the candies.

Rhett hums. Not quite a yes, but not quite a no, either. It's one of those sounds that you've heard enough times to know what it means, already lifting the first piece of candy to his lips. The scruff of his chin tickles your skin when he takes it.

Blind, your hand feels along his face, stealing away the overwhelming warmth residing there, drinking in the soft drag of his facial hair, finally at that perfect length where it no longer feels like sandpaper but has yet to begin looking like the beginnings of a beard. His tongue presses on the soft inside of his cheek, pushing against your fingers.

"Quit that!" You squeal, yanking your hand back.

"'s it really feel that weird?" His head tilts, and you don't need to look to know that he's peeking up at you.

"Yes!" And there might be more to add to that, but you're pushing one of the candies into your mouth, the sweetness effectively shutting you up. Remaining quiet even as he tilts his head to press a prickly kiss to the side of your neck, such a simple gesture that should not have your lower belly twisting with something familiar.

You've got to think about something else. Something that doesn't involve jumping on and biting him like a flea. Sucking hard on that little piece of candy, eyes scurrying for something to look at. But all you're finding is darkness and more darkness.

No lampposts or porch lights or flickering campfires, just the pale glow of the moon and the speckling of stars hanging in the sky. There are so many of them up there. Almost looks as if someone has dumped a bottle of glitter atop a roll of never-ending black velvet fabric, twinkling proudly against their backdrop of nothingness.

The weight on your shoulder disappears. Leaves behind an absurd sense of coldness as he gets up to fetch something from the truck. Odd, how you never seem to realize how warm he is until after he's gone.

Even the poor lighting can't hinder you from taking him in. The rodeo spurs clinging to his muddied boots. The leather chaps that hang low on his hips, with the thin little buckles in the back that squeeze the thick meat of his thighs. You know there's a reason for them to be there, but the irrational part of your brain reckons they exist solely to make you dizzy.

"Are you ever going to take those chaps off?" You find yourself asking, after a moment, dragging your gaze away from his ass.

Rhett freezes, his hand still wedged in the plastic bag as he looks down at his own two legs. "Eventually," he pauses, cracking open one of the cans. You haven't a doubt in your mind that it's one of those spiked lemonades he's recently discovered. "Whenever my shoulder loosens up enough t' let me mess with it."

"Need help?" Words firing off your tongue before you can process what they mean.

The black and yellow can lifts to his mouth, poorly concealing the upward turn of his lips. "I ain't never said no to you undressin' me, doll."

One little sentence, and you've forgotten about your candy entirely, letting it fall onto the blankets without any care for whether or not it spills. You've hardly got to move; settling onto your knees is more than enough. He steps forward, standing right on the edge of the blanket, that oversized buckle glimmering in the moonlight. Your fingertips brush over the edge of it, dented from the hoof of last week's bull.

"I thought the clasp broke on this?" Audibly tapping a nail against it as you make your way to the much smaller buckle hanging underneath. Not thin or frail by any means, but the contrasting sizes isn't doing it any favors.

Your fingers hook beneath the belt, tugging on the tiny strip of leather until he gets the hint.

He grunts, boots shuffling as you drag him forward. "Nothin' a little weldin' couldn't fix."

It's easier to see the awkward hang of his left shoulder from down here, tense and lifted higher than the right one, like someone's wound the muscle too tight. Maybe that dislocation would have healed correctly if he agreed to that hospital visit. But...here you are.

All you've got to do is pull the leather strap backward, and the prong pops out of the hole. For such tough-looking chaps, they sure come off easily. One weak tug is all it takes to have them falling down his legs, falling as quickly as you'll let them, hands gliding down the sides of his thighs and past his bony knees, eating up as much time as you can.

It's a shame that you don't need to undo the buckles around his thighs, too; you wouldn't mind the tedious process of helping him buckle them back up, either. But it's too late for that. You've already gotten the leather past one of his boots, working it over the other just as quickly.

Even as you set those old chaps to the side, Rhett doesn't make much of an effort to move, standing idle as you fold them. Eyes locked with yours, transfixed by the simple image of you on your knees, right in front of him. You know what he's thinking. You're thinking it, too. Memories so prominent in your mind that you're already beginning to act on them.

Something booms in the distance. A deep noise that rolls through the pasture like a warning of something more to come. You think that's lightning, you see, flickering in the corner of your eye, but you're not paying attention. You can't. Not when your hands are moving on their own whims, gliding up the sides of his thighs.

Rhett's hum echoes into his half-empty can. Seems to carry for miles. "Didn't realize we were gettin' another storm."

His breath hitches. Eyelashes fluttering.

Your hand drifts across the tent in his jeans once more. Warm. Growing heavier with every passing second. "Think we have time?" You ask as if you don't already know the answer. As if there isn't a sudden heat flushing between your legs, the voice in your head impatiently demanding that you hurry up and pinch open his belt.

"'n here y' say I'm the one with a problem," but just like that, he's sinking to his knees. Face to face, all too quickly.

"It's not my fault that you look like...that!" Floundering for an escape from the situation you've created all by yourself.

One side of his mouth quirks upward, that lopsided smile so bright that it ought to put the sun to shame. Wind rips past, nudging his hair out from behind his ear and into his face, but it does nothing to hide his pretty face. Scruffy as it may be.

It must be the breeze that nudges you forward because you don't feel yourself moving. But you're leaning forward, mouth blindly clashing with his. A little too far to the right at first, and then his hair is in the way, and...

oh.

You've missed this.

It's hardly been a few hours since the last time, but your heart argues that it's been a lifetime and a half. One little chaste peck, and then another, and another, and another, until you cease to part ways altogether. Those big arms wind around you, his palm pressing into the small of your spine, drawing you up against him.

And you're melting into him like ice cream in the summer sun, any semblance of control vanishing alongside it. Hands roaming up the broad expanse of his chest, tickling against his neck, curling around his prickly jaw, tangling in the curls resting at his nape. Your touch is nothing special, and yet he groans into your kiss anyhow.

Callouses catch on the soft skin of your lower back, his hands shamelessly wandering beneath your shirt. Pulling it off is tempting, but Rhett's lemonade-flavoured tongue is licking into your mouth, and the wind whispers that you don't have the time for that kind of luxury. Not if you don't want to get rained on by another one of Wabangs popup storms.

But you do have time to reach for his flannel, dragging your finger through the buttons, audibly snapping apart at record speeds. He needs to wear pearl snap flannels more often.

"Shit," he's gasping against your lips, breaking apart for the slightest of seconds, "'s a lil cold."

The world spins around you. Back hitting the ground with all the grace and ease of a newborn deer. A bolt of lightning tears across the sky, set off by the burning hands that appear on your hips, tugging at your waistband. Your body lifts, and they're gone. You're not even sure what has become of your shoes. Don't recall feeling them come off, but your socked feet are sliding against the blanket, fighting for purchase.

Rhett's eyes snap shut, squeezing so tight that his forehead wrinkles with the effort.

"What hurts?" You already know that look. Already have a vague idea of what could be bugging him.

"Shoulder," speaking through gritted teeth, not bothering to ease up, as if relaxing his jaw could bring on another wave of pain. "moved it too fast." Slower this time, he leans forward, hands falling onto either side of you, and—

"Shit." He's hissing under his breath. Sounds more like a snake than a man. There's no way that he's going to be able to put weight on that left arm, not with his shoulder visibly twitching, sent into an angry spasm.

"This isn't gonna work," you whisper, chasing the dwindling hope that your words will reach his ears but not his already sore ego.

Rhett hasn't even opened his eyes, but he's already shaking his head. Stubborn to the end. You know what he's going to say before it even leaves his mouth. "Hold on, if you give me a second..."

You've already got an idea. "Lay on your back." Your hands find his chest, gently pressing until he gets the message, limbs awkwardly tangling as you exchange positions. Straddling his plush thighs, settled a little bit lower than you'd intended.

It's not quite what you originally had in mind, but you've never been one to complain about riding a cowboy, already beginning to reach for his belt buckle. You don't know how you found this difficult when you first got together; all it takes is the slightest motion, and it pops open. Then comes his belt and the crooked zipper that struggles to run down the tracks.

His hips jerk, thighs smacking into your ass. "Not that I'm complainin', darlin'," there's a weakness to his voice that wasn't there a moment ago. Like he's run a marathon in the time it took you to blink. "'s there somethin' rilin' you up?"

"No." Then, smiling, "Just you."

Blue eyes dart away. Looking off to the side. "Oh."

If it were lighter outside, you think you'd catch a whisper of a blush coloring his cheeks, but your vision has been reduced to dark blobs of color. Can't even tell what color his boxers are, even when your hand dips through the front of them, blindly reaching until—

Rhett sucks in a breath.

It's hardly been a few minutes, and yet he's already so damn heavy. Thick in your grasp, a bead of precum running down the underside of his tip. Your thumb swipes across it, dragging it back up to his plush cock head.

"You're already so wet, cowboy," you muse, lazily tracing circles around his slit. There's so much of it. Dripping like a damn faucet, so much precum that you can see the glisten of it in the darkness.

Thunder rumbles to your left. Closer now. But you just can't help yourself.

Your mouth finds the underside of his cock. Pressing kisses onto the vein that runs along there, working your way up from his base. Tongue lazily poking out to swirl around his head, so used to the saltiness of his precum that you hardly even notice it. One of those advantages that comes with knowing him like the back of your hand.

Like how you know that the delicate scrape of your teeth will make him—

"Ah!" Sharp. Pitchy. The closest thing you'll get to a squeal, the kind of sound that has your thighs trying to squeeze together, suddenly warm.

Something in your jaw pops as you take him into your mouth. Sucking lazily, like you're savoring a piece of candy, not even making an effort to stop the drool from slipping past your lips. The wetter the better. Because you're pretty sure you know the answer to the question you're about to ask.

"Condom?" Pulling off of him with a soft 'pop.'

Rhett's head tilts toward the truck, brow furrowing, visibly thinking for a moment. Then, his lips flatten into a line. "'s in my jeans at home."

Thunder rumbles once more, urging your already racing thoughts to scramble even faster. Pulling out could be an option if not for the fact that it's never worked out for you in the past, always seeming to forget in your final moments. Riding in that bouncy passenger seat with his cum leaking out of you has never been the most comfortable thing. Cleaning up is the worst, but...

Fuck, you really can't seem to make yourself care about any of that.

Rhett's belly flexes with the effort to sit up, his right elbow bracing his weight. A familiar blob of black peeks out from beneath his open flannel, that old bucking bull tattoo. Under the thin veil of darkness, it's easy to convince yourself that it's brand new. That the poor-quality ink hasn't caused it to fade quicker than it should have.

A kiss presses to your cheek. "What're ya thinkin'?"

"A little mess never hurt anyone," you don't know if you're talking to him or yourself. Maybe both.

You don't realize how close you are until your noses clash, knocking together as you squirm up to settle in his lap. His left hand finds its way to your hip, burning against your chilly skin. Doesn't do anything more than rest there, touching you for the sake of touching you.

It's a bit crude, reaching down to pull your underwear to the side rather than pulling them off entirely. But then you're guiding him up, and his dripping tip is dragging through your folds, and you can't think about anything else.

"You're just as bad as I am," Rhett's laugh is so much bigger than any of that distant thunder, rumbling through you in delicate waves.

"Like this hasn't been a known fact for years," and for that statement of his alone, you're stringing this out even longer. Bringing him back up before he can begin to sink into you, selfishly rubbing him against your clit, sensitive from lack of attention.

Lightning flickers. Rhett's hips shift, slipping back down your cunt, stubbornly nudging against your entrance. Manages to lift himself enough to create a blooming pressure there, the very tip of him slipping inside.

Fuck, you're still aching from the bit of fun you had before the rodeo. Tangled up on the couch, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the rapidly ticking clock. Or maybe the discomfort is from the severe lack of lube. Nothing but spit, precum, and your own wetness to soothe the drag of him as you begin to sink down on him.

"Mmph," Rhett's head tilts back, pale throat exposed. "How're you so—shit. How're you still so damn tight?"

