#lewis pullman drabble

[sebsxphia]

husband bob who fingers his wife so hard she squirts and his wedding ring slides off 😂

(he makes her lick it clean after)

￫ authors notes: omg please, my dear anon! i giggled so hard, i love this so much! 🤭

￫ warnings: sex and squirting.

giggly sex with bob is not uncommon. as much as he can be mean dom bob, he’s also the most loving, soft and romantic lover you’ve ever met. on this particular occasion, he just wanted to finger his pretty little wife and have them squirt over his fingers before bed. he loves seeing you writhing with pleasure (from himself) more than anything.

as you reach your high and come over his fingers with dripping squirts and loud whines, bob coaxes you through it as he always does. “there’s my good girl. that’s it, keep goin’, darlin’. my pretty little wife is so good for me, o— oh—”

he watches with wide eyes from behind his glasses as his wedding ring slides off and falls onto the soaked towel below you. he continues to move his fingers inside of you and lets you ride out your continual high, but his lips have curled up into a small smile and he’s trying his hardest to hold back a small laugh.

as your eyes flutter open and shut, you catch sight of your husbands expressions and between heaving breaths, you pant out, “w— what? what is it?”

bob shakes his head, still with the twitching grin on his lips. “nothing, my darlin’. don’t worry, you’re doin’ so good for me, baby.”

“bobby!” you blurt out again, now with a curious expression forming.

his head drops and he finally lets out a laugh as he admits what’s just occurred. “you squirted so hard that my wedding ring fell off.”

you clasp your hand over your mouth and let out a bubble of giggles. bob lifts his head up, with bubbling laughter also coming from himself. his wedding ring is pinched between his fingers, with his chest flushed and rosy red up-to his cheeks. he leans over you to place a kiss to your lips, muffling your paired amusement ever so slightly.

“come ‘ere.” he breaks the kiss and presses his wedding ring to your lips. your tongue instinctively wraps around the warm and damp ring, occasionally letting yourself lick his fingers clean. “good girl. that’s my pretty little wife.” bob presses a soft kiss to your nose with a beaming smile still.

[bradshawsbaby]

I just always think about Bob reading to your class and the kids living him and asking when he can come back

Oh my gosh, yes, the thought of Bob Floyd surrounded by a bunch of tiny faces looking up at him with rapt, awed attention is enough to make my ovaries burst. But, as a middle school teacher, I raise you that there’s no greater compliment than having cranky middle schoolers think you’re cool—especially if Bob was nervous to come visit them in the first place 🤭

“Guess who asked about you today,” you announce with a knowing smirk as you stroll into the kitchen, placing your lunch bag on the counter and dropping your reusable water bottle into the sink before making your way over to where your boyfriend is sitting at the kitchen island eating a sandwich, and placing a big kiss on his cheek. You notice, with a smile, that an identical sandwich is already sitting on a plate beside him, ready for you.

You love the days when Bob’s shift on base ends early and he gets home from work right around the same time you do. Judging by the fact that he’s already changed into a white t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants, not to mention the late lunch he prepared, he’s been home for a while already.

Bob takes a moment to swallow a sandwich bite, his blue eyes thoughtful behind the large frames of his glasses as he considers. “Um, your mom?” he guesses with a sheepish grin.

You laugh at his response, mentally conceding that it is a fair one as you plop down onto the island stool beside him. He knows you always call your mom on your drive home from work.

“No, but good guess,” you tease, reaching out for a Gold Fish cracker and popping it into your mouth. You love this man for never making fun of your obsession with your favorite childhood snack.

“Hmmm,” Bob murmurs, scratching his chin as he considers. “Mrs. Johnson? I promise I’m going to mow her lawn this weekend,” he says quickly, referring to your elderly, widowed neighbor a couple houses down.

“No, not her either,” you tell him, shaking your head with a grin, your eyes sparkling as you take a bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, I give up,” he sighs dramatically, grinning as he rests one large, calloused hand on your upper thigh. “Who?”

“My kids!” you burst out gleefully, giggling behind your hand at Bob’s stunned expression. “They already want to know when you’re going to be back—not if, when.”

“Really?” Bob gapes. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if you had told him that the president had called to let him know he was being awarded the Navy Cross.

Earlier this week, you had finally managed to convince Bob to come give a talk to your 8th graders about what it’s like being a Navy pilot and working for TOPGUN. You were currently teaching your unit on World War II and the kids had been fascinated by a documentary you’d shown them about fighter pilots from the 40s. The fact that your boyfriend also had a great love of naval history, in addition to being a TOPGUN graduate himself, made him the perfect candidate to come talk to your class.

Bob had been extremely nervous about the whole thing. Middle school had been a terrible experience for him, and you’d quickly learned that though he could keep his composure when flying life-threatening military missions, he was terrified at the prospect of speaking in front of a bunch of prepubescent kids.

You hadn’t told your students Bob was your boyfriend, figuring it was good if they had one less thing to comment on when he came to visit.

“Of course, really,” you beam, running your fingers through his honey-colored hair as you lean in to nuzzle your nose against his. “Your talk was amazing. Trust me, I’ve never seen those kids so quiet and focused before in my life. I’m actually kind of jealous,” you laugh.

Bob stammers slightly in response, his cheeks turning red as he shoves his glasses back up his nose.

“Right at the start of my lesson today, they started asking, ‘When is the Navy dude with the glasses coming back? He was so cool!’” you continue with a wide grin.

“Wow. Definitely never imagined a middle schooler calling me cool,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair shyly. You know that he hates having so much attention on him.

“Well you are,” you say softly, resting your hand over his. “You’re the coolest guy I know, Bob Floyd.”

Bob smiles widely, his blue eyes twinkling as he ducks his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Maybe I could arrange to have your class come visit us on North Island,” he murmurs softly, pecking the corner of your mouth with tender affection.

Bouncing up and down on your stool excitedly, you throw your arms around him and squeeze him tightly. “That would be amazing! See? Coolest guy around.”

[ghxst-heart]

ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ ─ ʀʜᴇᴛᴛ ᴀʙʙᴏᴛᴛ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rhett wasn’t a religious man; he hadn’t been for a long time.  Still, he went to church with his family every Sunday and kept his eyes trained on the pulpit.  His mother thought that he was finally taking in what Pastor Simon said to heart, but only one thing could have the youngest Abbott so entranced; the preacher’s daughter that dutifully sat in the front row, every Sunday. ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 18+, MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol and hangovers, swearing, use of gendered pet names (pretty girl, angel, darling), descriptions of sexual acts in a church, brief description of male masturbation, semi-public sex, slight size kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex (p in v; wrap it before you tap it), creampie, if I missed anything, please let me know, this is my first time posting smut haha ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪɴғᴏ: Pronouns used are She/Her/Hers, AFAB!Reader, beginnings of a FWB relationship between Rhett and Reader. ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: Fem!Reader, Romantic!Reader X Rhett Abbott ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ: MINORS DNI!! My blog is strictly 18+!! Any minors or ageless/blank blogs interacting with my fics or my blog will be blocked (and, yes, I do check). I can't stop you from reading my fics, but I can stop you from accessing my fics if my boundaries aren't respected. Your media consumption is your own responsibility, just as it is mine regarding what I post. Please tread thoughtfully and carefully, and keep yourselves happy, healthy, and safe.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The air in the sanctuary was thick as Pastor Simon droned through his sermon, pacing the length of the pulpit with his bible clutched tightly in his old hands.  His voice boomed through the small space, echoing off the wood-paneled walls and resounding in Rhett’s ears as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head.  His Stetson hung low over his forehead, trying to shield his sensitive blue eyes from the blinding morning light seeping through the windows.  His hangovers were never this intense; either he had drunk too much the previous night, or Pastor Simon’s voice was so boring that it was causing him physical pain.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett felt a harsh pinch on his thigh, and he flinched, ready to snap at whoever bothered him, but he quickly realized that it was his mother silently reminding him to stay awake.  His mouth fell into a sarcastic sneer before he recovered and offered his mother a firm nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile to appease her.  Cecilia frowned, and he fought against a whiney comment, instead opting for a quiet grumble as he sat up straight in his chair.  He gave her a pointed look and removed his Stetson from his head, and she hummed in approval, pleased that he had taken her silent direction.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett hadn’t thought that his silent squabble had earned anyone’s attention, but he knew he had been caught when his eyes met the pastor’s daughter’s gaze across the room.  (Y/N) had turned her head over her shoulder, a small, amused smile on her face as she watched Cecilia scold Rhett as if he were five years old again.  Rhett readjusted in his seat, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he felt the tips of his ears begin to burn with embarrassment under her stare.  (Y/N)’s head tilted slightly as if she were asking him a question, but before he could think of an answer to a question he didn’t know, she returned her attention to the pulpit, nodding along with her father’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man kept his eyes on (Y/N) as she gathered her hair in her hands and let the strands settle over one shoulder, exposing her neck to his eyes.  Her fingertips grazed her skin, nails lightly scratching the base of her throat before she dropped her hand to her lap again.  Her chin tilted up, extending her neck and stretching her muscles before she relaxed, dropping her chin so she could read the bible resting over her knees.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The way that Rhett and (Y/N) were seated gave them direct views of one another, and Rhett could see most of her body.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles, relaxed against the seat of her chair.  Her skirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.  She mindlessly toyed with the hem, pulling it higher and higher up her leg.  Rhett thickly swallowed, letting his mind swim with sinful thoughts of marking up her legs, littering them with pretty purple bruises and love bites.  He thought of kneading the soft flesh with his calloused hands, relishing in the goosebumps he would leave behind, and how the plush fat would feel wrapped around his head, muffling his hearing so he’d only just barely hear the beautiful noises he would draw out of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was thrown from his thoughts when (Y/N) suddenly readjusted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and swiveling her body, so she was sitting sideways on the chair.  He panicked, body flushing with embarrassment as his eyes flashed up to her face, finding that she was already staring at him.  He had been caught staring at her legs, his mind running rampant with fantasies.  (Y/N) grinned, her teeth chewing on her lip as she let her eyes wander over Rhett’s body before she looked at the pulpit once more, pretending as if she hadn’t exposed Rhett’s shamelessness in checking her out.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) had always been an interesting woman.  She was the epitome of a pastor’s daughter.  She attended church every Sunday, helped out in the daycare on weekdays, was active in the Women’s Group, and helped plan fundraising events for families in the congregation that needed extra funds.  She never did anything wrong, anything sinful, and always said the nicest things with a bright smile on her face.  She wore conservative clothes, nothing too tight or revealing, and her face was always cleared of heavy makeup, giving her such an innocent look with lightly coated lashes, soft rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.  But Rhett had always thought there was something more just underneath the surface.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They had grown up together, going through elementary to high school in the same classes.  While Rhett grew rebellious and ambitious to achieve fame as a bull rider, (Y/N) remained the sweet, innocent girl that was content to live her life in Wabang as the pastor’s daughter.  By graduation, they were nothing more than strangers to one another, their reputations landing them on different ends of Wabang High’s social stratosphere.  But that didn’t stop Rhett from watching her as she led the congregation in song or served food at the church’s monthly luncheon, blushing when she’d catch his eye or muttering an excuse to leave before his stomach would lurch with a delicious, yet sometimes overwhelming, fluttery feeling.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was too young and stupid to realize what his longing looks and flustered words around her meant.  He was too naive to understand that his nerves and the funny feeling in his stomach meant more than just a childhood crush.  For years, the youngest Abbott oftentimes tried to convince himself that he was just imagining the lingering stares or the suggestive brushing of her fingertips against him when she passed him.  He tried to brush it off as his darkest fantasies trying to turn polite glances and innocent touches into something more, his mind playing cruel tricks on him in place of his lonesome nights.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎But, that was before they grew up.  Now, after being in the world and experiencing real attraction, real lust, he was convinced that it was something more.  He was convinced that (Y/N) knew what she was doing and that she was purposeful in how she looked at him or placed her hand over his when handing him his food at the luncheons.  He was certain now that he wasn’t imagining things when she smirked and turned away, continuing to innocently play with her skirt and show Rhett more and more of her skin after she’d caught him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The idea went straight to his dick, and he was suddenly readjusting in his seat, sitting up straight and tightening his arms across his chest as he willed his mind to think of anything else.  He’d never hear the end of it if his brother had caught him with a hard-on during the middle of Pastor Simon’s retelling of the story of Esther.  Even with his hopes of being inconspicuous, Perry glanced over and silently chuckled, shaking his head as he grinned before returning his eyes to the front of the sanctuary.  Rhett felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he quietly cleared his throat as he tried his hardest to focus on Pastor Simon’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him, flickering toward him every few minutes to check if he was still watching her.  He was trying his hardest not to, but knowing that she wanted him to be looking at her made it difficult to think of anything else.  It was made even worse when she stood up, her hands smoothing down her sweater and skirt as she made her way to take her father’s place on the small stage, smiling warmly at the congregation in front of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett watched as (Y/N) cleared her throat, positioning herself behind the altar and opening her bible as she prepared to read the excerpt from the book of Corinthians, transitioning the service from her father’s sermon to communion.  Before she began, (Y/N) let her eyes scan the small crowd, searching for her volunteer to help her with communion.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett thought back to high school, to when she’d silently cycle through the children and teens around her, but she’d always fall back on Rhett to help.  Back then, he was convinced that she was just trying to get him to participate, trying to lead him to the Lord by the small first step of offering communion.  A part of him hoped that she’d ask him to help just so he could feel the brush of her fingertips as she handed him the chalice filled with grape juice, or the press of her shoulder against his bicep as they stood side by side and let the congregation come to them to eat their bread and drink their “wine.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Like she had been all morning, (Y/N) surprised him by calling his niece to the pulpit. “Amy, honey, can you come up ‘ere and help me with communion?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s niece jumped up from her spot at the end of the row his family sat in, bouncing with giddiness as she walked up the aisle to assist (Y/N).  She smiled brightly as she took her spot beside (Y/N), her hands folded neatly behind her back as (Y/N) pointed out the verse she wanted Amy to read, as if she didn’t already know it by heart.  Even Rhett had it memorized, but that was because he used to be the Abbott standing behind the altar every week.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man tried to pay attention to his niece so he could tell her how well she did later on after the service.  He tried to watch his niece carefully break the bread, offering it to (Y/N) so she could take communion before repeating the young woman’s actions.  However, all he could think of was the way (Y/N)’s delicate hands would feel tracing indistinct patterns over his body, her glossed lips following closely behind her hands’ trails.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) turned to the congregation once more, motioning with her hands as she called them up to take communion.  The Abbott family sat patiently, waiting until the row ahead of them had moved into the aisle to stand.  Rhett slowly stood and placed his Stetsen on his chair, trying his hardest to hide his growing problem in his jeans without drawing attention to himself.  He was successful for the most part, but he could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him as he moved to stand in the aisle.  Their eyes met, and he watched as her eyes subtly flickered toward his hips and her teeth caught her bottom lip, suppressing a grin as she blessed a congregation member while they dipped their bread in the grape juice.  Rhett felt his heart hammer in his chest, his body tingling with nerves as the knowledge that she knew the effect she had on him settled in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Before he knew it, Rhett was standing before (Y/N) in front of the altar.  His hands shook slightly as he tore a piece of bread from the plate Amy held before he turned to (Y/N).  He slowly met her eyes, his chest feeling tight as he raised his hand to dip his bread into the grape juice.  He had always thought that her eyes were pretty; they gleamed with purity and a hint of mischief that he only ever saw when he was in such close proximity to her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was so focused on her eyes that he didn’t realize that he was practically soaking the piece of bread in the grape juice until it became heavy between his fingertips.  He fought against his first instinct to curse (Cecelia had always scolded him for cursing in the Lord’s Home) and quickly pulled it toward his lips, his free hand cupping under his chin to catch any drops, but that didn’t stop a few dribbles of juice from landing on his bottom lip.  Before he could react, (Y/N) had reached up and wiped away the juice with her thumb, and Rhett would have been embarrassed by the doting action if she hadn’t brought the digit to her mouth and licked the grape juice off her skin, her lips wrapping around her thumb and her cheeks hollowing just enough that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but Rhett caught it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man’s mouth suddenly felt dryer than a desert, and his brain began to short-circuit.  (Y/N) silently giggled and blessed him, ultimately sending him on his way back to his seat with her teeth running over her bottom lip teasingly.  Rhett awkwardly cleared his throat and turned around, stiffly walking back down the aisle with his head bowed bashfully.  He kept his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look at anyone in fear that they would notice the growing bulge in his jeans.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett spent the rest of the service with his jaw locked and eyes fixed in a frustrated stare on (Y/N).  His mind was racing with images of her mouth around his fingers, her tongue trailing along his digits as she sucked on them.  It wasn’t helping his hard-on, not in the slightest, but he had a sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what she wanted.  The congregation finally began to sing the closing song, and Rhett was the first one out the sanctuary doors once Pastor Simon sent them off with a blessing, making a beeline to the restrooms.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The moment the bathroom door was shut, he was unbuckling his jeans and pulling out his dick with a groan, back collapsed against the wall, and his hand furiously working to relieve his pent-up frustration.  It wasn’t hard to get himself over the edge after nearly an hour of teasing, but a part of him still felt like an inexperienced teenager getting himself off for the first time.  He came with a muffled grunt, his free hand bunched into a tight fist between his teeth.  Rhett slumped against the wall, his head leaned back as his chest heaved, the poor Abbott man struggling to catch his breath.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit,” Rhett cursed, pushing off the wall and reaching out to grab paper towels to clean himself up.  After he tucked himself back into his jeans and washed his hands, he took a moment to clear his head, his hands braced on the sink basin as his head hung low.  He slowly looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, a flash of shame washing over him, but it was quickly replaced with panic when he heard (Y/N)'s voice.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, I think I saw him head to the restroom, Mrs. Abbott.  He looked a little pale, though.  I hope he’s not gettin’ sick.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her voice was soft and sweet, like the taste of Cecelia’s sweet iced tea on a hot summer day.  Rhett thickly swallowed, his eyes locked on the door as he tried to remember whether he locked it or not.  A quick glance at the handle told him that, no, he hadn’t; he had been too focused on (Y/N), her legs, her lips, her tongue.  Rhett quietly groaned, his head falling back on his shoulders as his hands ran down his face.  Thank God no one walked in before he was finished.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎He knew his mother wouldn’t divulge to the pastor’s daughter that he was probably hungover, and he had never been so thankful for his mother’s need to keep appearances around the congregation before.  He just hoped that that was all she assumed was wrong with him.  He was proven right when he heard his mother respond to the sweet girl that has been subtly teasing her son for the better part of an hour.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Thank you, dear.  Let ‘im know we’re gon’ be out in the parkin’ lot when he comes out, will ya?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a relieved breath as his head fell once more, before he shook his hair from his eyes and pushed himself up from the sink.  He looked over his reflection, letting out a long breath through his nose as he willed the flush of color to disappear from his cheeks and neck.  He took a few minutes to ensure that all the churchgoers had filed out of the church before forcing himself to exit the bathroom.  He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans before tucking them into his pockets, pushing his way out the front doors to join his family when he was met with the harsh late-morning sunlight and dry Wyoming heat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, it’s bright out here,” Rhett mumbled when he reached his family.  They were hanging around the bed of his and Royal’s trucks, his father entertaining Amy’s constant questions about Pastor Simon’s sermon while Perry and Rebecca were lost in each other, still just as in love with each other as the day they met.  Cecelia, however, stood with her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face as she watched her youngest make his way to them.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia was quiet as she scolded Rhett, making sure that the rest of their family was preoccupied before she began to lay into him. “Now, I’m happy that you’re comin’ t’church with us again, but you can’t bust outta there like a bull the moment the service is over, Rhett.  It’s rude; not only to Pastor Simon, but to God, too.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grumbled, his light eyes squinting and pulling his face into a slight scowl as he looked at his mother, “I know.  ‘M sorry, Ma.  Won’t happen again.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Damn right, it won’t.” Cecelia affirmed, firmly nodding her head as she turned her attention to the rest of the Abbott family. “Alright, everyone in the trucks.  I‘m sure we wasted ‘nough time gettin’ to the diner.  Only table open’ll be right near the kitchen.  Let’s go.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shotgun!” Amy quickly shouted, leaping down from the tailgate and running around to the front of Rhett’s truck.  She anxiously yanked on the handle as Rhett pulled his keys from his pocket.  She began to whine, her head lolling on her shoulders as she began to pester her uncle, “Uncle Rhett!  Open the door!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, shaking his head as he fumbled with the keys.  He reached up to adjust his hat, but his hand was met with his slightly greasy hair instead of his worn Stetson. “Dammit.  Amy, go ahead an’ hop in with grandma and grandpa, I left my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“But I wanna ride with you!” Amy sadly said, dragging out the last syllable in an attempt to get Rhett to forget his hat and drive her to the diner.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I know ya do, sweetcheeks.  But Uncle Rhett ain’t Uncle Rhett without his hat, is he?” Rhett hummed and stepped up to his niece, placing his large hands on her small face and pinching her cheeks in an attempt to get her to smile.  