#rhett/reader

[holy-minseok]

We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

[rhettabbotts]

baby, if you only knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: tensions boil over and everything changes for you and rhett one night at a rancher’s event you attend.

w/c: 5.4k (she’s a mammoth)

warnings: 18+ only. smut. age gap (babysitter 20s, rhett 40s). dirty talk. making out in an elevator. daddy kink. possessive rhett. slightly rough sex. cunnilingus. hair pulling. overstimulation. size kink. aftercare. rhett’s grey hair. some fluff.

a/n: i can see you by taylor swift is to blame for this. enjoy the filth! also couldn’t stop myself from adding some babysitter lore. also see green, green dress from tick, tick…boom! for the dress reference!

Six months. Six long, tortuous months of working under Rhett Abbott’s roof.

Okay, it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be in your head. His daughters were angels, and you appreciated that he worked with your school schedule as you attended your graduate program. And he let you live in his guest room rent free.

But it was sweet torture. You had fallen hard for the single father of two and it made every day even harder than the last. Rhett was a wonderful man, an attentive father, and a hell of a cook. A hard worker and he was so handsome, you could hardly breathe around him. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the cowboy?

You tried everything in the world to rid your thoughts of him, but you were highly unsuccessful. And he only did things that made it worse. Every time you brushed by him in the halls it felt like electricity coursed through your entire body. He had to feel it too, right?

Delusional. That’s what you were. You were the babysitter. Nothing more. Eventually, the girls would grow up and you wouldn’t be needed anymore. And that thought caused your chest to tighten painfully.

What a thought to have while washing the dishes. You heard your name but it sounded far off, like your ears were full of cotton.

“Tilly, come quick!” Grace shouted once more to get your attention. It made you turn abruptly, soap suds went flying as you dropped the ceramic pot you were washing. “Sorry,” she mumbled when you glared slightly at her.

“What’s wrong, Gracie?” you questioned as you wiped your hands off with the flower embroidered kitchen towel. Something you bought and put out to leave your own touch on this place.

“Oh. Nothing. Ellie just wanted to show you that we won our game.” The girls had been obsessed with Super Mario Brothers and had been playing it for days.

“That’s great guys! How about we take a break and you help me get dinner started?”

“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” Ellie, Rhett’s younger daughter pouted, bright blue eyes pleading. She and Grace were the carbon copies of Rhett. Same eyes, same nose, same crooked smile. You could never say no to them.

“Of course. But don’t tell your dad,” you whispered, placing your finger to your lips like it was a top secret.

The girls helped you finish the food just as Rhett came in from another long day of herding and branding cattle. He was dusty, covered in dirt and sweat and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead, the ends curling up. You wanted to run your fingers through it, sweat be damned.

“Daddy!” “Daddy, look at what we made!”

The girls ran towards Rhett, pausing when they got close enough to smell him.

“You stink,” Grace commented flatly.

“Thanks. Love you too. Listen, I’m gonna go shower and I’ll be down in a bit. You all can start without me,” Rhett said as he kicked his boots off by the door and took the stairs two at a time. “Oh, and Tilly?” He called from the upstairs landing.

“Yeah?”

“I gotta ask you something later. Don’t let me forget.”

You just nodded, stomach turning at the thought of what it could be.

Grace and Ellie helped you set the table, always eager to follow your every move. It makes you smile. Sometimes you felt like an actual family. And then you had to bring yourself back to reality. Just the nanny. Nothing more. Dinner was quiet, everyone was hungry and occupied with getting their bellies full.

You were resting on the couch as Rhett finished bath and bed time with the girls, trying to read your latest book but your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Your heart started to beat faster as you heard Rhett descend down the stairs.

Rhett took himself to the kitchen, busying himself by pouring a glass of whiskey. A bottle you bought for him for Christmas the year prior. You peeked at him over the top of your book, watching his back muscles flex in the tight black tee he wore. Your mouth watered at the sight of his strong arms and his soft stomach as he turned to face you.

You quickly raised the book above your eyes, fearing that you had been caught staring. You missed Rhett’s knowing smirk.

“Move over,” Rhett poked at the bottom of your foot, the motion tickling you ever so slightly and causing you to jerk your leg towards you. “What are you reading? New dirty novel?” He teased.

“No…” you said quietly, a little shamefully.

“Liar. Is this one better than the last at least?”

“So far. Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier?” You stretched your legs back out and they landed in Rhett’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind. His unoccupied hand landed on your shin, calloused thumb lightly brushing the bone there. Your mind went blank and you could hear nothing but static in your ears.

“I got invited to this rancher’s event. They want me to give a speech. Stupid, but I agreed. And I… I need a plus one. And I figured maybe if you wanted to-“

“Yes!” You said eagerly, spine straightening. “I mean- sorry- go ahead…” Your cheeks felt hot at your abruptness. He was probably going to ask you to set him up with someone. Probably Lisa, Ellie’s dance teacher. She always had her eye on him.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me. Give you a break. It’s the weekend my parents wanted to take the girls camping. That is.. if you didn’t have any plans…”

Rhett sounded nervous. He was looking down at where his hand rested on your leg, avoiding all eye contact.

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll go with you. As-“

“Friends, of course.”

“Right. Friends. What’s the dress code?” You asked, heart sinking slightly.

“Black tie,” Rhett grumbled. He hated dressing up. If he can’t wear flannel, he doesn’t want to be there.

“Perfect. I’ll find a dress to wear.”

“Well. I’ll leave you to the reading. Goodnight, Tilly.” Rhett tapped your leg a couple of times before moving you so he could stand.

You sighed deeply as he left the room, trying to ignore the gut wrenching feeling you had at his response. You couldn’t focus on your book and you eventually went upstairs to attempt to sleep.

“I want you so bad,” Rhett growled against your neck, teeth sinking into your skin causing you to whimper and arch against him. His leg was in between yours, keeping your thighs separated and your barely covered cunt brush against his suit pants. “You’re fucking soaked, sweet girl. You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”

“Rhett, please!” You whined pathetically, grinding down on his thigh, searching for any sort of relief.

“Beg for it, baby. Beg for daddy. Tell me what you want.” Rhett said, voice low and gravelly. He pressed you into the wall harder, flexing his thigh as you keened. “I know you want me to fu-“

“Tillyyyyyy, wake uppppp,” a tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Your eyes shot open so fast it made your head spin. Your entire body was hot even though you just had the sheet covering you and the ceiling fan was on. You were having a dream about Rhett. A fucking wet dream. And now Ellie was yelling at you in the hallway. You felt like you were being punished.

You checked your phone. 5:37am. Jesus, why was she awake?

“I’m up, El. Hold your horses.” You went to the en-suite bathroom to splash cold water on your face. “Get yourself together. Now,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at yourself in the mirror.

The four-year-old stood outside your door with her stuffed horse tucked under her arms. Her eyes were a little red and she was sniffling.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I feel sick,” she whispered weakly, clutching the horse to her chest tighter.

“Come on, bug. I’ll get you some medicine.”

You picked her up and perched her on your hip as you carried her down the stairs. Her forehead felt a little warm. She sat patiently on the counter while you poured the medicine in the little cup and you rubbed her back as she swallowed it.

“Good job, El! I’m proud of you. Here, drink some water and let’s get you back to bed, okay?”

She nodded as she took a big gulp of water from her sippy cup. You trotted back up the stairs, bouncing her slightly to make her giggle.

“Alright, you got your water here and Honey is right here with you. Try to get some sleep, bug. I’ll fix pancakes when you wake up.” You tucked Ellie in, kissing her forehead before you stood up.

Her eyes were already heavy and she mumbled something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

“Luh you, mama.” She repeated sleepily, snuggling her horse and then started snoring softly immediately.

“Oh… I- I love you too, bug.”

You didn’t know how to react. She had never called you that before and it made your eyes misty with tears. You couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after the dream and not after Ellie calling you mama.

The next few hours went by in a blur. You had planned to go shopping with your friend Tabitha to find your dress for the dinner. After dropping the girls off at school, you met Tabitha at the mall. You were in a daze, barely listening to her rant about her latest failed Tinder date.

“Hellooooo,” she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, sorry. No, I’m just- I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sighed as you placed your face in your hands.

“What do you mean?”

“With Rhett! It’s like- why am I going to this dinner? Why do I keep torturing myself? And Ellie! She called me her mom this morning! I want a family and I feel like I have it but it’s not really mine, you know?”

“You need to get laid. That’s what you need,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She looked through the dresses on the rack in the store you were in. “Oh. My. God. This. This dress. Go try it on. NOW!”

She shoved a velvet dress into your arms and pushed you towards the fitting rooms. It was a deep green color, the fabric felt soft against your skin. It wasn’t a dress you would pick out for yourself but once you slid it over your head your jaw dropped at the sight in the mirror.

The bodice was a corset type, something you didn’t typically reach for but was pleasantly surprised at how it looked on you. The dress was form fitting but not uncomfortably so. The strap tied around your neck, lifting your chest and displaying the tops of your breasts tastefully.

The dress hugged your every curve, accentuating parts of your body you weren’t necessarily happy with, but now you felt sexy. Powerful. You opened the door and called for Tabitha. She came running with a few other options in her hands but her reaction matched your own as she laid eyes on you.

“Holy fuck. Yeah, no, forget these. You have to get that one. If he doesn’t fuck you, I will.”

You rolled her eyes at her antics and looked into the mirror once more. You felt so beautiful in the dress. It made you a little giddy at the thought of Rhett’s reaction. If he even had one. You tried to shake the negative thought away. If he didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe a nice cowboy who’d be down for a one night stand at a fancy hotel.

The week passed by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Rhett was packing the girls’ bags for their camping trip and was shouting up at you that he was going to pick up his suit in town from the tailor’s.

You took your time styling your hair the way you liked and you did your makeup, keeping it light but putting on a red lip. Just to be a little bold.

You hid in your room until you heard Rhett finish getting ready and head down the stairs.

“Tilly, you ready? We should leave so-“ Rhett stopped as he turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the wood. “Wow…” he breathed. “You look, ehem, you look nice. That’s a pretty dress.” He fiddled with his cuff links, avoiding eye contact.

“Thank you,” you responded shyly. He held his arm out to escort you to the black pickup truck. The ride was silent except for the radio and the hum of the engine. You couldn’t stop from looking to Rhett. His hair was slicked back, the gray hair looked more prominent. His temples were nearly white. He had a shadow of stubble on his jaw and his suit fit him in all the right places.

You pulled up to a beautiful hotel. It was a grand building, accents of gold sparkled in the setting sun and gorgeous flowers lined the walkways. Rows of trucks indicated that you were at the right place. And the men in bolo ties and cowboy hats gave it away.

Rhett forwent his Stetson and chose a sleek black tie, looking a little out of place but you thought he looked beautiful.

He parked and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and closing his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his forearm.

“Huh? Yeah. M’good. Just nervous. I can’t stand half the people in that room,” he mumbled, smiling softly at you. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’ll do great. I can fake an emergency if needed.”

“Fall down the stairs if I give you a look,” Rhett joked.

“You got it, boss,” you winked at him. You reached for the door handle, preparing to get out of the truck but his hand on your arm now stopped you.

“Wait… I have something for you. A token of appreciation for coming with me. Also, an early birthday present.”

Rhett pulled a long, rectangular box from the side of the door. He opened it to show a diamond bracelet.

“Rhett- that’s- I can’t-“ You couldn’t stop from reaching out and running your fingers along the jewels.

“You deserve it. You work so hard and I don’t say it enough but you mean a lot to me. To the girls. Just wanted to give you something nice,” he said, voice a little shaky.

Something shifted as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. His touch lingered on your skin and it was hard for you to breathe. You tried so hard to keep things professional, but it’s changed. Everything has changed in the cab of Rhett’s truck.

You headed inside, arm linked with Rhett’s as he greeted the people inside. He was so charismatic, putting on a face you’d never seen before. It was sexy. He was controlling the room. Everyone loved him.

You could feel eyes following you as you walked towards the front of the ballroom. You heard a few whispers from the older women, surely gossiping about the obvious age gap between you and your employer.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks. You gonna be okay here?” Rhett whispered in your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine.

“I’ll be good. Can you get me a Long Island?”

“Of course. Be right back.” He hurried off towards the bar, getting stopped several times along the way. You felt like a fish out of water here. You chewed on your thumb nail, anxiously waiting for Rhett to come back.

“I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see the chair to your right being pulled away and a young man, around your age, sat down beside you. His black cowboy hat hid his eyes but he had a wide smirk on his face.

“I bet you’ve said that at least ten times tonight,” you responded, trying to ignore him.

“Name’s Wes. And you are-“

“Not interested. Beat it, buddy,” Rhett growled as he sat your drinks down and sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair possessively.

“I see how it is. Rhett… good to see you.”

Rhett hummed as he glared at Wes over the rim of his glass, silently willing him to scram. It was hot.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“He’s trouble,” Rhett mumbled.

The evening went on without a hitch. Dinner was decent and you joined in on a few conversations. Rhett’s speech was wonderful and informative about the cattle business. He looked good on stage but you knew he was nervous. He made his way back to you, smiling slightly.

“Come dance with me, honey,” he spoke lowly.

“Let me go freshen up a bit,” you squeaked, rushing to the bathroom. Your nerves were getting the best of you. It was just a dance. A quick dance and you’d be heading home. Nothing more.

You made your way back to the ballroom, catching Rhett’s eyes and you trembled slightly at the heat that formed there. A slow song started just as you made your way to the dance floor.

His large hand engulfed yours as his other splayed on the low of your back. You could smell his cologne as he pulled you close to him. You felt a piece of paper in your right palm as Rhett swayed the two of you around.

“What’s that?”

“You can read it when we’re done dancin’,” Rhett drawled, looking down at you. Even with you in heels, his frame still towered over you.

The song ended too quickly for your liking and Rhett was called over to a table filled with older gentlemen, leaving you standing in the middle of the floor. The crumpled napkin had been left in your hand and you spread it out to read the note.

Meet me at the staircase by the piano - R

You gasped slightly and looked around, meeting Rhett’s eyes as he chatted with the group he was with. He was expressionless but there was a fire in his eyes again. One that made your body react and you tried not to squeeze your thighs together in front of everyone there. You made your way back to your table to drink the rest of your drink, a little liquid courage, before you made your way to the staircase.

You stood there for what felt like ages but in reality was only a few minutes. You bounced on your feet, nerves building every second that passed.

“Hey, you,” Rhett’s voice called from behind you, approaching you with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you responded, feeling awkward.

Rhett pulled a key from his pocket. A hotel room key. Room 475 engraved in the key tag.

“You can say no. You can tell me to fuck off. You can quit-“

“Yes,” the answer came without a beat.

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his thin lips.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, Rhett,” you confessed, breathless.

Rhett let out a desperate noise as he reached for you and crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head. You moaned wantonly as his tongue expertly licked into your mouth. You should go upstairs, should stop before anyone sees you.

“Rhett, we should- we need to-“

“Yeah… Yeah.”

His hand linked with yours as he pulled you to the elevator, not wasting time pushing you inside and against the wall, the railing digging into your lower spine a bit uncomfortably. His lips reconnected with yours, a low grunt escaping his throat.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, lips barely leaving yours. Hands explored your body, gripping at your soft hips and thighs, circling around to grab handfuls of your ass. The touch caused you to arch your body towards his, back bowing as he traveled higher and started palming your breast.

“I’ve thought about this - thought about you - for longer than I’d like to admit,” Rhett spoke, deep voice rattling in his chest. “Makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

You just whined pathetically, gripping at his lapels to anchor yourself. You were about to grind against the thigh that had pushed its way between your thighs but the high pitched ding of the elevator caused you to jump apart. Moving so fast, you would have thought you had been electrocuted.

A little old lady walked into the elevator, not missing the way you and Rhett looked disheveled. It was blatantly obvious what you were just doing. Rhett cracked a smile at her, nodding his head in her direction. Your chest was still heaving and your knees felt shaky.

She only went up two floors, a quick ride that felt like an eternity. Rhett’s pinky brushed against your hand where it rested on the rail, the small touch sending shocks through you.

“Have a nice evenin, ma’am,” Rhett said sickeningly sweet and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh at the look she threw his way as she exited the lift.

Your stop was next and nerves bubbled in your stomach at what was about to happen.

Silence surrounded you and Rhett now as you walked to the room. Not a word was spoken as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. You stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wringing your hands together as you looked toward the wooden floor.

Rhett tossed his jacket haphazardly onto the floor, approaching you slowly. Giving you the chance to run. It reminded you of a lion stalking a gazelle before it pounced. His calloused hands rubbed the length of your arms before his touch brushed the side of your neck, eventually cupping your face. A rough thumb caressed your cheekbone.

“Darlin’, look at me. Please,” Rhett spoke quietly, as if not to scare you. You continued to look down, which caused him to pinch your chin and lift your gaze to him. “Are you sure about this? We can- we don’t have to-“

“No. No, I want to. I have for a while. A long, long while.”

“Good,” he said, coming out an octave lower and his eyes landed on your red covered lips. His thumb ran across the pout of your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “I want to devour you.”

A shaky breath escaped you before you wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking softly on the digit.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

You stood there for a moment, his thumb in your mouth and your eyes locked on each other. It made tensions rise tenfold. You pulled away with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva following in its wake.

Impatience got the best of you as you started clawing at his tie and shirt buttons, nearly sending them flying through the room. Rhett chuckled at your huffy breaths of frustration as you yanked on his clothing. You threw the tie behind you, his shirt was shoved off his shoulder and into the chair next to the door. His belt made a loud clink as it hit the window.

“Easy, girl. Don’t destroy the room. Or my clothes,” Rhett teased, stopping your hasty movements. You finally took the chance to pause and look at the man standing before you. Hairy chest on full display. The dark hair traveled down in a continuous line all the way down to the waist of his pants. His soft stomach and love handles made your mouth water.

“You’re so- fuck, Rhett. You’re so sexy,” you said.

“My turn.” He untied the neck of your dress slowly, taking his time pulling the bow loose. He turned you so your back was to him, unzipping you unhurriedly. You let the dress fall to your feet as you turned to face him again, leaving you in your lingerie and high heels.

“My god. Look at you.” Rhett took in the sight of you. Black lace left little to the imagination.

Things moved in a blur after that. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to remove the heels and he almost ripped your bra as he unclasped it with one hand. He tossed it aside and you tried not to giggle as it landed on the lampshade of the lamp that sat on the bedside table.

The edge of the bed knocked against the back of your knees as he pushed you softly so you landed on your back, bouncing on the mattress slightly. He stood between your spread thighs, undoing the button of his slack and pushing them down, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath.

You let out a quiet whine as your eyes traveled down his torso and stopping at the large bulge that was confined by the cotton. Even in the low lighting, you could see a small wet spot from the precum.