On its own, something in your lower belly loosens, almost as if it didn't realize it was doing it in the first place. Allows you the fleeting courtesy of a breath of air before his tip fully slips into you. Heat jumps up your spine, swirling around in the back of your head.

"I should ask you the same thing," your voice comes out weaker than what you anticipated, "why are you so damn big?"

And all that's done is make him laugh again. Nose nudging your cheek as he leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his smile too big for it to be anything more than a peck. But you want more, chasing after him as he tries to lean away, helpless to do anything but fall forward.

Gravity quickens the glide of your body, his cock sinking further into you. The curve of him rubs into a set of nerves, never has taken very long for him to find them, thick length incessantly dragging against it.

A heavy fist strikes the land to the west, the resounding boom washing over the surprised grunt that wrangles its way out of Rhett's throat. The only reason you catch note of it is from the way it rumbles against your bottom lip, pulling the corners of your mouth up into a giddy smile.

All too quickly, you're fully seated in his lap, fitting against him like a puzzle piece. Bodies carved to fit seamlessly against one another, lost in the blending of limbs, tangling until you can no longer tell where one of you begins and the other ends. A shiver races up your spine, pussy involuntarily spasming around his thick cock.

"Didn't think I was gonna be the one gettin' ridden tonight," there's no reason for Rhett to be grinning up at you like this, with that healing split in his lip and those glistening eyes. Mesermized. As if he's taking in the sight of a precious painting lost for centuries.

If you didn't know any better, you would think he was looking at the stars behind your head.

But he's only looking at you.

It's got you lifting yourself a little too quickly; haven't even begun to adjust to his size yet. "You'd better hope it lasts longer than eight seconds."

Something sharp digs into your knee as you lift yourself, but it's impossible to pay attention to. So fucking full of him that your every racing thought has wrapped itself around the shape of his name. Oh, and it's not helped by the burning drag of his cock; a little too big for you to be riding him without lube.

You're sinking back down when his hips lips, snapping up into you midway. Fuck, you're burning alive out here. Growing wetter from that little motion alone, that tingling heat climbing your spine and settling into your cheeks.

"Impatient," you're huffing, lacking any bit of the conviction you'd hoped you would have.

"Them bulls buck, y'know," that smug grin of his falters as your hips swivel, readjusting yourself, "'m just playin' my part."

So annoying.

So, so annoying.

Something about the change in an angle has him rubbing up against something he hadn't before, air catching in your throat as he presses directly into it. Shit, it's too early for your thighs to be shivering like they are, and it's all you can do to flatten your palms against his chest, forcing yourself to remain upright.

"Keep—mmh keep doin' that." Stupid cowboys and their stupidly pretty whines. Has no right to be squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head back and forth like he's trying to shake the feel of you out of his head.

And he just keeps rubbing against those little nerves, over and over and over. Stars sparkle across your vision, so many of them that you can no longer tell which hang high in the sky and which stem from your own imagination. Whether or not that's thunder or the hammer of your own heart, you're not even remotely sure.

A stray hand meanders up your back, his touch so feather-light and ticklish that it's got you arching away from it. Unintentionally angling him into those soft little spots even more, your pussy clenching around him so tightly that you nearly freeze in place.

You hardly feel yourself reaching for his wrists. Only recognize the feel of them in your grasp, thick and strong from years of manual labor, yet so willing to be pinned over his head. Falling into place like they always longed to be there.

"Fuck," Rhett's teeth sink into his bottom lip, stifling a noise that you wish you could have caught, "so fuckin' pretty on top of me."

"And here I thought you were marveling at the storm," panting into the open air like a damn dog, breathless all too quickly. As if the slow rise and fall of your hips is simply too much for you to handle.

Rhett's biceps flex, muscle visibly rippling as the thunder crackles. "Nah," grunting, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, "could watch y' ride me all fuckin' day."

God, what is it about sex that makes him so fucking talkative?

Your hand darts out to the side. Blindly patting the blankets until you find one of the candies that spilled out of the container, shoving it past his parted lips before he can utter another word.

His mouth wobbles. Torn between a smile and something he wants to say. Neither manages to win the upper hand, instead beaten by a secret third thing. Because now he's sitting up, wearily bracing himself on that good arm, eyes falling shut midway as he leans in to kiss you. Knocking into each other so abruptly that your teeth audibly clatter.

But the wind is twirling past you with a kind of ferocity that wasn't there before, and in the back of your mind you're convinced that you've inadvertently caused it to happen. Distant storm falling into a rage as you tumble forward, forearms resting on either side of his head, hands in his hair, drowning yourself in the lemonade and candy that paints his tongue.

Something sparks behind your eyes. "Rhett..."

He doesn't respond. Doesn't need to. The lift of his hips is more than enough of a reply, so sudden that it rips a sharp noise out of your throat. A decade of bull riding has made him too fucking strong for his own good, pushing up into you with devastating ease.

This...thisis something. His breath tickling your skin. Your chest against his, nails scraping at his scalp. Helpless to do nothing but whine as he brushes against those little spots once more. Long, heaving motions that jostle you with every thrust, your eyes already struggling to remain open.

"Rhett," repeating yourself like a broken record, panting into his ear like you're getting paid to do it.

The ground shakes. Lightning strikes somewhere in the distance, volting through the soil, up through your knees, and into your belly. Or maybe it's not lightning at all, simply the dizzying sensation of his cock driving up into you with a sickeningly wet noise. You can't help the way your legs squeeze impossibly tight around him. Can't stop the familiar tingle from settling into your core, spreading down into your thighs.

You don't remember when the babbling started, but you can hear the sound of your name twisting through the air, chanting beneath his breath like a melody. His prickly cheek rubs against yours, and you just know that it's going to leave your skin raw, but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"'m gonna..." the rasp of his voice has you clamping tighter around him. A whimper slips off his tongue. "I—"

He doesn't need to finish that sentence. One look is all you need.

You are, too.

There's no need for you to reach down and touch yourself. His cock alone is enough to have you crumbling like a house of cards, burying your head into the crook of his neck, unable to muffle every little noise he punches out of you. Downright merciless as he rubs into those sensitive little nerves over and over and over and—

A ghost of wind is enough to push you over the edge. Tumbling over the edge and into the abyss, the world around you going quiet as you cum around his cock. Not a sound breaking past your lips, head swirling round and round until you can no longer tell which way is up.

You're only distantly aware of the sudden stalling of Rhett's hips, pushing up into you so hard that he lifts you up. Can't miss the sensation of his cock twitching, his cum spilling into your pussy, rope after rope of it, so much that you think you can feel it pooling inside of you.

A drop of rain hits your shoulder. Cold. Biting into your skin with its sharp little teeth.

The storm is so much closer now, thick clouds hanging overhead, blocking out the stars entirely. Electricity arcs across the sky as you begin to lift yourself up before your body is even ready to move.

Rhett's cock slips out of you with an awkward noise, slapping audibly against his belly. Shit, you can already feel it beginning to spill out, don't know how you plan to get home without making a mess of your clothes.

A groan sounds from below you. "So fuckin' full of it," the soft tip of his cock presses back into you, and you don't need to look to know that Rhett's eyes are fixated on the obscene sight of his cum leaking out of you. "God damn."

"Well, don't...mmh, don't keep pushing it in," but your complaint is futile, and you're making no effort to try and stop him. No point in it, you suppose; it's not as if you can clean yourself up out here.

He chuckles at that. You think the stars have secretly gathered in his eyes, sparkling in those deep blues. "Can't do nothin' 'bout it now."

"Hold on!" Your giggles echo through the kitchen, wet feet stumbling across the tile. "I can't move that fast!"

But Rhett's hand keeps tugging you along, sliding around the corner and into the hallway. Water pours from his hair and shoulders, speckling across the floor, leaving a trail in his wake. A mess that you'd complain about if not for your own soaked clothes, so cold that you've gone entirely numb.

Lights flicker overhead, power fading in and out as the storm rages on. Rain striking the windows so hard that you can hear it, even as you fumble down the hallway. Wet socks slide against the tile as you try to turn, your shoulder bumping into Rhett's. His hip smacks into the door frame. Your feet tangle.

"We ain't never doin' that again," he's stumbling toward the shower, reaching for the knobs. Twists until he can't crank the hot water up any hotter. Something, anything to melt away the ice that's about to freeze over your skin.

You reach for the hem of your shirt, the fabric clinging to you like a second skin. "I thought you liked having sex outside."

"I do," he pauses, pulling the material over your head. It audibly hits the floor, the beginnings of yet another mess. "I don't like downpours 'n hail!"

The red mark on his forehead is only just beginning to bloom, sure to darken as the night rages on. It's a little too high up to be blamed on a bar fight, but you're sure he'll find a way to play it off when his momma asks about what happened.

Your pants are on the floor before he can finish getting his flannel off, not a care in the world for where they land. Your mind only has enough room for one thought at a time: hot water. A cloud of steam greets you as you step into the shower. The water has yet to hit your skin, and yet you can already feel yourself melting, the heat eating away at the invisible frost that has long since settled upon you.

It's almost too hot, the spray seeming to burn little holes straight through your chest, and your toes sting. Such a sharp contrast compared to the heat that you wonder if it'll eat you alive.

A firm chest presses against your naked back, familiar arms settling loosely around your waist. "Y' jus' gonna leave me behind like that?" His attempt at sounding irritated doesn't miss your ears, but it dies before he can finish the sentence. Isn't helped by the kisses that appear on your shoulder.

"If you can ride bulls, then you can climb into the shower by yourself," leaning back into him, your eyes fall closed. It might be the first time you've blinked since the rain began to fall, starting the moment you'd begun gathering the blankets into your arms. Mother Nature's punishment for not taking her warnings seriously.

Rhett hums, the vibration tickling the side of your neck. "Then." Kiss. "I should probably." Kiss. "Tell you." Kiss. "That we didn't bring any clean clothes..." Kiss. "Or towels."

...the towels.

Your groan bounces off the tile walls and out into the hallway, probably even ventures past the closet and out into the living room. Why did it never occur to you to grab towels and clothes before you climbed in here?

"We'll rock paper scissors it after we rinse off," it's the same solution he uses for every conflict, but you find yourself agreeing with the idea anyway.

He loses. Never deviates from playing rock, even when he knows full well that you will forever play paper. You're not sure if he's waiting for the day that you crack and play scissors or if he's intentionally losing, but you've got the sneaking suspicion it's the latter. He's way too content to dart into the hallway for towels, returning with more than either of you could possibly need.

"Did you grab every towel in the closet?" You laugh as you pull one of them around your shoulders, hugging it to yourself like a blanket. It's too damn cold in this house.

"No," then, grinning, "I left one behind."

He's gone before you've finished drying off, comes back one more time with your favorite pajamas in his hand, then disappears into the darkness of the house. Where he's gone, you're not sure; it's hard to tell when he never turns any of the lights on, navigating based on muscle memory alone.

But you can hear the television turning on, your forgotten movie picking up right where it left off.

"Rhett?" Calling out as you mosey out of the bathroom.

Damp carpet squishes beneath your feet, frigid and not at all what you expected to find yourself standing on. Only seems to get worse as you make your way down the hall, hopelessly soaked with rainwater. The old fan is already out, cool air blowing across the worst of it, licking at your heels when you step past.

Rhett's pale shoulders stick out like a sore thumb in the living room. All too visible as he moves around, hands audibly patting something down on the couch. Blankets. The ones off the bed, out of the closet, hell, he's grabbed the decorative one off the rocking chair. All to build an oversized nest, high around the edges, like he's trying to keep something out. So focused on the task at hand that he doesn't notice you until it's too late.

"Jesus!" His naked back jumps away from you as if burned by your kiss.

"Watcha buildin'?" Your speech mimicking his just a little more than usual, already leaning in to press a second kiss in between the knobs of his spine. Rhett twists in your arms before you can land a third, the swell of his chest mere inches from your lips now.

You'll smooch him here, too.

"Our last line of defense," his giggle rides on the coattails of another roll of thunder. "Jus' in case that storm knocks out the power 'n steals our heat."