When he got a sheepish giggle from her, he grinned and stood up straight, softly pushing her in the direction of his mother. “Go on to the diner, I’ll catch up in a few.  Forgot my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t push the issue any further. “Alright.  Amy, hon, c’mon now.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to walk back to the church, suddenly realizing how empty the parking lot was.  After his father pulled out of the lot, only his truck and (Y/N)'s old Dodge were left, three spots separating them.  Even Pastor Simon and his wife had left.  A rush of anxiety ran down his spine, but there was a spot of confidence growing with the idea that he and (Y/N) would be alone in the church.  He couldn’t act on her taunting with the entire congregation surrounding them, but maybe now he could.  Even if he can’t do anything physically, the least they could do would be to talk about it, set some boundaries if they were to really begin what they both wanted.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The church door quietly slammed shut behind him, effectively closing him and (Y/N) off from the rest of the town.  Rhett couldn’t remember the last time they had truly been alone together.  Maybe that time in high school when she had to tutor him in English?  Thinking back on it, Rhett realized that she had been playing this game with him since way back then; her foot would knock against his leg under the table, slowly dragging up his calf until she reached the top of his boot before she retreated, offering him a sly glance and reciting the question she had asked him when he gave her an awestruck look.  A quiet scoff fell from Rhett’s lips; he had been so oblivious for so long.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Not headed to the diner yet, Rhett?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s head snapped up from the old carpeting in the lobby, finding the angelic vision that was (Y/N).  She stood outside her father’s office, holding a handful of bibles in her arms that pressed against her chest and made her breasts push just that much further out of the low neckline of her sweater.  Rhett thickly swallowed, forcing his eyes to find hers, but that didn’t help much, either.  Her eyes were wide, almost doe-like, as if she had been asking him about something as mundane as the weather.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, ma’am.” Rhett shyly said, the tips of his ears tinted pink when he saw the small smile on (Y/N)’s face when he called her ‘ma’am.’  He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I, uh, I forgot my hat; thought I left it in the sanctuary.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, her eyes quickly scanning the small lobby before landing on the open sanctuary doors.  Sure enough, Rhett’s Stetson sat on the seat he claimed every Sunday.  (Y/N) quietly chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she slyly glanced toward Rhett. “An’ here I thought ya just wanted an excuse to come an’ talk t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her tone was low and suggestive, sending blood straight to his dick as she ran her tongue over her lip before sinking her teeth into it and tilting her head in the most innocent way.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Do I need an excuse to come an’ talk t’ya?” Rhett rasped, his voice sounding gravelly as it caught in his throat.  However, even with the nerves slowly working their way down his spine, he managed to notice the way that (Y/N) shifted her weight, moving one foot closer to the other as her knees knocked together, almost as if she were trying to subtly relieve tension.  All of his nerves disappeared, and Rhett was filled with a sense of confidence that inflated his ego just enough for him to know that he had the same effect on her that she did him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, shaking her head as Rhett watched her teeth nibble the inside of her cheek as if she were hiding a sly grin.  She pointed a finger over her shoulder toward the sanctuary doors across the hall, “Your hat’s in the sanctuary if ya wanted to grab it.  Though, I’m not sure I want ya to have it back; I’ve been looking for a new Stetson to wear to the rodeos.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett knew this was his chance to get (Y/N) alone in a room that had a lock on the door.  And, if he was reading her signs correctly, that was what she wanted, too.  So, mustering up as much confidence as he could, he tried to sound as inconspicuously seductive as possible as he stepped closer to her and asked, “If ya wanted t’wear my hat to my rides, all ya had to do was ask, angel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I suppose this is me askin’, then.” It was as if all his prayers had been answered when he saw her pupils dilate and her breath catch in her throat as she nodded once more.  This time, after a short, collective breath, she let that troublemaking smirk settle on her glossed lips as she held a hand out for him to take, “Want me to model it for ya, then?  Make sure it looks alright?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So long as you know what happens when you wear a cowboy’s hat, darlin’.” Rhett smoothly said.  He surprised himself with his response, but he didn’t let himself show it.  (Y/N) grinned, a quiet giggle slipping past her lips as she wiggled the fingers of her outstretched hand, urging him to take it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I do,” she easily said, and that was all it took.  Rhett slipped his calloused hand into hers, and his first thought was how small her hand was compared to his.  When she threaded her fingers into the spaces between his, the contrast of his rough fingertips against the soft skin of her hand immediately replaced that thought, and it was quickly followed by the idea of how her small, soft hands would feel wrapped around his cock.  His jeans tightened around his hips as she led him to the sanctuary, his body beginning to buzz with adrenaline as the realization that this was finally happening settled in his mind.  He felt like he was about to perform in a rodeo, that familiar twinge of nerves and self-assurance making his heartbeat echo in his ears.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The sanctuary doors were hardly shut before Rhett had his lips on (Y/N)'s and his hands on her hips, pushing her against the doors with a deep groan.  The bibles in her hands tumbled to the floor as her small hands wove into his hair, pulling him closer to her with every passing second.  Her lips were soft and warm, yet sticky from her lip gloss.  She tasted like strawberries and remnants of the grape juice from communion, an intoxicating combination that Rhett couldn’t get enough of.  Rhett groaned into her mouth, a smirk toying on the corners of his lips when she roughly pulled on his hair.  It stung, but the feel of her mouth on his and her back arching against his body made the sensation feel deliciously blissful.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎It was as if his hands had a mind of their own, wandering across any part of her body he could touch.  They splayed across her back, tugging her closer before they slid around her waist and began to inch upwards under her sweater, itching to feel the weight of her breasts in his palms.  His fingertips traced the underwire of her bra, the satin fabric cool to the touch and a stark contrast from her quickly warming skin.  Rhett could feel that wherever he touched her, a trail of goosebumps followed his hands and her body flooded with warmth.  It was mesmerizing, fueling his need to touch every part of her as he kissed her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to nibble on her bottom lip and (Y/N) opened her mouth to him, exhaling deeply through her nose, almost as if she were trying to keep quiet, but her efforts were hardly concealed when a quiet whine floated past her lips as his tongue grazed hers.  He breathlessly chuckled, pulling away slightly and tightening his grip on her waist as he said, “C’mon, angel.  Don’t hide those sounds from me.  Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎His words pulled a breathy moan from her lips, telling Rhett exactly what effect he had on her before she had the chance to vocally do so.  Rhett began to trail wet kisses across her jaw, gently nipping at the skin just below the bone before he soothed it with a slow swipe of his tongue, making sure not to leave any marks.  (Y/N) sighed, her head falling back against the sanctuary doors as her hands began to explore the expanse of his clothed chest, fingernails catching on the fabric of his flannel, “I knew you were lookin’ at me this mornin’.  Knew you wanted me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’ve been wantin’ t’have you like this since high school, darlin’.” Rhett admitted, his voice breathless against her skin.  The taste of her strawberry lip gloss was beginning to get lost with the salty taste of perspiration on her skin as the dry Wyoming air clung to their bodies, warming them up in the stuffy sanctuary.  Rhett mouthed his way back up to her lips, the tip of his nose nudging hers as he cheekily said, “Think you have, too, hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s pretty eyes fluttered open slightly, pupils blown and mascara beginning to dot along the skin under her lash line.  She gave him a grin, her chin jutting out so her lips brushed against his with every word she spoke. “Y’have no idea, Rhett.  No idea.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett wasn’t sure who moved first, the feeling of her tongue moving against his as their mouths worked on one another drowning out anything else in his head.  He slotted his thigh between her legs, a deep groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he felt her arousal begin to seep into the denim of his jeans.  His calloused hands wandered further down her body, along the smooth skin of her legs that hadn’t left his mind since he’d caught a glimpse earlier that morning, before they slipped under the hem of her skirt and bunched it around her waist so he could easily guide her hips along his thigh.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) pulled her lips from his with a whine, grinding her hips down onto him as her nimble fingers began to make quick work of the buttons on his flannel, expertly unbuttoning it before untucking it from his jeans and pushing it aside so her hands could feel the smooth muscles of his chest.  Rhett had never been so glad to forgo an undershirt in his life; if he had to wait to have her hands on his skin any longer, he would have combusted.  He could feel his cock hardening in his jeans again when her hands traveled lower, her fingertips brushing along the flexing muscles of his stomach as her lips attached to his peck, right over his bull rider tattoo.  He sucked in a sharp breath when her teeth dragged up his neck and grazed his pulse point before dragging down to the base of his throat just above his clavicle.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett cursed, leaning his head to the side to give her more access to his throat.  She giggled against his skin, her nails raking down his torso again as she sank her teeth into his skin before soothing the mark with her warm tongue.  Rhett bit his lip as he shakily exhaled, pulling his body back as one hand trailed up her body to cup her jaw, holding her face in place so he could kiss her again.  Everything about her was addictive, from the taste of her lip gloss to the way her wet, clothed cunt dragged along his jeans.  Rhett was sure that he had died and gone to Heaven when her fingers hooked into his belt loops and pulled his hips flush against hers, her mouth against his muffling the grunt forcing itself from his lips when his dick pressed against her hip bone.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Rhett,” (Y/N) panted, their hot breaths mingling in the sparse distance between their mouths, “I need you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Where d’you need me, pretty girl?” Rhett whispered, thickly swallowing as he attempted to catch his breath.  His fingertips began to gently play with the band of her panties, the satin fabric smooth against his rough hands slightly as he toyed with her.  He let an accomplished smile tug at his lips when she bucked her hips toward him, chasing the brief feeling of his hands when he pulled away.  Rhett traced a soft line down the front of her core, relishing in the choked hum of approval that left her lips. “Do you need me here?  Hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Yes,” (Y/N) sighed, hands bunching into the fabric of his open flannel to keep his body on hers.  She licked her lips and swallowed, a relieved smile covering her lips, “Yes, please.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, but it was cut off with a proud groan when he felt just how soaked she was.  She was practically dripping, and he was the cause of it.  He hooked a finger around the satin, pushing it to the side to swipe his fingers through her folds, collecting her arousal and spreading it across his fingertips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, shit,” (Y/N) gasped, her forehead falling forward on his shoulder as she braced her hands on his torso.  She hummed as Rhett gently circled her clit, biting her lips as her body jolted with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Angel, I’ve barely touched you,” Rhett teased, but his voice was the furthest thing from jovial.  His voice was deep, laced with lust and barely above a whisper.  A part of him was hardly able to believe that this was happening, but when he felt her body shudder against his as he pressed two fingers against her clit, he knew that this was real.  He didn’t just feel like his prayers had been answered; he knew they had been.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, pulling her head back and snaking her hands up his torso to grab onto the curls of hair at the nape of his neck.  Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed and lips kiss-bitten as she leveled her doe-like eyes with his.  She was completely at his mercy. “More, please.  I need more of you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Without warning, Rhett dipped his fingers to her entrance and slowly pushed his ring and middle fingers in, cursing when he felt her warm walls instinctively clench around his digits.  (Y/N) moaned, her body falling lax against the doors as her hands scrambled to find purchase in his hair.  Rhett began to pump his fingers, his free hand holding up his weight against the door by her head.  He kept reaching for that special spot inside of her, curling his fingers to find the spot that would make her legs shake and her chest heave with labored breaths.  He knew he’d found it when he felt that spongy part against his calloused fingertips, and she surged forward and attached her lips to his, whimpering when he picked up the pace of his fingers.  Her mouth opened in a silent moan, and Rhett took advantage of her parted lips to lick into her mouth, swallowing every small whine and whimper that left her sweet lips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, you look so pretty, all needy f’me,” Rhett grunted, feeling her wetness begin to drip down his knuckles into the palm of his hand.  His dick twitched in his jeans, desperately aching for attention, but he was easily able to put aside his needs when he heard the melodic sound of her breath catching in her throat as a strangled moan at his praise.  He cupped his hand around her, pushing the heel of his palm against her clit as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.  Her hips began to grind against his hand, chasing her high with determined circles.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, Rhett, please,” (Y/N) began to ramble, her chest heaving as he pushed her closer to the edge.  She tightened her hold on his hair, pulling his face closer as she looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading with him. “Don’t stop, please.  I’m so, so close.  Please, Rhett.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A dark chuckle left his throat as he ducked his head and placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin just below her ear.  He smirked at the high-pitched noise she made when he began scissoring his fingers inside her, teeth pulling at her earlobe before he whispered, “Let go, angel.  Give it t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) came with a shrill cry, her body collapsing against his as she weakly clung to him.  Rhett moaned when he felt her legs attempt to snap shut around his thigh and hand, her cum slowly seeping from her cunt and making a mess all over his fingers and jeans.  His cock pushed against the constraints of his jeans when he looked down to see his hand glistening with her arousal, and his chest swelled when he thought of the fact that he made her cum with nothing but his fingers.  He continued to slowly pump his fingers in and out of her, carrying her through her orgasm until her body stopped shaking.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s hands bunched into the fabric of his open flannel, grounding herself until she found her bearings again.  Rhett gently pulled his hand away from her, holding it up to watch her slick shine in the dim sunlight filtering through the sanctuary windows.  He was suddenly filled with the need to taste her, so he brought his fingers to his lips and began to lick his fingers.  He moaned, swearing that he had never tasted anything so sweet in his life.  She tasted better than any freshly baked apple pie or hand-churned ice cream he’d ever had.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So sweet, angel,” Rhett hummed, savoring the taste of her with his eyes half-closed before they widened.  (Y/N) had taken a hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from his lips to hers and slowly sucked his fingers into her mouth, a purring sound leaving her throat as her tongue swirled around his digits.  Rhett’s jaw slacked, his eyes darkening as he watched her clean her mess off his fingers.  He reached his other hand down to palm himself over his jeans, shaking his head in amazement when she pulled her mouth off his fingers with a faint pop. “Jesus Christ, darlin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled, still sounding breathless as she began to push him toward the back row of chairs in the sanctuary, her hands firm on his shoulders.  She directed him to a chair and gently sat him down, kneeling in front of him and running her hands slowly up his thighs. “My turn, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could hardly breathe as her dainty hands trailed up his thighs toward his belt buckle, his hands flexing and unflexing around the edge of the chair, unsure what to do with them.  (Y/N) hummed, taking one hand off his leg to take hold of his, silently directing him to hold her jaw before she resumed her quest of unbuckling that large buckle around his hips.  Rhett had been hard as a rock nearly the whole morning, but he felt as if he was growing harder as he watched the sight in front of him, his dick throbbing beneath the feather-light pressure of her forearm over it as she slid the leather belt out of the clasp.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett hissed, watching with lust-blown eyes as she unzipped his jeans, her movements so painfully slow just to tease him.  Although he complied and lifted his hips when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxers, he couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance that rippled through his body as he watched her take her sweet time.  The young Abbott man let his hand slide from her jaw to her chin, holding it firmly between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled her gaze to his eyes.  His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his cheek fluttering with aroused frustration as he sharply said, “I didn’t tease you, now did I?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bit her lip, shaking her head before laying it on the top of his thigh, just out of reach from where he wanted her to touch him the most.  She lazily traced a finger up and down the outline of his cock tenting his boxers, which was pulsing now that the tight denim had been removed.  His hips involuntarily bucked up, his body betraying the slight dominating bite in his tone, which only brought a sly grin to (Y/N)'s face.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, but if I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for as long as I have, I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.” (Y/N) sassed, her brows raising slightly as she challenged him.  All the while, her finger kept running that same trail up his clothed cock.  Her eyes never left the path of her finger, simply enamored with the idea of what Rhett hid underneath those Levi jeans.  