Large hands massaged your inner thighs as he spread them apart even farther, causing a slight burn in your muscles. He groaned at the sight of your barely clothed cunt. Rhett fell to his knees swiftly and delved into you without warning. Expert licks moved against your wetness through the thin lace, which had been quickly ripped away. His nose bumped against your bundle of nerves as his tongue explored your folds.

His long fingers soon joined his ministrations, finding that spongy spot inside of you in a matter of seconds. You’d question how he did that later. As of now, you tried to control your shaking limbs as he pushed you higher and higher towards your peak. Scratchy stubble rubbed against you, causing a delicious burn.

He stuck true to his word and devoured you, not leaving one part of you undiscovered.

Rhett’s lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking softly, tongue flicking against the bud. You trembled beneath him and your back bowed off the mattress, bucking against his mouth. A strong arm slung itself over your middle, keeping you pinned to the bed.

Your hands gripped his locks tightly, tugging hard when his tongue sped up.

“Rhett. Oh, Rhett. Fuck. Daddy!” It didn’t take much for your moans to become near screams and for galaxies to explode behind your eyelids as you came against Rhett’s face. Your body was jerking involuntarily as you traveled down from your high. Rhett placed feather light kisses against you before pulling away, hair sticking up in places and his face covered in your release.

He traveled up your body and kissed you soundly, the tangy taste of your desire mixing with something so Rhett made you both moan into each other’s mouths.

“Lay back, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you,” Rhett said quietly. You made yourself comfortable against the soft pillows as Rhett stretched you in preparation for his cock. “Damn pillow princess,” he joked. It made you smile.

He had three thick fingers inside of you before you stopped him.

“Stop! Please! I- I wanna come with you inside me,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist. He nodded and pulled his fingers out fleetingly.

You blindly shoved at his boxers and he clumsily kicked them off the end of the bed, his hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. Fuck, he was big.

Rhett pulled back and sat on his knees, gripping the base of his dick and placing it on your stomach.

“Look, baby. You think you can take me? Think you can handle daddy’s cock?”

“Please! Please, fuck me. Need it. Need you. Please!” You begged, lifting your hips and causing the leaking head to brush against your already sensitive clit. You simultaneously let out a loud moan. He rubbed himself through your folds, teasing you and him both.

“Wait, hold on.” Rhett pulled away and searched for his trousers, pulling his wallet out and rummaging through it. He pulled out a foil wrapper and ripped it with his teeth. You had never seen anything sexier.

“Can I do it?” You asked shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He handed the condom to you and kept eye contact as you rolled the latex down his length carefully. He was heavy in your hand.

You laid back once more, a trembling breath escaping your mouth as he lined up with your entrance. Even with his prepping, it was still a stretch. The slight burn caused you to hiss and dig your nails into his biceps. He took a break between each inch, time passing slowly as he made small thrusts. He eventually bottomed out, a broken moan coming from his chest as you squeezed around his length.

You stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily as his forearms caged you in.

“Daddy. Move. Please,” you whined, fingers moving tangle in the curls at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you, the girth and length of him touching places you’d never been able to reach before. It started slow, he was allowing you to get accustomed to him.

However, it didn’t take long before his thrusts became a little rougher. His hands now were placed a the top of your head as he put his body weight into his movements, grunts escaping him with each pass, your high pitched breaths matching him.

“So tight. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for it. Made for me. All mine, all mine,” Rhett rambled. The headboard started to smack against the wall slightly as he pounded into you. You couldn’t breathe. You were approaching a feeling you had never felt before. Your brain was becoming fuzzy and your ears were beginning to ring.

“Da-daddy. M’gonna- I’m almost there,” you squealed as a particularly harsh thrust hit your g-spot.

“C’mon, sweet baby. Come for daddy,” his deft fingers started rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles and you let out a scream as your release washed over you. Rhett continued fucking into you until he pushed deep inside you and threw his head back towards the ceiling, filling the condom with his own release.

He collapsed on top of you, full body weight covering you like a blanket. You felt like were floating. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed against Rhett’s back, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. You stayed silent for a while, both trying to catch your breaths as you came down. He eventually pulled out of you slowly, causing you to wince. He discarded the condom and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and a glass of water.

You were quiet as he took care of you, smiling softly as he pulled you to sit up and take a few sips of water. You had never been cared for like this after sex. It made your chest constrict. You moved under the covers and waited for Rhett to follow suit. He immediately pressed his warm body against your own, pulling you tight to his chest.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said with a slight giggle.

“I can’t believe it took us this long,” Rhett retorted, fingers dancing along your spine.

You both laughed a little before it fell silent once again.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“What does this make us?” You asked as you ran your fingers through the thick chest hair.

“Well… I think this means you’ll be sleeping in my bed when we get home. But don’t call HR on me.”

“You are HR, Rhett. Seriously, though. Are we like-“

“I want you to be my girl. I have spent the past several months falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon, but damn it, darlin’. You’ve stolen my heart,” Rhett confessed, his words causing your eyes to well with tears.

“Rhett… I- I love you, too.”

“The girls are going to be excited. They’ve been begging me to ask you to be my girlfriend since you moved in.”

“They’re trouble, I swear,” you laughed, snuggling closer to your man.

“They’re the reason I have all of this gray hair.”

“Yeah, but it’s hot. Very… very… very hot,” you responded, emphasizing the T. You giggled as he rolled over on top of you and started kissing against your neck playfully.

You kissed each other softly in the dark until you fell asleep holding each other tight. And when the sun rose in the morning, a new beginning would be awaiting you.

tagging those who may be interested:

@ryebecca @whisperofsong @floydsmuse @laracrofted @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @bobfloydsbabe @callsign-magnolia @attapullman

[sugarcoated-lame]

Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors DNI!

Synopsis: When a guy won't leave you alone, you ask the pretty cowboy at the bar to pretend to be your boyfriend.

WC: 2900

Warnings: not much? this is mostly just fluff :) fake dating, mentions of harassment/guys being creepy, mentions of alcohol and drinking, flirting? like one mention of sex, i feel like that gif of rhett should be a warning

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally decided to write it (: kinda feel like it's a bit shit but please enjoy, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ♥

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“Hey, honey!” Rhett hears a sweet voice call out through the dimly lit, noisy bar. He senses a figure approaching to the left of the barstool he’s sat on, hand freezing halfway to his mouth as he goes to take a sip from his bottle of beer.

It takes him a moment to realize that you’re speaking to him, his confused expression meeting your hopeful, smiling one. He checks behind him for somebody else, but nope, there’s no one there — you’re definitely talking to him.

“Uh…hi? Do I- do we… know each other?” Rhett places his beer down on the bar, wincing as he asks the question; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten a woman that he’d met in this very bar and drunkenly hooked up with. And that situation never usually ends well for him.

You’re very pretty — beautiful, actually — and Rhett decides right then that he definitely doesn’t know you. There’s no way he’d ever be able to forget a face like that.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as you step a little closer to him, and though you’re still smiling, within the newfound proximity Rhett can now see a frazzled, almost pleading look in your bright eyes as you go to speak again.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask, your voice lowered to a level that only he can hear.

“Uh…” Rhett’s confusion is written all over his face, from his brows that furrow adorably to his gaping mouth.

Your own expression turns sheepish as you realize how silly the question sounds, and you’re quick to intercept and elaborate for him.

“There’s a guy over there,” you turn away from Rhett slightly and nod your head subtly to your left and catch a glimpse of the drunken stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone. “He’s been trying to hit on me for the last thirty minutes. Can’t seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.”

Rhett follows your gaze and sees a man sipping a beer and staring at the two of you from the other side of the bar.

“So… I told him that I was waiting for my boyfriend.”

When he meets your eyes again, he can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, but Rhett can sense that little hint of fear in your eyes and the worry in voice. And, though he doesn’t know you, he feels his protective instincts kick in.

You can see the change in his demeanor almost immediately, shoulders squared as he sends the other man across the room an intimidating glare that you don’t think you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.

But, when Rhett’s gaze returns to you, his blue eyes soften and his lips turn up just a bit. He gestures to the empty stool next to his and you take the seat with a sigh of relief and a grateful smile.

“If I’m gonna be your boyfriend, then I guess you should know my name. I’m Rhett.”

Your own shoulders deflate in relief that this kind stranger — Rhett — has agreed to help you, a genuine smile now forming on your lips as you introduce yourself as well.

You’re not entirely sure what made you choose him, but for some reason you found yourself drawn to the pretty cowboy sitting alone at the bar and drinking a beer. And, you’re glad you did.

He’s even prettier up close — little curls peeking out beneath his Stetson hat, adorable button nose, and his eyes captivating pools of blue, intense in their gaze that’s now focused on you. His voice deep and rich, and oh-so soothing.

“You new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” He’d definitely remember if he had.

You nod your head in confirmation. “Very new, I just moved here two days ago for work.”

“Well, welcome to Wabang. I promise not all us guys here are creeps like that asshole.” Rhett promises, once again glancing toward the man who had been harassing you earlier.

That draws a light chuckle out of you, but before you can respond, Rhett narrows his eyes and goes to speak again.

“Speaking of which, he’s still staring over here. I’m gonna put my arm around you… if you’re okay with that.”

Your head nods in agreement without really thinking much about it. Admittedly, you find yourself a little bit lost in the quiet, gravely tone of Rhett’s voice, that deep southern accent, and you’re fairly certain he could get you to agree to anything if he keeps talking to you like that.

Before you can register what’s happening, you’re enveloped by warmth and a pleasant musk that’s a spicy mix of vanilla and tobacco as Rhett leans in and drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.

“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” Rhett emphasizes the last word sarcastically; if he’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend, he’s going to have fun with it.

You take a second too long to answer, too busy trying to inhale Rhett’s scent again as discreetly as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice — he definitely notices.

When you look back up into his eyes, there’s a playful mirth to them, and a smirk overtaking his lips at how flustered you are by the close proximity and the use of the pet name.

“Y-yeah…yes.” You shake your head as though to clear it. “I’ll have a beer.”

As you inwardly cringe at yourself for stumbling through your answer, Rhett simply smirks and raises his hand to flag down the bartender and order your drink, all the while keeping you close to his side underneath his arm.

Only when the bartender places the bottle down in front of you does Rhett remove his arm from around your shoulders, and you find yourself already missing the warmth of the denim of his jacket on your bare skin.

“So, you moved here for work. What do you do?”

You tell him all about your new job and how excited you are for this fresh start in a new place, and Rhett listens intently, chiming in when necessary, loving how passionate you are about your work and content to just listen to the melodic sound of your voice.

“Alright, enough about me. What do you do, Rhett?” It’s the first time you’ve said his name tonight and Rhett feels his cheeks heat, deciding right then that he loves the way it sounds on your lips and that he needs to hear it more.

“I help out on my family’s ranch,” Rhett tells you. “…But I’m also a bull rider.” A small grin grows on his lips that tells you just how much he loves it.

“A bull rider?!” You’re beaming at him, eyes widened in surprise. “No way, that’s so cool! Way cooler than my job.”

Rhett lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head in an attempt to protest. Bashful and blushing even harder now, he tries to brush it off – unable to take a compliment, but you’re having none of it.

“Come on, it’s very impressive! Maybe I’ll come cheer you on in the stands sometime.”

“Yeah?” The two of you share light-hearted grins and you give Rhett an affirmative nod. Yeah, he would definitely like that.

The two of you sit at the bar and talk for a while longer, Rhett buying you a couple more beers. You discuss anything and everything that comes to mind and share a good few laughs, the alcohol leaving you on just the right side of tipsy, feeling open and content – light.

Rhett only nurses the one beer that he’s been drinking since you approached him earlier in the evening. He finds himself already feeling a bit protective of you, liking the responsibility of keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re having a good time. Besides, he just really enjoys talking to you and doesn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight.

Rhett continues to also keep an eye on the guy who was bothering you earlier – though he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t try to approach you again since you’ve been at Rhett’s side for a while now, his arm once again finding itself wrapped securely around your side.

However, Rhett’s noticed throughout the night that he’s not the only man in the bar he’s caught looking at you – yes, you’re new in town, but he knows they’re also looking – staring really – because of how beautiful you are. And he maybe finds himself feeling a bit jealous.

“Seems you’ve caught the attention of just about every guy in here tonight.” Rhett informs you with a teasing lilt to his voice to make light of the situation, smirking into his beer bottle as he takes the final sip.

“Not that I want it.” You roll your eyes dramatically. A playful smirk then takes over your lips — you’ve got an idea. The corner of Rhett’s lips quirk up a bit too as his brow raises in question.

“Just trust me.” Your face is leaning in closer towards him and before Rhett can process what’s happening, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The fact that you’re tipsy has definitely provided you some liquid courage, that much is for sure when you pull back and shift to whisper into Rhett’s ear.

“Gotta let them know that I’m all yours.” Your tone is playful, sarcastically seductive, the warmth of your breath against the skin of Rhett’s earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and he has to fight to hold back a groan. God, does he wish that statement were true.

You can’t stop the little fit of giggles that escapes you as you pull back, and Rhett can’t help but chuckle along with you. Admiring the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the adorable way that your nose wrinkles too. The skin of his cheek is still burning where your plush lips had kissed him.

Now it’s Rhett who has an idea, you can almost see the light bulb flicker behind his crystal blue eyes when they peer into yours again.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asks and your brows furrow adorably, curious as to where he’s going with this. You let him know that you were just going to call an Uber.

“I can drive you home… if you’d like.” Rhett’s nowhere near drunk from the one beer he’s had all evening.

“And there is a way you could show everyone you’re mine.” He proposes, that playful smirk returning to his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at Rhett, but you can’t help but grin along with him, still wondering what he could possibly be suggesting.

Rhett goes to remove the cowboy hat from his head, repeating your own words from only a few moments ago. “Just trust me.”

He moves to place the hat atop your head, a silly grin still on his face as he adjusts it over your hair. You meet his look with a puzzled smile of your own, unsure of what he meant, but something within you tells you that you can – trust him, that is.  

Rhett flags down the bartender and closes his tab before lightly knocking his fists on the wooden bar top.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Rhett chuckles like he knows something you don’t, and you can only roll your eyes in jest as you wait to be let in on the joke.

Rhett watches as you shrug on your jacket, stealing a long glance at you wearing his Stetson – feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest and enjoying the way it looks on your head – before he gently ushers you toward the exit of the bar.

Near the door, he sends a self-assured smirk to the asshole who had been bothering you earlier in the evening, who just watches along from a nearby booth with his buddies, a sour look on his face as you walk out into the night with Rhett’s arm draped over your shoulder.

Only when you’re secured into the passenger side of his truck does Rhett divulge the nature of his plan.

“So, uh — the hat,” Rhett nods towards his hat that you’re wearing and your fingers reach up to touch the worn fabric. “If you wear someone’s cowboy hat, you’re supposed to uh…ride the cowboy…”

He trails off, admittedly a bit nervous now – he doesn’t want to come off as a creep – as he explains the ‘cowboy hat rule’ as he called it, to you. His way of making the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seem a bit more real to any prying eyes, showing everyone in the bar that you’re ‘his’.

You stare at him in bewilderment for a long moment, mouth agape. Your expression sends Rhett into a boisterous fit of laughter, unable to refrain, and earns him a playful smack on the arm.

You close your eyes and cover your face with your palms. “Oh my god…”

“Oh, come on. It’s kinda funny.” Rhett contends through his laughter and you send him what you hope to be a scornful pout. But there’s no real malice behind it, a smile fighting to break through as you find it hard to be annoyed with him.

“And it’s not like I’m gonna hold you to it.” He promises with a wink that might make you swoon if you weren’t already sitting down.

Before you know it, you’re joining in on the laughs, unable to hold back any longer and relishing in the humor or the situation.

Once you’ve rattled off your address to Rhett, the ride to your home is filled with quiet music pouring from the truck’s radio – though it merely serves as background noise as you and Rhett spend the entire 20-minute drive talking. Sharing little details about yourselves and making plenty more jokes. His Stetson still sitting pretty atop your head.

Despite having spent hours talking with him in the bar, you still find yourself wanting to know more about him, not wanting the conversation – or this night –  to end.

The truck reaches your little house all too soon, and Rhett finds himself not wanting the night to end either. Pretending to be your boyfriend was the highlight of his evening and he wants nothing more than to see you again.

When he stops the truck at the end of the little path leading to your front door, Rhett clears his throat before moving to speak.

“So, I — uh, I was wondering, c-could I… maybe get your phone number?” Rhett asks quietly, a pink flush taking over his pale cheeks as he internally curses himself for sounding so nervous.

You don’t mind it, though — this seemingly tough cowboy growing all flustered and stumbling over his words for you? You couldn’t find it more endearing.  

Rhett holds his breath as your pretty eyes — slightly glassy still from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the evening, look straight into his blue ones, and you grace him with a coy smile.

“Of course. Who else am I going to call when guys are harassing me and I need a fake boyfriend?”

Rhett releases the breath he was holding and bites back a smile, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Great.”

Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you gingerly remove Rhett’s hat from your head, smoothing down your hair.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scoot closer toward him in the bench seat, reaching up to carefully place it back on top of his head  — your eyes gazing into Rhett’s blue ones as they peer back into yours, the two of you sharing bashful smiles.

With the cowboy hat secured on the head of its rightful owner, you move to pull away. However, you pause before you get too far, deciding to lean in and place one last kiss to Rhett’s cheek before climbing out of his truck.

Rhett’s in such a daze – cheeks flushing that bright pink once again as warmth radiates from where your lips had kissed him, and a dopey grin on his lips – that he almost doesn’t notice as you walk around to the driver’s side of his truck, leaning a bit into the open window. Your face close to his, lit up all pretty in the moonlight.

“Thank you for turning my shitty night around, Rhett.” You bite back a grin. “I had a lot of fun.”

Before Rhett can respond – still flustered from the kiss to his cheek and now from hearing you say his name again, you back away from his window, making your way towards the path. Walking backwards, still facing the truck and grinning at him all the while.

“Oh, and you’re a really great fake boyfriend!” You call out.

Breaking off into a giggle that carries in the night’s slight breeze and Rhett can only chuckle back, shaking his head as he watches you with a fond smile.  

With that, you turn around and walk off to your house with a spring in your step. Rhett stays sat there in his truck until he sees you make it through your front door safely, and he’s absolutely beaming.

Rhett's going to call you first thing tomorrow. He hopes that he can turn this ‘fake’ boyfriend situation into something real.