You don't realize his arms are around you until he's falling toward the couch, taking you right along with him, landing in a messy heap on top of the blankets. A box of candy rattles behind your back. Someone bumps into the remote, the movie pausing on the television screen.

A piece of the candy bounces off your chin, narrowly misses landing back in Rhett's hand. You find it squished between your chests, pushing it between his parted lips.

"Y' gonna keep force feedin' me candy?" He asks, that little candy rolling across his tongue as he speaks. Wonder if you'll be able to taste it if you kiss him.

You lean in, nuzzling your noses together. "It's my new party trick."

His eyes roll so hard that you hope they'll get stuck.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #oneshot #afab reader #outer range #tw alcohol #tw food

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schemmentis · 6 months

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Revelation - Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Warnings: Depiction/Talking of Anxiety & Depression

Word Count: 1.7k

By the next night, Melissa has had an entire existential crisis. She practically bullied poor Jacob from the living room without meaning to. Seeing him, though, had only reminded her of the previous night's realization and made her decidedly not want to spend time with him. Lest he find something else to say to tip her world upside down all over again.

She's already dreading Monday and being in the same room as you. Except…that's really not true. She's always happy to see you. She just isn't sure what to make of this shift of her understanding of her own feelings. She hardly wants to risk losing you in her life. You have a wonderful relationship. You're her closest friend. She doesn't see Barbara outside of work half as much as she does you.

If she sees you Monday and can't pretend things are as usual, you'll know. You've always been able to read her better than most. Even in the early days of getting to know each other. Now that she's spent the last day or so thinking over practically every moment spent with you since you met she realizes that's part of how you got so close. You were always ready to see beneath the surface of her reactions and responses.

You never let her standoff nature deter you or intimidate you before she accepted you would be around Abbott for a long time as opposed to the others that went in and out. You didn't like all the same things but the things you did you enthusiastically shared with her. The things you didn't, you still appreciated that she liked and would entertain or participate in those things with her. Just because she liked them.

Melissa slumps at the head of her bed with a groan. “Schemmenti, you are so fucked.” She mumbles into her pillow. Not the first time since yesterday she's thought it but it is the first time she's said it out loud.

She's worried about seeing you again, nervous. Still, she knows at the end of every day she'd choose to spend time with you anyway. So, her only choice is to just…see what happens. Melissa Schemmenti hates just seeing what happens. She hates surprises.

Her groan sounds again when her phone rings from somewhere next to her. It's already too late on a Saturday night to be getting called. Double too late when she's been working herself up with thoughts of feelings all day.

She lifts her head enough for one glaring eye to see her screen. The sight of a photo of the two of you you'd insisted on taking, and setting as your contact photo in her phone, lighting up her screen makes her sit up. It's definitely too late for you to call her.

Quickly, she's swiping the accept call button with her thumb. “Hon?”

She hears the sniffle after your quiet ‘hey’ in greeting. She doesn't bother asking if you're alright. She already knows the answer. “Do you need me to come over?”

“It's late…”

“That's not what I asked. Yes or no, Hon?”

She's about to pull the phone away from her ear to make sure she didn't accidentally hang up when you finally answer. “Yes, please.”

“I'll be there in ten, I'll use your spare to get in. Just hang tight for me.” She answers as she pushes away from her bed. She lets you be the one to end the call as she pulls on a hoodie and grabs her car keys. She doesn't bother telling Jacob she's leaving.

With the hour, she makes it to your apartment in eight. She plucks the spare key from its potted plant hiding place and lets herself in. She locks the door behind her, setting the key and her purse to the side table nearby.

She frowns slightly as she glances at the living room and kitchen as she pass through the short hallway to your bedroom.

What feels like forever ago, she had told you about Joe. The aftermath of her marriage and how it made her feel. You'd both been drinking that night but neither of you were drunk. She'd been just tipsy enough to feel comfortable sharing, at least with you. In return, you'd shared your own struggles with depression and anxiety.

Your apartment is not dirty. It's perhaps the normal level of weekend disarray. There are only a few dishes at the side of the kitchen sink. That she would guess is from breakfast. The blankets on your couch aren't folded.

It isn't really messy but Melissa knows these small things aren't like you. You tend to be on top of even these little things since you learned the mess of things can increase your anxiety about your depression worsening. It's small, but she notices.

“Hey,” she greets softly when she steps into your bedroom. She catches your answer, muffled by your blanket held to the lower half of your face.

Melissa sits on the edge of your bed, her legs swinging up to sit properly next to you. As if she has a hundred times before. “C’mon,” She coaxes softly, her hands waving you to her.

After a moment, you shuffle closer to her. Instantly, her arms are around you, holding you to her. You adjust to share your blanket with her.

She scoffs when you attempt to quietly apologize. “Don't give me no apology, Sweetheart. I don't need one. You called, I answered, huh? That's all there is to it. You'd have done the same for me.”

She nods at your soft agreement. You would have. Without question.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, in a whisper that sounds more like she's shared a secret.

“I don't know what happened.” You sigh, glad for the way she squeezes her arms around you in reassurance. It lets you feel like you can keep speaking. “Game night at yours was fun and I told myself when I left I'd get home and finish grading those quizzes from Thursday so I wouldn't have to worry about them all weekend. The next thing I knew I'd just been sitting around and scrolling on my phone until late. I figured I'd get up and do them this morning but…”

“Hard day to get outta bed?”

“Something like that. I just kept thinking of everything else I needed to do too and then what if come Monday I still can't even get myself to get up and then the kids will—”

“Shh,” Melissa cuts you off gently. A hand rubbing against your arm to soothe at the same time. “It's okay. You aren't gonna leave the kids like that. I know you. And it's okay to take a day or two off once in a while anyhow. But instead of worryin’ ‘bout Monday, let's worry about right now, alright? Right now, you're gonna stay right here with me and relax. Take a deep breath with me, Hon?”

You do. Following the pattern of Melissa's own breathing that is slow and purposeful. You let yourself slowly start relaxing at her side.

“Good.” She praises quietly when you keep your breath in time with hers. Even after the one requested deep breath. “We’re gonna stay here, and if ya need to talk it out more then I'm here to talk it out with or just listen. Or I can talk ya little ear off until you fall asleep. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

“I have no idea how your kids stay awake during story time.” You tease her gently, smiling into her shoulder.

“Why’d you think I only read to ‘em when they're real good?” She answers easily. You can hear the smile in her own voice.

“Thank you. For being here.”

Again, Melissa scoffs. “I don't need thanks any more than apologies, sweetheart. I've got you.”

You resolve, as you fight your eyes closing to sleep, that you'll be there whenever Melissa calls you too. No matter the hour. It's only whisper to tell you to not be ridiculous and sleep that has you actually giving in to rest.

When you wake the next morning, Melissa isn't next to you. The distant sound of rustling from your living room tells you she didn't go far though. You bring yourself to rise from your bed, vaguely noticing your full laundry hamper is gone from the corner of the room.

You dont think too hard on it though. You're not fully awake and it wouldn't surprise you if you moved it and forgot. Yet as you continue out to the living room, you do begin to question.

The dishes are washed and on the drying rack on your counter. The fruit bowl you keep for the mornings you don't plan well enough for breakfast so you have something quick is in its usual spot. Though the counter has been cleaned around it and a few of the pieces of fruit you noticed turning are gone.

You turn to see Melissa curled up on your couch. Nestled comfortably in the corner of one of the arm rests. The blankets are folded and laid across the back of the couch. The quizzes you meant to grade this weekend are in a pile next to her.

“Mornin’ Hon.” She greets without looking away from the paper she's marking. She finishes grading that particular students quiz, setting it to your coffee table. The stack on the table, the stack you realize is the ones she's graded, is much larger than the few left next to her on the couch.

“Mel, you didn't have to do all this.”

The hand holding one of your red pens waves your statement away. “It was nothin’. I woke up a little early and couldn't get back to sleep. I figured I could take a little off your mind. So I did.”

You pluck one of your other red pens from the coffee table, claiming the last few quizzes as you sit next to her. “Alright but I'm helping you finish, at least. Then we're going to breakfast.”

“You're gonna bribe me with pancakes to walk around the farmers market at this ungodly hour.” Melissa says. It isn't a question. She already knows it's exactly what's going to happen.

“Yes.” You admit with no sign of regret before you set about finishing the last few quizzes.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

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agendabymooner · 1 year

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MASTERLIST by agendabymooner

note: what i had done so far... i think?

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

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MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY

MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY

alex albon (aa23)

keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.

fernando alonso (fa14)

the breakup and makeup series

time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc)

from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)

bonnie and the fame

maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)

ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.

jenson button (jb22)

affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.

pierre gasly (pg10)

newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)

lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)

dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)

do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.

lewis hamilton (lh44)

stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)

thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)

where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)

lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.

melody series (x ofc)

two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?

charles leclerc (cl16)

the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own (not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men). (f)

lando norris (ln4)

london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)

honey, honey smau series (x ofc)

summary: hannah-sue ‘honey’ lewis is so much like her sideman brother with the exception of the fact that she didn’t watch formula one as much as she used to back when she had her crush on mercedes driver michael schumacher in 2010.

introduction

one, who tf is lando norris: she knows who she idolizes (and have a crush on; mason mount), she knows that she’s looking forward to getting the hell out of the university after two years of her masters degree program, and she knows that she doesn’t care about the formula one teams that aren't mercedes amg - she also knows she cares about mick schumacher.

esteban ocon (eo31)

the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)

the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.

sergio perez (sp11)

she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.

oscar piastri (op81)

jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.

kimi raikkonen (kr7)

stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)

daniel ricciardo (dr3)

rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)

read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)

mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)

mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)

gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)

kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)

timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)

if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)

baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)

supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)

rush series: wedding special

london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1

fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3

rush: mrs. ricciardo special

part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)

when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)

slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.

george russell (gr63)

his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.

carlos sainz jr. (cs55)

ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)

dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)

mick schumacher (ms47)

she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)

"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)

who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try.

kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie.

lance stroll (ls18)

gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?

yuki tsunoda (yt22)

line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.

max verstappen (mv1)

to loathe and to love series (x ofc) (wip)

summary: there is a massive difference between the two words, but sylvie was more than willing to blur out the line if it means for her to spend some time with what others called her soulmate, max verstappen.

one, it’s time to go: sylvie attended a christmas party and couldn’t seem to do what she normally did on the paddock: avoid max (a)

two, closure: her memories haunted her so much that the red bull team principal thought of her to be incompetent, so it was only ideal of max to face the music too. (a)

three, goodnight n go: she wasn't sure what was more surprising: toto's presence on her graduation celebration or max's expensive graduation gifts. (f)

four, gorgeous: there's nothing more satisfying than seeing christian horner own up to his own mistake. that, and max's office-warming gift that he dropped off in sylvie's new on-site office.

five, cinema: sylvie was left feeling unsure when she and max did things that friends normally wouldn't do after she was broken up with by another man. (hc, mc, s)

six, satellite: max verstappen might've avoided talking about what they had done before all of this, but he was certain he wouldn't get out of his way just to ignore her as he swore not to her one way or another ever again. (a, hc)

seven, mean: sylvie found herself with a million and a half pounds and winning against the boys who brought her racing career to an early end.

eight, long story short: they're friends, they said. they bought a house and adopted a dog together, they definitely did.

nine, mastermind: max wasn't going to admit that he was jealous. he wasn't going to tell her that he sabotaged her blind date, either. not that she didn't know.

ten, comfort crowd: ah yes, the first monday of may. when everyone speculated that sylvie was merely using him and when she finally admitted to missing him for the past four years.