Rhett gulped, struggling to regain some control over the situation as she began to apply more pressure to her ministrations, soon letting her wrist go limp so she could use her palm to trace his cock instead of a single finger.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if ya picked up the pace, angel,” Rhett said, his voice sounding as if it was stuck in his throat.  He watched as she licked her lips, her eyes growing wider as she met his gaze.  If he felt breathless before, that was nothing compared to the vision of (Y/N) kneeling between his legs with her palm moving agonizingly slow across his dick.  She looked ethereal, a slight halo of dim lighting surrounding her from the dust-covered windows behind her.  She looked as if she belonged there, sat dutifully before him with her doe-eyes and kiss-swollen lip tucked between her teeth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Y’know, patience is a virtue, Mr. Abbott.” (Y/N) airily said, her cheeks proudly flushing when Rhett’s chest stopped moving.  Rhett wasn’t sure where the reaction came from; he’d never imagined that being scolded and called ‘Mr. Abbott’ would send his body into a frenzy, sparking a need deep within his soul to shove his dick down her throat.  He needed her to wrap her perfectly pouted lips around his cock, and he needed her to do it now.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett tightened his grip on her chin, pulling her face off his thigh before bunching his other hand in her hair to pull her face closer to his as he sat up.  His face hardened as he looked her over, eyes narrowing as his voice deepened, a dominating side overtaking any faint nerves he might have still had. “Y’better put that mouth to use before I do it for you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A grin spread across (Y/N)'s face and she leaned up to press a searing kiss to his lips.  It was all tongue and teeth, but Rhett hardly had time to register that he could still gather the faint taste of her cum on her lips before she suddenly reached a hand into his boxers and wrapped her small hand around him.  An almost animalistic growl left his lips as his jaw slacked, his breath shaky when she gently swiped her thumb over his tip and collected the precum leaking from the slit.  Rhett had never been overly vocal, but he couldn’t help the way he moaned when (Y/N) pulled away from his lips and placed a delicate kiss to his tip over his boxers.  It was just a taste of what was to come, and he was already beginning to fall apart.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) let that soft giggle of hers trickle from her lips, thoroughly amused by the young Abbott man’s reaction, before she swiftly pulled his boxers down enough to free his cock, letting it fall against his toned stomach.  Rhett opened his mouth to tell her to use hers, but a strangled groan replaced any words he was about to say when she leaned forward and licked a slow, hot stripe up his shaft, her eyes never leaving his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s back collapsed against the chair, a shudder washing over his body when she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, her tongue teasing his slit and a hum of appreciation sounding from the back of her throat.  Rhett’s hold in her hair tightened, the veins in his forearm beginning to protrude slightly as he let his body take over, bucking his hips and pushing himself further into her warm mouth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“There ya go, darlin’.” Rhett mumbled, his head falling back as a deep breath left his lips.  (Y/N) slowly dipped her head, taking more of him in her mouth as she hummed, the vibrations in her throat adding to Rhett’s pleasure.  Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly pumping what she couldn’t fit into her mouth as she began to bob her head.  The combination of her warm mouth and the sounds of appreciation she was quietly making was enough to make Rhett’s head spin.  He swore he had never felt anything so good in his life, finally having the girl he’s pined after for years with her lips around his dick and her lust-blown eyes glancing up at him through her lashes.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s free hand was gently running across his hip, her nails scratching his skin so lightly that Rhett hardly realized what she was doing until he let go of her jaw to take her hand in his.  He sighed, eyes rolling back when she let go of his cock and pushed her head down further until the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.  A deep rumble of a groan left his lips and his fingers laced through hers, squeezing her hand tightly in appreciation.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck, you’re good at that,” Rhett breathed, tucking his chin to his chest so he could watch her continue to take him deeper and deeper until her nose nearly brushed the patch of hair at the base of his cock.  It truly was a sight to behold; the beautiful preacher’s daughter deepthroating the wild bull rider known for sleeping around.  Rhett knew he’d never be able to forget the image of (Y/N) between his legs, and the realization that he’d have this memory to look back on the next time he was feeling lonely made his cock twitch in her mouth.  (Y/N) let out a long breath before attempting to take him further, and the feeling of her nose finally reaching his pubic bone had Rhett bucking his hips before he could stop himself.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) gagged around him, and that didn’t help the way the coil in Rhett’s stomach tightened with the need to feel her do that again, and keep her mouth stuffed full of him.  He let go of her hand and let it join his other hand in her hair, but before he could force her to cockwarm him with her throat, he was somehow able to have the thought that she might not want to.  And Rhett was a gentleman, even with lust clouding his senses.  If he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t a one-time deal, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“This okay, angel?” Rhett rasped, his voice gravelly and somewhat hoarse.  (Y/N) looked up at him, her lashes clumped together slightly and wet with unshed tears, her mascara beginning to trail down the apples of her cheeks, but that couldn’t do anything to hide the earnest look in her eyes.  She pulled off of his cock with a gasp, her head nodding eagerly as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“More than okay.” (Y/N) breathlessly said, already leaning down to take him in her mouth again.  Rhett moaned when she sunk down around him without hesitation, a deep exhale through her nose tickling his pubic hair as she hummed around him again.  Her hands rested on his hips, fingers flexing as she focused on her breathing.  Rhett was utterly entranced as he watched her, so eager to please him and bring him his release right there in the church sanctuary.  His stomach began to churn, his breathing becoming uneven and ragged as he shakily exhaled.  She slowly pulled her mouth up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip before dipping down once more, not stopping until she was completely full of him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel his orgasm was fast approaching as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting and tightening around him before she pulled up and suckled his tip, her tongue running along the slit as she lazily pumped him with one hand so she could catch her breath.  The coil in Rhett’s stomach began to subside, but that allowed his head to clear enough to realize that if he was going to cum, it wasn’t going to be in her mouth.  That was going to be an image he could capture at another time, but right now, all he wanted was to have the picture of her riding him wearing his Stetson ingrained in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett heaved a long breath, his chest deflating slightly as he slid a hand around her chin again.  With a mumbled, ‘Come ‘ere, angel,’ he brought her lips to his, kissing her sweetly before he found that dominating side from moments ago. “You gon’ model that hat f’me or what, honey?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s eyes lit up as she giggled, nodding her head and reaching over to grab his Stetson from the seat beside him.  She kept her eyes on his as she situated it on her head, adjusting it so it hung low over her eyes the way he had it that morning.  Her head tilted back, gaze meeting his through hooded eyes as she teasingly turned her face from side to side to show it off.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“What d’ya think, Rhett?” (Y/N) teased, leaning down to kitten-lick the tip of his cock, quiet moans leaving her lips as she gathered the leaking precum on her tongue.  All Rhett could do was groan, his dick throbbing against his stomach as he looked her over with hungry eyes.  He had never seen a more perfect sight, not even the Tetons at sunset could compete with her wearing his hat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett clicked his tongue and smirked, his fingers tightening around her chin slightly as he breathlessly said, “You’re gon’ make me an even bigger goddamn sinner, sweetheart.  You look so fuckin’ perfect wearing my hat with my dick in your mouth.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giddily hummed, wrapping her lips around his tip once more and dipping her head until the rim of the hat hit Rhett’s abs.  She pulled off him again with a soft pop, sitting back on her heels as she hummed contentedly.  She grinned up at him, eyes playful as she asked, “Now, isn’t there somethin’ I’m supposed to do if I’m wearin’ a cowboy’s hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, simultaneously amused and aroused by her seemingly innocent question.  He nodded, leaning forward as his hands slipped to her biceps to pull her up on her knees again. “Get up here in my lap, pretty girl.  Time to show ya somethin’ ‘bout ridin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) wasted no time in standing to her feet, teasingly trailing her fingertips up her thighs until they breached the hem of her skirt and tucked into the band of her ruined satin panties before she swiftly pulled them down her legs and stepped out of them.  She smirked as she leaned forward and tucked the panties into his front pocket before straddling his thighs.  Rhett’s hands immediately found her hips, pushing her skirt up so he could feel her hot skin against his rough hands and direct her dripping core to drag over his cock.  They both moaned at the feeling, (Y/N)'s head lolling on her shoulders as her hands gripped his shoulders.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Please, Rhett,” (Y/N) whined, her teasing nature long gone as she began to grind along the length of his cock.  She gasped when the tip bumped her clit, her eyes fluttering shut as her fingers flexed in pleasure.  She licked her lips, that intoxicating strawberry lipstick long gone as she reached a shaky hand up to hold his hat on her head. “Rhett, please, fuck me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett had imagined her begging for his cock so many times, but nothing could have prepared him for the feral feeling that would spread like wildfire through his chest when she finally did.  It was pure instinct as one of his hands left her hips and grasped the base of his cock, the other holding her firmly in place as he aligned himself with her entrance.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s eyes flickered up to her face to watch her as he eased her down onto his length, his jaw slacking at the sight.  Her lips parted, eyes screwed shut, and cheeks flushed as a breathy moan left her lips.  His hat was slightly askew on her head, casting a shadow over half of her face as her chest heaved with panted breaths.  Rhett swore he could have cum right then, the feeling of her tight walls slowly encapsulating him and hugging every inch perfectly as she whimpered above him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Jesus, angel,” Rhett sighed, his hands tightening on her hips as she lowered herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  He could feel that sweet spongy spot against his tip, every breath she took, and every noise she made making her walls flutter around him in a way that made him wonder why he’d never acted on his desires sooner.  He’d been missing out on all of this for years, but there was no way he was going to anymore.  She hadn’t even begun to ride him and he was already so far gone for her he knew she’d ruined any other woman for him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, her chest dropping forward so she could press and hungry kiss to his lips as she began to raise her hips.  Her movements were agonizingly slow, every shift of her muscles calculated to bring the both of them the most pleasure possible.  Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she sunk down on him again, faster than the first time, before repeating her actions.  Each time she lowered her hips against his, her pace grew faster and harder, a steady stream of skin slapping skin filling the sanctuary.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a string of curses as she began to circle her hips every time she sunk down on him, a hand flying up to the back of her neck to keep her lips on his as his hips began to buck up into her.  He met every bounce, every roll of her hips in perfect synchronicity; it was as if they had been fucking one another for years and knew exactly how to bring each other to the brink without a second thought.  Every lovesick idea that Rhett had that they were perfect for one another was confirmed as their bodies moved, chasing their highs as their stomachs churned with desire.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bunched the fabric of his flannel in her hands, supporting her weight on his chest as she bounced on his cock, keeping each one small so he hardly left her cunt at all but still hit her g-spot with every thrust.  Rhett felt her walls clench around him as she whimpered, “I’m so, so close, Rhett.  Oh, my god.  Fuck!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grunted in concentration as one hand slid from her hip to the front of her body, his fingers splayed across her stomach as his thumb began to circle her clit.  He could feel his cock pushing against her stomach with every thrust, sending his body and mind into a frenzy as he sped up the speed of his thrusts.  Rhett couldn’t even form complete words, anything he wanted to say was lost in his throat as it turned into desperate moans and grunts.  His mind began to cloud with nothing but the want to make her cum, and he began to tighten the circles his thumb was making on her clit, focusing purely on the small bundle of nerves as she frantically ground her hips against his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” (Y/N)'s words were jumbled, running together as she clung to Rhett’s shoulders.  Rhett could feel his orgasm quickly approaching with each brush of his tip against her g-spot and each tug of his hair.  (Y/N)'s walls clung to him, pulsing as he finally pushed her over the cliff, sending her spiraling into a trembling orgasm that had her entire body jolting with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit, angel, I’m close.” Rhett wasn’t far behind, and although he wanted nothing more than to cum inside her and claim her as his own, he didn’t want to fuck this up.  He grunted, slowing his hips just enough to keep himself right on the edge of an orgasm to ask, “Where d’you want me, pretty girl?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Inside!” (Y/N) practically begged, finding the strength to pull her head back and meet his eyes.  Hers were wide, pleading with him to cum inside of her as she nodded her head. “Please, Rhett, please, I want it all.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎That was all it took to hurl him over the edge.  Rhett’s hips stuttered before they stilled, the coil in his stomach snapping as he came inside her, painting her warm walls with his seed as a pathetic moan tumbled past his lips.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body shook, her pussy clenching around him and milking him for everything he had.  His entire body tensed, fingers flexed so hard around her hips that he knew there’d be bruises when he let go of her.  He had never cum so hard, his orgasm taking every ounce of energy and more until the last spurt of cum.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They were both absolutely spent, lungs burning for air as they attempted to catch their breaths.  It was eerily silent in the old, stuffy sanctuary, save for their labored breaths and the nearly undetectable sound of (Y/N)'s nails running across Rhett’s chest.  Rhett was slowly becoming aware of the sticky sheen of sweat covering their bodies and the mess pooling around the base of his softening cock as their combined cum leaked from her pussy.  (Y/N) lazily kissed at Rhett’s neck, grounding herself with the action before she pushed herself up, hands braced on his pecs as she grinned at him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) playfully bit her lips, meeting his shining blue eyes as she said, “You’re not gettin’ this hat back, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett breathlessly chuckled, pushing his hair back from his face as he gazed up at her. “If I get t’fuck you like that when ya wear it, I don’ want it back.  Jesus Christ.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled and reached up to tilt the hat back as she leaned down, softly kissing his lips before she sat back up, smirking as he chased after her before his back collapsed against the chair again.  She slowly lifted herself off of him, letting her skirt drop to cover herself as she stood on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go get us somethin’ t’clean up with.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, no, I got it.” Rhett immediately said, pushing himself off the chair and scrambling to tuck himself back into his boxers.  He adjusted his jeans on his hips, but opted to leave them undone until he was cleaned up.  He smiled at (Y/N) and leaned down over her, tilting her chin up as he whispered, “Least I can do after the best sex of my life, sweetheart.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett placed a chaste kiss to her lips before he stood up straight and made his way to the altar at the other end of the room, knowing that they kept napkins in one of the tables back there.  He returned with a handful, kneeling before her and carefully wiping her legs clean of their cum with whispered apologies if she hissed from oversensitivity.  It was such a stark contrast from his fast and brutal pace that (Y/N) was wistfully sighing, watching him with adoring eyes as he wiped himself down and tossed the napkins into a bin near the sanctuary doors.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stood up and slowly walked over to Rhett, her arms circling his waist as he finished buckling his belt as she grinned up at him. “Y’know, maybe I’ll wear the hat to the rodeos this weekend.  Could be your good luck charm.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled and turned around in her arms, hands gently squeezing her waist as he hummed in approval. “Ya want everyone t’see ya wearing my hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) eagerly nodded, eyes glinting with mischief as she said, “Been lookin’ for a way outta my daddy’s house for years.  Maybe he’ll be mad enough t’kick me out if he sees me wearin’ the hat of ‘that damn Abbot boy.’”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett smiled and flicked the brim of the hat, letting it settle above her eyebrows so he could see her eyes better. “Good idea, angel.  Then I’d get ya all t’myself.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stretched up on her toes and gently pressed her lips to his, sighing contentedly as Rhett pulled her body flush against his.  Rhett knew he had gotten himself into a tricky situation by fucking the preacher’s daughter, but with her lips against his, the opinions and judgements of the residents of Wabang couldn’t have mattered any less to him.  He had an angel that could sin like the devil in his arms.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hehe the full fic is finally here! i'm super excited but also a little nervous, this is my first time posting smut online, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! the end is a little rushed, but i was just super excited to get this out for you guys, so here we are lol i have an idea in mind for a part two if anyone would be interested? let me know, love you all so so much!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @callsign-joyride, @downinroma,