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Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91  @memoriesat30  @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 ♥

also tagging a few people that I think may enjoy/liked my last rhett fic ♥ : @roleycoleyreccenter @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @mothdruid @lewmagoo @foreverrandomwritings @pillow-titties @sobshoney

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[lewmagoo]

diamond cowboy | rhett abbott

description: in which a good ride comes with an even greater reward

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, semi public sex, unprotected piv sex, light choking, begging, overstimulation, creampie, dom/sub undertones

There was nothing like watching your man standing in the middle of the ring, breathless and sweaty, pride glowing on his face as thunderous cheering erupted around him. 

He wasn’t one that craved attention on a regular basis. He preferred a quiet “good job” over dramatic praise. But after a good ride, that kind of over-the-top praise made his heart soar. He was on top of the world, king of the rodeo. The best fuckin’ bull rider there was. 

But there was only one person in the crowd whose approval he searched for. Wild blue eyes flickered to the stands, scanning, hoping, and finally, he saw you. Jumping up and down in the stands, shouting his name, cheering for him. 

His chest flooded with warmth. His face broke into a smile. He thumped his fist against his chest, right over his heart, and you placed your own hand over yours. You were so proud of him. He could see it written all over your face. 

And that alone made it all worth it. The broken bones. The dislocated shoulders. The concussions. The blood, sweat, and tears that had gotten him to this point. As long as you were there, his biggest cheerleader, all was right with the world. 

As he looked into your eyes, the deafening noise of the crowd seemed to fade into the background. “I love you,” you mouthed. 

He grinned. “I know,” he mouthed back. 

It was a good ride. His best ride. The ride that would advance his career and change the trajectory of your lives for the better. 

It was amazing, how far he’d come. After he had left his family’s house and started his life with you, things had changed. He’d come into his own. He was no longer living in the shadows of his father and brother. He felt freer than he’d ever felt before. 

It was only natural that he rode better, too. He had more energy to put into his craft, and it showed. He’d quickly climbed to the top of the rodeo circuit and was now entering into a fruitful riding career. 

You were so unbelievably proud of him. Though watching him ride was often stressful, and seeing him sustain countless injuries made your heart ache, you wanted him to chase his dream. You’d never dream of trying to hold him back from it. 

And it was worth it to see the joy on his beautiful face. He was glowing from the inside out. A diamond cowboy. 

You knew he’d seek you out after he cleared the arena. You made your way down from the stands as quickly as you could, dodging friends who threw congratulations your way, praising your man’s victory. You shouted thanks over your shoulder, breezing through the crowd until you found yourself back behind the stands. 

You kept moving, scurrying to the area marked riders only. You waited at the gate for a beat, knowing Rhett would emerge soon, and you wanted to be the first person he saw when he did. 

You were vibrating with excited energy, bouncing on the balls of your feet, eager to catch a glimpse of him coming toward you. And then, finally, he emerged. Had in hand, as it had flown off during his ride, and he hadn’t bothered to put it back on. His hair was tousled, and he wore a big grin on his face. 

As soon as he saw you, that smile went impossibly wider. He broke into a jog, reaching out to unlatch the gate, slipping through the opening with ease. 

“We did it, baby!” He exclaimed, and you laughed musically as he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. 

“No, you did it!” Came your breathless response, after he set you back down. Your hands came up to hold his face, and you beamed up at him, your eyes shining. 

He kissed you deeply. “Naw, there’s no me without you. I did it because I knew you were up there watchin’ me, cheerin' me on. We did it.”

You hummed, smiling against his mouth. “Alright then, I won’t argue with you, cowboy.” You let your hands rest against his broad chest, where you could feel his heart thudding like racing hoofbeats upon the ground. 

His large, calloused hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him, his body warm and thrumming with adrenaline still. He kissed you again, his lips searing against yours, hot and needy. 

He was always like this after a good ride. A live wire, sizzling and crackling with white-hot energy. You could see it in the way his eyes shimmered in the yellow light cast by the lights above you. 

And you could feel it when he pressed his hips into you, a telltale hardness in his jeans that had your mouth running dry. The glimmer in his eyes darkened into something else. 

It came as no surprise to you, because it wasn’t the first time it had happened. But it still pulled a surprised squeak from you, especially when he pushed you back against the fence, his weight leaning into you. 

“R-Rhett!” You peeped, “here?!”

But you already knew the answer. 

“Need you now, darlin’. All I could think about after I jumped off that fuckin’ bull was how badly I wanted to sink into this little pussy of yours and celebrate my victory.”

“But what if someone sees?” Your resolve was melting as he pressed hot kisses down your jaw.

“They ain’t gonna see,” he replied, “an’ if they do, then we’ll give ‘em a good show. I need my girl now. Can’t wait ‘til we get home.”

And how could you ever deny him? Especially when his teeth were nipping at your skin, and he’d managed to slide his thigh between your legs, already applying pressure where you needed him most, your panties the only thing separating your skin from touching the denim. You were grateful you’d decided to wear a dress. 

Rhett leaned back, hand catching your arm. “C’mere.” Quickly, he pulled you after him, guiding you further from the gates. You soon found yourself between a set of trailers, shrouded in shadow, but only a few steps away from the main path, where anyone could happen upon you. 

That didn’t matter, though. Not when his day old stubble was prickling at your sensitive skin as he kissed and licked down your neck, tasting you, savoring you. He breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you. The perfume he liked, mixed with your natural scent. It drove him wild. 

You were pressed against the outside of the trailer, it’s cold metal sending a chill through the fabric of your dress. But you’d warm up soon enough. 

Besides, you hardly had time to register the coldness when you felt Rhett against you again, hard cock trapped within the confines of his Wranglers, grinding against your lower abdomen. 

He was so strong, teeming with virile energy, keyed up from the high of his ride. You felt your knees growing weak, knowing he could toss you around like a ragdoll and do whatever he pleased with you. It was a strength that came from holding onto thousand pound bulls, hauling bales of hay, and wrangling stray cattle. 

You slid your hands along his defined arms, the muscle flexing beneath the fabric of his cotton shirt. Blue, like his eyes. You could hardly take the time to marvel at it, because his lips were on yours again, tongue slipping into your mouth. He tasted of the beer he’d downed before his ride. 

Beyond you, you could hear voices, and the knowledge that anyone could walk past and see what you were doing sent a shiver down your spine, and warmth blooming between your thighs. 

But again, you were distracted by the man before you, pawing at you, kissing at your skin, nipping at the flesh. Your head was beginning to feel like it was filled with static, your brain short-circuiting with each hot kiss and drag of his fingers. 

And then, suddenly, he pulled back. “Hold on,” he mumbled, moving to reach into the breast pocket of his shirt. He slipped a small packet of wet wipes out of the pocket, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him quickly wipe his hands. 

“You came prepared, huh?” You teased. 

His eyes twinkled. “Sure did. I was anticipatin’ a win, figured I’d keep wipes on hand for afterward.”

“You’re a sly dog, Mr. Abbott.”

He smirked as he tucked the packet of wipes back into his pocket. “What can I say? Always gotta be ready to touch m’ girl. Ain’t about to get your delicate lil pussy all dirty with my filthy fingers now.” 

You appreciated him for it. He tried hard to consider things like this. Making sure he was looking out for you, even in the little things, was important to him. 

Your mind went blank, however, when he slid his warm hand down the front of your body, pushing past the fabric of your panties until his fingers struck gold. Already slick for him, your cunt accepted his fingers with ease. He circled your sensitive clit for a moment before he traveled lower, prodding at your entrance. 

Two thick fingers slipped inside you. You whimpered, your knees almost buckling. He held you upright, his arm secured around your waist as he curled those digits within you. You kissed him feverishly, whining against his mouth, fire burning within you, licking at your skin, threatening to consume you whole already. 

You couldn’t help but push your hips into his touch, humping his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. He sped up his movements, just so he could hear the sound of your wetness emanate from between your thighs. 

“You dirty lil thang,” he drawled, eyes narrowing, much like a cat’s. “You fuckin’ love this.”

“Uh-huh,” you sighed in agreement as you pressed your lips to his jaw, sucking on the stubbled skin. 

He moved his fingers faster, deeper, thumb coming up to encircle your now swollen clit. It was almost pathetic, how much of an effect he had on you. He’d barely gotten started and you were already losing yourself, your brain turning to mush at his touch. 

He knew exactly how to angle his fingers to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. And then, all at once, he added a third finger into the mix, and your cunt stretched to accommodate it. 

“Oh!” You gasped. 

“Gotta get you ready f’r me, honey,” came his words, breathed hotly into your mouth. 

“I am ready,” you wanted to say, but you were entirely speechless as he moved his fingers hard and fast, enough to jar your entire being. You were so wet, it was beginning to drip down his fingers and coat his palm. 

He kept going, even as he lifted his other hand to unbuckle his belt. You might’ve marveled at the fact that he’d done it one-handed, if you weren’t so distracted by the way he filled you with his fingers. 

Your head lolled back against the cool wall of the trailer, your eyes squeezed shut as you clenched your jaw, body shaking uncontrollably. Faster and faster he went, determined to make you fall apart before he even got his cock in you. 

He shoved the fabric of his jeans aside, his boxers following, just enough to free his achingly hard cock. You could feel it against your hip, and it drew you back to the present as you gasped and reached for it. “Want it in me,” you pleaded, but he shook his head. 

“Not yet. Wan’ you to squirt all over m’ fingers first.”

Whining, you sought out his lips again, and he kissed you languidly as he expertly brought you to that peak. You could feel it building like a storm cloud, threatening to open and bring forth a torrential downpour. 

Your mouths were open against each other. You moaned into his, and he grunted into yours, so desperate to make you come, so eager to bring you pleasure. 

And then, the tension released, and you squealed, legs buckling beneath you as you flooded his hand and your panties with the warmth of your release. Rhett growled, his eyes fluttering as he watched you come apart, trembling as he caught you with his free arm. 

“That’s it, there ya go. Let it all out for me. C’mon, I know you got more in there. Give it to me,” he rasped as he continued to move his fingers. 

You were making such a mess. You could feel it beginning to drip down your legs, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Finally, Rhett gave you some reprieve, sliding his hand away. 

You watched through hazy eyes as he sucked his fingers clean and murmured “fuckin’ delicious.”

He used the wetness on his palm as lubricant as he wrapped his hand firmly around his cock and gave it a few deliberate strokes. You couldn’t help but salivate over the sight. Even in the dim light, you could see how hard and swollen it was, blushing tip shimmering with molten arousal. You wanted it in your mouth. But there’d be time for that later. For now, both of you were desperate for him to be inside you. 

“Turn,” he commanded, strong hands grasping your hips and turning you so that your back was facing him. He placed his palm against your back and gently urged you to lean forward. You placed your hands against the wall of the trailer as he shoved your dress up again and yanked your panties down your legs, just far enough for him to have access. 

Then you felt him, sliding through your puffy folds. Hard and thick and thrumming with need. “You want it?” He gruffed. 

“Yes,” you sighed, nodding eagerly. 

“Really? Cause you don’t sound like you do.”

“Please, Rhett. I want it. I need it.”

He gave your ass a hearty smack, at which you jolted, gasping sharply. “Fuckin’ beg for it.”

He kept sliding the tip past your entrance, teasing you, never granting you what you desired so badly. “Pl-please, sir. I want your cock so bad, it hurts. I need you inside me, I need you to pump me full, please, please, ple—ah!”

Your final plea was cut short as he shunted his hips forward, filling you all at once. Your eyes watered at the stretch. Your toes curled. Your spine tingled. It punched the oxygen right out of your lungs. 

“There ya go. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward again, and you couldn’t contain the yelp that left you. 

Suddenly, his hand was clamped over your mouth. “Better keep quiet. Don’t want everyone t’ know what a slut you are, lettin’ your cowboy fuck you where anyone could see.” And then, “or, maybe you want that, huh?” Another deep thrust. “Want ‘em all to see how dumb y’ get when my cock is inside ya.”

If only they knew. 

In reality, you were well aware that Rhett would never let anyone see you like this. You both got off on the thrill of it, but he’d never purposely put you in a situation where someone would see you like this. It was why you were pushed into the shadows against the trailer, in a secluded part of the rodeo grounds, and his body was shielding yours. No one could see you over the broad frame of his shoulders. 

He’d protect you always, even in moments like this. Especially in moments like this. Your most vulnerable state. Strung out on desire, brain fuzzy with need, your inhibitions gone. This sight was for his eyes, and his eyes only. And you trusted him to watch over you when you were like this. 

And what a state you were in. Mouth open, eyes shut, shivering under his touch as he held your hips tightly and repeatedly drove his cock into your velvety depths. One of his hands came around the front of your body, disappearing to the place where your bodies met. There, his deft fingers began tracing expert figure eights on your clit, and you threw your head back against his shoulder. 

His free arm supported your weight, muscles bulging as he held you tight, making sure you didn’t fall. His grunts were low against the shell of your ear, animalistic in tone. Feral, in a way. 

Under his breath, you could just barely make out the words “take it, take it, take it.”

And you did. Every inch of him. You’d be sore later, you knew you would be. But you didn’t care. Not when he kept hitting it just right, filling you with such ease and precision. His fingers at your little gathering of nerves had your vision sparkling with electricity, fizzling within the darkness of your eyelids. 

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so it came as no surprise to you that your body was already beginning to climb that peak again. This time it came from deeper within, a flame that had once been dormant, now burning intensely, spreading throughout your entire body. 

The hand that was over your mouth lowered to your throat, and he fucked you even harder as he began to squeeze, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. He wasn’t cutting off your airflow. No, he was slowing the blood flow, which left you feeling euphoric and lightheaded, as if you were outside of your body, watching him fuck you. 

At that point, you were speechless. Couldn’t utter a coherent word if you tried. All that came past your parted, kiss-bitten lips were squeaks and moans, whimpers and gasps. There were no words to adequately describe the pleasure you were feeling. 

With each push and pull of his cock inside you, you could feel his heavy balls tap against your slick cunt. The sound was lewd and filthy. This entire encounter was filthy. Your panties pushed halfway down your thighs, his jeans haphazardly bunched below his ass. It was a dirty, hurried fuck, and you both loved it. 

With his fingers on your clit and his hand on your throat, you were plummeting toward your end, and he could tell. “That pussy’s squeezin’ me,” he gritted out, “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“Y-y-ye…s,” was all you could muster, as your eyes rolled back. 

He slowed down only slightly, rolling his hips against yours, cock nestled deep. His fingers pressed more insistently against your swollen bundle, and your legs began to tremble. 

He lowered the hand that was around your throat, instead bringing it down to grope at your bouncing breasts, fingers tugging at each nipple. It only added to the shock of bliss already running through you. 

“C’mon, darlin’. Want y’ to come all over me. Make a fuckin’ mess.”

It was right there, just out of your reach, so close you could almost taste it. Warmth blossoming from your head to your toes, intense and all-consuming. Almost there, almost there, almost there. 

“I said, come,” came the deep, commanding growl in your ear. 

And you did. With a strangled cry, you fell apart again, body going rigid in Rhett’s arms as it washed over you. He held you close, grunting as your cunt pulsed around him. The feeling nearly sent him over the edge, but he refused to succumb to it just yet. He was determined to pull one more orgasm out of you before he came. 

He gave you a moment of reprieve, letting you come down slowly from the glorious intensity, your body jolting with the aftershocks. You pressed your hot cheek against the cold exterior of the trailer, in an effort to cool down. You felt as if you’d burst into flames. 

As the haze cleared from your mind, you became aware that Rhett had slowed down, cock nestled deep inside you, in an effort to stave off his end. The evidence of your orgasm had dripped down his shaft, toward his full balls, and it was driving him wild. The fact that he had this affect on you, that he could make you come repeatedly, did wonders for his ego. 

You looked back in fondness at the time you’d first gotten together, and took time to explore one another. Rhett had a reputation. People thought of him as a man whoring cowboy. But in reality, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

He’d only been with one other person before you. She was his first everything. First girlfriend, first kiss, first introduction to sex. She was all he’d ever known. He had no idea how wonderfully fulfilling that sex could be, because she, being a little older and more experienced than him, had never taught him. 

It wasn’t until he began a relationship with you that he learned how sweet that connection was. How pleasurable it could be. He was free to explore his fantasies, and learn how vitally important aftercare was. 

Aftercare. Something he hadn’t experienced before. You had shown him how you needed to be cared for after sex, and in turn, you had administered care to him, as well. Your dynamic would switch, at times. Sometimes he was the dominant one. Sometimes you were. But no matter who bore what title, aftercare was non-negotiable for both parties. 

You found that Rhett especially needed gentle reassurance after a particularly intense scene. He doubted himself sometimes, as a dominant. What if he was being too rough with you? What if he hurt you? 

But you were always there to assure him that you trusted him implicitly, that you knew he’d never push you too far. 

It had taken a while to build his confidence, but he’d come a long way since then, and now, the two of you had a healthy dynamic. It was why you both felt comfortable sneaking around like this in public. 

“Y’ still with me, chickadee?” His breathless voice brought you back to the present. 

“Y-yeah,” you managed. 

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Think ya can give me another one?” 

You let out an unsteady sigh, leaning your head back against him. “I think so.”

Another kiss to your shoulder, his stubble nipping at your skin. “Okay, just need y’to hold on a little longer. ‘m almost there.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt him begin to move again. Slowly at first, building his rhythm. 

You were so sensitive, and impossibly wet, so much so that as he moved, the obscene squelch of your slick could be heard. 

His fingers found their way to your throbbing clit again, and you jolted, entirely too sensitive. “Oh!”

His forearm wrapped around your middle, and he held you in place as he began to quicken his pace. Deep, hurried, sharp thrusts that stole the breath from you. You clawed at the side of the trailer, trying and failing to find purchase, in an attempt to hold on. 

Rhett was so big and broad against you, his weight grounding you. In the moment, he was using you for his pleasure, even as his fingers continued to rub at you. He grunted and growled in your ear, rutting deep within you. 

“Gon’ come,” he grunted, as your head lolled back against him and your mouth fell open. “Gon’ fill your cute lil pussy up, make you walk around with me runnin’ down your legs.”

“Pl-please!” You squeaked. You wanted it so badly. Walking around with his cum seeping out of you made you feel claimed. Like you belonged to him. 

“Yeah?” He was growing breathless, fucked out, “that what you want? For me t’ stuff you full of me?”

But you could barely answer because he was hitting your spot just right, and you knew you were going to fall apart again. All you could do was tremble pathetically in his arms. 

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, and you closed your lips around then, mouthing at the digits, using them to muffle your too-loud cries. Rhett’s moans in your ear made your head spin. Low at first, but growing in pitch until they were almost whimpers. 

His mouth was open against your ear, breath hot and heavy. But you were distracted by the swell of his cock within you. Before you even realized what was happening, your third and final orgasm washed over you. It felt like your veins were filled with fizzy champagne. Deliciously warm, almost comforting, as it surged through you. 