eleven, matilda: they don't know much, maybe, but they know how they'll raise their children away from the toxicity that they grew up in, all thanks to their fathers who did nothing but set expectations. (hc)

extra: matilda volume two, smau: set years after the tltl series in which sylvie and max have the most adorable set of kids called emilia, lila and maximilian. (f)

to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)

lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)

sebastian vettel (sv5)

crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)

sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)

sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)

sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)

sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)

toto wolff

colour me your colour series (x ofc) (wip)

summary: tilly marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. everyone but one. and it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

one, what a beautiful sight that was: it was 2006 and she wanted nothing but to finish her research paper. their curiosity led them to a fifteen minute conversation that they would need to continue eight years after. (g)

two, tilly marie wants to go to hell: it's 2014 and she attended the british gp as a communication liaison for red bull. she didn't know that the man she met years ago was the team principal of mercedes, the rival team that her best friend drives for. lewis hamilton was more than amused to see her flustered, if you were to ask him. (g)

three, juliet's hit list: how can one give the heart eyes? daniel and lewis found tilly and toto flirting behind the cameras and behind the press audience and decided to mess with them. (g)

four, fast lane but not the race weekend kind: daniel and lewis might as well be attending a sleepover if they keep asking tilly about her relationship with toto. (g)

five, how to romance and cry in the same day: tilly goes on a date with toto for the first time and learns about her father's intention to pass ownership to her. (a, f, g)

six, love on camera: tilly and toto have a bad habit of flirting not so subtly.

seven, age is just a number and love is just a shame: tilly, while she believed her mother was right about the age difference between her and a certain mercedes team principal, is sure that she isn't falling fast and hard for him.

colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)

the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)

the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)

the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.

f1 drivers (general)

9 to 5 series (x characters) (spin-off of cmyc and rush)

summary: lorelei hester ‘lester’ alessandro is a bassist first and daniel ricciardo's partner second. but it seems like another role is added to her resume as she begins her weekend in baku as toto wolff’s children’s babysitter.

the original five and the playlist

one, baby names and text messages: lester receives a text message from an unknown number, only for her to offer max verstappen's seat to her boyfriend.

two, max's lowered iq and linkedin profiles: max tries to defend himself as he experiences the morning wrath of lester.

three, the most toto coded children: toto gets ready for the baku weekend by styling his daughter's hair and thinking that he could just stay at home and talk business with his kids.

four, papa, soren and tia's promise hug: lester's more worried that she'll mess up her duties and upset the father of the two wolff cubs.

five, the little weapons of destruction distraction: the first half of her babysitting day consisted of reading too much, learning the word 'accident' and daniel ricciardo being a bad influence on toto wolff's shy son.

863 notes · View notes

strawhbrrries · 1 year

Text

Hell on Heels.

pairing: rhett abbott x tillerson!afab!reader

summary: you made the devil a deal; he made you pretty, he made you smart and rhett abbott she’s coming after you.

warnings: everyone calls reader ‘honey’, sweet rhett, the tillersons (they need their own warning tbh but i love a good forbidden romance), mutual pining (sorta), unprotected p in v, car sex, a wee bit of fingering, creampie, let me know if i forgot anything, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread

word count: 4.4k words

author’s note: i love rhett abbott and i think this rivals the cowgirl series as one of the best things i’ve ever written. I’m just a sucker for a white man in a cowboy hat. honey is ENTIRELY inspired by the pistol annies so channel them when you read them. I’ve been hyping this up to @thesirenrealm all night so i’m saying my prayers that it lives up! as always, please enjoy!!! mwah!!!!

read the next part here!

“The rodeo ain’t ‘till later tonight.”

His voice was warm, wrapping you up in a thick blanket and protecting you from the world. A false sense of security, your brother’s had tried to scare you with some bullshit about not trusting the Abbott boys. As if your family was any better.

“Stalkin’ me, Abbott?” You turned around to face him, the railing of the arena leaving indents on the undersides of your arms, the corners of your lips turning into a smile.

“Luke know you’re out here?” He looked around, almost like he was expecting your brother to pop out of the shadows somewhere and give him shit for even speaking to you, avoiding your question.

“No, and I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You huffed, annoyed everyone saw you as an extension of your older brother. Even more so that Rhett did, you’d tried so hard to stand out to him.

“He doesn’t see it that way. Why’re you out here?” He inquired, leaning against the railing next to you, squinting his eyes as the sun found its way under his hat

“Space,” you looked over at him, “ I assume that’s why you’re out here?”

“Bingo.” He looked over at you, holding eye contact until you broke it and looked back into the arena in front of you. “Why don’t you leave the ranch if you want space so much, Honey? You’re out here more days than you’re at your own home.”

His observation was a slight stab in the guts, only because he was right. You loved your family, truly, as best as you could while keeping yourself sane. Luke wanted to control everyone and everything, including you and what you did. You were half surprised he hadn’t implanted a tracker underneath your skin, in your car, or downloaded one on your phone. In some ways it could be written off as well meaning, he just wanted to make sure his people were okay. He was just crazy, you knew it. Billy, he was a sweet thing, just never knew when to shut the fuck up. Your dad had gone off his rocker long ago, probably forget he had a daughter due to your absence around the house.

“And where do you suggest I go, Abbott?” You scoffed at his suggestion, your family might’ve had some money but you’d never seen any of it. Buying a house or renting was out of the question.

“Quit callin’ me that.” He scoffed right back at you, his eyes never leaving you.

“Fine, Rhett. Answer the question.”

“I’ve offered multiple times, Honey. It still stands now.” His tone was softer now, more serious.

You’d ignored him, walked away and got into your car, drove all the way to your house. You wanted to contemplate his offer, wanted to take him up on it but you’d just be intruding on his family’s space. You’d rather act like you only slept at your house before you became a burden to another family. Your phone lit up three times with Rhett’s name on your drive home, probably telling you to think of the offer or maybe asking if you were gonna see him ride later.

He’d been shocked when you walked away, didn’t say a single thing or make any indication he’d done anything wrong. He was right, he’d offered you a place multiple times before, when he pointed it out he didn’t think he was going to upset you. He knew all about the loyalty you had for your family but he also knew the type of crazy Luke and Wayne were. Some days he wondered if you were ever truly related to them, sweet ol’ Honey. Your sweet demeanor earned you the nickname, you’d had it for years. It could be your real name and you’d know no different.

“Honey. Honey. Honey what the fuck.” Luke was yelling the second you walked in the door, it made you want to turn around. Pick up your phone. Tell Rhett you’d accepted his offer and was on your way.

“Luke, shut the fuck up.” Is all you had to say to him as you walked right past him and into your room, slamming the wooden doors as loud as you could.

Luke had yelled something in response, you couldn’t give a singular shit about whatever that man child wanted. You balled your fists, shaking them at your door quietly as he continued yelling. All you wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s why you spent so much time down at the showing arena during the day time, nobody else was there. It was deserted. Just you and your thoughts. Apparently also Rhett, not that you minded. You liked Rhett, a lot. He was just the right amount of rugged to contrast the delicate world built around you from being the only daughter. Just the right amount of mean to contrast your sweetness.

Your phone vibrated from its spot in your back pocket, you pulled it out and looked at the name at the top of your screen. Rhett Abbott.

“Honey.”

His voice was soft, just as soft as it had been at the arena, not a hint of annoyance with you. You appreciated that he wasn’t making you feel bad for leaving him hanging, appreciated that the guilt you were feeling wasn’t because of his words.

“Hey, Rhett. I'm sorry for leavin’ like that I-”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I just need to know if you’re comin’ to watch my ride.”

You should’ve given it to him for cutting you off like that, but your sweet heart had a Rhett Abbott shaped soft spot and always had. You listened to him talk like he was preaching the Sunday sermon, like whatever he was telling you would save your life.

“Yeah..yeah I’m comin’.” You flopped back on your bed, imagining where he was and what he was doing. Were his thoughts filled with you? Like yours were of him.

“Good.”

He hung up and filled you with disappointment, you knew he had to get ready to ride but it didn’t make you any less upset he didn’t have the courtesy to say bye.

“Bye, Rhett.” You whispered into the air, laying your phone down next to you, staring up at the angled ceiling as your thoughts became overrun with what you’d wear.

You loved being a girl; loved dressing up and looking pretty, loved the (wanted) attention you got from it, loved the solidarity you got from most other women. Tonight was no exception, the rodeo was your favorite excuse to wear the jeans that hugged your ass in all the right places and the bra that put the girls in the right place to get what you wanted when you wanted it. You didn’t need to dress up to impress anyone, you knew that but god if you didn’t love it. Touching up your hair and makeup was the last thing you did before shoving your phone in your back pocket, walking past whatever screaming fest your brother had found himself in now, and hauling ass to the rodeo. Sometimes, life wasn’t so bad.

“Honey! Over here!”

Your head snaps to the group of girls calling for your attention, a huge smile immediately lighting up your face as you walked over to join the group. You gave all the girls a hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling in a spot, you hoped Rhett could easily see you in. If it wasn’t your whooping and hollering that would get his attention, it was the cowboy hat he gifted you years ago matched with bright red lipstick. You were sex personified. Hell on Heels.

He’d spotted you the second you’d walked into the place, watched your hair bounce as you walked and watched the smile that stood proudly every time someone spoke to you. Watched your ass jiggle in the jeans you always wore when you dressed up, he hated them simply because he knew every man you encountered watched you saunter away the same way he did. The cat calling the kettle black. Rhett was many things but he was a dirty hungry man, hungry for all the things Honey Tillerson could offer. He watched you sit with a group of girls he didn’t know, nor did he give a single shit about, and try to get a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, he’d placed himself out of sight. He wanted to admire you from afar without being caught, boy was he glad he did when you started searching for him.

“Here for prince charming Abbott?” One of the girls teased, trying to get a rise out of you.

“Obviously, I don’t support anyone else as fiercely as I do for a man who isn’t mine.” You shot back, rolling your eyes playfully before breaking into giggles to let them know it wasn’t as serious as you’d pretended.

“All I’m sayin’ is, I’d never wait for a man who can’t commit.” You don’t know shit.

“Agreed, I mean I’m sure any Abbott boy is a catch but girl you’ve been pining after this man since grade school!”

You knew the girls were well meaning, just wanting you to go after a man who wanted you more than you wanted him. You’d die lonely before you settled for someone who wasn’t him, it didn’t matter if it took you a hundred years to get him to see you the way you saw him. He already did, you were just oblivious and put it off as some sort of kindness he gave to everyone. Rhett wasn’t the kind man to everyone like he was to you, he couldn’t give a shit if anyone had a place to stay trying to escape their crazy family, but he gave multiple for you.

“Ash you can’t even talk, your man can’t keep it in his pants. Leave mine alone.” You snapped, feigning niceness despite the venom of your words, tilting your head to the side daring any of the girls to try you one more time. Your sweetness only ran so far before it ran out, they were running it thin.

“God if I was a man, Honey, I’d be knocking down your dad’s door beggin’ him to let me marry you. Scratch that, I’d pay him to let me do it! If anyone supported me like you support Rhett, it’d be a miracle I wasn’t knee deep in kids.” The girl next to you spoke, laying her head on your shoulder as she did so. It felt nice for your support to be noticed by someone.

“I’ll be next in line in case he turns her down!”

The girls continued talking about how they’d love to marry you in another life up until the announcer came on to start up the rodeo. The rodeo on a summer night was your favorite place to be. Between the screams of everyone in town coming out to support someone they knew and the lights of the stadium, it filled you with warmth. You only half paid attention to all the bull riders before Rhett, wishing them good luck but not enough that they’d beat your man.

“Everyone stand and welcome our hometown hero! Rhett Abbott!”

You were the first to your feet, yelling louder than you were the last time, making sure he’d see you before his run. He’d whispered to you one night after a run, sneaked to your house to see you and thank you for coming to watch him, that you were his good luck charm. That he searched for you everytime he was getting ready to ride, it was a drunken confession but a true one nonetheless. Ever since that night you made sure he saw you, that he knew his good luck charm was there. Your voice rivaled his parent’s in loudness, depending on the night it was louder.

You held your breath through his entire ride, always scared to death he’d fall and get trampled by whatever bull he was riding that night. He never did. Always came out on top. He was the hometown hero, after all.

“Rhett!” You called after him, running up to him as he exited the ‘Rider’s Only’ area.

“Honey.” He smiled, scooping you up and twirling you around. It was the most affection he’d shown you, sober.