If you'd like to be added to any of my taglists, click here!

[rhettmotel]

Kittens and Bugs

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

￫ c/w: age regression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What're you gonna name 'em?"

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

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

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

[roosterbruiser]

All I'm thinking about now is a Rhett and Bob threesome...

Rhett is seated deeply inside of you--so deeply that your body's reaction is to push you up non your tip toes and bend at the hips, face tilted towards the ceiling in the bedroom.

"y'good, darlin'?" Rhett grunts through grit teeth, fingers digging into the bend of your hips.

nodding silently, you just blindly reach forward until your hands find purchase on Bob's thighs.

he's sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Rhett take you from behind, his throat warm with desire.

"s'not too much, is it?" Rhett asks, experimentally rolling his hips and shivering when you push back against him like the good girl you are. "fuck."

he starts to roll his hips forward again, just barely pulling out of you before moving back into you. God, you're fucking wet. just from kissing Bob, just from letting Rhett lick your cunt, just from the sheer prospect of having both of them.

Bob's mouth is dry with desire the moment Rhett finds a good pace, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he begins to steadily thrust into you. the sounds you're making right now--god, they're fucking perfect. they're sweet and wanting and making his cock throb.

"god, you look fucking pretty," Bob tells you. without further ado, he cups your cheek with one hand as he slowly strokes himself with the other, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. "look so pretty when he's fucking you, honey."

a ditzy, lazy smile tugs at your lips.

"only you are so polite during a threesome," you whisper to him.

and before Bob can respond, you're leaning into him, pressing your mouth against his. your soft lips coax his apart and then god, your tongue is in his mouth and you taste like white wine and honey and he's absolutely dizzy right now.

Rhett groans from behind you, cursing softly when your walls hug him tighter.

"fuck, Bob," he mutters. "keep kissin' her. she fuckin' loves it."

and then you're moaning against Bob's lips, reaching down and moving his hand out of the way so you can languidly stroke his cock a few times.

Bob whimpers and in unison, you and Rhett groan.

"how's that?" you pant to Bob, stroking his cock just right, thumbing all that precum and doing him the way you know he likes. "that good, Bobby?"

he nods against your lips, breath caught between his teeth.

"yeah," he mutters. "god, yeah--yeah, that's so fucking good, honey."

"oh, fuck, Rhett," you very after a particularly deep thrust. "that's so fucking good."

without a word about it, Rhett releases your right hip and moves between your legs, rubbing tight and precise circles around your clit until your legs are almost buckling.

"don't stop," Rhett encourages, picking up his face. "I wanna all cum at the same time now, alright?"

[tongue-like-a-razor]

For your celebration, could you write something with the word Dog with Bob?

Ahh this was a cute one! Thank you for send this one in, darling!

3k Celebration Mini Drabbles

“Is that a dog, Bob?”

Your husband smiles at you sheepishly, closing the front door behind himself. “He, uh, needed a new home.”

You glare at him. “You’re going to need a new home in a minute.”

Bob snorts, walking closer to you. “Sweetheart,” he says, putting his arms around you. “I love you, you know that?”

“That’s no – that’s not fair,” you say, giggling as Bob starts kissing your neck. “My answer is no.”

Bob peppers your face with kisses and then holds you close. “It’s a guard dog,” he says, glancing back at the dog affectionately.

“It’s a chihuahua.”

Bob presses his lips to your temple. “It’s very loud.”

“So am I,” you remind him.

“Perfect,” he says, grinning at you. “You’ll get along great.”

3k celebration

[writercole]

Summary: A flight across the country brings a wonderful surprise. Words: 266 Warnings: None, really. Just Bob. A/N: This little mini-series is based off of the song "Something Like That" by Tim McGraw. I think mine is better than his.

Bob was always in airplanes for his job. He should be comfortable flying in a commercial plane, and he was, until she sat beside him. Now he was as nervous as he had been the first time he’d climbed into a cockpit.  

She had fallen asleep a few minutes ago and was currently using his shoulder as a pillow. Her face scrunched, whimpering in her sleep, her hand gripping his arm tightly as a few tears fell onto his shoulder. 

She sat up with a start, gasping for breath and looking around frantically, her eyes wide.

“Hey, hey,” Bob cooed, “you’re okay. It was just a dream.” He reached over and laid his hand on her shoulder, her head whipping around to find his soft blue eyes gazing at her.

“A dream,” she panted as she relaxed under his touch. “Just a dream. More like a nightmare,” she muttered to herself as she shifted in her seat.

“Need to talk about it? You’ve already literally cried on my shoulder, might as well make it figurative, too, right?” he offered with a kind smile.

She eyed him cautiously, judging whether or not she could trust a stranger she was seated next to on a flight. She shrugged her shoulders and flagged down a flight attendant, getting a glass of wine for her and a coke for her seatmate. 

“Might be here a while,” she joked, tipping her glass in his direction before draining it all in one gulp.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” he grinned, giving her his full attention as she launched into her story.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

the rise of sira | sci-fi!rhett x oc

Summary: Tessa teaches Rhett that he could never hurt her. (wc: 919)

Requested: NO

Warnings: grumpy rhett abbott w/ a bionic arm, made up sci-fi lore, no smut but definitely sexual themes so MDNI pls

✎……MASTERLIST || MORE FROM THIS UNIVERSE

✎……this entire universe is a demon and i must exorcise it from my brain through writing

Tessa pulled away and Rhett chased her lips with a heavy breath. She wanted to just fall back into him. Let him win the chase and keep kissing him. Keep gleaning all his warmth and all his love. But her mind had been set before she even walked into his quarters that night. 

There was something she needed to do. 

His attempts at getting her lips back where he most wanted them were admirable though. It made a grin stretch her kiss-swollen lips as one big hand encompassed her waist and dragged her closer to his bare chest. As he leaned forward ever so slightly to capture her once more. But she turned her head at the last moment, his lips and teeth catching nothing but her rose-dusted cheek.

Rhett grunted in surprise and it made her laugh breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a gravelling whisper that made her hips drop into his lap. “Need my lips somewhere else? That it?” 

While the idea did have its appeal — and she was mighty tempted to simply nod her head and let him effortlessly lift her up and place her on her back — she had a mission. One she couldn’t so easily forget. Not when the evidence of its need laid heavily at her right side. 

Her fingers threaded into the long strands of his hair as she tilted her face, bumping her nose against his own with a smile. “Wan’you to touch me.” 

“I am touchin’ you,” he replied with a small smile. 

He squeezed her hip for emphasis. She shook her head. 

“With all of you.”

Blindly, she reached for his left arm. Felt the cool metal beneath her fingertips as she traced over the forearm. Rhett tensed beneath her, his grip on her flesh tightening. His blue eyes darted over to his bionic arm, not daring to look at it for a moment longer. 

“No,” he spoke simply, with a finality reserved for fighters under his command.

“Rhett —” she tried to argue. 

But he cut her off. “I don’wanna hurt you.” 

Tessa sighed as she looked into his face, head cocked at the firm set of his brow and the tick of his jaw. The metal cables for tendons tensed and moved beneath her hand. He wouldn’t look at her anymore. Instead choosing to focus on the strap of her sleeping gown that had slipped off her shoulder. With renewed earnest, she scooted on her knees closer to him — nearly chest to chest. Then she took his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye.

Determined. Brave. Terrified. Broken. A softness that only she could see. 

Her Rhett. 

“You could never hurt me,” she whispered, stroking his stubbled cheeks with her thumbs. “Never.” 

“You don’know that.” 

“Yes I do.”

Tessa reached for his left arm again. This time he let her. This time he let her hand drift down the metal plates and cables until her fingers wrapped around his own. His breathing quickened as she lifted his hand, meeting no resistance, and placed it on her bare thigh. A shiver ran up her spine, her flesh raising as she released a sharp breath. Rhett tensed, made to pull away. 

“No,” she whispered quickly, pressing his metal hand firmly into her warm flesh to leave no room for retreat. “Just cold, s’all.”

He nodded, releasing a shaky breath. “Y-You’d tell me if…?”

“You know I would,” she replied, leaning in to press a gentle but brief kiss to his lips. “Now just…Feel me. All of me.” 

His eyes slipped shut and she leaned her forehead against his own. Still, his hand made no move to really touch her, to grip and mold and feel, as she dragged his hand slowly up her thigh. 

Suddenly, his hold became just a touch more firm, and it made her gasp softly. 

“So soft,” he muttered against her lips. 

It made her grin.

She barely even had to touch him anymore as his hand rose higher. Slipped beneath the fabric of her sleeping gown and onto her bare hip. A gasp tumbled from her parted lips, her hips rolling forward into his lap, as he palmed at her ass. Squeezed the forgiving flesh — gripping, molding, and feeling. 

It felt like he was touching her for the first time all over again.

A whimper escaped her as he gave her another squeeze, metal digging into skin, her fingers finally falling from his cheeks to rest against his broad shoulders. 

“That feel good, sunshine?” he asked, that cockiness she had grown to love seeping back into his voice. 

“Uh-huh,” she breathed back.

Rhett hummed, tilting his head to start mouthing at her neck. All tongue and teeth and slightly too rough but it was perfect. Tessa shivered again as both of his large, eclisping hands now slipped up her back. One cool and one warm.

I love you. It was on the tip of her tongue. About to burst out of her. Leap from the very depths of her soul and out into the open. With no cover or backup in sight.

Would he say it back? Did he even feel the same?

Whatever was between them had gone unspoken for so long. A silent agreement. A care and attention that neither of them had given to another soul in so long. Tessa knew something was there. Knew he had to feel something for her. 

So for now, she settled for the feeling of both of his hands.

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[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Forgotten (Robert "Bob" Floyd Drabble)

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 1. Failed Escape

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob has been forgotten or overlooked his entire life. But it never really mattered.... until now.

Word Count: 512

TW: Main Character Death, Drowning

Notes: Thank you to @green-socks for looking this over for me! @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez, you asked for this! @mayhem24-7forever..... I'm sorry 😅😬

No one ever remembered the name Robert “Bob” Floyd. They would read it on their roster or on his file and have no recollection of the face that went along with it, even when he was standing right in front of them. And when they saw him in the halls or in the rec room, everyone always whispered, “Do you know who that guy is?” even after he had been training with them for weeks. He was the sort of person who seemed to only exist when he purposefully drew attention to himself.

But this was nothing new. Bob had been experiencing this for his entire life long before he joined the Naval Academy. His mother used to say that he was special in ways others couldn’t understand. His brother used to say he was boring. Yet, whatever the reason, he had come to accept that he would spend his life in total anonymity while he blended in with the wallpaper. After all, being noticed wasn’t the most important thing in life. 

And while this was true, being noticed was very necessary in some cases….

The last day of boot camp was a team exercise where everyone was strapped into seats in an old fuselage. The fuselage was then lowered into a pool of water where all the cadets would have to undo their harnesses and escape. It was meant to simulate a pilot being shot down into a lake or ocean and the need to evacuate a sinking plane. 

All the cadets found their seats and strapped in before having their harnesses examined for safety one last time. Then, once everything was set, the fuselage was lowered into the water. For the instructors watching from dry land, nothing happened for a moment. Then, heads began to break through the surface of the water as the pilots gasped for air. As more and more of them made it out, they all cheered and the instructors helped them out of the water.

Ten minutes later, they were sure everyone had gotten out. All the cadets looked around and didn’t see anyone missing. The instructors scanned the roster and didn’t notice anyone not accounted for. It was only when one of the safety crew members asked for an official headcount that people started to realize something was wrong. They were short one cadet, though no one for the life of them could figure out who. 

It wasn’t until they pulled the fuselage out of the water and looked inside that everyone remembered that there was one recruit previously unaccounted for. One recruit who was still strapped into his chair with his glasses peeking out of his front pocket and his wet hair plastered against his pale face. One recruit in the very last seat who’s safety harness no one had bothered to check before the exercise and had failed to open. One recruit who even as they stared at his lifeless body, no one could remember the name of.