You whined deep within your chest, going limp in his arms as you reveled in ecstasy. A sleepy smile graced your features as you heard him gasp sharply, and seconds later, you could feel it. Warmth blossoming within you, seeping out around the edges, painting everything milky white. 

“Tha-thank yo…uuuu,” you babbled, eyes rolling back as he gave you everything he had to give. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he sighed, as you went limp in his arms. His own thighs were quaking, muscles fatigued from his ride, and from fucking you, but he remained steady as he caught your exhausted form. 

Slowly, he eased his softening cock out of you, and you hissed softly at the feeling, knowing you were going to be sore later. But he was there to soothe you, loving fingers cupping your soaked pussy, applying gentle pressure. 

“Here,” he hummed, pulling back to turn you gently. He hitched your leg over his hip as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of wipes he’d used earlier. He was careful to wipe you clean as best as he could, in the dark lighting, and the awkward angle. 

“I’ll finish cleanin’ you up at home, alright baby?” He promised. Sleepily, you nodded. With a soft smile, he kissed your nose. “Did so good f’r me.”

You giggled, almost loopy. “Love you,” you slurred. 

He reached up to lovingly stroke your cheek. “Love you too, sweet thing.”

He helped get you looking presentable again, pulling your dress back to where it belonged, wiping the tears you hadn’t even realized you’d shed from your cheeks. “C’mon, let’s get home.”

He quickly pulled his jeans back up and buckled his belt before he bent and grabbed his hat, which you hadn’t even realized had fallen to the dusty earth. Then, a brawny arm was secured around your waist as he guided you out of the shadows. He checked to make sure the coast was clear, and after he was certain it was safe, the two of you made your way across the lot, to the place where his truck was parked. 

Your legs were unsteady the entire way, so he had to hold you upright. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourselves. You felt like a couple of teenagers, sneaking around. In a way, it was exhilarating. 

“You’re walkin’ like a baby deer,” Rhett teased as he led you to the passenger side of his truck. 

“That’s your fault, sir,” you teased right back, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Acting like a sex-starved maniac.”

He grinned before he tipped his hat up and leaned down to kiss you. “Can’t help it. Get so pent up after a good ride. S’the worst when I’m outta town and you ain’t with me. Feel like I’m gon’ combust.”

“Good thing I was with you tonight then, huh?” You said with a good-natured smile. 

He tapped your nose playfully. “Get in the truck, chickadee.”

With a mock salute, you climbed inside, and once you were settled, he shut the door behind you and came around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. 

You snuggled against his side the entire ride home, feeling rather sleepy after the events of the night. In fact, you managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the drive, waking only when he came to a stop in your driveway. 

“C’mon now, sleepy girl. Let’s getcha inside so I can clean you up proper.”

He coaxed you out of the truck, and you held his hand as he led you up the porch steps and into the house. You let him take the reins, because you were much too drowsy to be of much help. He took you upstairs, and there, you climbed into the shower together. 

The water made you somewhat more alert, and as he began to rinse you down, you stayed his hands. “Wanna take care of you too,” you said. 

So, you took the time to tenderly scrub him down as well, wanting to show him love. You spent a long while tending to each other, relishing in the closeness, the intimacy. Both of you enjoyed aftercare immensely, even more than the sex act itself at times. It was a way to show reverence and appreciation to the other. 

“You’re so good t’ me, baby,” Rhett lulled, and you hummed at his praise, kissing at his chest. 

“You deserve it,” came your reply. 

He hugged you close before he finally shut off the water. He leaned out of the shower to open the towel warmer you kept nearby. A device that he’d scoffed at in the beginning, claiming it was a ridiculous and frivolous waste of money. But he had to admit, he loved the thing. There was nothing better than getting out of the shower and wrapping up in a nice, warm towel. 

He wrapped you in yours before he grabbed his own. Together, you set about completing your evening routine. Rhett helped massage lotion into your skin, and you did the same to him. 

A little while later, all cozy in clean pajamas, you found yourselves sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor, close enough that your knees were touching. A pint of chocolate ice cream sat between you both. 

“How does it feel to be king of the rodeo?” You asked with a smile. 

He shook his head. “You’re speakin’ too highly of me.”

“It’s true. You’re making a name for yourself, Rhett. Nobody even refers to you as ‘Royal Abbott’s son’ anymore. They see you. Rhett Abbott, Pro Bull Rider.”

Rhett’s eyes glimmered as he sucked a scoop of ice cream from his spoon. “It feels damn good. But like I said earlier, there’s no me without you. I’m where I am because you pushed me to be better. You showed me life was worth livin’. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

You tried to protest, but he shook his head. “You’re my saving grace, darlin’. Always have been, always will be.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. Leaning forward, you stole a sweet kiss, too verklempt to utter a verbal reply. You loved that he could go from rough and tumble to tender and loving just like that. As if he hadn’t just taken you within an inch of your life at the very public rodeo grounds. 

He was back to being your soft, gentle cowboy whose heart was often too big to fit in his own chest. But what he couldn’t fit within his rib cage, you held delicately in your hands, promising never to break it. 

“I love you,” you spoke for what felt like the hundredth time that night. But you’d say it a hundred more without thinking twice about it. 

“I love you more, chickadee.”

“I love you most.”

-

taglist:

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @peachystenbrough @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @nobody7102 @milesmillergf @idontcare-11 @yanna-banana @floydsglasses @whisperofsong @floydsmuse @happyrebelruins @seitmai-too @just-in-case-iloveyou

[theharddeck]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your table in surprise. It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. It was that it was that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm three hours ago.

in which Reader realizes the quiet aviator is actually her fave audio porn creator -- coming soon!

[tropes-and-tales]

Mending Fences

Day 15:  Virginity (Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Childhood friends; yee-haw angst; idiots in love; pining; smut (PiV, protected and unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count: 6954

AN:  This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by an anonymous type!

AN2: Believe me when I say this is not beta read and has not been edited at all. Shitty first drafts, all. Shitty first drafts foisted into publication.

Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.

Wabang remains largely the same.  Maria leaves town and Rhett despairs to have missed his chance.  He throws himself into the ranch, into rodeo.  He drinks.  He scraps with the Tillersons. 

Perry and Rebecca make him an uncle, which delights him.  Royal makes his disappointment in his younger son no secret, which hurts Rhett deeper than he’ll admit to anyone.

Three years.  Cecilia mentions you from time to time.  When she runs into your uncle in town, she gets the news, which she conveys over the dinner table to the rest of the Abbotts.  By the time it trickles down to Rhett, it’s just facts:  how you like college, how you’re getting good grades.

Rhett doesn’t think his mother knows about your falling out.  He thinks your uncle can guess at it:  when Rhett sees the man in town, he’s met with a stony stare, curt words.

He hates the way he left it with you.  Every time he thinks about it, his stomach twists and cramps at the wash of shame that courses through him.  There are many times during those three years apart that he thinks of you, that he has the idle thought to reach out.  He has your number, your email.  He could reach out.  He could apologize.

He always thinks of you when he’s working on the lower field of the Abbott Ranch.  It butts against your family’s ranch, a quarter mile of shared fencing, and part of the reason why his mother and yours had been such good friends—and why you and Rhett had been childhood friends too.  There’s a section of fencing with a gap perfectly sized for a child’s body, and both you and Rhett had squeezed through it plenty of times as you went to each other’s houses.

He doesn’t know why your friendship faded.  You used to be inseparable as children, the best of friends.  You used to play in the Abbott barn with Rhett until Royal shooed you both away.  Rhett used to sleep beside you in a tent in your backyard, your mother within earshot and ready to usher you inside if either of you lost your nerve after a night of telling each other ghost stories. 

And when your parents died, Rhett did everything he could to help, in his own childish way:  he clowned around to try and coax a smile from you, he offered awkward hugs when you cried.  Once, he even baked you cookies (with Cecilia’s help).

The drifting apart came in middle school, he guesses.  That’s when the boys and girls started to separate.  That’s when Perry made sly jokes about you, called you Rhett’s little girlfriend, and Rhett bristled at the taunt while you looked hurt at Rhett’s bristling.  You spent less time together:  Rhett fell in with the other boys who drove their trucks outside of town for bonfire parties on the range and dreamed of rodeo and buckle bunnies while you turned inward, studied harder, started dreaming of life outside of Wabang.

When he works on the Abbott ranch’s lower field, he sees the gap in the fencing and marvels that he was ever small enough to squeeze through it…and yet it gives him a pang to see it, to remember those golden years of his childhood he spent with you. 

He could reach out.  He could apologize.  He could, after an opening salvo, express his own confusion and frustration about why you had asked him to take your virginity in the first place.  He guesses that you trust him—or trusted him—but he can’t pretend it didn’t unnerve him all the same.

He could reach out, but he doesn’t. 

Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.

-----

It comes with no warning, the next time he sees you.  There’s been no chatter about you returning to Wabang for the summer.  You’ve spent other summers at college, working internships and taking classes, so Rhett didn’t expect to see you this summer. 

Rhett sees you in the town proper, just like that, like it’s just another day.  Which it is, except there you are:  standing outside of a restaurant, balancing a flat box of pizza in one hand while a six-pack of beer dangles from the other hand.  You’ve been cornered by one of the older Wabang residents, the mother of one of your high school classmates, and judging by the expression on your face, Rhett guesses you’re calculating how to extricate yourself from the situation.

He's idling in his truck and only has a moment to study you.  You look exactly the same—same face, same hair—yet you seem completely different.  It takes Rhett a long moment to realize why; he doesn’t piece it together until he’s pulled away and is driving towards the ranch.

You seem different because you seem taller—because you’re standing straight.  Perfect posture, shoulders back.  Rhett’s never seen you stand like that before:  as a teenager, you had a way of walking bent over a little, your shoulders rounded over and in like you were trying to pull in on yourself.

-----

He catches glimpses of you here and there.  He hears people mention you—college girl back from the great wider world—and Rhett can’t quite account for the feelings your name or face stir up in him.  Sometimes it makes him duck his head, slink around guilty, like others could read those terrible words his said to you the last time he saw you. 

Pity-fucking the town orphan, he had said.  The words are seared into his memory, as permanent as any tattoo.

Other times, though, the mention of your name or a glimpse of you fills him with a lightness, an airy feeling he remembers from your childhood together.  Like all he has to do is slip through that gap in the fencing to go find you, to take your hand in his for some adventure.

-----

It’s funny how some of the stringent cliques of high school soften once everyone graduates.  Rhett still hangs out with his friends from then, since none of them have left Wabang, but interlopers come and go and are no worse for wear for it. 

The bonfires still occur out on the range but there’s less stridency about who does and doesn’t belong, who was and wasn’t invited.

You never went to a bonfire in high school.  You weren’t exactly friendless back then, but you hung with similarly quiet and studious girls.  Girls who spent their Friday nights sleeping over at each other’s houses, watching movies and dreaming about lives far from Wabang.  But one early summer night, you turn up at the bonfire, in tow with Billy Tillerson and his girlfriend and a handful of other friends.

That riot of feelings.  Guilt and hope in equal measure.  The beer Rhett has already drank doesn’t help.  He’s just tipsy enough, his thoughts just fuzzy and sluggish enough that when you turn up in the circle of firelight, he openly gapes at you, and it draws your attention.

Three years after that terrible fucking night at the hotel, Rhett Abbott is finally looking you square in the eye.

Pity-fucking the town orphan, his memory hisses at him, and a sick wave of shame washes through him.

But if you’re remembering the terrible thing he said, Rhett can’t tell.  You stare at him in the flickering firelight, but then you tip your head at him, a scant nod, and the corners of your lips curve into a semblance of a smile.

It’s been three years, so it’s better than nothing.

-----

He sees you again in the next few weeks, here and there.  At the bar, around town.  Each time, you exchange nods of recognition but little else.

Cecilia gets wind of you being back for the summer, and she spends a Saturday morning baking up a double batch of your favorite cookies—pumpkin chocolate chip.  She underbakes them a shade so they stay soft in the middle, just as you and Rhett always liked them best when you were kids, and then she thrusts the foil-covered platter into her younger son’s hands with the directive to deliver them to you.

Maybe Rhett never gave his mother enough credit.  Cecilia seems to know about the rift between you after all.

“Life’s too short to stay mad,” she tells him before she sends him on his way. 

“Who says anyone’s mad?”

She rolls her eyes, a universal expression that all mothers seem to have that says I’m your mother, you’re not pulling a fast one on me.

“Her mom and I were best friends, but we had our spats.  We never let it turn into a cold war, though.  Talk it out, yell if you have to, but work through it.”  She pats his shoulder, and her eyes have a film of tears as she remembers her best friend, your mother, dead now for these long years.  “Life’s too short.”

-----

Something about his mother’s words make Rhett take the old path to your house—through the lower field, to the gap in the shared fencing, though he has to climb over the fence now that he’s too big to squeeze through the narrow space between the posts.

Each step towards your farmhouse brings back a million memories.  There’s the overgrown bank of Rocky Mountain iris.  Rhett remembers how you cut a bouquet of them (uneven, stems weeping sap) for when his childhood dog died and was buried behind the Abbott barn.  There’s a wide fire pit where your father used to patiently supervise as the two of you caught marshmallows on fire for s'mores.  There’s the flat patch of prairie where your parents pitched a small pup-tent that you and Rhett used to sleep in during warm summer nights.

It baffles him that he used to sleep right beside you, tucked in his Power Rangers sleeping bag while you slept in your Sailor Moon one beside him.  It baffles him how childhood can be so completely innocent, and how it can slip away in an instant.

The house looks the same from the outside, and when Rhett knocks at the back door, he finds that he’s…not excited, exactly.  But not dreading it.  You were his best friend, and his mother is right.  Life is too short.

Your uncle is the one who answers the door, and the cool expression on his face pulls Rhett up short.  But he says nothing other than “c’mon in, then,” and once Rhett steps into the house, your uncle hollers for you somewhere deeper in the home.  Tells you that you have a visitor and that he’s heading into town for supplies.

Then Rhett hears the familiar cadence of you running down the stairs, and it tugs at something in his chest—you ran down those stairs the same way as a child, hitting the top three carefully, then rushing down the rest.  You must meet your uncle near the front door because he hears the two of you murmuring, but he can’t make out the words.  Then the door slamming, the roar of your uncle’s truck’s engine, and then you’re standing in front of him, the same semblance of a smile from the bonfire.

*****

The two of you sit outside near the fire pit, the platter of cookies between you.  You have no idea what bit Rhett’s ass, but after the barest bit of small talk (“How’s it going?” and “How’s college?”), he immediately launches into the big shit.

“I hate how we left it,” he starts.  “That night.  You know.”

You bite back a snort, and you pluck another cookie from the platter, break it in half, pop it in your mouth.  You chew slowly, give yourself time for that old wash of shame to course through you, then ebb away.  It still makes your face burn hot, three years later.  Every time the memory surfaces, you shove it down, but not before you remember the mortification of getting cold feet, of standing in front of him half naked while he called you the town orphan.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“I should have never said it.”

You shrug.  “S’fine.”

“It’s not.”  He sighs, takes his ball cap off and swipes his hand through his hair.  “I’m sorry.  I shoulda said it sooner.  Should have apologized that same night.”

You glance over at him.  You take in his profile:  his jaw twitches at how tight he must be clenching it, and his blue eyes are fixed out in the field, the stretch of land between your ranch and his.  He’s so damned handsome, but you often forget the fact because you still think of him as just the boy next door, your childhood best friend, and you didn’t think of him in terms of “handsome” or not back then.

You shift your gaze back to your shoes.  “I should have apologized too.  I should have never put you in that position in the first place.”  A beat, and you add, softer, “I’m sorry, Rhett.”

You hear movement beside you and feel his eyes on you.  “You don’t have to apologize for that.”  He sounds surprised, and it makes you turn and look him in the eyes for the first time since you sat down.

“I do.  It was awkward, and I made it more awkward, and it was stupid.”  You shake your head, huff in frustration to remember the girl you’d been three years ago.  Not that long, really, but you’ve grown up a lot since then.  “I was an idiot.”

Rhett chances a smile.  “You’re a lot of things, but idiot isn’t one of them.”

“Yeah, but it was stupid to ask you.”

His smile slips a bit; he leans back a shade.  “It wasn’t stupid—”

“I mean, I put you in a weird position.  That’s all I mean.  And it was stupid for me to be so worried about it.  It’ll happen how it happens.  We aren’t…I mean, we weren’t…”  You trail off, huff in frustration again.  “We used to be best friends.”

He sighs too.  “Yeah, I know.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“I know.”

“And I guess I was getting nervous about leaving Wabang, and nervous about going away to college, and I missed my friend and had this…this problem, I guess, so…”  You hold up your hands, helpless, and it makes Rhett smile again.

“Not everything is a problem that you need to solve,” he says, and he sways towards you, elbows you in the side just like he used to do.

You laugh a little.  “That was, though.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“Says the guy who never had that problem.”

He laughs, elbows you lightly again.  “You give me too much credit.”

That makes you remember the tenor of the situation three years ago.  High school.  Rhett pining over Maria.  She left Wabang, you heard.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him now.  “I heard Maria left town.”

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything about it.  He reaches out for another cookie and eats it, licks a crumb off his thumb.

“Anyway, I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things so weird,” you add.

He chuckles, elbows you a third time.  “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things fucking awful.”

You elbow him back finally, the answer to his outreach, the old call and response from your childhood.  “I missed you, you know.  In high school and in college both.”

“I missed you too,” he replies, and it feels good, like you’ve excised some old wound together, and now you can perhaps be friends again.

*****

The two of you don’t go all the way back to childhood, but you build something else.  Tentative at first, stilted moments of conversation when you see each other in the wild, but each time feels a little easier.

You’re interning with the town veterinary clinic, and you join the old doctor as he makes house calls from ranch to ranch.  You help steady horses while he vaccinates them.  You smear on paste for ringworm, hold his instruments when he cleans a hoof abscess.  You help him birth breech cattle; you stroke the muzzle of an old dog when it’s put to sleep. 

Rhett sees you when you join the vet at the Abbott ranch one day.  Royal’s favorite mare has a bad back hoof, and it makes Rhett smile to see you so professional.  You question Royal about the horse’s diet; you question the vet about what he thinks.  The vet asks you for your opinion, and you pause before you answer, look off into the distance thoughtfully before you tell him that a supplement of copper and zinc will help.

Cecilia invites you in afterwards for lemonade, and you accept gratefully.  The two of you chat, and Rhett is left as a third wheel so he gets to look his fill of you.  You seem more…comfortable with yourself.  He noticed it that first day when he saw you again in Wabang.  You sit up straight; you don’t curl in on yourself like you want to be invisible.  He remembers you from high school, how you always seemed to be mid-cringe…and it reminds him of that night in the hotel, how you had cringed away from him, shirtless as he got frustrated because you had been nervous.

