Sweet Sunday
Pairing: Rhett Abbott x fem!reader
Word count: 2.6k
Summary: Rhett meets you at a farmers market and is INSTANTLY smitten
Warnings: absolutely nothing, super fluffy
Author’s note: dear Rhett fam, i am so sorry that i haven't written for this guy in so long, but here is something to make up for it, so hope you like it <3 divider by @8bbitbunni
Rhett Abbott isn’t the kind of man who gets distracted.
His life doesn’t allow for it. It’s early mornings, long days, and work that never really ends. He notices things that matter, weather shifts, the way a horse moves before it turns unpredictable, the sound of something going wrong before anyone else catches it.
He doesn’t notice strangers.
Not like this.
It’s a Sunday afternoon, the kind where the heat settles slow and golden over everything. The market hums quietly, people drifting between stalls, the air thick with citrus and sugar and dust. Rhett has already bought what he came for. He should be heading back to the truck.
Instead, he stops.
Because you’re standing across the way.
At first, he doesn’t even realize why he’s looking. There’s just something about you that pulls his attention without asking for it. You’re holding a drink, something bright and sparkling, and the sunlight catches in your hair in a way that makes the whole scene feel softer somehow.
You don’t stand out in a loud way. You’re not trying to be noticed.
But somehow, you are.
Rhett shifts his weight, frowning slightly like he’s trying to figure something out. He’s seen pretty before. That’s not new. But this isn’t just that. There’s something warm about you, something easy, like being near you would feel like stepping into sunlight after a long day.
He swears he can almost smell something sweet on the air. Something like wildflowers.
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
This is ridiculous.
He doesn’t know you. Doesn’t know your name. Doesn’t know anything about you.
But he knows one thing with uncomfortable clarity: if he walks away right now, he’s going to think about you for the rest of the day.
Maybe longer.
And that bothers him more than anything.
So he pushes off the fence.
Rhett doesn’t rush. He never does. But there’s something more deliberate in the way he walks now, like every step is chosen. Like he’s already decided something, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.
You don’t notice him at first, which gives him just enough time to realize he has no plan. No line, no practiced charm. Just this quiet certainty that he needs to be standing closer to you.
“Same thing she’s having,” he says to the vendor.
You turn at that, your eyes meeting his.
For a moment, everything else fades a little.
You blink, clearly caught off guard. “Oh hi, uh, okay. It’s, uh, it’s good.”
Your voice is softer than he expected.
Rhett nods once. “Figured.”
He takes the drink, but his attention doesn’t leave you. You notice, of course you do, and your fingers tighten slightly around your cup.
Flustered.
Rhett feels something settle low in his chest.
He takes a sip. It’s sweet and sharp and cold, but he barely registers it.
“You from around here?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No. Just visiting.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You study him now, curiosity replacing your initial surprise. “What about you?”
“I’m from here.”
“That obvious?”
“A little.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, just slightly. “Guess I ain’t tryin’ to hide it.”
You smile at that, and something about it makes the air feel warmer.
You take another sip of your drink, and Rhett catches himself watching the way your lips brush the glass before forcing his attention back to your eyes.
“You picked good,” he says.
You smile again, a little more confident this time. “Told you.”
He tilts his head slightly. “You always this easy to trust?”
That throws you off. You blink, then let out a small laugh. “You don’t even know me.”
“Don’t need to.”
The words land heavier than they should.
You shift your weight, suddenly more aware of how close he’s standing, of how steady his gaze is.
“That’s…kind of bold,” you say.
“Yeah.”
No apology. No hesitation.
Just truth.
You look away first, smiling to yourself like you can’t quite help it, and Rhett feels something warm settle in his chest.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
You tell him, and he repeats it quietly, like he’s committing it to memory.
“Rhett,” he says.
“I figured,” you reply.
That earns you a small, surprised look from him. “That so?”
“You seem like a Rhett.”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “Don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“Good,” you say quickly, then soften. “I think.”
He studies you for a moment, longer this time, and the longer he looks, the more certain he feels.
“You know,” he says slowly, “I almost walked away.”
You glance at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What changed your mind?”
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Didn’t think I’d forgive myself if I did.”
Your breath catches.
You laugh softly, but it comes out a little unsteady. “You say things like that to everyone?”
“No.”
“Just strangers?”
“Just you.”
That does it.
Your cheeks warm, and you look down at your drink again, smiling despite yourself.
“You’re kind of unfair,” you murmur.