Well, after that day, no one involved ever forgot the name Robert “Bob” Floyd again.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs, @green-socks, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @topguncortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @wildbornsiren, @lt-natrace, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @joalsglasses, @curlyolly, @nobody7102, @footprintsinthesxnd, @thesewordsxlibrary, @double-j, @phoenix1389, @some-lovely-day

[bobfloydsbabe]

glimpse of relief || robert "bob" floyd x oc

Rating: T+

Prompt: Playing with the other's fingers

Requested: Yes, by @natrace

Summary: Established!Relationship/Future!Fic. After the mission, Bob has nightmares. Abby's there to help him through it.

Warning(s): Emotional hurt/comfort, nightmares, mentions of being shot down, mention of ejecting from a plane, and vague TGM spoilers. If I missed anything, let me know.

Word count: ~1.7k

A/N: A big thank you to Lyra, who requested this adorable prompt for Abby and Bob. I wanted to write something cute and fun, but this happened instead. It's still fluff, but the tone is definitely more somber. Yes, Anna, I used your gif again because it's great. Title is from epiphany by Taylor Swift. It's now 2 am, and I'm exhausted. Enjoy!

Likes are nice, but comments (and reblogs) are golden and motivating.

After the mission, Bob had nightmares.

Abby would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and Bob's glasses gone from the nightstand on his side of the bed. He'd claimed it after the mission, spending most nights at her apartment since then.

It was one of those nights, the only exception being that Abby woke up before him. Roused from her slumber by his tossing and turning, drenching their sheets in sweat.

She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and rolled over, placing a gentle hand on Bob's chest, hoping to wake him carefully.

Instead, he jolted awake, sitting upright, his breathing shallow and uneven. His dark blonde hair clung to his forehead, and Abby could see droplets of sweat running down his back.

He looked over his shoulder, chest heaving, eyes slightly unfocused as he met her gaze. Abby didn't know if she read him right, but he looked almost relieved to find her awake.

She sat up and bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "What's going on in that brain of yours?"

He looked down at his hands, where they rested in his lap. "I didn't think they were going to make it."

Abby nodded, not knowing exactly how to respond to that. She'd been in the operations room, listening to everything as it happened. She had been so relieved that Bob was okay and coming back to the ship. To her. She had only managed to be happy for a few brief minutes before Maverick went down, and Rooster followed.

She'd felt so helpless in that room.

When they returned to base, Abby called her mom and broke down in tears of terror and relief, telling her what little she could about the mission. It was also the first time she mentioned Bob to her mom.

She felt helpless now, sitting next to the man she loved as he wrung his hands, trying to let the nightmares go.

For someone who made a career out of being helpful, this was one of the worst feelings in the world.

She placed her head on his shoulder, listening as his breathing evened out and settled back to normal. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Abby sent Bob into the shower to rinse the sweat off while she got to work stripping the bed and putting fresh sheets on.

She put the dirty sheets in the hamper just as Bob came out of the bathroom. His hair was damp, and his glasses were slightly fogged from the heat in the room. He wore clean boxers and pajama bottoms.

Abby smiled and met him by the bathroom door. Some of the tension had left his shoulders, and the flush on his chest no longer had anything to do with the nightmare. At least, she hoped so. He smelled like freshly cut grass and home.

She wrapped her arms around his naked torso, placing her cheek against his chest and listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat. She felt the muscles in his back ripple and move under her palms as his arms engulfed her body in a hug.

His lips placed a gentle kiss on her hair, and it felt like he was comforting her, not the other way around.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he whispered into her hair.

She pulled back a little, looking up at him, and shook her head. "No, it's okay," she said and placed a kiss on his chest. "I'm sorry you're having nightmares."

Abby swore she felt his entire body tremble for a brief second. "Want to go back to bed?" He asked. 

Abby shook her head again, letting go of his torso but grabbing his hand. "No," she told him and led him out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. "We're having tea and talking about this."

He frowned but didn't protest, just asked her to put the kettle on while he grabbed a t-shirt. 

Abby heard the sound of his bare-footed footsteps as he approached the small kitchen. The kettle was on, mugs were on the counter for them, and she was reaching for the box of tea pouches when Bob appeared in her periphery.

He walked up to her and grabbed the box easily, setting it on the counter as Abby closed the cabinet.

"Peppermint?" She asked, referencing their nighttime favorite. This wasn't the first time they'd been up in the middle of the night having tea, but it was the first night tension hung in the air.

Bob hummed his approval, leaning against the countertop. Abby felt his eyes following her as she dumped tea bags into their mugs and turned to hand the box to him, so he could put it back in the cabinet.

They listened to the kettle as it got to a boil, and Bob watched Abby as she poured the hot water. She handed him one of the mugs, and he followed her into the living room, where he joined her on the couch.

"You have to talk to me," Abby said, taking a small sip of the hot liquid and doing her best to ignore the burning sensation on her tongue.

Bob studied the mug in his hands as if trying to discern exactly what five-year-old Abby had tried to depict. His hands held it tightly, his damp hair hung over his forehead, and his shoulders had tensed up again. When he looked up, his blue glinted with unshed tears.

"I don't know what to say," he mumbled. "I don't want to upset you."

She put her mug down on the coffee table and placed her hand on the knee he had folded under him. His other leg dangled over the edge of the couch. She squeezed his knee gently, beckoning him to look at her.

"Seeing you hurting upsets me," she said, her voice sounding more sure than she felt. "I wasn't out there with you, but I listened to everything."

He frowned, his brows knitting together, and Abby fought the urge to reach out and smooth the crease out.

"You heard us?"

Abby nodded. "I was in the command center with Warlock."

Bob sipped his tea before placing the mug on the coffee table next to hers. "I didn't know that."

His gaze was intense, but there was no hardness there, just a tenderness that spread warmth through Abby's chest and stomach.

She shrugged. "I thought you did."

He shook his head, looking down at his hands again. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes met hers.

"They started after the accident."

"After you and Phoenix had to eject?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I woke up that night in the infirmary and couldn't breathe. I thought it was a one-time thing."

"But it wasn't?"

This time, Bob shook his head. He reached for Abby's hand resting on his knee and started playing with her fingers. Her hand looked so small in his.

"They came back after the mission," he explained. "They are so vivid, and they feel so real. I dream that Phoenix and I get shot down or that Rooster and Mav don't make it back. I see me at their funerals, listening to the bugle and jets flying over us." 

He hesitated a moment, concentrating on Abby's hand in his. "I see you at my funeral," he whispered. "You're screaming at Nat because she didn't save me, then you start crying, and it's the most gut-wrenching sound I've ever heard. That's usually when I wake up."

"Usually?"

Bob's hands stilled, and his blue eyes met hers. He swallowed harshly. "Sometimes it changes after that," he muttered, looking down again. He resumed playing with her fingers, almost as if to soothe himself.

"I know it's hard," she told him firmly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

When his eyes locked on her again, they brimmed with tears. "The dream changes," he began, squeezing her hand now. "I don't know where I am, but the whole team is around me, looking like ghosts, asking me why I didn't save them."

Bob's bottom lip wobbled as he tried to hold back tears. "It's so real," he concluded, barely audible.

She watched him, not sure what to say. Her instinct was to tell him it wasn't his fault, but Bob already knew that. He also knew the dreams weren't technically real, but that didn't mean he could let them go.

"You did come back, though," Abby said softly. "Maverick and Rooster survived. You all did. You know how Admiral Simpson said it would take two miracles to pull that mission off? I don't think it was miracles that did it, but skill."

Bob opened his mouth to argue, an unusual thing for him, but Abby beat him to it.

"You are the best of the best in this country, but you're not invincible," she urged. "It's okay to break. All I'm asking is that you don't do it alone."

Bob cocked his head to the side, and for the first time since they woke up, there was a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He leaned forward and pressed a featherlight kiss to her cheek, her nose, and finally, her mouth.

"Thank you," he whispered and pecked her lips once more.

He didn't need to say it for her to know that he thanked her for listening, for being there, for assuring him that he was alive, and so was everyone else.

They finished their barely warm tea, placed the mugs in the sink to take care of in the morning, and walked back to the bedroom.

Bob tugged the t-shirt over his head, placing it on the dresser to use tomorrow. He laid down on his back, waiting for Abby to join him under the covers.

Abby crawled into bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and snuggled close to Bob. She placed her cheek against his bare shoulder, the feeling of fresh sheets and his warm skin overwhelming her senses, making her feel drowsy.

She snuck her arm around Bob's middle, hugging him tightly to her. He used his free hand to remove his glasses and placed them on the nightstand for safekeeping.

Abby's eyes got heavier, and somewhere between consciousness and sleep, she thought Bob might be the love of her life.

❋❋❋

main taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns, @raith-way

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[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Forgotten (Robert "Bob" Floyd Drabble)

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 1. Failed Escape

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob has been forgotten or overlooked his entire life. But it never really mattered…. until now.

Word Count: 512

TW: Main Character Death, Drowning

Notes: Thank you to @green-socks for looking this over for me! @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez, you asked for this! @mayhem24-7forever..... I'm sorry 😅😬

No one ever remembered the name Robert “Bob” Floyd. They would read it on their roster or on his file and have no recollection of the face that went along with it, even when he was standing right in front of them. And when they saw him in the halls or in the rec room, everyone always whispered, “Do you know who that guy is?” even after he had been training with them for weeks. He was the sort of person who seemed to only exist when he purposefully drew attention to himself.

But this was nothing new. Bob had been experiencing this for his entire life long before he joined the Naval Academy. His mother used to say that he was special in ways others couldn’t understand. His brother used to say he was boring. Yet, whatever the reason, he had come to accept that he would spend his life in total anonymity while he blended in with the wallpaper. After all, being noticed wasn’t the most important thing in life. 

And while this was true, being noticed was very necessary in some cases….

The last day of boot camp was a team exercise where everyone was strapped into seats in an old fuselage. The fuselage was then lowered into a pool of water where all the cadets would have to undo their harnesses and escape. It was meant to simulate a pilot being shot down into a lake or ocean and the need to evacuate a sinking plane. 

All the cadets found their seats and strapped in before having their harnesses examined for safety one last time. Then, once everything was set, the fuselage was lowered into the water. For the instructors watching from dry land, nothing happened for a moment. Then, heads began to break through the surface of the water as the pilots gasped for air. As more and more of them made it out, they all cheered and the instructors helped them out of the water.

Ten minutes later, they were sure everyone had gotten out. All the cadets looked around and didn’t see anyone missing. The instructors scanned the roster and didn’t notice anyone not accounted for. It was only when one of the safety crew members asked for an official headcount that people started to realize something was wrong. They were short one cadet, though no one for the life of them could figure out who. 

It wasn’t until they pulled the fuselage out of the water and looked inside that everyone remembered that there was one recruit previously unaccounted for. One recruit who was still strapped into his chair with his glasses peeking out of his front pocket and his wet hair plastered against his pale face. One recruit in the very last seat who’s safety harness no one had bothered to check before the exercise and had failed to open. One recruit who even as they stared at his lifeless body, no one could remember the name of.

Well, after that day, no one involved ever forgot the name Robert “Bob” Floyd again.

Taglist:@nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @luckyladycreator2, @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog,  @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @jamesbuckyburns, @a-sweet-little-fangirl, @happyblogstuff, @randomlifeunit, @boringusername3, @lclove2012-blog, @3tabbiesandalab, @zebralover

[sebsxphia]

The “who hurt you “ trope but you show up at Rhetts door at 2am

-🥊😘

“who hurt you?”

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ c/w: mentions of violence and injury, descriptions of injury, mentions of abuse, swearing, kissing, rhett is a big softie who wants to protect you.

￫ a/n: @sandbarbirdie bIRDIE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS TROPE WITH RHETT, TURN THIS UPPP <3 i started writing this and it turned into a full fic, woah! i understand this topic is heavy so please, please dm or inbox me with any c/w that i’ve missed or if you just want to talk, i’m here to listen, always. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett’s sure he heard the knocking on his front door. He was coming out of his slumber and couldn’t work out if it was in his dream, or real life, but then he heard the knocking again, far louder this time. He was sure that it was a pounding on his front door. He slipped on a pair of boxers from the day before and a plaid shirt was thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. It was freezing during the Wabang winters now and he would be damned if he was going to catch a cold.

He padded down the stairs and into his hallway to hear another pounding. His door was shaking with the force. “I’m coming, Jesus fu—” He unlocked the door and opened it to see you with your hands wrapped tightly around your arms, and trying to incase some of the warmth into your shaking frame from the cold. You peered up at him and squinted your eyes at the warm brightness inside his home. The light purple bruise on your eye that was starting to form made it harder to look at him. The gash on the side of your temple was boring into your skull, with dried blood trickling down onto your cheek. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath and your name in tow, before ushering you quickly you inside.

He shed the plaid shirt and wrapped it around your quivering shoulders. He gently cupped your face in the hallway where you both stood still and tilted you up to look at him. He was hyper-aware that there could be other injuries he wasn’t aware of. You looked at him with guilt spreading across your face. It was sheepish almost, but Rhett wore a look of only worry on his face.

“Who hurt you?” His tone was firm and unwavering.

You were childhood sweethearts long ago and you’d both enjoyed your younger teenage years together and early adult lives, but things got in the way and you were no longer together.

“Shit happens,” Is what you told Rhett, however you found in the more recent months, you were getting closer to each other again. Sometimes you wondered late at night if you could ever truly tear apart from one another. The relationship you held with each other could never be argued about or even understood. The only thing he knew is that he would bury someone in the ground for you and protect you with his still, beating heart.

His eyes bore into yours awaiting your reply. He was waiting for the name of who he was going to ruin the next day. You knew your Rhett and his tendencies to loose all control over anyone who would even dare to look your way, so you opted for the safer option, not looking him in the eye when you told him. You pulled away from his soft hold and stumbled to the kitchen chair and slouched down. “Darren.” You muttered out, looking down at your scuffed cowboy boots, a gift from Rhett for your twenty first birthday.

“Darren.” Rhett repeated with a grunt and clenched fists by his sides. Darren was your new fling and while Rhett knew about him, and he knew he had no real hold on you anymore, it burned at his insides like acid. Rhett also knew he had no place to ask what you were doing with Darren, but he needed to know why you showed up at his door at two in the morning with blood running down your face and a nasty bruise forming on your eye.

Rhett reached for the first aid kit in the top kitchen cupboard and came to kneel by your side in the dimly lit kitchen. His nostrils were flared and you saw how he was trying to steady his breathing. Shallow and deep breaths came out of him, and you knew he was already plotting his downfall.

Rhett broke the tense silence first. “What the fuck did Darren do t’ you, angel?”

That name. Fuck sake. That fucking name. Rhett’s words were laced with venom, poised and ready to attack your attacker but the name “angel,” simply made tears swell in your eyes and it stung the bruised one. You remembered when Rhett called you angel. It was always during the softer times at night when your bodies were entwined with each other, talking about your future together, or when he consoled you after you didn’t get into your dream college.

“He wasn’t aiming for me. He went for some guy standing next to me, but he ducked at the right time and Darren’s fist met me instead.”

Rhett scoffed and made a mental note that Darren had a lazy punch. That would be good to know for tomorrow.

He dipped the cotton ball in the luke warm water and dabbed cautiously at the wound on your temple. You let out a hiss, gritting your teeth together and scrunching your eyes shut. Another groan left your chapped lips as the pain in your eye swelled from the scrunching. You felt one of Rhett’s hands rest on your jean clad thigh and give it a reassuring squeeze, his thumb running soothing circles over your flesh. “I know, I know. It’s gon’ sting, I’m sorry.” Rhett never apologised to anyone. Only you.

“If it were me punching some guy f’ you, I wouldn’t do it anywhere near you.”

You huffed out a small laugh at Rhett’s attempt to ease the pain. “I know. I remember.” You reminded him.

“Did you drive?”

You hesitated on your answer. No matter the response, it wasn’t going to help you try and hide what happened.

“No, I ran.”

Rhett’s eyebrows twisted downwards ever so slightly.

“I live a good mile away from town, angel.”

“After everything happened I screamed at Darren, like I lost it Rhett.” You twiddled with the hem of your t-shirt as Rhett continued to patch you up. You still couldn’t look at him. You felt shame clouding your senses. “He lost it back at me. I’d never seen him like that. I mean sure, we’ve only been dating like a month, but… But you really see peoples true colours when they’re drunk, huh.”

Your statement was laced with a double meaning. You remembered when Rhett got drunk, sure he would defend you within an inch of your life, but he would never scream at you. Never. He would cling to you all night and whisper sweet nothings in your ear about how you were the only one for him. It stung more than the wound on the side of your face to know that you might’ve lost that.

Rhett stuck a butterfly band aid to the side of your face and cleaned up the rest of your blood. “‘nd the gash?” He paused. “He punched you, angel. Y’ don’t get that after a blow t’ the eye.”

Now Rhett was finished with bandaging you up, he could slip his hands to yours and give them a light squeeze. He wanted you to know that he was here. He was going to listen to anything you had to say and reassure you with all his might. The tears that had pooled in your eyes from before were now slipping over and onto your cheeks. You held his gaze and bit your bottom lip harshly. You were trying to stop the sobs that wanted to tear from your throat. You winced as you reminisced what followed after and how you got the gash.

You didn’t need to say it, Rhett knew.

His eyes softened at seeing you like this. He wanted to reassure you that he heard you, but he felt a bile form in his throat. He could feel it threatening to spew out of him. The idea of someone intentionally hurting his angel made him nauseous.

“I was s’ scared. I didn’t know anywhere else to go, expect here.” You blubbered out between small sobs now leaving your throat. Rhett shuffled closer to you and removed his hands from yours to hold your face again, lovingly.

“You don’t have t’ be scared anymore, angel. Y’ can always find your way back home ‘ere.”

You nodded in his hands and gave him a thankful look with all you could muster without your face contorting into pain again.

“Can I stay with you tonight, Rhett? Please?”

Rhett was baffled that you even had to ask, but he understood that the injuries could very easily adhere your thinking.

“Of course, angel. I’ll always protect you.” A featherlight kiss was pressed to your cheek. He could taste your salty tears and it only made his insides wrench further in disgust at the man, no boy, who hurt you. No man would do this.

He bent down and wrapped his arms around your waist, and you instinctively hoisted yourself onto his. You rested your head into the crook of his shoulder. One hand cradled your legs as they attached to his hips and another softly smoothed over the back of your hair. You inhaled his familiar scent of cedar wood and spearmint. You felt safe as Rhett carried you to his bed that was once yours as well.

He sat you on what used to be your side of the bed and the mattress moved underneath you, as if to welcome your figure that once laid there. He gently shed you of his plaid shirt and your t-shirt underneath. In between the loss of your clothes, he pressed another feather light kiss to your cheek.

“You okay?” He checked in with you. When you nodded in response, he retrieved your old sleep shirt from his chest of drawers. He shed a slither of embarrassment at the prospect of still keeping your clothes, but it melted away when you accepted it with the first smile on your face that he had seen all evening.

“Arms up,” His voice was a soft instruction. You did as he asked and he slipped the top over you. It fitted like a warm hug, something that always fitted you perfectly. Just like Rhett. “I’ll help y’ take off y’ jeans now alright, angel?” He knelt down and brushed his fingers over the button and zipper. He un-did them with ease and slipped your jeans off. It was like you were a deer that he had seen in the forest who he didn’t want to spook. You’d always appreciated Rhett’s softer side.

However, his softness contorted into ferocious anger once again on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he saw the second graze on your kneecap. “I fell to my knees after, he— he—” Your voice wavered again and you felt the tears sting at your waterline once more.

“I know, angel. I know. It’s not as bad as the others, I can patch it up tomorrow, alright?” Rhett reached up to wipe the one tear off your cheek. His lips gently met your flesh just above the graze on your kneecap and you sniffled at his adoring touch.

All clothes and shoes were now shed, and he picked up the empty glass on his bedside table. He went to leave the room but you stopped him in the doorway with a hold on his wrist. You looked at him with a pleading look and a small pout on your lips. You didn’t want him to leave you.

“It’s okay, angel. I’m jus’ goin’ t’ the bathroom t’ get you some water.” You hesitantly let go and got back into bed, shuffling up to the headboard and tucking your knees under your chin.

The weight of the mattress dipped again when Rhett sat next to you. He held the glass at the base while your still trembling hands held onto one side, helping you drink. “I’ll fill it up again for the night ‘nd then come into bed with you, alright?” He pressed a kiss to your temple, the side that wasn’t injured. You nodded in response and pulled the covers over your body, and slouched down into the pillows.

They smelt like Rhett, and you inhaled his scent and hair products again, deeper this time. The smell that flooded your nostrils made you inhale deeply. You felt a breath you’d been holding onto all night slip out. Rhett came back and made his way round to the other side of the bed. He slinked in beside you and you could feel his fingers rest on your upper arm first, testing the waters. He felt you relax under his touch and he took it as a welcome signal. You shuffled back into him and he slid his arm around yours and pulled you into his warm chest, his chin resting just above your head.

Another kiss was placed to the top of your head and you heard Rhett speak up, his drawl coaxing his words. A familiarity you’d missed so much recently. “You’re safe, angel. I’m never lettin’ you go again.”

That was the last thing you heard Rhett murmur to you before you fell asleep in his arms. Safe at last.

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@tallrock35

@iloveprettyboysblog

[bradshawsbaby]

“please don’t scare me like that again.  i can take a lot of things,  but not losing you” with bob? boyfriend on board with be so Emotional if you said this to him🥺😭

I feel like this is the perfect prompt for a little post-bird strike scene!

Nothing could have prepared you for the terror you felt when you picked up the phone one sunny afternoon, the stoic voice of Vice Admiral Simpson reporting that your fiancé had been involved in a training accident and was being held in the infirmary for observation.

Bird strike. Ejection. Burn in. They were nothing but words, disjointed phrases floating around in your muddled brain like alphabet soup as you slid to the floor, phone pressed tightly to your ear even as you struggled to make sense of what the man on the other end of the line was saying.

You knew that what your future husband did for a living was dangerous. Heck, it was one of the most dangerous professions out there. And you had known as well as he that when he got called back to TOPGUN for a top secret training mission, there was a chance you would never see him again.

But now that that chance had nearly become a reality, you found that you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t force any of the words you wanted to get out past your lips.

“Is he—is he going to be alright?” you finally managed to say after a shaky breath. There was a chance you’d cut off Vice Admiral Simpson, but you couldn’t be sure.

There was a pause for half a heartbeat, then he said, “Yes. He should be. He’s resting now, but I’ll leave a message for him to call you as soon as he’s able.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, the tears starting to flow once you hung up.

You sat vigil by your phone for the next two hours, until it finally began buzzing with a FaceTime call.

“Bob!” you sobbed out as soon as his precious face filled your screen.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted you, attempting a lighthearted tone despite the fact that his face was battered and bruised and his voice rasped with exhaustion.

“Are you okay?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice down and stop yourself from overwhelming him. “Vice Admiral Simpson called and I was so worried! What’s happening? Should I fly out there? Are you—”

“Hey, hey,” Bob cooed gently, holding his hand up to the camera as if he could touch your face through the screen. “I’m alright. I promise. A little banged up, to be expected, but the doctors said I’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

“Oh, Bob,” you gasped, weeping in relief. “Please don’t scare me like that again,” you begged him. “I can take a lot of things, but not losing you. I’d never survive that.”

You could tell, even through the phone, that your words had made him emotional. His throat was bobbing as he fought back tears, his blue eyes welling up as he looked at you.

“Oh, sweetheart, I never want to put you through that,” he whispered. “I’m going to come home to you. I promise.”

Sniffling softly, you curled up on the couch, holding your phone close to your face. “Can you stay for a little while? I just want to look at you.”

Bob smiled, nodding as he brought his own phone a bit closer to his face. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

soft(ish) angst prompts

[ghxst-heart]

ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ ─ ʀʜᴇᴛᴛ ᴀʙʙᴏᴛᴛ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rhett wasn’t a religious man; he hadn’t been for a long time.  Still, he went to church with his family every Sunday and kept his eyes trained on the pulpit.  His mother thought that he was finally taking in what Pastor Simon said to heart, but only one thing could have the youngest Abbott so entranced; the preacher’s daughter that dutifully sat in the front row, every Sunday. ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 18+, MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol and hangovers, small descriptions of sexual acts, more to come in full fic. ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪɴғᴏ: Pronouns used are She/Her/Hers, AFAB!Reader, beginnings of a FWB relationship between Rhett and Reader. This is an excerpt from a full-length fic, linked here! ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: Fem!Reader, Romantic!Reader X Rhett Abbott ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1k ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ: MINORS DNI!! My blog is strictly 18+!! Any minors or ageless/blank blogs interacting with my fics or my blog will be blocked (and, yes, I do check). I can't stop you from reading my fics, but I can stop you from accessing my fics if my boundaries aren't respected. Your media consumption is your own responsibility, just as it is mine regarding what I post. Please tread thoughtfully and carefully, and keep yourselves happy, healthy, and safe.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The air in the sanctuary was thick as Pastor Simon droned through his sermon, pacing the length of the pulpit with his bible clutched tightly in his old hands.  His voice boomed through the small space, echoing off the wood-paneled walls and resounding in Rhett’s ears as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head.  His Stetson hung low over his forehead, trying to shield his sensitive blue eyes from the blinding morning light seeping through the windows.  His hangovers were never this intense; either he had drunk too much the previous night, or Pastor Simon’s voice was so boring that it was causing him physical pain.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett felt a harsh pinch on his thigh, and he flinched, ready to snap at whoever bothered him, but he quickly realized that it was his mother silently reminding him to stay awake.  His mouth fell into a sarcastic sneer before he recovered and offered his mother a firm nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile to appease her.  Cecilia frowned, and he fought against a whiney comment, instead opting for a quiet grumble as he sat up straight in his chair.  He gave her a pointed look and removed his Stetson from his head, and she hummed in approval, pleased that he had taken her silent direction.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett hadn’t thought that his silent squabble had earned anyone’s attention, but he knew he had been caught when his eyes met the pastor’s daughter’s gaze across the room.  (Y/N) had turned her head over her shoulder, a small, amused smile on her face as she watched Cecilia scold Rhett as if he were five years old again.  Rhett readjusted in his seat, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he felt the tips of his ears begin to burn with embarrassment under her stare.  (Y/N)’s head tilted slightly as if she were asking him a question, but before he could think of an answer to a question he didn’t know, she returned her attention to the pulpit, nodding along with her father’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott’s man kept his eyes on (Y/N) as she gathered her hair in her hands and let the strands settle over one shoulder, exposing her neck to his eyes.  Her fingertips grazed her skin, nails lightly scratching the base of her throat before she dropped her hand to her lap again.  Her chin tilted up, extending her neck and stretching her muscles before she relaxed, dropping her chin so she could read the bible resting over her knees.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The way that Rhett and (Y/N) were seated gave them direct views of one another, and Rhett could see most of her body.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles, relaxed against the seat of her chair.  Her skirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.  She mindlessly toyed with the hem, pulling it higher and higher up her leg.  Rhett thickly swallowed, letting his mind swim with sinful thoughts of marking up her legs, littering them with pretty purple bruises and lovebites.  He thought of kneading the soft flesh with his calloused hands, relishing in the goosebumps he would leave behind, and how the plush fat would feel wrapped around his head, muffling his hearing so he’d only just barely hear the beautiful noises he would draw out of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was thrown from his thoughts when (Y/N) suddenly readjusted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and swiveling her body, so she was sitting sideways on the chair.  He panicked, body flushing with embarrassment as his eyes flashed up to her face, finding that she was already staring at him.  He had been caught staring at her legs, his mind running rampant with fantasies.  (Y/N) grinned, her teeth chewing on her lip as she let her eyes wander over Rhett’s body before she looked at the pulpit once more, pretending as if she hadn’t exposed Rhett’s shamelessness in checking her out.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) had always been an interesting woman.  She was the epitome of a pastor’s daughter.  She attended church every Sunday, helped out in the daycare on weekdays, was active in the Women’s Group, and helped plan fundraising events for families in the congregation that needed extra funds.  She never did anything wrong, anything sinful, and always said the nicest things with a bright smile on her face.  She wore conservative clothes, nothing too tight or revealing, and her face was always cleared of heavy makeup, giving her such an innocent look with lightly coated lashes, soft rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.  But Rhett had always thought there was something more just underneath the surface.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They had grown up together, going through elementary to high school in the same classes.  While Rhett grew rebellious and ambitious to achieve fame as a bull rider, (Y/N) remained the sweet, innocent girl that was content to live her life in Wabang as the pastor’s daughter.  By graduation, they were nothing more than strangers to one another, their reputations landing them on different ends of Wabang High’s social stratosphere.  But that didn’t stop Rhett from watching her as she led the congregation in song or served food at the church’s monthly luncheon, blushing when she’d catch his eye or muttering an excuse to leave before his stomach would lurch with a delicious, yet sometimes overwhelming, fluttery feeling.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was too young and stupid to realize what his longing looks and flustered words around her meant.  He was too naive to understand that his nerves and the funny feeling in his stomach meant more than just a childhood crush.  For years, the youngest Abbott oftentimes tried to convince himself that he was just imagining the lingering stares or the suggestive brushing of her fingertips against him when she passed him.  He tried to brush it off as his darkest fantasies trying to turn polite glances and innocent touches into something more, his mind playing cruel tricks on him in place of his lonesome nights.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎But that was before they grew up.  Now, after being in the world and experiencing real attraction, real lust, he was convinced that it was something more.  He was convinced that (Y/N) knew what she was doing and that she was purposeful in how she looked at him or placed her hand over his when handing him his food at the luncheons.  He was certain now that he wasn’t imagining things when she smirked and turned away, continuing to innocently play with her skirt and show Rhett more and more of her skin after she’d caught him.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: So this is a little excerpt from a Rhett Abbott fic that I'm working on. This will be a smut fic, and with that being said, it will be an 18+ fic only. I'm a little nervous posting this as this is my first time writing for Rhett, but I would love to hear your thoughts! Love you all so, so much!

If you'd like to be added to any of my taglists, click here!

[rhettmotel]

￫ Description: Rhett takes you, his little, to a museum

￫ c/w: This contains age regression and the use of a pullup.

￫ a/n: no use of y/n, no pronouns, again contains non-sexual age regression

"Daddy, I wanna see the stars!" You whine, pulling on his hand that you were currently holding.

Rhett only chuckles. "I know you want to see the stars, bug, but the stars are at the very end; don't you wanna see everything else? Don't you wanna see the dinosaurs?"

You had both decided that it would feel better once you got used to being in littlespace out in public and that the museum was the next step. They had just installed a space exhibit, and you were all too excited to see it.

"Dinosaurs are scary," You mumble, squeezing his hand. Once he pays for the entry fee and you get inside, he crouches down in front of you, something that always makes you feel smaller.

"Okay, little bug. Do you remember the rules?" He asks.

You nod. "No running off, no touching unless the sign says you can and tell Daddy when I have to go potty," You grin, proud that you remembered.

"That's right, you're so smart," He smiles, putting his hands on either side of your face and kissing your forehead. Rhett knew that this entire place would be far too busy and exciting for you to think about using the bathroom, eating or drinking, so he put snacks and a water bottle in his bag and you in a pull-up, just in case.

The first exhibit is the health one, which is pretty boring; if anyone asked you, there was not much to do, just lots to read, but there was one little thing where you put your hand under a green light to be able to see the veins under your skin. At first, you didn't want to do it; it was scary, and you couldn't help but yank your hand away with a whimper when Rhett tried to move it closer.

"It won't hurt you, love." He assures. "It's just a light. Here, Daddy will show you," Rhett places his hand under the light, and you watch in awe as the blue veins under the skin in his hand become visible. "Cool, huh?" He smiles, "Now you try."

You're still a little apprehensive about it, but you always trust Rhett, so you place your hand under the green, glowing light and watch as your veins come into view before yanking your hand out again. Now that you know for sure it doesn't hurt, you do it a few more times with a soft giggle.

The next exhibit is the dinosaurs, one that you weren't excited for, but had to go through to get to the space exhibit. "Daddy, up." You say, reaching out for Rhett, knowing that you would feel much safer in his arms.

He looks around, noting how many people are there. "Daddy can't pick you up here, lovebug," He informs gently. "Maybe if there's something you can touch that you can't reach, but I can only carry you around at home." It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he didn't want anyone to ask questions while you were out in public like this. Of course, he knew that you would pout, but luckily, the space exhibit was next. "Why don't we dig for some dinosaur bones and then go look at the stars," He smiles, trying to redirect you.

It seemed to work because you rushed over to the interactive sand pit where, mainly little kids, could use a brush and a shovel to dig for plastic dinosaur bones. Finding all the bones didn't take too long, even in your headspace, and you were excited to move on.

There was a small table filled with water and plants, with sand at the bottom, and you peered into it. "Can I touch this one?" You ask, frowning up at Rhett.

"Sign says you can," Rhett nods.

You look down at the water again and then back up at him. "No, I don't want to," You say, walking right off.

The laugh that leaves Rhett is from his chest, surprised and hearty. Sometimes, he forgot how much he loved you in littlespace. You were at your happiest and your most authentic, never caring about what other people thought and never doing anything you didn't want to do.

Once you walked through the last bit of the dinosaurs and through the big black doors that led to the newly added space exhibit, Rhett noticed how you had become slightly fidgety, unable to stand still. It could very well be your excitement but he wouldn't be a very good caregiver if he didn't check in. "Bug," He starts, speaking low and close to you so that no one else could hear. "Do you need to use the potty?"

"Uh-Uh," You shake your head. You had just gotten to the space exhibit; there was no way that you were gonna waste your time going to the bathroom.

"Are you sure?" he asks, with a raised eyebrow, still noting how you shifted your weight from foot to foot, before brushing his hand over the front of your pants lightly. It was as discreet of a check he could do here, wanting to see if you had already had an accident. Thankfully, you hadn't. "I think that maybe we should try,"

"No, I don't have to go."

"I know you don't want to go, but we'll come right back, I promise."

At this point, you weren't even listening, too busy looking through a reflective telescope that lets you see a simulated version of all the constellations while you continued to squirm.

Rhett sighs and runs a hand over his face, then freezes, an idea popping into his head. "I know you don't have to go," He says, walking up to you again, "But Daddy has to go, and you wouldn't make me go all by myself, would you?"

That makes you whip around to look at him. "No, I want to go with you!" You say, taking his hand again, which makes him smirk. You never wanted to be too far away from him, especially when little and at times like this, it really worked out for Rhett.

With both of you in the bathroom, you couldn't ignore your full bladder anymore, squirming relentlessly and grabbing at yourself. "Daddy, I have to go!" You whine before he's even finished getting his oversized belt buckle unclipped.

"Okay, okay, you go first," He says, helping you pull down your pants and your pull-up, which was slightly damp before you void your bladder into the toilet.

Rhett smiles, happy that he got you to go and slightly proud that you held it long enough to make it. "You are so big, love. Daddy's big bug, not having any accidents or making any messes." He says, grabbing you a new pull-up from his bag.

"No," You pout, frowning deeply. "Daddy's little bug," you correct stubbornly, making him chuckle, once again.

"Okay, you're right, you're Daddy's little bug," He smiles, pulling the new padded underwear up over your thighs. "Now, what'dya say we go look at some stars and planets, hm?"

[roosterbruiser]

Prompt:

kissing in the rain with Rhett??

the storm came out of nowhere. crackling across the sky, the lightning is as menacing as it is bright and the clouds are ominous as they are dark.

you don't recall them calling for rain when you were sipping your coffee and listening to the radio early this morning, but here you are: standing in the east pasture, a good and long ride away from the Abbott household, hastily gathering the remnants of your lunch and hurriedly packing your horse up.

so long blue sky, you think.

as if it heard you, thunder rolls across the sky and shakes the yellow grass you stand upon.

you're just about to throw your leg over your horse, hipping your cowgirl hat back on your hat to get a good look at the horizon, when you hear the unmistakable sound of hoofs stamping the mud.

just like you knew he would be, Rhett is riding up just yonder, his striped shirt crudely buttoned from when he threw it back on at the first sign of the storm. his horse is making good time, the mud flinging up from its hooves and kissing its belly.

Rhett knew you were alone out in the east pasture, taking your lunch as you let your horse graze. and he also knows that the east pasture in particular takes a beating when storms roll in. so, even though he wasn't anywhere near finished with his task of repairing the fence, he hopped on his horse and started your way immediately.

"hey!" you call over the thunder when Rhett's in earshot. "fancy seeing' you here, stud!"

he's grinning at you in that Rhett kind of way--like his face doesn't want to really make the effort to contort into a smile, but he's just bursting from within and absolutely has to.

"darlin'," he says in greeting, tipping his hat as he halts his horse beside yours. "nasty storms comin' in. just came to make sure my little wife gets back home alright."

wife--it's new, only a few weeks. it still makes your heart squeeze with affection, your chest hot with love.

"I reckon I'll be alright," you tell him hands on your hips.

but he's already dismounting from his horse. as soon as his cowboy boots thud against the ground, the rain begins. fat, thick droplets that pelt the two of you like pebbles falling from the sky.

"shit!" he yells, but he's still grinning at you as he makes his way to your figure.

you're squinting up at the sky, hands on your hips.

"sure didn't waste any time, huh?" you call over the thunder.

he shakes his head, wrapping an arm around you. he had the right idea coming to you: he was gonna get you saddled up with him and lead your horse behind his before you got caught in the rain. but it's too late now, so he submits to it. if he's gonna get wet, he's gonna get wet. no use fussing about it.

"you ever been kissed in the rain, girl?" he asks, a smile tugging on his lips.

you stroke his scruff, nose wrinkling as you pretend to think about it.

"who's askin'?" you tease.

"your husband," he says gruffly, pulling your belly flush against his.

shaking your head, you push his hat a bit higher on his head so you can see more of that sun kissed face you love so much.

"in that case," you tease as Rhett mimics you, pushing your hat higher up on your head. "no, I haven't."

without further a-do, Rhett closes the space between your lips, holding your hat on your head with his free hand as your neck bends backwards. he knows you in and out, has loved you since you were but mites, and still feels like the luckiest goddamn cowboy in all of Montana to get to kiss you in the rain.