“Mr. Hometown Hero. Always winnin’, huh?” You teased, matching his smile as you looked down at him. Aware of the fact that he was almost entirely supporting you with one arm, your core just getting a tinge warm at the thought.

“Always, when I got my good luck charm here,” he nipped at your exposed collarbone, “God you are one gorgeous woman. Don’t know how the guys in the stand didn’t maul you before your pretty ass got here.”

“Oh hush, don’t care about ‘em anyway.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, waiting for him to cross the physical boundary of kissing.

He’d been close to it only twice before, once on your birthday and the other on the same night he’d first called you his good luck charm. Both times he’d been interrupted by a knock on a door and the holler of your name.

Your birthday is one you almost kiss you think back on frequently. You’d managed to ditch your family and friends for a few hours, sitting in the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck as he drove you back to your place. You invited him in, no one was home so there wasn’t anyone to tiptoe around. Showed him your room and locked the door. He laid down on your bed, moving onto his side so he could look at you as you laid down.

“Pretty lil thing.” He whispered, tracing a finger from the start of your forehead to the tip of your chin. He used that same finger to get you to look at him.

The two of you laid there, staring at each other, for a few moments. Admiring the other person. If the rest of your birthday had gone horribly wrong, laying here with him made it all better.

“Can I kiss you, Honey?” He asked, already running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Please, Rhett.” You whined, it was airy and desperate.

He leaned in, keeping his finger on your chin and pointed towards him, his lips ghosting yours. There wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you,

“Honey? Are you in there? Rhett Abbott’s truck is in the driveway.” It was Billy, the better of your brothers to have been home first.

“Yeah I'm here! He brought me back and was making sure I was okay!” You scrunched your face in annoyance, pushing Rhett off of you and trying to hurry him out of your room before anyone else arrived home.

The night he called you his lucky charm was also the night you think you realized that you loved Rhett Abbott, like truly loved him. He’d had his best ride of all season, gotten dragged out to go drink with the other riders when he’d rather celebrate with you.

You’d gone home slightly disappointed, you understood the other guys wanting to celebrate with him but you also wanted to see him. You weren’t greeted when you got home, not that you cared, but it only added to your disappointment that the people who were supposed to care about you didn’t. Your phone had found its way in the middle of your bed, being left there while you took a shower in some attempt to scrub away the disappointment. When you got dressed and finally picked it back up it read,

3 missed calls from Rhett Abbott

Your face fell, how could you miss these? You clicked on the notification and waited anxiously as it rang, nervous he wouldn’t pick up.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was loud, he was yelling over whatever commotion was going on in the back. Baby was new.

“You called?” Your voice barely above a whisper, gnawing on the end of one of your acrylic nails as you awaited his answer.

“Wanna come see you, see my girl.” His girl.

“My family’s here, you can’t.” Despite the thick walls providing a lot of sound proofing, you couldn’t help but whisper in fear that one of them had a cup to the door listening to your every word.

“I’ll park at the end of the driveway, walk around to your window. Please?”

“Just…be careful, please.” You smiled softly at the reflection of yourself on the screen, excited you’d be able to see him tonight.

What felt like forever went by before you heard a soft knock on your window. You unlocked it and pushed them open, leaning over the sill to look at him.

“Rebellious rebellious Honey Tillerson, what ever will we do with you.” Rhett joked, putting his hands up on the window to hold yours.

“Congrats, Rhett. You did amazing tonight.” You took his hands in yours and smiled down at him, although you could barely see him in the dark.

“Cause I had you, had my lucky charm, my girl.” His girl.

Your smile at that moment could’ve lit up the whole sky, the brightest thing he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t forgotten his phone in his truck he would’ve snapped a picture of you, probably would’ve fucked his hand to it later.

“I’ll be there, every time.” You leaned down just as he leaned up, hopeful it’d finally be the moment you’d kiss. You’d be lying if it wasn’t something you dreamed about constantly since your birthday. Your lips were once again, centimeters from each other when a fucking knock on your door rang out.

“Honey. Do you know where any of dad’s meds are?” Luke’s voice instantly filling you with rage, didn’t anyone in this house have anything to do when Rhett was trying to kiss you.

“No, I’ll help you look.” You yelled back, giving Rhett an apologetic look before closing your window and walking away to go help your incompetent brother.

Now here you were, in Rhett’s arms, inches away from his face. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, that he was gonna feel the excitement and the nervousness spilling out of you. And yet, he didn’t kiss you. He didn’t lean in or pull your face to his. He set you down, he put your feet back onto the ground.

“C’mon, I’m not kissin’ you here.” He read the disappointment written all over your face, grabbed your hand and brought you to his truck. “Because the last thing I need is someone trying to get your attention when it should be on me.”

“And your truck is that much more private?”

“It drives and the doors lock, your family seems to always need you when I do, I’d say it’s a bit more private.” He responded, opening the passenger side door for you and closing it once you got inside.

He got in the drivers side and closed the door, locking the truck and taking a deep breath before he turned to you.

“Honey, I am going to kiss you. If anyone fuckin’ interrupts me I will become a murderer.” He placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in and placed his lips on yours.

You placed a hand on top of his, just reminding yourself that Rhett Abbott was actually kissing you. He leaned in further, deepening the kiss a bit to test the waters as this was the first kiss the two of you shared together. He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, a small whine escaping the back of your throat causing him to chuckle against your lips.

“C’mere, pretty girl.” He helped you over the console in the middle and into his lap, his hands caressing your sides before finding their way to your ass. Giving it a nice squeeze, he’d thought about this every damn time you wore these jeans.

“Rhett.” You whined, leaning into him for support. Not because you couldn’t hold yourself up, you simply wanted to feel his hands on you and the strength he displayed earlier when he picked you up.

“What, baby? What? You gotta use your words, you know that.” He whispered, placing open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Need you..”

“Need me to what? Words, Honey, words.” He sucked and nipped at one spot directly under your collarbone, he knew it’d start some shit in the future but at this current moment he had you all to himself. He’d rather be a dead man than not mark you as his, hell he’d fucking carve it into your skin if you’d let him. He’d ask you about it later.

“Need you to fuck me..” You whispered, your skin turning pink at the confession and the lewdness of it all. Rhett wouldn’t be your first, you’d drunkenly hooked up with men before but it was a different kind of need to finally have sex with someone you’d been pining after.

“Was that so hard? I can do that for you. Take real good care of ya. Fuck you six ways to Sunday.” His words turning you an even pinker shade, you didn’t know he could say such dirty things but god if it wasn’t the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Both of your hats were thrown into the back seat as it became a race of who could get their jeans off the fastest, you’d win by a few seconds as your mobility wasn’t limited because of someone else sitting on top of you. Your jeans would soon join the hats in the back, tossed loosely back there to just get them out of the damn way. Sure it would’ve been easier to just fuck back there but the small cramped space of the drivers seat was spurring the both of you in a way you hadn’t before that it didn’t matter where you fucked. You just needed to fuck. Now.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this. ‘Bout you.” He confessed, combing his fingers through your hair before smashing your lips back together, giving you no time to think.

Kissing Rhett was nasty, messy, and you loved it. His mouth was on yours, making up for all the times he tried to but hadn’t been successful in kissing you. His hands were roaming your body, caressing the newly naked ass presented to him. He felt like he was fifteen years old ago, seeing a naked body and losing his mind. But he wasn’t fifteen and you weren’t naked, he was losing his mind at the thought of getting you naked. It’d have to wait because he’d become a murderer if anyone else saw you naked from this point on.

“Thought about you too. Your fingers and how they’d feel inside me, probably so much bigger than mine.” You confessed, taking breaths in between your words, staring at Rhett as he processed what you just told him.

“You are the hottest woman I have ever met, goddamnit Honey.” He groaned in response, sliding your panties to the slide and playing with your clit. “I’m gonna finger you for a second, just stretch you a bit and then I’m gonna fuck you. Okay?”

You shook your head yes and leaned your head against his shoulder as his middle finger slid inside of you. He twisted it occasionally, adding a bit of fun but never letting your orgasm build up. He wanted you to cum on his cock and not a moment before. He slowly added his ring finger to the mix, fucking into you slowly enough to stretch you and be not enough to get off. You wanted to cry when he removed his fingers, no longer feeling the fullness of his fingers, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with the tip of his cock.

“How bad do you want it?” He teased, pushing just the head in and pulling it back out. Making sure to never let more than his head go inside of you.

“Rhett please, need it. Need your cock, need you to fuck me..” You cried out into his shoulder, gasping loudly when he pushed the whole thing inside of you. “Holy fuckin’ shit..”

He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head, waiting just a few moments before he pulled all the way out and pushed himself all the way back inside of you.

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He grunted into your ear, slowly starting to move just a little bit faster. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours Rhett, shit, yours..”

He seemed satisfy with your answer and braced himself with one hand on the console and the over wrapped around you, fucking up into you like he wasn’t gonna see you again and this was your last night together. His thrusts were hard and deep, you’d felt a fullness you didn’t even know was possible until now, fast and rough. His soft grunts and groans were like music to your ears, adding to the warmth that was slowly building in your belly. The knot was slowly coming together and it was all the doing of Rhett Abbott.

“Shoulda done this ages ago, made you mine, made sure no one else touched you.” He rambled, words spilling out of his mouth at a speed you’d never heard him speak at. “Fuck, gonna make you Mrs. Rhett Abbott, shit baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ warm.”

“Gonna cum, Rhett I’m gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck…”

“I’m right behind you, baby.”

He quickly brought his hand down to your clit and pushed you over the edge he had you teetering on. Your orgasm milked the orgasm out of him as he fucked you through it, making sure not to change his motions until you moved his hand away from overstimulation. The windows had long fogged up, only lines from your hair moving against them were left unfogged. He relaxed completely in the seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Holy shit, Honey. Fuckin’ Hell on Heels.”

#maddies fics #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbot smut #rhett abbott #lewis pullman #outer range #outer range smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #lewis pullman smut

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footprintsinthesxnd · 3 months

Text

The Waves of Love

@blurredcolour hello I’m your giftee for @hbowardaily summer exchange. So after a lot of debating I chose your favourite MOTA character: John Egan. I’m always doubtful whether I capture John right and I feel like there are writers far better than myself who write him perfectly but I hope I have done him justice and I hope you enjoy this little fic of John Egan and his WAC wireless operator lover. Also thank you so much for being so patient with me after my first version had some technical difficulties.

September 8th 1943

Being friends with John Egan was something that had made Adeline’s life fuller than she could have ever imagined. Before joining to WAC and traveling to England she had never realised how sheltered and simple her life had been.

John Egan was the kind of man that fathers sheltered their daughters from. ‘He’s nothing but trouble,’ her father would have told her, and in truth she would have believed him. But that wasn’t the John she knew, her best friend who no matter what could make her smile. The same man who held her heart without even knowing it since her unit had arrived at Thorpe Abbott in July. She was part of the first unit of WAC women sent to support the 8th Air Force, and she thanked her lucky stars she was assiganed to the 100th.

The pub was loud and stuffy by the time Adeline had arrived. The late summer air had been thick and humid all day and despite her cool summer dress, she had built up a sweat on the bike ride over. She was glad to be out of her thick, brown WAC uniform after a stifling day listening to radio reports and transmitting messages to the aircraft around Thorpe Abbott.

Fanning herself, she smoothed down her curls before pushing open the large wooden door and stepping inside. A wall of smoke hit her and a ruckus of laughter met her ears. It would have been unusual should the pub have been quiet on a Friday evening but somehow she was surprised just how loud some of the men could be.

She stepped up to the bar, standing behind two airmen who were discussing a certain dark-haired broad sitting with her friends on the other side of the bar. Adeline tried to ignore the men’s comments. She understood they were a long way from home in a foreign country spending each moment in the air fighting for their lives, but some still took it a little too far.

“Can’t have a lady such as yourself drinking alone now, can I?”

And there he was, smiling down at her from where he leant against the thick wooden beam supporting the thatched roof. The cocky smile and raised eyebrow matched his signature expression that he always sent her way.

She shook her head, “I haven’t even got a drink yet. How can I be drinking on my own?” She gestured to her empty hands, ignoring the smirk that grew across the pilot's face. “And anyway, shouldn’t you be celebrating something…?”

John shook his head, a light blush covering his cheeks as he ignored her comment.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got you covered then.” He grasped her hand, leading her away from the bar despite her protest. John Egan always had a way of making her late to things, and tonight that would include her getting a drink.

He led her to a small table by the dark paned window and she tried to ignore the strips of masking tape that crossed the window, blocking her view.

Two glasses of whiskey sat on the table before them and Adeline took her seat, staring down into her drink.

“How did you know?” She gestured to the glass. Normally she would arrive with a group of other women from the base but John would make a beeline for her and she often didn’t see much of her friends after that.

John just shrugged, falling into the wooden chair opposite her and lighting up a cigarette.

“You always get the same drink. It’s not hard to guess,” a mischievous grin spread across his lips, “And besides, I want to celebrate my birthday with you, not watch you queuing for a drink all night.”

Adeline groaned, she knew the kind of ‘celebrating’ that John liked to do and it usually ended in trouble.

“Not tonight, John. I’ve had a really long day and I’m here to celebrate you becoming an old man.” She chuckled, squealing as he poked her side affectionately.

John, seemingly understanding that she wasn’t in the mood for getting into trouble, nodded slowly, his expression instantly softening. He shuffled his chair around to sit beside her, dark eyes watching her carefully. His expression reminded her of a young boy, waiting patiently for someone to tell him something important.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She didn’t really. The whole day had been so long and stressful that Adeline just wanted to forget all about it, but she knew John too well. He wasn’t going to relent until he knew what was bothering her.

“Well you know, Major Egan, you sure do like causing trouble,” she sent him a small smile, remembering the events of the afternoon. The room had been buzzing after a certain Major took a joy ride in a B17 with ‘radio silence’. She’d found the event rather humorous listening to John’s laughter coming over the radio, but the small chuckle that had slipped past her lips landed her with a mountain of paperwork from her superior officer. His words of ‘these are United States Air Force property’ rang in her ears.

She’d spent the last three hours, after her shift, should have ended typing up reports and correspondence at her desk.

John looked at her, a little confused, until an amused smirk spread across his lips. He now realised what Adeline had been talking about.

“Well what can I say,” John chuckled, sipping his drink thoughtfully, “I just like keeping you on your toes.”

John had rather enjoyed his afternoon, soaring over the countryside with his best friend Buck Cleven in tow. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to talk Buck into joining him and they’d both landed in a mountain of trouble which was the reason Buck wasn’t here celebrating his birthday, but it sure had been worth it. The only thing that would have made it better would have been Adeline by his side.

She rolled her eyes, remembering the way her superior officer had nearly had a stroke whilst trying to report the happenings on the Fort doing laps around the base. She had to admit that seeing the straight-laced officer falling apart due to John’s antics had been rather humorous.

“Well, I don’t think my senior officer would agree.”

John’s grin only grew wider, “Well, he needs to lighten up a little. The poor guy’s too uptight all the time, gotta give him a little excitement.”

Adeline rolled her eyes again, chuckling to herself. Picking up her glass of whiskey she raised it in the air, “To causing trouble!”

“I can definitely drink to that,” John laughed, clinking his glass with her own.

There was a familiar look that settled in John’s dark eyes that Adeline couldn’t quite place. It was a soft gaze that accompanied the gentle smile, and her heart only beat faster. It was so rare to see the infamous John Egan looking softly at someone that she always had to remind herself of all the other girls he’d occupied his time with, otherwise she might have found herself truly falling for him. That was the last thing she needed.

Having hit it off from the first moment they met, after John had apologised profusely for nearly knocking her off her bike, the pair had become inseparable. She never felt like she was competing with Buck to be John’s better half, but there was something about their relationship that just worked. She wasn’t sure when she first noticed the way they looked at each other, but it certainly dawned on her when he’d offered to drive her to the ops room for her shift. The next morning, he had done the same thing and John had repeated this every day since, every morning like clockwork.

“Were you at least impressed by my flying?”

He laughed, remembering how the officers had hit the deck when he’d ‘buzzed the tower’.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Major,” Adeline replied nonchalantly, sipping her whiskey and wincing as it burned her throat. This was the good stuff, then again John Egan never went cheap when it came to whiskey.

Chuckling, he threw his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder.

“Can’t even get a compliment on my birthday. One day I’ll find out what it takes to impress the infamous Lady Adeline.”

Adeline snorted at her new title, smiling up at him and losing herself in his dark eyes, “I’ll hold you to that, Major.”

He winked back at her, downing the rest of his whiskey before stretching his hand out to her.

She raised an eyebrow, “What do you want now?” She jested, allowing him to lead her away from the table.

“Can’t a guy dance with a beautiful woman on his birthday?” He spun her around in his arms, their faces inches away from each other. “Beside, there’s no one else I’d rather spend my evening with.”

…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……..

October 8th 1943

The day Buck Cleven’s Fort went down, Adeline knew that everything would change. As soon as the news reached her it was as though time had frozen, Adeline's heart plummeted. She knew John was in London. He’d been having a rough time of it and Harding thought it would be good for him to get away for a while. She could only imagine how he’d react when he found out.

Pushing herself from her desk she hurried from the building, ignoring the shouts of her senior officer. Her legs carried her to the hard stand where the remaining Forts were taxied. The crews looked exhausted. Broken. Defeated.

The image of their return brought her no comfort, not like they normally did. She’d lost count of how many times she’d counted the Forts back to base, celebrating as each plane touched down and waving at John as he boarded the truck to the briefing hut. He’d seek her out afterwards, telling her about the mission, the losses, everything. He confided in her and she’d always let him. It felt wrong to not have him returning now, especially when Buck wasn’t there either.

She flopped down into the grass, not bothered by the grass stains that would inevitably appear on her dark brown skirt. Her heart hurt at the loss of Buck Cleven. A large part of her life at Thorpe Abbott had been ripped away from her that day. Although she had never known him as well as she’d known John, he had become a constant around the base. You rarely saw one without the other, and even though John was safe in London it felt eerily unnerving without the two Bucks at Thorpe Abbott.

Adeline wasn’t a superstitious woman, but it hardly felt like a good omen. She could only hope now that John would return here in one piece, but after the news of losing his best friend, Adeline couldn’t be so sure.

…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……..

October 10th 1943

The words clung at the back of her throat, unable to escape as her heart stilled in her chest. Tight, compressed gasps escaped her lungs as she tried to control her emotions. It was no good, there was nothing that could stop the tears from escaping, cascading down her cheeks with no signs of stopping.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder and someone guided her from the room and into a plain office. She felt herself being pushed down into a dark, leather chair, the studs digging into her back but her whole body felt too numb to complain.

Adeline could feel the cool pressure of a glass of water being pressed firmly into her hand and the familiar face of her superior officer looked at her, his mouth moving so slowly and silently that Adeline wasn’t sure if she was dreaming.

The loud clatter of keys from the typewriters in the next room deafened any sensible thought she could have. The constant pounding and pinging drove her to the point of insanity and she wondered how much longer she could stay there.

Adeline had found herself outside the officer's hut in the early hours of the morning, tears in her eyes as she had begged him not to go. She knew it was no use, he had a job to do and he wanted more than anything to avenge the death of his best friend.

“Buck wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed for him, Johnny. Please don’t do this,” she’d cried, sobbing into the front of his life preserver, the rough fabric of his sheepskin jacket grazing her cheek.

“Doll, I have to do this,” John’s voice was strained as if he was fighting back his own tears. “You know I have to do this.”

“I know,” she cried, “But I wish you didn’t.”

She didn’t know if John had cried with her that morning but she knew he felt the same anxiety within his chest, eating away at him as they waited for the inevitable.

“Oh come on, Doll. You know I’m always careful,” John reached down quickly, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes and allowing his gaze to linger a little longer than usual. His dark eyes seemed to read the invisible expression on her face because his own softened, his moustache twitching and he bent down, pressing his lips against her flushed cheek. Adeline could feel her heartbeat quicken and only hoped that John couldn’t hear the way it pounded every time they met.

How could he be gone? It wasn’t possible. Not John Egan. He’d promised her, after everything with Buck, he'd promised to come back in one piece.

She was relieved from duties for the rest of the day, ‘until she got her head in the game’, she had been told. She couldn’t bear to sit listing to the static buzzing any longer. Her superior officer gave her a warning look, a bushy eyebrow raised as he watched her be led by one of the other wireless operators out of the building. If she’d been feeling up to it she’d have had some snide comment for him, but she remained silent, allowing herself to be led to the WAC Nissen hut.

As the door to the hut closed signalling that she was finally alone, Adeline lowered herself carefully onto the small, wooden chair beside her cot, legs shaking weakly beneath her. The tears she had tried her best to contain flowed swiftly down her cheeks, smudging her mascara beneath her eyes.

How could he be gone? Just like that. Erased from her life. For someone who had as much life in him as John Egan had, how could it be snuffed out so quickly and quietly, as if he was never there in the first place?

…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……..

February 1944

She wanted to write, she truly did, but she didn’t know what to say.

How could she put into words how she felt and send it to Germany for him? What would happen if he didn’t feel the same way?

The thought that she may never see him again made her realise just how much he had meant to her. The simple acts of kindness he had given her had filled her day-to-day existence with so much love. She missed the short jeep rides with him every morning. She missed the way his eyes always found hers across the airstrip as he returned from a mission. She missed the meetings in the pub, the way his arm had caressed her on their walk back to base. Yet she couldn’t find it in her to tell him how she truly felt.

The stack of unsent letters that rested in her bedside draw gathering dust told the story of her feelings towards him. The first few were from a concerned friend, asking after his health and welfare. The next few from someone who held him in high regard as their closest friend, dropping in a few more sentences that could have been taken from several perspectives. The most recent ones could have passed for a fiancée or wife, someone who loved him deeply and wanted him to return to their loving embrace. None of them left the bedside draw and saw the light of day.

With an exasperated sigh, Adeline ripped up the most recent letter, scrunching it into a tight ball and throwing it into the bin in the corner. No good could come of this.

What could she honestly write to someone stuck in a POW camp that could hold any sort of weight?

…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……..

May 1945

As the Fort roared above her head, Adeline couldn’t help the nervous energy that bubbled inside her, threatening to spill over in hysterical, happy laughter or even more hysterical tears. She had waited so long for this moment, but now it was finally here she seemed as though she was lost for words, fighting to recall something from all the letters she had written.

The Fort flew a circle over the base until it landed on the runway, drawing to a halt on the hard stand. Adeline had seen more Forts than she could count land at Thorpe Abbott over the last two years, but this time it was different.

She found her fingers digging painfully into the dark, wooden windowsill as she watched the ground crew encircle the Fort, helping a few figures emerge from the aircraft. Her eyes landed on the familiar swagger from one of them. She’d know that walk anywhere.

“Go on, go and see him.”

Adeline jumped, turning to glance over her shoulder at her superior officer, who simply gave a nod towards the door. Adeline nodded in thanks, a wide grin spreading across her lips as she flew through the door and down the steps onto the grass.

She nearly twisted her ankle in her haste but managed to catch herself before she stumbled to the floor. Wincing against the pain, she pushed forward. She’d have time to rest her sore ankle later, now she just needed to get to the Fort.

Her army-issued, brown, leather shoes slapping the ground with each step, pounding the tarmac as she ran. Adeline wished now that she’d grabbed one of the bicycles that had been propped against the ops rooms building, but it was too late for that.

She could feel her legs growing weaker as she stumbled over the uneven ground, cutting corners across the grassy patches to reach the Fort faster. Her heart pounded uncontrollably, winding her slightly with every breath at the thought of what might come next.

As his name fell from her lips one of the figures stopped, turning away from the others and falling quiet. From across the field, Adeline couldn’t make out the broad smile that grew across his face, she couldn’t make out his tired eyes shining in relief.

She did however see the way his legs stepped forward, breaking into a run. She followed suit, letting her own legs carry her unsteadily towards him.

“JOHN!” She shouted again, her lungs burning from the effort but her heart's desperate pounding forced her forward.

He didn’t shout in return, instead his arms flew around her body, lifting her off the floor and spinning her around him. Her legs flailed, kicking outwards, as she squealed in excitement.

Adeline felt so light, as if John were to let go of her then she might float away, but his tight grip remained firmly on her hips as he placed her down.

He grinned at her, the same damn grin that he used on her so many times before and that always made her tongue tied. His moustache twitching curiously at the corners. His face was thinner than she remembered, more gaunt and pale. His dark eyes seemed to tell the whole story as he looked down at her, eyelids sagging tiredly.

“Well I’m glad someone’s happy to see me,” he chuckled, giving her hands a quick squeeze as he stepped back. “Look at you, just as beautiful as ever.”

Adeline shook her head, cheeks blushing a dark rouge as they always did when he complimented her, and she loved it. For a moment the anxiety that had been eating away at her seemed to disappear until it swooped back, threatening to spill forth. If she didn’t tell him soon she thought she might never tell him.

“John, I need to tell you something,” she sighed, pulling him away from him. She tried to ignore the way his lips dropped a little, moustache dropping and his sparkling eyes dimmed. He suddenly looked very serious, far older than his years and Adeline couldn’t help but feel guilty for changing his jovial mood so quickly.

She gripped his hand, leading him away from any prying eyes and towards the WAC Nissen hut that lay away from the runway. The short walk was tortuous, painfully silent and damn right depressing for both involved. Adeline wished more than anything in that moment that she was better with words and could crack a joke to put them both at ease, but alas she remained silent.

She hopped up the step quickly, throwing open the hut door. She was thankful that her fellow wireless operators were on shift and they had the hut to themselves.

John stood on the doorsteps, peering into the hut that he knew was forbidden territory.

“Adeline, I can’t go in there.” There was a sadness hidden in his voice that she’d never heard before. The old John would have jumped at the chance of being smuggled into the women’s Nissen hut and she had always been adamant to say goodnight to him on the doorstep.

Adeline hurried forward, grasping his hand and dragging him inside before someone spotted them, or she lost her nerve.

John’s eyes scanned the hut curiously, observing the name written above each bed until he found Adeline’s. Her living space was small, a simple cot, a small bedside draw that she shared with the girl beside her. There were two pictures beside her bed, one of her family, and the other took John by surprise.

He picked up the silver rimmed frame, his thumb brushing over the smiling faces before him. He barely recognised himself. He looked so young. His bright, youthful face grinned back at him, his arm draped over Adeline’s shoulder as she grinned up at him. Buck had taken the photo of them on the evening in the pub after their first Bremen mission.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he placed the frame back beside the bed, his eyes soon finding Adeline’s watching him worriedly.

“John, I need to tell you something,” she repeated again, hoping that if she started at the beginning that everything she wanted to say would fall into place.

John gave her a strained grin, “You already told me that part, Doll.”

“Right,” she fumbled, tugged at the cuff of her brown Class A uniform. “Right. It’s something I should have told you a long time ago. I guess I never truly realised until you were gone, and I didn’t feel that it was something I could just put into a letter.”

John’s forehead creased slightly, but his face remained calm, emotionless, and the anxiety in Adeline’s chest only grew. If John could give her some sort of reassurance to continue then she might make it through the speech, but he didn’t.

“Well, you see, we’ve always been friends, good friends in fact, and while I hold our friendship very dear…”

“Adeline,” John's voice was firm and it caused Adeline’s mouth to slam shut in a sharp breath. John had never been one for formalities with her, sure he knew her name but he had always used nicknames. To hear her God given name spring from his lips only made the situation worse.

“Adeline, if you’re here to tell me that you’ve met someone then let’s stop this right here. You know I’ve always cared for you, more than I ever let on really. I wish I could have told you sooner, but while I was away it never felt like the right time to spring that kind of information on you.” John took a deep breath, his hand moving to cup Adeline’s shocked face.

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m happy you’ve met someone that obviously makes you happy and I don’t intend to stand in the way of that. As soon as I can I’ll be heading back to the States for Buck’s wedding and I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

Adeline wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard John speaking in such a heartfelt way, but the notion caused her to freeze, mouth agape as she gasped for air like a fish out of water. How could this conversation have gone in the completely opposite direction to what she had intended?

“What!” She blurted out, forgetting all the ladylike manners that her mother instilled in her as a young girl. “I…I mean, I haven’t… I haven’t found anyone. There isn’t anyone to find, the man I love is already here in front of me,” she sighed. “I’ve just been too scared to tell him.”

Now this was something John did understand.

Adeline turned away, digging her hand into the draw of her bedside table, and fishing out a stack of letters. She handed them to John, a faint smile on her lips.

John ran his thumb over the stack. There must have been at least twenty letters there, all written in Adeline’s delicate hand. His face broke into an uncontrollable grin when he saw the name on the envelope:

Major J. C. Egan

His eyes found Adeline’s and he watched as faint tears began trickling down her rosy cheeks. She had written all of these to him and never sent them. Why? How could he have been so blind to see that what he’d carved all those lonely nights in Stalag Luft was right in front of him the whole time?

John bit his lip. He’d always been considered quite the ladies man with the ability to flirt with anyone, but Adeline was different. She was special and he didn’t want to mess this up.

Deciding that words wouldn’t suffice, he stepped forward, one hand wrapping around the back of her head while his other gripped her hip, pulling her to his chest.

Without missing a beat he pressed his lips firmly to hers, trying to convey all the love, hurt and desperation he’d been bottling up for the last two years. John felt Adeline gasp into his mouth before settling in his arms, her own hands wrapping around his neck, wracking through his dark locks.

Adeline had never felt more alive than she did encased in John’s arms. It was a moment she had dreamed of for so many years that now it was coming to pass she wasn’t sure if it was even real.

Pulling back, her bright eyes glanced up at John, her breath leaving her lips in short gasps as her brain took its time catching up.

He smirked mischievously, tucking a loose strand of Adeline’s hair away from her face.

“I knew I was a good kisser, but I’ve never made a girl speechless before.”

Adeline chuckled, smacking her hand playfully against his chest, “Trust you to ruin the moment, Major.” There was the old John back.

“Well, I’ve waited long enough to try that. You have no idea how distracting your voice is over the radio. Damn!” John swooned dramatically, sweeping Adeline up into his arms. She squealed, smacking him playfully again.

“Can I take you out sometime, Adeline?” John cleared his throat, cocking a dark eyebrow at her, waiting patiently but already knowing what her answer would be.

Adeline rubbed her chin thoughtfully, trying to remain serious with her body pressed against the Major. “Well, my schedule is quite busy… but I’m sure I’ll find time.” She jested, cupping his cheek fondly. “But no more disappearing, Major. I don’t think I could survive losing you again.”

“Cross my heart, Doll.”

…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……..

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @beebeechaos @forsythiagalt @prettyinlimegreenboots @blueberry-ovaries

#masters of the air #hbo war #john egan #Bucky Egan #john bucky egan #Callum turner #hbowardailysummerexchange #hbowardaily

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turnnblurb · 4 months

Text

You’re The One I Want

pairing - Rhett Abbott x OC (Odelia Graves)

wc - 4k

warnings - mentions of death, talks of sex, tobacco use, emotional abuse, religion, eventual smut

synopsis - Odelia Graves has never been the first pick in anything until she rekindles her relationship with her childhood friend Rhett Abbott.

notes - I am such a sucker for childhood friends to strangers to lovers. Thank you for reading!!! Love you, mean it!!

Loneliness was a common word around Amelia County. Uttered expression of it would earn someone a polite, but disingenuous, bless your heart. It was an emotion that Odelia Graves felt more often than not.

She found it hard to recall a moment in her life that was inhabited by human nature and warmth, those were buried only in the years before her mother’s passing. Bless your hearts.

Those three words were thrown at the Graves sisters for years. Eventually, the population of Wabang found themselves too enchanted with their own indulgences to bless the hearts of the grieving family any longer.

The oldest Graves, Anna Mae, was a degreed nurse at Wabang General. Sophisticated and damn good with a needle and stitch, what did she need the blessings for? Layla, the second born, seemed to be having her fun with her bull riders and bonfires. Nothing like a distraction to swallow down the big pill of grief. The youngest, Daisy, had to be the most well-mannered sixteen year old girl to grace the small town. No blessings needed there.

Odelia fit somewhere in there, she herself just wasn’t sure where. Third born, not exactly the middle, but not first or last. It was more beneficial to the town for them to disregard the daughter that was a spitting image of her slain mother. Better to forget the unsolved case than to dwell on how her daughter’s amber red hair matched her own at that age.

She was sure that if her father could still open his eyes he would even look right through her.

Earl Graves, once the best nine-ball shooter to step foot into The Handsome Gambler, was now being kept alive with machinery on the second floor of the family’s home. Odelia didn’t truly believe someone could be killed by heartbreak before her mother’s death. She knew now that if the sheriff hadn’t knocked on their door into the late hours of the night to personally deliver the dreadful news, her father would be tending to their cattle. Not a lifeless bag of bones laying in a hospice bed that insurance refused to cover.

So, with her sisters’ endeavors and family ranch to upkeep, Odelia did find herself awfully, terribly lonely.

Her time was spent treating ill hooves, harvesting, herding, delivering hen eggs, and working on other ranches when time allowed. Anna Mae would hand her a measly check every month. A meek $200 to be spent strictly on whatever was needed to keep the ranch from plummeting into the ground.

It was her duty, everything seemed to be her damned duty. She didn’t mind looking after Daisy. In fact, she cherished it. At times it seemed to be the only thing holding her together. She would bring her to school in the morning when she woke up too late to catch the bus. Laugh and blush with her over Dean Martin movies and a homemade Digiorno's pizza. Braid her hair for when they went riding together. Nurturing the youngest of the Graves was a glimpse into a life she once so desperately wanted.

Like most things she once believed in, the concept of love had been altered by the nasty realities of life. The boys stopped looking to her for entertainment when their voices dropped and their visions were clouded by lust. Layla had straighter hair and wider hips around the same time this occurred. Even the youngest Abbott, whom Odelia was so desperately in love with at the age of thirteen, had grown into his own teenage ways. It didn’t take long for her to realize that he only started coming over when Layla was drinking sweet tea on the front porch in one of her sundresses.

Even now at twenty-three, him at twenty-four, she had enough sense to know that there was nothing there for him within her scrawny figure and purple under eyes. Had enough sense to know that there was nothing there for anyone’s longing.

His Ma had always loved Odelia. Greeting her with open arms and rushing her to their dinner table to stuff her full of the sweet treats he had minutes before been denied. Begging him to go check up on her when things headed south. Things had changed. Odelia ran a bit colder from what she did when she was younger, but Cecilia fed and doted over her all the same.

When Perry’s girl, Rebecca, turned up missing it got harder for Odelia to make the weekly egg delivery. She nearly couldn’t bring herself to witness the ache within the house that once and still did echoed in her own. But, it was her duty. Her duty to muffle the selfish pain in order to provide the Abbott family their order of a dozen eggs. They had their own coop, but Royal insisted nonetheless. Telling her each time that her hens had the best eggs in Wabang. Not telling her that he once witnessed her walking from the mailbox with a stack of bills and tears in her eyes when he was working on the fence in the north pasture.

If any of the Abbott’s truly loved the girl, it was Amy. She just had to jump up and down in joy on the front porch when she saw that green bronco pull into the drive every Sunday. Greeting Odelia with a tighter hug each time. Odelia would have to tuck the girl’s head in a little longer so as to not let her see the tears pooling in her hazel eyes. Perry saw. He saw them fall a few times too after Rebecca had gone missing.

Amy hadn’t any verbal clue that Odelia had lost her mom, but the girl wondered sometimes if the younger one somehow felt it within her.

Their relationship even softened a certain cowboy’s gruff heart. He’d catch some moments from the dining table at breakfast. Go along with Amy’s pleas to ride with him out to the north pasture when there was work needing tending to at the fence. She’d call for her, and he would lift her over barbed wire when she met them. Silently praying that a hug for her from his niece would allow her at least one good moment in her day.

He never meant to become such a stranger to Odelia. But, by the time he was long and done with her sister it had already been too late. He was no good at comfort. Nothing he could ever say would make her situation any better, so he chose silence. And she did too. He wasn’t proud of it. He especially wasn’t proud of how he stood behind that group of guys back in school. Hands in his pockets when they pointed a cruel joke at Odelia when they should’ve been around their necks. At that age the only way he knew of getting into the riding crowd was to be uncomfortably stuck up the asses of ignorant teenage boys.

He still shivers when he thinks about what his Ma would do to him if she knew he were the reason she didn’t come around for months. Had her worried sick, riding out to Odelia’s house on the third week. She didn’t tell her the truth, and he never took her for much of a liar. He hears from his mom that Cash, her horse, just had a bad hoof. He knows he saw Odelia and Cash that same morning when he was driving out to the feed store.

He refused to hardly lay eyes on Layla anymore. Not even when she was practically begging him to fuck her under the stands at the Rodeo. He finds himself thinking of Odelia more often than he’d like to admit to anyone. The red halo around her head, the scar on her face from when she would climb through barbed wire to get to his house as a child, the night she caught him sneaking into Layla’s room. He still can’t decide what emotion she held that night, but he thinks it oughta been betrayal.

Not that he had been aware of her tortuous crush on him. He had been oblivious to her loving tendencies at the age of fourteen. How she would shove one of his Ma’s apple fritters into her pocket, giving it to him when they were no longer under Cecilia’s gaze. Always being the first one to check his body for injury when he took a stumble. Still, he could only compare those actions to those of a sister he never had.

While Odelia had found him as a friend at that age, she still remained shy around him. Unlike Layla with her winks and lifting of her skirt in his presence. He had just always figured that Odelia didn’t feel as close to him as he did to her. So, he found a new and different type of friend in her older sister. Luke Tillerson lost his virginity at fourteen, why shouldn’t he be capable of doing that?

He had unintentionally done to Odelia what others had been doing her whole life. Not choosing her.

Sunday comes around quicker than it usually does. She’s not sure if that is due to dread or anticipation. Possibly both.

Her days tend to blur when there is more work to be done, but she knows it’s Sunday because she is awoken by the smell of biscuits and the sound of singing from the kitchen. It had become a routine for Daisy to make breakfast on the holy day, singing hymns while she flipped eggs. Odelia had lost her faith a long time ago, and figured her baby sister would too when she came of age. Sure enough when Odelia trudged into the kitchen with one sock a little lower than the other, Daisy was wearing her church dress.

“Morning Odie,” The girl said through a hum. “How’d you sleep?”

“Same as always, lying down.” Odelia stole a biscuit that hadn’t been thrown into gravy from the pan. Earning her a slap with the towel and her favorite teen a kiss on the cheek. “What about you, hun?”

“I slept okay, I had a silly dream.” Daisy spoke as she moved the food to the small dining room table, it had shrunk when Anna moved out and Layla started coming home late into the night, or really not at all. They ate while sharing their dreams.

It wasn’t long until it was time to get in the truck and pay the Abbott’s their usual Sunday morning visit. Odelia to deliver the eggs, and Daisy to catch a ride to church. When they pulled in Amy had been waiting on the porch with a large smile on her face like always.

“Odie, Odie! Grandma, Odie is here!” It was a call that Odelia didn’t think she could ever tire from hearing. Amy had rushed over to her arms immediately. Good thing she had already passed the eggs over to her sister.

“Goodmorning sunshine, what’s got you up so early?” Odelia asked each time just to hear the answer.

“I’ve been waiting on my best friend.” Amy’s wide grin turned into a fake frown, “But, now that she’s here Grandma is gonna make me go to church.”

“Don’t worry, bug.” Odelia leant down to press a kiss to the girls crown, “I know just the person to go with you.”

As if on queue, Amy noticed Daisy’s presence and rushed over to give her a hug. Odelia swiftly grabbed the eggs from her sister’s hands to avoid a mess, and let the two girls follow her as she made her way up the porch. She knocked even though the family was already made well aware of her arrival. She heard a call for her from inside the house and let herself, and the two girls in.

“Oh, bless you. We just ran out.” Cecilia greeted her in the kitchen, taking the eggs from her hands and placing a kiss to her cheek. The dining table held an unfamiliar sight. All three Abbott men sat down waiting for their breakfast, something that typically occurred on special occasions.

“Mornin’ Odelia,” Royal didn’t look up from the morning paper as he greeted her, she didn’t mind one bit. They had an established relationship. Him helping her out when she needed it. Her pretending not to notice that he was anything more than a gruff old grandpa. The small smiles they shared every now and then were enough for her to know that he saw her, and enough for him to know that she was thankful for it.

Perry gave Odelia a slight wave, knowing that if he didn’t he’d have his daughter to answer to. Rhett sat stoic, seeming to pause at Odelia’s arrival. He rested his eyes on her own as a form of greeting, nodding at her gently to which she returned. His hat was on its hook. Hair unruly from a restless sleep. It seemed that all of them were in their church clothes, what a strange sight.

“Is today a holiday?” Odelia muttered outloud with a wrinkled forehead, louder than she meant to.

“Nope.” Cecilia gave her eggs a break on the stove before placing her hands on her hips and turning to Odelia. “Told them I wouldn’t cook their supper for a week. Equally dire.”

A gasp from Amy had Odelia regretting saying those words a little too loud.

“Please come Odie!” Amy looked up to her with her hands wrapped in one another, a begging motion as if Odelia held the name she was baptized under.

“Oh, I don’t know bug. I’m not necessarily in my Sunday best.” She huffed, looking down at her dirty jeans and Carhart jacket. Odie looked at the pout fall upon Amy’s face.

“Even Uncle Rhett is coming! He never comes to church.” Both Amy and Odelia’s eyes shot up to the younger Abbott, who just shrugged under the attention.

“You’ve still got…” Cecilia looked to her wrist, “45 minutes to change. We can meet you there if you need more than ‘at.”

It seemed like everyone’s eyes were on her, awaiting an answer. Odelia hadn’t stepped foot into the church in nearly seven years, not since her mother’s funeral. She gave her cross necklace to Daisy on her 16th birthday.

“Fine, but I’m buying lunch.” Odelia looked back at Cecilia pointedly until her eyes were drawn to Royal by the quiet chuckle leaving his body.

“Like we would ever let you drop a penny on us. Go get dressed, girl.” He waved her off with the Stetson in his hand. As she turned to give Amy and Daisy quick hugs she heard the unforgivable sound of a wooden chair scraping against ceramic. She didn’t turn to see which one of the boys had stood up.

Odelia didn’t have time to register the heat behind her as Rhett grabbed his hat and pushed the door open for her. Her walking past him as he softly spoke a ‘Good Morning’, eyes looking right into hers.

It’s just a church. It’s just a church. It’s just a church.

A mantra Odelia replayed in her head as she drove to the white building blessed by God in ways she never had been. The mantra doubled in speed as she parked her bronco. She spotted Daisy helping little Abbott out of Royal’s tall truck, she had no time to chicken out because Amy had already started running over. The sons had drove separately, but had already arrived as well. There was no out.

It didn’t take her forty five minutes to change, only twenty to fix the mess of amber curls under her hat and pull one of her old sundresses out of the closet she hadn’t touched in years. Ten to check on her father. Another ten to sit in the drivers seat and convince herself that she wouldn’t burn up upon entering the double doors. At least she impressed Amy with her appearance.

“You look like a princess.” The nine year old even opened the door for her to get out of the truck. Showing Odelia more respect than any man probably had ever in her life. Before she knew it Amy began dragging her by the wrist to show everyone, hardly giving Odelia time to shut her driver door

“I remember that dress!” Daisy pulled on the sleeves of it, before patting down the wrinkles Odelia couldn’t care to get out. Always the perfectionist. With all eyes on her she blushed profusely, cursing her genes as she felt her skin burn with embarrassment. She also felt the burning stare of a certain blue pair of eyes.

“‘S probably the nicest one I own.” Odelia looked down at herself. There were a few tears in the dress, and she couldn’t stand the way it was just low enough for everyone to see the freckles on her chest. She didn’t know of any princess that looked like this.

“Oh angel, you look wonderful,” Cecilia gently rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Rhe—”

“You look beautiful.” The cowboy’s jaw was clenched around the dip in his mouth. Even though Odelia knew he had only said it for his mother’s ears, she felt her heart jump only slightly. Only slightly.

“Thank you, Rhett.” She couldn’t meet his eyes when she said it, not wanting to see the roll of them. Not wanting to know that he didn’t mean it.

If Odelia had looked she wouldn’t have missed the softening of his eyes as they scanned her flushing body. As they both dragged their attention to anything besides each other, both became ignorant to the beaming smile on Amy’s face as she looked between them.

The congregation had seemed happy enough to see her. Pulling her into polite hugs and intruding questions about her whereabouts. She was being pestered and prodded by seventy year old Lou Ann Williams when she caught the Abbott’s and her sister standing on the second to last pew. So much for looking out for her.

She dismissed her conversation with the woman as politely as she could, pointing to the pew and smiling as she walked away. The bench was hardly long enough to hold the group of them, Royal at one end and Daisy at the other. It seemed there was only enough room for her to squeeze between Rhett and Amy. Great.

Royal stepped out upon her return, making way for her to squeeze right in. Getting past Cecilia’s small stature was no trouble. Perry leaned backwards an awful bit to let the girl through. When Odelia got to Rhett she had nearly made up her mind of turning back around to go sit with Lou Ann.

It was no secret that with age and riding bulls the younger Abbott had acquired himself quite the build. His chest poked out with his straightened back, and his height was nothing but intimidating. The smell of leather and tobacco dizzied her before she stepped in front of him. She decided that rubbing her ass on him to get by wouldn’t be so appropriate in the middle of a church. She excused herself as their chests touched, clearly taking no example from his brother on letting a lady through. His eyes flickered to hers for a brief second, but it might have been longer. Odelia had no clue.

“Sorry.” She whispered, not missing the quiet swallow of spit she got in return. She had made it to her spot, but at what cost.

She sat through the sermon. A full hour of Rhett’s denim knee touching her’s, it seems he was given just enough space to man spread. It was harder to ignore that than the shared giggles between Daisy and little Amy, who was all too happy with her conniving actions.

After final prayer had concluded, the group shuffled out the same way they shuffled in. Minus Odelia being a mere inch from meeting her hips with Rhett’s.

The sun had found it’s place in the middle of the sky, making the Wyoming fall feel that much warmer. Which made it that much easier for Odelia to conceal her blushing cheeks when she caught those blue eyes on her face.

“Meeting at the diner, Odie.” Cecilia rushed, wanting to beat the crowd.

“I’d love to, but I really gotta get home.” Odelia’s nose scrunched. “‘Ave been putting off moving the cattle for days now.”

“Nonsense, no work on the lord’s day. Rhett will help you tomorrow morning.” She turned to the truck before the girl could so much as get another word out.

“Ma—”

“Rhett Abbott. If your father doesn’t even move cattle alone what makes you think Odie should.” Cecilia turned to her son with a look that should’ve made thunder roll out of the clouds.

“I’ve done it before, Cecilia. It’s no problem, really.” Odelia raised her hands and waved both of them off, but the mother was too caught up in staring down her son to notice. Rhett’s eyes were on her though, the longer he looked at her the more he started to forget about what the hell he even had to do on a Monday morning.

“I’ll be there at 7.” His words pushed Odelia’s hands down back to her sides. All she could do was shake her head at him. Cecilia was quick to turn back and point at her next.

“You need to learn how to accept help, missy,” then back to Rhett. “And, you need to prioritize what really matters.”

What really matters.

“Yes Ma’am.” Odelia couldn’t figure out for the life of her why Rhett’s eyes never left her face.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #lewis pullman #bob floyd #outer range #perry abbott #royal abbott #fan fiction #outer range fanfiction

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 6 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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