He knows he apologized and you apologized and it should all be behind you, but it still makes him feel queasy with shame.  Pity-fucking the town orphan.

“Your mom would be proud,” Cecilia tells you, and you duck your head, mumble something, and just like that, you’re that high school girl again.  It makes the queasy wash of shame cede to a wave of protectiveness in Rhett.

Then you stand up and thank her for the lemonade, and she makes you promise to join them for dinner soon.  When you nod at Rhett, you try to step past him but he blocks your path.

“Hug tax,” he says, but it makes you burst into laughter.  Your mom used to do that:  block yours (and his, when he visited) path, demanded hugs as payment for passage.

“I smell like horse manure and sweat, Rhett Abbott.”

“I guarantee you I smell worse, but rules are rules.”  He holds his arms open, and you laugh again, step into them for a moment.  When he whispers “you stink” into your ear, it earns him a squawk of outrage and a pinch to his side, but you laugh the whole way back to your truck.

-----

You join them for dinner a few nights later.  You get to meet the newest Abbotts, Rebecca and Amy, and you break up the general tension that radiates off of the dour Royal like a miasma.

The dinner is largely uneventful.  Rhett catches you matching faces across the table at Amy, which makes the little girl laugh.  Cecilia asks about your years at college so far, and Perry jokingly asks if you’ve had any boyfriends since Rhett.

“No, none,” you reply simply, but it makes Rhett think.  It makes the gears start to turn.  He always assumed your so-called problem was solved while you were away, your virginity shed in some dorm room or apartment or at a party.  But he searches back to that conversation you had when he brought you the peace-offering cookies.  What did you say as you stammered out your own apology?

It’ll happen how it happens. 

Present tense, not past.

-----

He verifies it over that same weekend.  There’s another bonfire.  You turn up with the same crew as before—apparently you’re friendly with Billy Tillerson’s girlfriend.  Now that you and Rhett are back on good terms, he approaches you halfway through the night, and the two of you peel off a little separate from the rest.

“Big fan of the Tillersons then?” he asks, his tone mock-disgusted.  You hear the underlying playfulness and laugh.

“There’s a certain brand loyalty there, yeah.”

Rhett pulls a face, which makes you elbow him.  “Why?”

“Well, their cousin Drew took me to the winter formal sophomore year.”

“So?”

Another elbow to his side.  “He was my first kiss.”

“Gross.”

You laugh again.  “It could have been worse.  He popped a mint beforehand, at least.”

Rhett grunts at that, but he lets the moment lie for a beat before he asks, in a tone he hopes is casual, “did Drew Tillerson help you with your other problem too?”

You laugh again, but there’s less merriment in it.  “Negative, Ghost Rider.”

Maybe he shouldn’t push it, but he’s had a few shots of Fireball chased by plenty of beer, so he plunges head-first.  “Someone at college, then?”

That doesn’t elicit a laugh.  “No,” you reply, and now there’s an edge of tension in your voice.  A tread lightly edge.  Which…Rhett Abbott rarely treads lightly—he more often charges headfirst like a bull, and that’s exactly what he does now.

“Someone I know?”

“No.”  He glances at you, catches your narrowed eyes fixed on the fire.  “Leave it, Rhett.”

He doesn’t leave it.  He plunges head first.  “So it’s still a problem?”

It must be.  You must still be a virgin because you’re so discomfited.  You obviously hear judgement in his voice—judgement that doesn’t exist, of course—because you hike your shoulders up around your ears and hunch away from him.  You look so much like your high school self, suddenly insecure and cringing, and you mumble something about it not being a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone else, and then you duck away to go find someone else to talk to.

-----

The two of you hang out through the summer.  He works at the ranch and you have your internship, but you fall into the habit of spending the evenings together.  The weekends.  You go to the rodeo with him, watch from the stands.  Sometimes you sit with Perry and Rebecca when they come, and Perry makes sly comments to Rhett afterwards.  He calls you his girlfriend, just as he had teased when you were kids, but it hits Rhett different now.

Things with you feel easy.  Low stakes.  You’re friends again, and you slowly open up to each other.  Rhett tells you a little about Royal, their difficult relationship that has only grown more strained the older Rhett has gotten.  You talk about college, how lonely it can be since you are so focused on your studies.  Veterinary school is more competitive than med school, you tell him, so how can you make time for friends?

The corollary is how can you make time for love?  How can you make time to lose your virginity?

When you asked him to take your virginity three years ago, he had been confused and a little uncomfortable about he.  He couldn’t understand why you’d ask him, but with three years’ worth of added life experience, Rhett guesses that you asked because you trust him.  Wabang isn’t that big of a town.  There’s a dearth of available men you could have asked, especially back in high school.

Three years later, the memory makes a million emotions flit through Rhett.  A nostalgia for when life was slightly easier back then.  Shame that he had said what he did, sadness that he didn’t reach out sooner, that he let the bad feelings lie for three years.

But you had trusted him, even back then, so he wonders if you trust him now.  Would you ask him again, if you weren’t so embarrassed?  What if that evening in the hotel room had gone differently?  What if, instead of getting frustrated with how nervous you were, he had been a gentler man—what if he had handed you your shirt, pulled you into a hug, laid down on the bed with you and watched a movie instead?  What if you had fallen asleep together instead, just like when you were kids?

He has to wonder if that disastrous evening has made your virginity an even bigger deal.  That you had a plan to lose it, and that plan had gone horribly, so now it’s more of an issue.

Pity-fucking the town orphan.  The memory stings.  There were so many kinder things he could have said. 

Well, he has a semblance of a second chance now.  He sees you nearly every day.  You laugh with him again, have long chats.  Maybe he can do it over again, better the second time around.

-----

He’s the one who asks, the second time around.

The two of you are in his truck, driving back from Wabang.  Your truck is in the shop, so Rhett picked you up from work, but he takes the long way home.  You fiddle with the radio, scan through the static until you find the old country station out of Jackson.  There’s an old Loretta Lynn song playing that you hum along to, and you seem to be in a good mood, so Rhett plunges headfirst into it.

“If you wanted to try again,” he says, and his voice is rough at the edges.  “I was gonna offer…”

He trails off, and you stop humming along, and Loretta finishes her song, gives way to Merle Haggard singing about how his mama tried.

“Rhett,” is all you say, but his name is both a sigh and a warning. 

“I’m just saying.”  He swallows, tightens his grip on the steering wheel.  “I messed up before.  Ruined it.”  He glances over at you, but your face is turned away from him.  You’re looking out the window at the Wyoming dusk as the sun sets.

“Rhett, c’mon.”  Less a warning now, more a plea.

“I want to,” is all he says, and you don’t reply.  You don’t say anything else other than to murmur your thanks for the ride when he drops you off, and he doesn’t talk to you again until you call him days later and say, “okay.”

-----

Three years later, he does so much better.

He keeps it simple this time.  He remembers all those sleepovers in the pup tent, your parents within earshot of any nighttime terrors.  He remembers sleeping beside you, waking up to dawn bleeding in through the nylon of the tent, dew coating everything when your mom would unzip the little door and tell you that there were chocolate chip pancakes ready for the two of you. 

You’ve never been a high maintenance sort of girl.  You’ve always loved the wilderness around Wabang, the endless sky and wild storms and purple mountain ranges in the distance.  Where better than to do this than under the night sky, out on the range?

Rhett lays down a thick bedroll in the bed of his truck, then covers it with blankets.  It’s a banner night in Wyoming:  cool but not cold, the warmth of the summer day bleeding away to a comfortable coolness.  The bugs are few.  The sky is a velvety blue-black above you, the stars a scatter of diamonds tossed across it.  The faintest band of orange glows in the west, the last bit of sunlight before it’s full dark.

You’re just as nervous as before, but Rhett keeps his head this time.  He’s not a boy masquerading as a man this time; he’s older, smarter, has more experience.  Three years ago, Rhett only had a handful of sexual encounters to his repertoire—a handful of disappointing moments, drunken rendezvous with girls from high school, a couple of flings.  Nothing deep or meaningful.

He smooths his hands over your arms, then reaches up and cups your face.  He studies you a moment, takes in the unsteady way you’re breathing.  You’re his oldest and dearest friend, and he feels a weird twinge in his chest.  He chalks it up to nervousness on his part, but he’ll wonder later if perhaps it is love.

“Okay?” he asks, and you nod.

He bends his head and kisses you, and it’s the same as before.  You’re tentative with each other, but you warm up to him quickly:  you kiss him back, tease at him with a shy little sweep of your tongue, and when he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, you’re right there—sighing against him, sinking your teeth lightly into his lower lip before you suck against it.

You must have kissed, at least, in college.  You’re better at it now.  The thought should encourage him—he won’t be your only experience—but he feels an odd wash of jealousy.  He pictures you making out with someone better than him, better looking and smarter and on track to being more successful. 

He takes it as slow as you need.  He lets you set the pace.  He strips you out of your clothing, and he allows you to strip him out of his, and you don’t cringe from him this time.  It’s likely because it’s dark outside; Rhett can’t see much, but you feel amazing under his searching hands, soft and warm.  When he trails his fingertips over your bare skin, he feels how you break out in goosebumps, and he marvels at how sensitive you are.

Rhett’s learned a lot in the intervening years.  He’s no longer an eighteen year-old fumbling through sexual interludes.  He has a better understanding of women.  He spends a long moment stretched out beside you in the bed of his truck, working his fingers into your tight heat, feeling how wet you get as he eases you into this.  He pushes one finger, then a second.  He scissors them inside you, feels the slick muscles of your core push back against him.

“Just relax,” he whispers against your neck, and he kisses you there.  He feels your pulse under his lips, and he nuzzles against you, takes in the scent of your skin.  A moment later, he feels you relax a fraction, the tight grip on his fingers released just a bit.

He can feel you relax more as he kisses you, as he fingers you.  You’re warming up to the moment, pushing past whatever insecurities you have.  The setting helps, he thinks.  It’s not some anonymous hotel room with beige carpeting and the faint scent of old secondhand smoke.  It’s outside, the open range of your home that you love so much.  A waning moon and a million stars burn above you.  It must be a million times more magical than a three-star hotel by the interstate exit.

It's certainly better for him.  It takes him no time at all to get hard, even if he’s nervous.  You’re his oldest, dearest friend, and he’s never thought of you as a woman, really.  He’s never considered you as a sexual being, so it’s a revelation to see your naked body under the faint moonlight.  It’s a revelation to touch you, to cup your breasts and to put his lips against your pebbled nipples, to grind his cock against your bare hip to relieve the tension that coils tight and hot in his belly.

Rhett stretches out on the bed roll.  He fumbles for his discarded jeans, finds the foil packet.  He scrambles to roll a condom onto himself, and then he encourages you to take charge, to take your first time into your own hands.

“You’re in charge,” he murmurs.  He takes your hand, threads his fingers through yours.  He tugs you towards him until your face is pressed near his, and he brushes his lips against yours.  “Just like ridin’ a horse.”

You snort softly.  “Am I gonna need a riding helmet for this?”

He grins up at you.  “I won’t buck you off.”

He guides you as you straddle him, grasps the softness of your hips as you settle over him.  He grips the base of his cock, gives himself a couple of strokes, then holds himself steady as you lower yourself, slide against his length, and even through the latex he can feel how warm you are.

Then you reach down and take him in hand, and it should feel weird, his best friend wrapping her fingers around his cock, but it doesn’t, and Rhett doesn’t question why because you may be a virgin but you understand the mechanics of this, and you notch the blunt head of his cock at your entrance.  When you start to slowly lower yourself onto him, every blessed thought drains out of his head, and every bit of his attention focuses on where he’s entering you—the unbearably tight grip you have, the way your hands settle on his chest as you brace yourself.  You take it slow—so goddamned slow—stilling, taking a breath, then pushing onwards. 

When you’re settled onto him, when you’re sitting flush against him, Rhett breathes out a harsh, punched-out breath, and he asks if you’re okay.  His voice is rough.  His throat feels too dry.  It feels unreal.  His oldest, dearest friend, the girl he used make s’mores with and trade ghost stories with…you’re naked, you’re nodding at his question, you’re sitting on him, and his cock is buried in your depths.  He’s just taken your virginity, and his throat feels too dry and too tight, and his brain struggles to think of the perfect thing to say to you, but your body starts to move above him and he never has a chance to say it.

Your rhythm is clumsy at first, too fast, too jerky.  Rhett grasps your waist and guides you gently.  He sets you in a slower, more even rhythm; you ride him steadily and you make the cutest little whimpers each time to settle back on him.  Each time you do, the coil of tension in his lower belly tightens more, and Rhett breathes carefully to avoid coming too soon.

He slips one hand from your hip and reaches to where you’re joined to him.  He finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he traces an infinity symbol there, around and ‘round with his thumb that makes those cute whimpers turn into outright moans.  He senses that you’re holding back, but you’re in the middle of nowhere.

“No need to be quiet,” he tells you.  “Lemme hear it, baby.”

You moan louder at that, the command or the sweet-talking nickname or both, and he notices that you start to pick up the pace, riding him faster, so he does the same—he rubs against your clit harder, faster, because he feels his own orgasm coming up fast at him.  His balls feel heavy and taut, and he’s so damned close—

“C’mon, let go,” he growls, but his sedate passivity crumbles.  He sits up underneath you, jerks a squeal from you as he sits up and wraps his arms around you.  He pulls you closer to him, and the change in position grants him another quarter-inch into you, and it makes the base of his cock grind against your clit with each bounce in his lap.

“Let go,” he orders; he mumbles it against your lips.  “I wanna feel you come, baby.  Wanna feel you come for the first time,” he says, but when you open your mouth to respond, he kisses you, shoves his tongue into your panting mouth, licks against you as you whimper from deep in your throat.

Then he feels it.  He feels it—the way your orgasm breaks through you, the hard snap of your hips as you arch against him, as your cunt grips him:  your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your arms tight around his shoulders.  You drop your head on his shoulder, and he feels your mouth there.  You stifle the sounds of your pleasure against him, and he’d admonish you, but as your orgasm tears through you, he feels the sharp bite of your teeth into his skin, and it unlocks a kink Rhett never knew he had because the sting of pain is what makes the tension in him snap.  He groans out your name, manages a shit—fuck—baby, then he comes too, ropes of his cum spilling in the condom as you tremble in his arms.

-----

In the end, Rhett Abbott claims your first time that night on the range, under the stars.

He gets your second time too, later that same night:  him on top of you, you with your legs wrapped around him, making good use of the spare condom he brought along.

He gets your third time as well, the next day.  It’s a quick moment, a bona fide quickie in the Abbott barn, the scent of clean hay and sweat as he bends you over the railing of an empty horse stall.  He pulls out in plenty of time, pants as you turn around to grasp him and jerk him off the rest of the way, his cum spilling over your warm palm.

And your fourth time.  He sneaks into your bedroom, and though your uncle is out of town for the night, Rhett still pretends you need to be quiet:  he spoons you from behind, hikes your leg over his and slides into you.  He breathes quietly as he fucks you gently, and he clasps a hand over your mouth as you come, and when your teeth nip into his calloused palm, he groans and comes too.

The next morning, your fifth time as you sit on the kitchen counter and wrap your legs around his ass as he drives into you. 

Rhett never examines his feelings around it.  When he’s alone—baling hay, fixing fences along the ranch parameter—he doesn’t let his thoughts ruminate over you too much.  There’s a truth there, buried under all the sexual interludes and underneath all the shared history and hurt, but he doesn’t excavate it. 

He only lets the facts stand.  You’re his oldest, dearest friend.  You are sexually compatible.  End of story. 

*****

You have plans to meet Rhett in town, at the bar.  You’ve had a long day at your job, deworming a flock of sheep, and you smell terrible, so you stop home to shower and change your clothes.  You stare at your closet critically; you’ve suffered for lack of a mother in your formative years.  You don’t quite understand how to be a woman—you know there’s different lengths of skirts, for example, that work best depending on one’s height or shoes, but you’re damned if you know what those rules are.

Still, you want to look nice.  You want to look nice for Rhett.  Under torture, you’d probably admit it, but you can barely even admit it to yourself:  you’re in love with him.  You have been for a while.  You loved him when you were children in that vague, puppyish way kids love each other.  You loved him when you were in high school, pined from afar and moped over sad songs on the radio because he never looked your way.

And now here you are.  Hope bubbles up in you from time to time, when you’re alone and considering what your future might hold.  You always had a deep, bleak dread that you’d always be alone—sudden orphanhood can warp a psyche, you guess.  But for the first time, you have tentative moments of hope. 

You find a sundress, the cotton a little faded but in the low lights of the bar, no one should notice.  You pull on a pair of strappy sandals.  You dust your face and neck with some of your mother’s old luminating powder, and the scent of it makes a sharp blade of melancholy lance through you.

Then you drive into Wabang, and your stomach gets those fluttery butterflies as you park, slip your keys into your purse, and walk in. 

It takes a moment to find him.  He usually posts at the bar when he’s waiting for you, the door in his line of sight, but when you enter the din of the bar, he’s nowhere to be found.  Maybe he found a buddy and is chatting with him.  Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

If your hope bubbles up in you, effervescent, then your hope is easily popped when you find Rhett.  He’s not in the bathroom and he hasn’t found a buddy, but he’s found Maria Olivares.  The wayward dream girl has returned, and she’s as gorgeous as ever (she must understand skirt lengths, you guess), and her lovely face is tilted towards Rhett as she laughs at whatever he says.  And worse, his handsome face is lit up like a damned Christmas tree, laughing too, and your hope is popped and burnt to the ground and the earth around it is salted because Rhett has never looked at you like that.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, and you turn on your heel and fast-walk out of the bar.  The path back to your truck shimmers, wavers in front of you.  You realize it’s because your eyes are full of tears, and when you realize it, they break free, start to course down your face.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself, and you repeat it over and over:  as you get into your truck, as you turn the ignition, as you peel out of the parking lot and as your tires throw up an arc of gravel.  You repeat it like a mantra, and you fix your attention on the road.  You drive home; you leave Rhett at the bar, and it’s a confirmation when he doesn’t text you until the next morning asking where you’ve been.

By then, though, you’re already halfway gone.  It’s August, after all, and school is starting again soon, and leaving Wabang a few weeks early is easy enough.

[vivwritesfics]

If Your Daddy Knew

The youngest member of the Tillerson family was so sweet, Rhett couldn't help but be enamoured with her. There weren't many other people he would risk climbing through the window of the Tillerson house for. If her daddy knew, there was no way he'd make it out alive (worth it)

Set outside of the canon events of the show

This man has my entire heart lol

Sneaking onto the Tillerson's ranch was stupid. That was why he didn't tell anybody what he was doing. It was a death wish, but she was worth it.

Rhett went around the back of the house. It was far too big, he had always thought, especially compared to his own house. The Tillerson family had just as many members as the Abbott family, yet their house was nearly double the size.

Fuck, there were so many windows. Rhett tried to keep himself hidden as he decided on a window. But it was all guess work. With no way to tell which one led to her bedroom, Rhett approached the window to his right.

He moved slowly, trying to peer into the dark room. But he could see nothing. Cupping his hands around his eyes he desperately tried to search for a sign that the room belonged to her. Pictures of her friends on the walls, the desk he knew she'd keep so tidy, sheets that were no doubt the comfiest thing skin had ever touched and a stuffed animal he was sure she'd have on her bed.

Suddenly, the door opened and light flooded into the room. Shit. Rhett ducked down beneath the window as Luke Tillerson walked into the room, the room that certainly belonged to man.

With baited breath, Rhett waited, unable to move. He kept his body pressed against the wall as the light switched on, light that shone outside of the window, and the shadow of Luke Tillerson's body approached. Rhett's eyes followed the movement of the shadow as Luke reached up and pulled the curtains shut.

It was only then that Rhett allowed himself to release a breath. All that time he'd been holding it, waiting for one of the Tillerson family, probably Trevor, to chase him away.

He moved to the next window and tried to peer in. But his view was blocked by closed curtains.

Instead of risking it and knocking his bruised knuckles against the glass, Rhett moved onto the next window.

This had to be hers. He could see the colour of her curtains, the bottom of them cream. But Rhett still waited, waited for any sign of her brothers.

But there was none. Nothing Rhett had to wait for. His knuckles tapped against the window and, seconds later, the curtains opened.

In nothing but her pyjama shorts and a tank top, she looked at Rhett. A smile split across her face and she rushed to open the window and pull him into the bedroom with her.

She pressed her finger to her lips the minute he fell into the room with a thud. They were still, waiting for some reaction to the noise they had made. But nobody knocked on the door or walked past it. Rhett supposed the rooms were so large nobody was bound to hear them.

He sat on the end of her bed and began unlacing his boots. "I missed you," she said as she shut the window.

As soon as his boots were on the floor she climbed into his lap. "I missed you too, darlin'," he said as his hands settled on her hips, his deep voice sending a shiver through her.

Her hands were on the back of his neck, playing with his hair as it curled around his ears.

It had been three days since Rhett had last pressed his lips against her own. Three long, miserable days. The groan he let out the moment she leaned in and kissed him.

But immediately she pulled away, so quick it had his hat falling from his head and onto the bed behind him. Her hand quickly covered his mouth as a series of quiet giggles left her lips. "You gotta be quiet, Rhett," she whispered and leaned in to kiss his neck.

She was teasing, not making it easy for him. His hands squeezed at her hips as she moved against him. But Rhett knew he'd never have her in this bed. Not with Trevor, Luke and Billy down the hall.

He slightly pushed her away from him. "This isn't fair," he said, a slight pout on his lips.

But then she climbed off of his lap and Rhett regretted saying anything at all. "C'mon," she said and grabbed his hat. She placed it on her head and sat against her pillows.

Rhett sucked in a breath. "Don't do that to me, baby," he muttered and laid beside her. He pulled his hat from her head, placed it by his boots and pulled her against him.

They laid together for a matter of hours. Or, it could have been minutes. Time seemed to stop and pass too quickly when he was with her. His calloused fingers brushed against the skin over her stomach, dipped beneath her shorts, but he didnt touch her, not in that way. His thumb rubbed over her hip.

"If your daddy knew, he'd kill me," Rhett mumbled and kissed the back of her neck.

She let out a content sigh and rested her hand over his. "I know," she whispered and shuffled back, pressing her body closer to his own. "Trust me, Rhett, I know."

"We have to tell him one day, darlin'," he replied and changed her grip to lace his fingers through her own.

She let out a scoff. "It's not just my dad." She rolled her, her hand against his chest, fingers feeling the beat of his heart. "It's my brothers, too."

"I can take them."

"I don't want you to." She pressed her lips to his neck as Rhett pulled her in closer, his chin resting on her head.

He could have fallen asleep there, holding her body against his own. She was close to it, eyes closed and breathing even.

But, when the hallway light switched on and the shadow of somebody's shoes appeared under the door. "Shit," Rhett muttered.

Within seconds the window was open and his boots were in his hands and he was leaping out of the window. "Wait!" She hissed, rushing after him.

Her hands were on the window, ready to close it. But she couldn't, not without grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

***

"Mornin'," she mumbled as she walked into the kitchen. But she could barely be heard over Billy's singing. She stole something from Billy's plate and grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

Suddenly, Billy stopped singing. He didn't trail off, just stopped all together. "What is that?" He asked as he stared at her.

"What?" She pulled open the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice.

But Billy didn't respond.

"I recognise that hat," said Trevor as he walked over and plucked it off her head. "But, it's not yours. You got a boyfriend you haven't told us about?"

Fuck, she hadn't even realised she'd put it on. But wearing it, wearing something that belonged to Rhett filled her with so much joy. Her way of showing him off without showing him off.

"Jesus, fuck," came Lukes voice. "That's Rhett Abbotts hat!"

"Give it back, Trev," she said as she reached for it. But he held it high, too high for her to reach.

Trevor turned around, completely ignoring his sisters attempts. "Well boys, how about we go and pay Rhett Abbott a visit?"

[writingdumpster]

goodbye kisses

pairing: Rhett Abbott x reader

warnings: none

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

word count: .8k

You woke up without Rhett beside you for the first time in years. The night before you had instructed him to sleep on the couch, but waking up without his arms around you still felt uncomfortable. You sighed.

The fight had been bad. The worst you ever had. And it was your first since being married. You had made it a year without having one, which you were informed by all your friends was a very long honeymoon period.

Earlier that night Rhett had gotten thrown off his bull in the first round. He had been immediately rushed off to the hospital. He was fine. The doctor said he had two broken ribs and a mild concussion. When you got home that night you had said you would stay home with him for the week, but Rhett had told you he didn’t need it. He said he would just keep working. You spent the next two hours fighting about how he didn’t take care of himself enough. It turned into a fight about how you didn’t support his career and then a fight about how bull riding was going to kill him.

“You always want me to stop! You’ve never supported me!” Rhett yelled.

“That’s not true and you know it!” You spit back. “I go to every single one of your competitions.”

“Because you’re scared! Not because you care about it!” Rhett yelled.

“Of course I’m scared, Rhett!” You shouted. “You could die and you never let me help you when you’re hurt!”

“That’s because I don’t need you!”

That had ended the fight. You had left the room without another word and slammed the bedroom door behind you.

You took a deep breath as you headed out of your bedroom for the kitchen. Rhett was standing at the counter with breakfast made as he waited for you. You stopped in the doorway when you saw him.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Rhett called hopefully. You stared at him for a moment.

“I don’t need breakfast. There’s always donuts in the teacher’s lounge on Fridays,” you said. Rhett’s whole posture deflated.

“I thought you were going to stay home with me,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t need me,” you responded. You gathered your things by the door. “Bye, Rhett.” You left without another word. Rhett stood in the kitchen in complete crisis.

You didn’t kiss him goodbye. That had never happened before. Rhett started rushing to clean up so he could go after you but immediately gasped in pain when he moved too fast. He almost started rushing again, but paused. He was doing exactly the thing you hated.

Rhett took his time getting ready, being sure not to stretch himself too far. Rhett called Royal to drop him off at your school. He waved at the receptionist and then made his way back to your classroom. He opened the door and looked at you, a small smile on his face. You looked at him and then at your class full of second graders. They were in the midst of a reading assignment. You reluctantly rose from your desk and stepped into the hall with him.

“What?” You asked in a whisper.

“You didn’t kiss me goodbye,” Rhett said. You screwed your eyebrows together.

“Yeah, I know—”

“And I’m sorry,” Rhett continued. “And I need you. More than I need anything.” His hands came to rest gently on your hips. “I’m sorry,” he said again. You sighed.

“Me too,” you said, letting your hands fall against his chest. Rhett smiled.

“Please come home and take care of me,” Rhett requested.

“You don’t have to do it just to humor me,” you said.

“I’m not. It’s for me. I love it when you take care of me,” he said. “I just don’t always think I deserve it.” You gave him a sympathetic look before leaning up on your toes to kiss him. There was a small commotion behind the door. You looked over and saw a pair of eyes peeking through the crack in the door.

“Mrs. Abbott’s kissing the cowboy!” You heard a much too loud whisper. Rhett chuckled.

“Can you watch them while I go get someone to cover the class?” You asked. Rhett’s eyes went wide.

“You want me to walk into that room after that and let all those kids question me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said. “It’ll be good practice for when we have ours.” Rhett beamed.

“Will making them be part of your caretaking?” He asked. You shook your head in disbelief.

“No,” you said with a smile. “You have two broken ribs.” Rhett groaned. “Don’t whine, you know I’m right.”

“Can I at least have the goodbye kiss you stole from me?” He asked. You giggled.

“You just got one,” you said.

“That was a makeup kiss,” Rhett said. “I want my goodbye kiss too.” You rolled your eyes before giving him a short peck. You started to release him to go find a substitute, but his hands stayed on your hips.

“You’re leaving me again,” Rhett said. “I get another goodbye kiss.”

[rosiahills22]

Just think, a year ago we didn’t have Top Gun Maverick now look at us, whores 🤣

[delopsia]

Asking Rhett to call you when he gets the chance, and he straight up video calls you while he's standing in the shower.

Phone propped up on the shelf, soap in his hair and rolling down the crevices of his chest and shoulders. There's dirt still clinging to his jaw, his ribs are mottled black and blue from where a heifer kicked him, and he's so fucking nonchalant about it. Kicking up a conversation like it's any old day, rubbing that ratty old cloth across his big chest, twisting and turning beneath the water.

You can hardly recall what you wanted to talk about. Too transfixed by how the water runs down his back and the fleeting glimpses of a happy trail. You know what he's doing. He knows that you know what he's doing. But that doesn't make it any less exciting when he tilts his head and offers to come over to give you a closer view.

[topherwrites]

dating our favorite silly little cowboy (who's an accessory to murder), rhett abbott.

[bradshawsbaby]

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

Always having feelings about that cowboy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

late night prompts

[rhettabbotts]

it’s a bad idea, right? - rhett abbott x fem!reader

pairing: rhett abbott x fem!reader

summary: mixing tequila and calls from your ex. what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ only. smut. rough sex. drinking. bad decisions. mentions of a breakup. p in v. a lil choking. dirty talk. yearning. love confessions.

a/n: this is for my dear abby’s (@mothdruid) writing challenge. i have been thinking about writing a fic with rhett and this song since i heard it and abby gave me the perfect reason to do it 🥺💜

“Come over.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as you took another sip of your Long Island. It’s been nearly three months since you heard from Rhett. Nothing but radio silence since the day he left town. He was chasing his dream of riding professionally, you needed to focus on your career. You were on different paths and you grew further apart with each month until the end when it was nothing but slamming doors and heated arguments.

Your friends warned you about him. Told you he’d chew you up and spit you out in a heartbeat and you didn’t want to believe them at first. You fell hard and fast for Rhett and you couldn’t have stopped it.

Another message came in. And then another. All of which went ignored while you ordered another drink. Eleanor was talking about her coworker, the one she so desperately wanted to fuck she could hardly stand it. You felt bad for zoning out but your mind kept going back to the man texting you.

“El, I’m sorry. I gotta- I gotta get some fresh air. Save my seat?”

You hopped off the bar stool and headed towards the door, taking a look over your shoulder before walking out into the crisp autumn air.

Your thumb hovered over the call button. You knew it was a bad idea. You knew you’d regret it tomorrow. But between the tequila shots and the memories of Rhett’s hands, your phone was ringing before you could change your mind.

“Hey,” his gravelly voice muttered on the other end of the line and it sent a white-hot fire through your veins.

“Hi,” you stuttered out, pressing your cool hand to your heated face. “Why are you texting me now?”

“I miss you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do! And I just moved into a new place. My place,” Rhett said, a little breathless. He sounded like he was pacing the floors, or he had been running, or he was- No. Don’t think about that.

“That’s nice. What does that have to do with me?” You questioned, a snarky tone escaping you.

He smirked at that. It had everything to do with you. He needed you. And he knew you needed him.

“I just wanna see you. Friend to friend,” he said playfully.

“I don’t know... I’ve been drinking and I’m out with a few friends and-“

“Please, darlin’. Just for a little bit,” Rhett pleaded. God, he sounded so pretty when he begged. You shook your head at the thought. “I’ll send you the address.”

You sighed deeply before hanging up the phone, a text coming in not a second later with his new address. What were you going to tell Eleanor? Lexie? You really didn’t want a lecture. You just kissed them on the cheek while grabbing your bag and called for an Uber.

Passing street lights and the light hum of the engine was enough to make your brain turn static. There was nothing on your mind but Rhett. The way he smelled. The way he kissed. The way his fingers would curl just right when he-

“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver notified, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you ascended the stairwell to the second floor. He was already standing there, hand braced on the top of the door frame. When did he get a tattoo on the inside of his bicep?

Rhett had a smile on his face. That crooked grin that always meant trouble. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off his stupidly handsome face.

“There you are,” Rhett said proudly, knowing the hold he still had over you.

“Shut up,” you commanded as you pushed him through the door, tugging at the hem of his white t-shirt. He pulled it off with one hand, tossing it haphazardly onto the side table’s lampshade.

You were tripping over your feet as he pulled you towards the bedroom, hands pushing down the straps of your dress. They were calloused as ever. You couldn’t wait to feel the roughness of them rubbing against your chest, your thighs, your hips.

“God, you taste the same. I wonder if that’s everywhere,” Rhett muttered, mostly to himself but his words never failed to make your thighs clench.

“Less talking, more undressing.”

One second passed and then you heard a loud rip! before the cool air hits your back. Rhett had torn your dress right down the zipper, shoving his tongue in your mouth once more before you could protest.

Once you made it through his bedroom door, he took a moment to stop and take a look at you. You were standing in the middle of the room in nothing but your bra and panties. You should’ve worn something more fancy, more lacy like he liked. But he looked at you hungrily as his eyes roamed your nearly naked form. A low growl released his throat as he stalked forward, grabbing handfuls of your breasts roughly.

“Fuck, baby. Such a gorgeous thing. I’ve thought about you every night for the past three months,” Rhett confessed. He sounded genuine but you couldn’t be for sure. You were here to fuck. Nothing more.

Your eyes rolled back when Rhett pulled one cup down, bending slightly to wrap his lips around a peaked nipple. He suckled and tugged with his teeth, moaning loudly when your fingers tangled in his hair and pulled harshly.

“Bed. Now. Now!” You whimpered, pushing at his chest until the backs of his knees knocked against the mattress.

Rhett pulled you on top of him, his hard cock nestling perfectly against your clothed cunt. It caused you both to let out desperate noises, his hands finding their way to your hips and guiding you to move over the denim.

“Condom?”

“Drawer,” Rhett exasperated, eager hands tearing the flimsy cotton of your panties until they ripped as well.

“Rhett! Jesus, stop acting like a fucking caveman! I have to go home tomorrow, you know,” you fussed as you jerked the button open on his jeans.

“We’ll see about that,” he proclaimed proudly. That damn smile is back on his face. You rolled your eyes and ripped the foil with your teeth, causing a winded sound to leave Rhett. Good. You had the upper hand now.

He wriggled out of his jeans, hastily kicking them off the end of the bed and tugging his black boxers halfway down his thighs. He hissed as you gripped the base of his erection, slowly rolling the condom down while biting your lip. The head was red and leaking and your mouth watered at the sight. No time for that. You needed to feel him inside you.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that, woman. I ain’t a piece of meat,” he teased, then groaned wantonly when you positioned him at your dripping hole. You were going to regret not prepping yourself in the morning but you couldn’t wait another second. You gasped loudly as you slowly descended his length, nearly hissing at the stretch.

“So desperate for my cock, sweet girl couldn’t even take the time to stretch herself,” Rhett tutted, bracing his heels against the mattress and sliding his hands behind his head. You didn’t know if you wanted to smack him or kiss him. You eyed the black ink that lined his inner bicep. It took you a moment for your mind to process what the words were but your heart seized in your chest when you realized it was song lyrics from yours and his favorite song. You used to sing it in the truck all the time.

“You gonna ride me or are you gonna keep staring?”

“Do you ever shut your mouth or does it just keep running?” You retorted as you settled against his lap. You wiggled your hips and squeezed your thighs, grinning proudly when a pinched whimper came from him. You took your time slowly sliding up and down his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting that spot inside you just right.

“I like you better when you’re not talking,” you said, picking up your pace ever so slightly.

“And I like you better when you ride my cock like you mean it,” Rhett growled, bucking his hips into you, causing you to fall forward and brace your hands on his upper torso. You snarled at him and his witty comment. Fuck him.

Your right hand slid across his collarbone and toward the column of his neck, bracing your hand there.

“Do it. I know you want to, baby,” Rhett responded, looking up at you with his crystal blue eyes wide and thin bottom lip tucked between his perfect teeth.

Everything became a blur after that moment. It was all nails and hands and moans. The headboard knocked against the wall as you bounced desperately on him, your hand wrapped tightly around his throat. He grunted loudly as he chased his release along beside you, the sound of skin slapping filled the room. It was filthy and feral and you could feel your thighs trembling uncontrollably.

“Come for me, sweet girl. Fuck, like a fucking vice. Come. M’right there with you,” Rhett begged, voice raspy.

Stars exploded behind your eyelids as you reached your peak, nails digging into Rhett’s pectorals. A sound escaped you that sounded like a near scream, disregarding whatever neighbors Rhett may have. He was not far behind you, even with the condom on you could feel his release.

You collapsed forward onto Rhett’s sweaty chest, trying to catch your breath. His heart pounded against your ear and his chest rose and fell rapidly, moving you with it. You heard a car horn down below, pulling you from your post-sex haze.

You winced when Rhett lifted your hips, a slight sting radiating from between your legs. He grunted deeply, grimacing at the feeling of his oversensitive member. You rolled over onto your back before rolling onto your side and propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him throw the condom in the wastebasket beside the bed and making his way toward the en suite bathroom.

You took the time to look around the room. It didn’t look much different than the room that he had at his parents' home. The same posters decorated the walls; his record player in the corner on the old table with the records stacked beneath it. His bed was bigger, that much you noticed.

Another tug at your heartstrings occurred when you saw a picture framed tucked on the back of his dresser. You couldn’t see the entire thing but you knew the picture all too well. It was a picture of the two of you at the lake the previous summer. It was your favorite picture. You couldn’t believe he still had it, still displayed it. Not that you could judge. It still sat proudly on your desk at home.

You blinked the tears away as Rhett emerged from the bathroom, still naked but now carrying a damp cloth. He cleaned you gently, awkward silence swirling around you. He placed a small kiss on the inside of your knee, stubble tickling you slightly.

“Thanks,” you whispered softly, earning a hum in response.

Rhett tugged a pair of sweatpants on and crawled into bed behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him.

“Rhett… we need to talk,” you spoke into the darkness.

“In the morning,” he said, soft snores escaping him not but a couple of moments later.

Birds chirped outside the window and the smell of french toast and fresh coffee flooded your senses. Your head pounded and your mouth was dry but you grinned at the familiar scent of Rhett. You didn’t get to enjoy the moment long before your phone buzzed on the floor in the pocket of your shredded dress.

You wrapped the sheets around you and bent to pick it up, groaning when you saw that Eleanor had called you twenty times. An incoming call making it the twenty-first.

“Don’t yell at me,” you pleaded, waiting for the berating to begin.

“Where the hell are you? I tried coming by your place this morning for our usual morning after brunch and you’re not answering. I’m worried!”

“Sorry, I was asleep.” Not a total lie.

“Where are you?” El questioned.

“Not at home…”

“Hey, honey. You want cream in your coffee? I got a fresh pot going.”

You smacked your forehead and cringed at the sound of Rhett’s voice filtering through the room.

“That’s not- Oh my god. You didn’t-”

“Love you, El! I’ll talk to you later,” you rushed to hang up the phone, throwing it across the mattress and letting out a frustrated noise into your hands. Rhett was standing at the door with a tray of food.

“Hungry?” He asked as he made his way towards you, taking a seat next to you on the bed. He sat the tray to the side and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Starving, actually. Look… about last night. I- I don’t normally do that,” you confessed.

“What? Come to your ex’s house in the middle of the night and fu-”

“Yeah. That.” Rhett laughed at your sudden shyness. He always knew his crudeness flustered you. “I just- these past few months have been hell without you. And I guess I got a little too excited when you called me last night. But I don’t think I can just be a late-night booty call for you.”

“I don’t want you to be that,” Rhett said.

“Oh.”

“I want so much more.” Rhett’s large hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to make you look at him in the eyes. “I was a damn fool to let you go, sweetheart. And I’ll be damned if I make that mistake again.”

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as you surged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed your temple and held you close.

“Now eat up. I learned to cook this just for you.”

It may have been a bad idea last night, but now you’re thinking it was the best decision you’ve ever made as you shared a piece of french toast with Rhett.

tagging those who may be interested: @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @laracrofted @whisperofsong @damrlova @arctvrvs @bobgasm @mxgyver @ryebecca @nobody7102 @sebsxphia

[petcr3]

dreams | rhett abbott x reader

summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know

a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out

You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.

“Wabang?”

“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.” 

“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”

“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.

“Mean.” 

You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.

“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.

“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer

“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.

“Thought you did that anyway.”

“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”

You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.

“Go on.”

“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”

“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..

“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”

“What about a dog?”

“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”

“Agreed.”

“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.

“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”

You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.

“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.

“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.

“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.

“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”

“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”

“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.

“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair. 

“Where’d I lose you?”

“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.

“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.

“The what?”

“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.

“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”

“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment. 

“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.

“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.

“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”

“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.

Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.

[lewmagoo]

try a little tenderness | rhett abbott

description: in which you take care of each other in different ways

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, slight angst, very brief mention of religious trauma, rhett's childhood trauma, smut, dom/sub undertones, rhett is a switch, mention of kink play, oral (m receiving), deep throating, cum swallowing

notes: just a self-indulgent little somethin'-somethin' with some holiday vibes to go along with it. hope y'all enjoy

You were barely holding it together. 

The rain that poured from the dreary sky seemed to encapsulate your mood as you made your way home from work that evening. It was mid-November, and the weather was just beginning to make its shift into winter. 

On your little homestead, you and your husband had been battening down the hatches, preparing the house and the surrounding property for the onslaught of frigid temperatures and snow storms that were sure to blow in over the next few weeks. 

Wyoming winters were long and hard. But somehow, you didn’t mind them that much. Not when you had your little farmhouse to snuggle into on days when the weather got bad. You’d moved into the house when you and Rhett had first gotten married. Although it was a house that had been in your family for years, it was a fixer-upper, and everyone had told you that you were wasting your money. But the two of you were determined to make a home out of it. And you had. It was a safe haven for both of you. 

And now, you were running to it, seeking refuge in its warmth, and in the comfort of your husband’s arms, because he was what made it a home. 

They say home is where the heart is. He was your heart. 

He was so much steadier than you were. At the moment, you felt incredibly fragile. As if a gust of cold wind would shatter you into millions of tiny pieces and leave Rhett to have to pick up those pieces and painstakingly glue you back together. 

You’d been trying, but failing, to hold in your tears the entire thirty-minute drive home. You couldn’t even bring yourself to turn on your driving playlist to occupy the silence, you were simply too overwhelmed and needed the peace and quiet. 

All you could think about was how deeply you longed to be in Rhett’s comforting embrace. He was the only one who could console you when you were like this. And he loved being that for you. Knowing he was your source of comfort above all others made him feel special. It made him feel needed. 

It was him you depended on. Him you allowed to see you at your most vulnerable. He cherished those moments. Even though it pained him to see you suffering, it brought him some semblance of peace to know that he was providing you comfort. 

He knew that things had been difficult for you as of late. You were at a crossroads in your life, forced to make some hard decisions that had been weighing heavily on you. You’d spent countless hours agonizing over them. 

Sometimes, it felt as if your only easy choice in life had been choosing to marry Rhett. You’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. He was good. He was kind. And he loved you. Did he come with his fair share of struggles? Absolutely. But that was what made him human. All the things he had been through had shaped him into the perfect man for you.  

You had both gone through hell to get to each other. Your souls were bonded together, forged in the fires of great tribulation. But you were stronger together because of it. 

You had built a life together. One of peace and security, far away from those who had wronged you. Rhett had distanced himself from his family. He only kept in contact with his mother and his niece. 

Gone were the days of walking on eggshells, trying to avoid knock-down drag-out arguments with his brother. He didn’t have to use that sort of caution with you, because you never treated him that way. He’d learned how to communicate his feelings, rather than fight about them. There were never screaming matches within the walls of your home. Never a raised voice. Never a harmful hand laid upon the other. 

It was a place of solace. And that was why you were running to it. 

As you pulled into the driveway, the rain gave way as the first flakes of November snow began to swirl from the sky. Normally, you would stop to admire them, but you hardly even noticed the white flurries as you pulled into the carport next to the house. 

Your eyes were blurring with hot tears, and all you wanted was to get inside, to find Rhett and fall into his arms. But as you climbed out of the car, the strap of your bag got caught on the gearshift. You didn’t notice until it was too late, and in a very dramatic turn of events, the force of the catch was enough to send you stumbling. On the way down, your ribs clashed with the bottom edge of your car, sending sharp pain blossoming through your torso. 

You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathed through the ache. Meanwhile, Rhett was inside the house, having just seen the flash of your headlights in the window, signaling that you’d arrived home. Eagerly, he headed to the kitchen, with the intent of making dinner, because it was his night to do so. He was making grilled cheese, the one thing he had finally mastered in the kitchen, and he wanted it to be nice and hot for you, so he’d waited until that moment to begin preparing dinner. 

But as he set to work, he noticed that it was taking you a while to come inside. Curious, he glanced out the window that overlooked the carport, and to his surprise, he saw you on the ground next to your car. 

His jovial mood dissipated, replaced with concern. Without hesitation, he hurried to the door, where he shoved his feet into his worn, old boots and then wrenched the door open. 

“Darlin’?” He called out, as he stepped outside, boots crunching on gravel. Quickly, he rounded your car, which gave him a full view of you crumpled on the ground, crying. Immediately, he was rushing to your aid. “What happened?! Are y’alright?”

He knelt beside you, wide-eyed, searching your body for any signs of outward harm. His protective instincts had kicked in.

“I-I fell,” you managed to whimper out. Honestly, it wasn’t even the fact that you’d fallen that kept you on the ground. It was the fact that you were entirely depleted of physical and emotional strength, and once you’d hit the ground, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand back up. 

“Are ya hurt?” That was his biggest concern. He’d drive you to the hospital if he had to. 

Your bottom lip wobbled as a fresh wave of tears poured down your weather-cooled cheeks. “A-a little,” came your response. You knew that your ribs were going to bruise. 

“Hospital hurt?”

“No.”

Rhett nodded, relaxing a little. “Alright. I’ll help ya up. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

Lovingly, he helped you to your feet, securing his arm around your waist, and grabbing your bag from the car before he led you into the house. The warmth washed over you immediately. You hadn’t realized how cold you were, but the slight tingle in your fingertips told you that you had certainly gotten a chill from outside. 

Rhett closed the door behind you, effectively shutting out the cold. You stood there in the entryway, unmoving as you felt another wave of tears overcome you. Your husband hadn’t noticed yet, as he was taking off his boots, but when he stood up, he saw you frozen in place. 

“What’s the matter, pun’kin?” He asked. His pronunciation of pumpkin, the sweet nickname he’d given you years ago when you were still dating. 

His gentle concern was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Immediately, you turned, surging forward into his arms. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered, wrapping you up in his embrace. You melted into a fit of sobs, burying your face against his broad chest. 

“Hey now, I’ve got’ya. Ain’t never gonna let you go.”

His assurance only made you cry harder. You loved him so much. He was so good to you. 

His hand, large and warm, came up to cradle the back of your head, and he slowly rocked from side to side, soothing you with a quiet “shh” as he let you cry. He didn’t inundate you with questions, although he did want to know what had you weeping so brokenly in his arms. It made his heart ache. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in the entryway. It could’ve been a few minutes. It could’ve been a whole hour. But the comfort his embrace brought you was welcome. It calmed you down considerably. 

After a while, you finally pulled back, lifting your face from his now tear-soaked shirt. His expression was soft, his lashes fluttering as he lifted his hand to dry what was left of your tears. 

“Somebody make you cry?” He asked. He’d give them what-for if they had. 

“I-it’s just…oh, it’s everything,” you whimpered. “Work sucked today, I felt like I was in fuckin’ purgatory. I don’t…I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Rhett sighed softly. Seeing you in pain made him feel so powerless. While he knew that he was providing you comfort, he still wished he could take all the hurt away. You didn’t deserve any of it. “I’m sorry.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. 

And then, “Let me take care of ya. ‘ve already got dinner started. How does a bath sound? I’ll get ya set up and then finish dinner so you can eat.”

“Good,” you whispered, as if you couldn’t find the strength to speak louder.

With a nod, Rhett set to work. “C’mon, let’s get you out of all these layers.”

He began carefully undoing your coat, which he removed from your body and promptly hung on the little coat rack by the door. Then he pulled your hat off your head and placed it on the pegboard that also housed different sets of keys. 

He guided you to sit down on the bench near the shoe organizer, and there, he knelt before you, unlacing your boots. You watched him so tenderly, so reverently, care for you, and again, you felt yourself welling up with tears. 

You hadn’t retained much from the time you’d spent growing up in church, aside from some trauma and a distaste for religion. But one Bible verse in particular popped into your head as you watched your husband remove your shoes. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: But a faithful man who can find?

Rhett never asked for anything. He never bragged about himself or his accomplishments. He was good and kind. A little rough around the edges, but he treated you like royalty, and respected you deeply. He was faithful to you, and to the homestead you had built together. He didn’t wander. He didn’t seek intimacy in the arms of another. He was anchored to you, for better or worse. 

And now he was guiding you up the stairs and to the bedroom, his arm secure around your waist, part of him always touching you. Grounding you. He guided you to sit on the bed, leaving a kiss against the top of your head before he sauntered over to the dresser to choose some pajamas for you. 

You were in a haze, brought on by the rush of emotions you had experienced. Sleepy from crying, frazzled from your stress. You were lucky that Rhett was there to help you, because you felt so pathetic and incapable of caring for yourself in this state. You could manage alone if you had to, but you didn’t have to. As long as your husband was around, you’d never have to worry about being alone. 

“You want to wear these, or these?” He asked, holding up a set of Christmas pajamas that were your own, and a pair of sweatpants and one of his Henleys. 

Of course, you chose the sweats and his shirt, because you wanted to be entirely surrounded by everything that was him. 

With your pajamas picked out, he guided you to the bathroom, where he had you sit upon the closed toilet seat while he began filling the tub, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. In the process, he grabbed the little space heater you kept in the bedroom, and he set it up in the corner of the bathroom, to warm up the cold tiles so you wouldn’t catch a chill. 

You smiled fondly at his attentiveness. “I love you,” you spoke. 

He paused, his face softening, his eyes fluttering. “And I love you, pun’kin.” He kissed the top of your head before he motioned for you to stand. There, he began undressing you, and you allowed him to, because you didn’t have the energy to do it yourself. 

After the bath was filled, and the bubbles were in, he guided you into the water. “I’m gonna’ go finish makin’ us dinner, alright?”

But you frowned at that. “No, wan’ you to get in with me.”

“And I’d love to get in with ya, but you haven’t eaten anything since your lunch break, right?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Since 11:30 actually.”

“Uh-huh, exactly. That’s why I’m feedin’ you dinner. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ my baby starve.” Another kiss was left upon your head. “Just relax and enjoy your bath. I’ll be back in a few to help ya get dressed. Then we can eat.”

That piqued your interest. “Can we watch a holiday movie?” You asked. 

He hummed, a twinkle in his eye. “‘course we can, sweet thing.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke up. “Hey, Rhett?”

In the doorway, he turned. “Hm?”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me.”

He shook his head. “That ain’t somethin’ you need to thank me for. Carin’ for you is my job, and I’m always gonna do it.”

What a man he was. Once he left the room, you found yourself reflecting upon how blessed you were to have him. When you’d first met him, he was a broken man with so much love to give, but no one to bestow it upon, except for his niece. But she wasn’t his child, so he found himself holding back, because even though he didn’t agree with the way his brother parented her, he didn’t want to overstep. 

Of course, he would’ve made a better father to Amy than Perry ever could. But that was neither here nor there. Now, Rhett barely spoke to his brother. For his own well-being, he’d cut ties with Royal and Perry. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he was better now because of it. 

There were behaviors he’d worked hard to unlearn after he entered into a relationship with you. Trouble communicating and processing his emotions was the most glaring issue. Those first few years together were no picnic. You had argued often. All you asked for was for him to be open and honest with you. He bucked against it like an untamed horse. The thought of being exposed and vulnerable in that way terrified him. 

He didn’t want you to see the wounded, ugly parts of him. Didn’t want you to see him cry, because his father had drilled into his head that showing emotion was feminine. Men don’t cry, he’d tell his son. It was simply because he didn’t want to deal with Rhett’s emotional nature. 

Rhett, who had always been a sensitive soul, learned to hide that sensitivity early on. Don’t cry, for fear of being told “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

In recent years, since Amy was born, Royal had softened a bit. But he was still just as hard on his youngest son. Rhett was the workhorse. The dependable one. The one who would grit his teeth and get the job done without complaining. 

And God forbid if he tried to complain. Royal wasn’t one for physical violence, it just wasn’t in his nature. But when Rhett was seventeen years old, he’d gotten fed up with the verbal lashing from his father. It was the first time he’d really tried to stand up for himself and tell Royal to shove it, in not-so-delicate terms. But it hadn’t ended well. Royal had backhanded Rhett so hard he saw stars, and ended up with a bloody lip. 

The man had felt bad about his reaction, but the thing about Royal Abbott was, he didn’t apologize. It wasn’t in his nature. Rhett couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever heard ‘I’m sorry’ come out of his father’s mouth. 

That moment was what made Rhett realize he couldn’t stay in such a toxic environment. He longed to leave the confines of the Abbott Ranch behind and pave his own way. But that was easier said than done. A sense of responsibility to his family kept him chained down to Wabang. He seemed to be destined to spend the rest of his days as a bull rider, living in his father’s shadow, busting his ass and receiving nothing in return. 

And then he met you. 

You made him believe there was more to life. You made him believe he could chase his dreams and achieve them. You made him believe in himself. 

He had learned so much from you. And through you, he had found freedom. You were the first person, aside from Amy, who’d ever truly believed in him. And here he’d spend the better part of ten years pining after a girl named Maria, who had never and would never return his affection 

He remembered being so glad when she returned to town after being at college for the last few years. He thought maybe things would be different. Maybe she would see him for who he was and finally reciprocate his feelings. 

But all she’d done was string him along and make him feel like shit for never leaving Wabang. In the end, she lost any interest she might’ve had in Rhett, leaving him dejected. 

And then you showed up. You were new in town. Your grandparents had just bought a new house in Florida, but still had yet to successfully sell their ranch. While they transitioned to a new house in a new state, they asked you if you would be willing to stay at their place until it sold. Dissatisfied with your current job and living situation, you agreed. 

Soon, you found yourself in an unfamiliar town in Wyoming, the last place you ever thought you’d be. You got a job through Amelia Elementary School, teaching piano. One of your students was Amy Abbott, and this was how you met her uncle, Rhett. 

You should have known it from the second you saw him. He appeared rough and tumble, but when he introduced himself to you, his eyes, bright and blue, were soft, and you swore you saw the hint of a blush in the apples of his cheeks. 

That was what did you in. There was a softness to him that tugged on your heartstrings. You had Amy twice a week for lessons. Rhett picked her up each time, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him. 

Over the course of the next few months, he swallowed his fear of rejection and worked up the courage to ask you to go for coffee. Rhett wasn’t a fan of the fancy lattes and whatnot that Two Horns Coffee sold in downtown Wabang, but he’d noticed you often had a coffee cup from the place in hand, and he wanted to take you somewhere you liked. 

That was how he found himself seated in a quaint little cafe that totally wasn’t his style, in favor of getting to know you. That day, you talked for hours, until the coffee shop employees were shooing you out because it was closing time. And after that, you walked through the town and continued talking. 

Rhett wasn’t loud or boisterous or pompous. He was quiet and gentle. He was shy, which surprised you. He seemed so confident, but really, it was all a front. Everyone perceived him a certain way. He was the promiscuous bull rider with a new buckle bunny in his bed every night. 

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He admitted to you that he hadn’t slept with anyone since Maria a few months ago, and before her, the last time anyone had been in his bed was the night of his 21st birthday. Some girl he barely knew. 

His family’s perception of his promiscuity stemmed from that instance, where Royal had caught the girl sneaking off early in the morning. Since then, Rhett hadn’t been able to live it down. In the minds of his family, he was the man-whoring problem child. 

Rhett never bothered to correct them, because what was the use?