“Unfair?”
“You make it hard not to like you.”
Something shifts in him at that, something deeper, more grounded.
“Good,” he says quietly.
A breeze moves through, warm and slow. You tuck your hair behind your ear, still holding your drink like it’s anchoring you.
Rhett glances at the nearby flowers and, without thinking too hard about it, reaches over and grabs a small bundle.
You blink when he hands them to you. “Rhett—”
“Thought they suited you.”
You stare at them, then at him, clearly caught between disbelief and something softer. “You can’t just do that.”
“I just did.”
You laugh, a little overwhelmed. “You don’t even know me.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Feels like I do.”
That shouldn’t make your chest tighten, but it does.
“Why?” you ask quietly.
He looks at you, really looks this time, and when he speaks, his voice is steady.
“Didn’t know your name. Didn’t know anything about you. Still don’t, really.”
He steps just a little closer.
“But I knew I wanted to.”
Silence settles between you, not empty, just full of something neither of you can quite name yet.
“You’re dangerous,” you whisper.
His mouth twitches. “Don’t think that’s new.”
You shake your head. “Not like that.”
He waits.
“You make it feel easy,” you admit. “Like I’ve known you longer than I have.”
That lands somewhere deep in him.
“Yeah,” he says. “Feels like that for me too.”
The sun dips lower, the air softening around you, but neither of you moves.
“I should go,” you say eventually.
“Yeah,” he replies.
Neither of you does.
“Can I see you again?” he asks.
You don’t hesitate this time. “Yeah.”
Relief settles into something warmer in his chest.
“Good,” he says.
Then, quieter, “’Cause I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”
Your breath hitches, your smile softening in a way that feels like an answer all on its own.
And just like that, you know.
You don’t know everything about him.
Don’t know where this goes.
But you do know this…
From the moment he walked up to you, from the moment he looked at you like you were something worth stopping for.
You never really stood a chance.
So, you don’t leave right away.
You said you should. He agreed. That should’ve been the end of it.
But neither of you moves.
The world keeps going around you, voices, footsteps, someone laughing somewhere behind you, but it all feels distant now, like it’s happening a little too far away to matter.
Rhett is still standing close enough that you can feel the heat of him. Not touching. Not quite. But close enough that it makes your skin feel too aware, like every inch of space between you is something fragile.
You tighten your grip slightly on the flowers he gave you, like they’re the only thing keeping you steady.
“I really do have to go,” you say, softer this time.
“Yeah,” he says again.
Still not moving.
Your eyes flick up to his, and that’s your first mistake.
Because he’s already looking at you.
Not in a casual way. Not in the way people usually look at each other when they’re about to say goodbye.
He looks like he’s trying to memorize you.
Your breath catches.
“You always do that?” you ask, your voice just a little unsteady.
“Do what?”
“Look at people like that.”
Rhett tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering the question. “No.”
Your heart stumbles again. “No?”
“Just you.”
God.
You laugh, but it comes out quieter than you meant it to, your gaze dropping again. “You really don’t make this easy, do you?”
“Wasn’t tryin’ to.”
“That’s the problem.”
There’s a small pause, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels like something stretching between you, something thin and delicate and about to snap if either of you moves too fast.
You should go.
You know you should.
But instead, you shift your weight just slightly closer.
Rhett notices.
Of course he does.
Something changes in his expression, not softer, not exactly, but more certain. Like whatever hesitation he might’ve had before is gone now.
“You nervous?” he asks, low.
You let out a breath. “A little.”
“Why?”
You glance up at him again, caught. “You know why.”
He doesn’t smile.
But there’s something warm in his eyes now. Something that makes your stomach twist in the best, most terrifying way.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do.”
Another pause.
The kind that feels like standing at the edge of something.
You don’t even realize you’ve stopped fidgeting until you notice your hands are still. Your shoulders are still. Everything is focused on him.
On the way he’s looking at you.
On the way he hasn’t stepped back.
“Rhett,” you start, but you don’t know what you’re going to say.
His name just…comes out.
He leans in slightly.
Not enough to touch.
Just enough that you feel it.
That small shift.
That closing of space.
Your breath catches again.
“If I kiss you,” he says, voice low and steady, “you gonna regret it?”
Your heart is racing now. Fast enough that you’re sure he can hear it.
You shake your head, barely. “No.”
He studies your face for a second, like he’s making sure you mean it.
Like he won’t do this unless you do.