But when you looked at him, you saw him. The real him. Shy and slightly awkward. Fidgety, unable to sit still. Kind and loving. Determined. 

He liked that. He felt seen and heard with you. He never felt like a burden. And because of this, he found himself drawn to you more and more. Soon enough, a romance blossomed between you. While it had its ups and downs, there was no doubt in each other’s minds that this was it. You were bonded for the rest of your lives. 

Your wedding came not long after. An intimate occasion with your closest friends and family. A beautiful ceremony in the mountains. After that, you moved into the home you’d been staying in since you moved to Wabang. As it turned out, your grandparents’ little ranch never sold, which left you and Rhett to move into it. 

You offered to pay in full for it, but your grandparents wouldn’t hear of it, insisting it was your wedding gift. The house did, however, need a lot of renovations, and that was where a lot of your money went. 

Since then, you had turned the house into everything you’d always dreamed of, and you’d started a wholesome life within its walls. 

Here Rhett was, thinking he needed to leave Wabang. But in reality, it wasn’t his hometown that he needed to distance himself from. Miraculously, his mental well-being increased tenfold when he escaped from beneath Royal’s thumb and started living his own life. 

And that was the thing of it, too. Rhett had a purpose here, on your little ranch. He could cultivate that intrinsic need to take care of things. He could take care of the land. He could take care of the animals. The only animals you had were your horse, Marabel, and Rhett’s horse, Esmeralda. But he had hopes of one day opening a horse sanctuary on your land. 

That was his dream. Not professional bull riding, like he’d spent so long trying to convince himself of. He loved horses, and wanted to do everything he could to help the animals that had always meant so much to him. 

He was working toward making that dream a reality. And someday soon, it would be. 

It was amazing to see the difference in him, since he’d started chasing after what he loved. He was no longer a man chained down to a life he didn’t want. He’d found a sense of freedom, and now, he was happier than he’d ever been. 

Yes, he had you to thank for it. But really, the determination to live a better life came from him. You were simply the one that lit the fire beneath him. Now he was a roaring flame, burning brighter than the sun. 

You were so proud of how far he’d come. And he was proud of himself, too. He had every right to be. 

He’d taken his ranch expertise and found a job at a horse ranch just outside of town. This allowed him to continuously be around the animals that he loved, while also making money. The owner was quite well off, and was paying Rhett handsomely. 

For the first time in his life, he was making a steady income, and he could provide for not only himself, but for you as well. You had your own job, and could hold your own, of course. But Rhett liked knowing he could take care of you. And you appreciated it. Coming from a family who’d never uttered so much as a thank you for all he did, it was refreshing to have someone express their unending gratitude for his care. 

Something as simple as making you grilled cheese for dinner made his heart soar, because after a difficult day, you were depending on him to care and provide for you. And he’d be damned if he was going to let you fend for yourself.

Watching you struggle had been hard for him. He hated seeing you in such a state of unrest. The changing of the seasons didn’t help, either. You were always hit with a bad wave of seasonal depression as soon as the clocks fell back. The early darkness made you sad. 

So Rhett did all he could to help you bear that burden. And tonight, he was determined to help you feel better. While you enjoyed your bath, he set to work finishing up dinner preparations. A little while later, with sandwiches at the ready and the living room set up with blankets and pillows, he rejoined you in the bathroom. 

“Hey, pun’kin. Y’ready?” He asked. 

You smiled sleepily at him. “Mhm.” 

So, he began the process of helping you out of the tub. He toweled you off, and then reverently smoothed your favorite lotion onto your skin. You were in a state of bliss as his large, but gentle, hands traveled over your body. He aided you in changing into your pajamas, and then he pulled a pair of cozy socks onto your feet. 

“C’mon now, let’s go eat ‘fore it gets cold.”

With that, he bent to shut off the space heater before he guided you out of the bathroom and down the stairs. When you walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but smile. He’d spread multiple blankets and pillows across the couch, creating a soft, cozy resting place. The fireplace was roaring, the low lights were on, and when you glanced at the window, you saw the snow was now falling in white sheets, making you feel as if you were inside a snow globe.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you whispered. 

Rhett beamed. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll get ya a drink. What do you want? Coke Zero? Some sweet tea?”

“Tea, please!” You quickly replied. One of the things Rhett could make besides grilled cheese was a mean sweet tea. Not too sweet, with just enough tea flavor that it wasn’t overpowering. It was your favorite. 

“Comin’ right up, chickadee.”

As you settled into the soft blankets on the couch, Rhett hurried to grab drinks for both of you. Soon, he was rejoining you, presenting you with a glass of tea, complete with a straw. You thanked him, and he smiled before he set about selecting a holiday movie. The 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street was his choice, and soon, you were cuddled up together as the opening credits rolled, enjoying your dinner of grilled cheese. 

And just for a little while, things didn’t seem so bad. The harsh reality of life was dulled if only for a time, softened by the sweet delicateness of this moment shared between you. 

After you finished your food, you curled into Rhett’s side, your head on his shoulder. Content, he rested his cheek atop your head. You knew it was inevitable that he’d fall asleep. With a full tummy, and a cozy couch beneath him, he was sure to doze off. Rhett liked to stay busy, so during moments when he wasn’t, such as sitting down to watch a movie, he would almost always fall asleep. Years of being a workin’ man will do that to a body. 

He expected you to fall asleep, too. You’d had such a difficult day, and he was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night asleep on the couch with you. 

However, you were still wide awake as the movie neared the ending. Instead of drowsiness, you were filled with immense gratefulness. Rhett had come home from a long day of working in the cold, and had prepared you dinner and ran you a bath, simply because you’d had a bad day. He didn’t have to do such things, but he wanted to. 

He didn’t expect you to turn cartwheels and thank him in some dramatic way, but as you lay curled against him, you were struck with an idea. Albeit a mischievous one. 

You shifted, moving to glance at him. He was barely awake, his big, round eyes droopy. But then you began to nuzzle against him, kissing his jaw lightly. At first, he didn’t think anything of it. But then, one of your hands worked its way beneath the hem of his shirt, rubbing at the skin there. 

“Your hands are wanderin’,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“I know,” you replied with a smile. 

“What’re you doin’, girl?” He continued as your hand went toward his chest. 

“Can’t I touch my man?”

“Sure y’can. But with you there’s always some ulterior motive. Little tease.”

He let out the softest of surprised squeaks when you tweaked his nipples, feeling them harden beneath your touch. “Not teasing. Just exploring.” Your lips attached to his jaw again, where you kissed and nipped at the scruffy skin. 

He began to melt beneath you, always a sucker for your loving touch. Your wandering hand trailed down his abdomen, and stopped just above the waistband of his plaid lounge pants. 

“Darlin’…” he warned, as your fingers swirled through the light dusting of hair that led down into his pants. 

“What?” Deft fingers traveled beneath the band of elastic. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which pleased you greatly, and gave you easy access. You brushed against the base of his cock, gripping onto it purposefully. He sucked in a breath, his hips jolting.

“Just wanted to thank you,” you hummed against his neck. “Always take such good care of me. Thought I’d take care of you.” 

You stroked him once. Twice. Palm running over silky skin. You longed to feel him grow in your hand. It was so erotic to you. Holding that thick, beautiful cock of his while it swelled to full hardness. 

“Wanna see it,” you spoke again. 

Rhett lifted his hips off the couch and haphazardly pushed his pants down toward his thighs. That was all you needed. His lower half was exposed, just enough for you to free him from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you languidly ran your hand up and down, resting your head on his chest as you watched him harden. 

God, you wanted to worship him. So that was what you did. 

You turned, moving to trail kisses down his smooth chest, stopping to leave a kiss against the raised scar that sat upon his shoulder. An unfortunate accident with a bull some years back. 

Then you went lower, lower, lower. Hands exploring, lips traveling. Soon, you were kneeling between his strong thighs, gazing up at him. You tugged his pants the rest of the way down, discarding them entirely so you could have uninhibited access. 

“S’pretty,” you hummed, as you admired him. It took him a moment to realize you were talking about his cock. His cheeks turned a shade of pink. But his bashfulness was soon forgotten when you leaned forward and began kissing along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, offering tentative kitten licks as you went. 

He watched as you rubbed your cheek against him, nuzzling him as you kissed at his sensitive balls. You wanted to take a moment to truly appreciate what was before you. Standing tall and proud, something Rhett had every right to boast about if he wanted. 

But he didn’t. And that was where you came in, talking him up because you loved the way it rendered him speechless and blushing. 

“So big, I don’t know how it even fits inside me,” you mused. And it was the truth. But he was careful when he fucked you, never wanting to hurt you. Of course, that didn’t mean he was gentle. He had his gentle moments when you needed them, but he also had his moments where he fucked you within an inch of your life. You loved the balance. And you loved that he was mindful of what your body could handle. He’d never push you past your limits. Getting you to safeword was not the end goal. He wanted you to be able to enjoy intense scenes, without being pushed too far to the point where it took you out of the moment. 

Together, you had built a steady trust in each other, with boundaries put in place. Even in the midst of those scenes, you felt safe with Rhett. Protected. Even in the throes of intense passion, he was still looking out for you. 

But sometimes, something simple was all you needed. Like now, for instance. Lazily mouthing at his dick, relishing in the sharp saltiness on your tongue, and the deep muskiness that could only be described as Rhett. There was something so manly about it, and it sent a needy ache thrumming through your core. 

Meanwhile, Rhett was blissed out above you, torn between admiring you between his legs, and letting his head fall back against the couch as he relished in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. Sinful and heavenly all at once. 

After spending time kissing and licking at him, you finally moved to focus on his tip, blushed and glimmering in the low light. Eyes flickering up to meet his hooded gaze, you parted your lips and very slowly began to swirl your tongue around him. Making a show of it, you focused your attention on the slit, tongue flicking back and forth until you were rewarded with a bead of precum, which you eagerly lapped up. 

“Oh, oh darlin’,” he breathed, hands gripping at the blankets beneath him. “You an’ that mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, closing your lips around the tip and suckling softly before you began inching your way down. Being able to deep-throat him had taken practice. You remembered the way he reacted when you first took all of him. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been using a toy that was roughly the same size as him, training your throat to be able to take him. 

Now you could take him like a champ, and it drove him wild. 

Slowly, slowly, you took more of him, relaxing your throat, until your nose was pressed against the gathering of dark hair around the base. He kept himself neatly groomed, but left just enough behind because he knew how much you loved it. 

“‘at’s it, atta girl,” he graveled, fighting the urge to place his hand atop your head and hold you in place. But he would soon quickly lose that air of dominance to you.

You swallowed around him, which stole the air from his lungs, before you pulled back, kissing at the tip, wet with your spit. As you took a moment to catch your breath, you brought a hand up to toy with his heavy balls. 

“Ha!” He gasped, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Sensitive?” You asked. 

“Uh-huh,” he answered. “Ain’t had ‘em played with in a while.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, mouth still against the soft skin of his cock. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I? Haven’t played with these big sensitive balls. Haven’t milked the cum out of them in so long.”

“F-fuck!” You’d taken him all the way to the hilt again without warning. 

It was true. It had been a while. It had been a crazy few weeks for both of you, and you hadn’t had time to really enjoy each other in the way that you wanted. A few quickies here and there hadn’t satisfied that burning desire you held for one another. 

Rhett didn’t like getting off without you. Sometimes, he would, if he was ever out of town or vice versa. But he much preferred being with you. He craved you. Fantasized about you. Wanted only you. His hand didn’t cut it. Your mouth and pussy were what he wanted. 

And oh, how good your mouth was. You knew exactly how to pleasure him. Knew he loved when you swirled your tongue against the underside of his tip, where he was most sensitive. Knew he couldn’t get enough of your hands on his balls while you took him down your throat. Knew he loved when you rubbed your face all over his dick. 

When you pulled your mouth off of him again, you rubbed the tip all over your lips, kissing softly, humming against him. Then you went back to tonguing the underside, and he gasped sharply, hips jolting. 

You took that opportunity to close your mouth around him and let him slide naturally to the back of your throat again. You used your other hand to massage down his shaft as you pulled back up, never leaving him without a moment of stimulation. 

“Y’ keep doin’ that and I won’t last,” he warned. 

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a smile. 

He moaned softly, letting his head fall back as you swallowed around him. This time, you stayed down longer, gulping as you did, and the sound drove him wild. You were drooling all over him, pulling out all the stops to bring him to the edge. 

And it was working. He was so pent up, and you both knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d begun to tremble, his thighs shaking at either side of your head. His hands clenched and unclenched around the blankets he held. His hips had begun to move of their own volition. 

“You’re squirming,” you teased. 

“Ca-can’t help it,” he stammered. “Your—fuck—your mouth is so g— ah!”

He couldn’t even get the words out. You kept pressing your tongue against that damn spot, knowing it would get him all worked up. He was losing his coherence the longer it went on. Mumbled half phrases, with gasps and whines mixed in. It was so easy to work him up like this. He was always so responsive. 

Interestingly enough, he hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, he’d been more reserved. He was shy about the sounds he made. Ashamed of his whines and whimpers. He was holding back, and you could tell. So, little by little, you encouraged him to be more vocal. 

“Wanna hear you. Wanna know it feels good for you,” you’d told him, and he hadn’t really thought of it that way. As much as he loved hearing you and knowing he was making you feel good, he realized you also wanted the same thing from him. 

It took him a little while to feel confident enough to freely make those sounds of pleasure, but once he finally got past that hurdle, you couldn’t shut him up if you tried. Not that you wanted to, either. 

There was something about this man of few words being unable to remain silent that really got to you. You’d expected him to be all gravelly grunts and groans. And he was. But he whimpered, too. A lot. Especially when you got him feeling really good. 

He was so easy to rile up. Whether he was assuming the dominant or submissive role, or just simply making love to you with no kinky games involved. Get him close to orgasm, and sounds would pour from his throat uncontrollably. 

Like now, for instance. He was so beautiful this way. His whole body trembling, his eyes rolling back, his mouth open to let out unsteady gasps. You loved how you could reduce him to such a state. This strong, steady man, who’d just so tenderly taken care of you, was now trying to hold it together so he wouldn’t come too soon. 

But you wanted it. “Nuh-uh, don’t you hold back,” you told him. 

He took a shuddering breath. “Honey…”

“C’mon,” you coaxed, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking quickly. “Know you wanna come in my mouth, wanna watch me swallow all of it.”

And oh, he did. One thing about Rhett was that he loved watching you take his cum. Whether it be smeared across your pretty face, painted onto your chest, dripping out of your pussy, or in your mouth. 

Right now, you wanted it in your mouth. And you were determined to get it. Keeping your tongue right against his tip, you tightened your grip on him only slightly, moving your hand with purpose. Your other hand was at his balls again, massaging in time with the hand on his shaft. 

His eyes swam with unshed tears, and he gritted his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose. Warmth was beginning to crackle to life at the base of his spine, as if you’d just lit a fuse. 

You pulled out all the stops, taking him to the hilt again before you resumed that pleasurable torture against his tip. Alternating back and forth, bringing him closer and closer and closer to the edge, watching through hooded eyes as he lost himself, chest heaving, body trembling. 

“C-close,” he gasped. 

“Come down my throat,” you urged, before you placed his cock against your tongue, stroking hard and fast as you brought him toward his end. 

Rhett gazed down at you, and you caught his eye, your face pleading as you eagerly awaited his load. He could barely take the sight, and he threw his head back, groaning deeply. “F-fuck, darlin’, I’m—”

And then he whined. Keening high in his chest, his hips shunted forward. You could feel him pulse beneath your touch, and in an instant, you closed your mouth around him, creating a seal so that nothing would escape. You took all he had to give, swallowing every last drop of his seed like the good girl you were, all while he gasped and whined and softly sobbed above you. 

As he came down, he twitched in your mouth, the sensitivity mounting. He hissed as you pulled off his cock, sucking any remnants of cum from his skin before you released the softening shaft. You pressed a gently kiss to the tip before you innocently looked up at him.

Breathlessly, he swore. “Get up here,” he murmured, and you smiled, climbing up into his lap. He searched for your lips, and you kissed him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Mm, nearly sucked m’ soul outta me,” he teased.

“That was the idea,” you said with a giggle. 

He leaned in to kiss you again. His eyes were droopy, sleepiness evident in his features. “Should return the favor,” he continued when he broke the kiss, but you shook your head. 

“Uh-uh, that was my way of thanking you for taking care of me. We’re even.”

“But I wan’...” he paused to yawn, “wan’ make you feel good, too.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised. “For now, let’s just rest.” Another kiss was pressed to his lips before you reluctantly slid off him to retrieve his pants from the floor. You had just enough time to pull them onto his body before he had fallen asleep.

Lovingly, you brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead before you settled down beside him, pulling the blanket over you both. “I love you, cowboy,” you whispered, as you nestled yourself against his side. How grateful you were for him. This good and kind man was all yours. You silently thanked the universe for giving him to you.

And sure enough, the next morning, you woke to his head between your thighs, sending you to a place of absolute, unadulterated bliss. 

Yes, you were thankful for him indeed. 

-

taglist:

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @peachystenbrough @attapullman @auroralightsthesky @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted @callsign-magnolia @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @nobody7102 @milesmillergf @idontcare-11 @theliterarybeldam @yanna-banana @floydsglasses @whisperofsong @1-800-floyd @floydsmuse @cruel-winter-nights @goldenseresinretriever @keep-on-burnin @happyrebelruins @bamfkurt @swiftsgirlfriend @virgo-wonder @seitmai-too @bradshawsbaby @bradshawsbitch

[sebsxphia]

Okay but like sitting on rhetts lap he's in nothing but his boxers and cowboy hat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

yee haw cowboy! 🤠

he’s just had a very successful run at the rodeo and he’s finally got his winning prize right where he wants you. you laugh when he tells you this corny one liner, but you wouldn’t have your winning cowboy any other way. especially when he’s striped down to nothing but his boxers. after the evening, there were a couple of beers and shots of tequila at the bar, but nothing too heavy. it’s enough to make you both like giggly teenagers again and as you patch up any fresh grazes, and soothe any blooming bruises, rhett’s still wearing his cowboy hat on his head.

when you finish up tending to your rough and tough cowboy, he pulls you up to his lap with a needy, “c’ere, little darlin’.” he’s got you straddling his bare thighs and he’s kissing over your neck, with his teeth biting at your earlobe. “mm, baby. y’ looked s’ good tonight. y’ do that just for me, hm? dress up all pretty f’ daddy? you’re s’ sweet to me, you’re my diamond girl, my good luck charm. i love you, darlin’.”

sooner than you know it, his cowboy hat is placed on your head and he’s giving your thighs a squeeze. “c’mon, pretty girl. ride the winnin’ cowboy.”

hehe 🤭 i love this thot so much my dear anon! thank you so much for this! 💌