“I don’t rush things,” he adds quietly.
“I can tell.”
“But this—” his gaze flicks to your lips, then back to your eyes, “—don’t feel like rushin’.”
It doesn’t.
That’s the terrifying part.
It feels like something that’s already been building, even if it’s only been an hour.
“Okay,” you whisper.
That’s all it takes.
Rhett closes the distance slowly, like he’s giving you time to pull away.
You don’t.
Your fingers tighten slightly around the flowers, your breath shallow as he gets closer, closer…
And then he kisses you.
It’s not rushed.
Not messy.
It’s careful at first, like he’s testing something fragile. His hand comes up, not grabbing, not pulling, just resting lightly at your jaw, steady and grounding all at once.
Your brain goes completely quiet.
All the nerves, all the thoughts, all the what is happening, gone.
It just feels warm.
And soft.
And right.
You lean into it before you even realize you’re doing it.
That’s when something shifts.
The kiss deepens, not suddenly and not overwhelming, but enough that it sends a slow, dizzy warmth all the way through you. His thumb brushes lightly along your cheek, and you swear your knees almost give out.
You make a small sound—barely there.
Rhett feels it.
You know he does.
Because his grip tightens just slightly, just enough to steady you, just enough to tell you he’s paying attention to every little reaction.
When he pulls back, it’s slow.
Reluctant.
Like he’s not entirely convinced he should.
Your forehead almost brushes his.
You’re both breathing a little heavier now.
Your eyes are still closed for half a second longer before you open them—
And he’s right there.
Still looking at you like that.
Like he’s already gone.
“Oh God,” you breathe.
He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s something softer under it now. Something almost surprised.
“Yeah,” he says.
You blink, trying to gather your thoughts, but they’re not really cooperating. “That…”
“Yeah.”
You laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “You’re really dangerous.”
He tilts his head slightly. “You keep sayin’ that.”
“Because you are.”
“Still here, though.”
That makes you smile.
“Yeah,” you admit. “Still here.”
There’s a quiet beat between you.
Then he says, softer this time, “You always get like this with people you just met?”
You let out a small breath, your fingers tightening slightly where they rest against his arm.
Because the honest answer is—
No.
Not even close.
You shake your head, a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugging at your lips. “No.”
His gaze doesn’t leave yours. “No?”
“No,” you say again, a little more steady now. “This is a…new move, for me.”
Something shifts in his expression at that. Not surprise, exactly, more like recognition.
Like he feels it too.
“Alright,” he murmurs.
And the way he says it, low, certain, makes your chest tighten just a little more.
You see it in the way his expression shifts, something deeper settling in his eyes.
Something real.
His hand hasn’t left your face.
You don’t want it to.
“Me neither,” he murmurs.
This time, when he kisses you again, it’s not careful.
It’s still gentle, but there’s something more certain in it now. Less testing. More knowing.
Your free hand comes up without thinking, brushing against his arm, then settling there like it belongs.
And for a second…
Everything feels easy.
Like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
Like you’ve been building toward this moment without even realizing it.
When you finally pull back again, it’s because you have to.
Because breathing is important.
Because your head is spinning just a little.
You smile at him, softer now. Less flustered, but not entirely steady.
“Okay,” you say quietly. “Now I really have to go.”
“Yeah,” he says.
Still not moving.
You laugh. “You’re not making this easier.”
“Don’t want to.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Still here,” he reminds you.
You shake your head, smiling, then take a small step back.
It feels…strange.
Like pulling away from something warm.
But not wrong.
Not really.
“Call me,” you say.
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
You hesitate for just a second longer.
Then you lean in, quick, before you can overthink it, and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Rhett stills.
Completely.
You pull back, a little shy now. “Just in case you forget.”
“I won’t.”
“I know,” you say softly.
And then, this time…
You actually walk away.
Rhett watches you go.
Doesn’t move.
Doesn’t look away.
Not until you disappear into the crowd.
And even then, he stays there for a moment longer, like the ground hasn’t quite settled under him yet.
Like something just shifted in a way he can’t undo.
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
Then he looks down at the place where you were standing.
At the empty space.
At the faint sweetness still lingering in the air.
And for the first time in a long time, Rhett Abbott smiles to himself.
Because he doesn’t know everything about you.
Doesn’t know where this is going.
Doesn’t know what this turns into.
But he knows one thing.
From the second you walked into his day, from the second you looked at him like he was something worth staying for.
He was already done for.
And somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing.