#rhett abbott outer range

[scarletmika]

Worthy of You : ̗̀➛ Rhett Abbott x Reader

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Famous!Reader

Summary: Rhett Abbott has been in love with you since he knew what love was, and that love was reciprocated. You managed to make a name for yourself, though, and Rhett can't help but feel like he's not worthy of who you've become.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, SMUT (unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink), porn with a LOT of plot, angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, reader is famous, female reader but no description of specific features like hair or skin, talks of anxiety and some self-deprecation, Rhett may be slightly ooc (he's a loverboy I promise you he is), we will be ignoring cannon events/supernatural stuff for this

Word Count: 18,693 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

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The Amelia County Rodeo Grounds weren’t foreign to you; they were a place you knew well, like the back of your hand.

It had stormed the night before, leaving broken branches snapped from trees along the sides of every road that led to the Rodeo Grounds. Trina, your manager, had mumbled multiple comments about how ‘they really needed to come clean up around here’ as your driver swerved around every pile of debris. They were both more than happy to leave you there at the rodeo and return to their swanky hotel in the next town over after you assured them you’d have a ride and be well protected at the grounds without their watchful eyes.

The dirt had turned to pits of mud, caking against the bottom of the old pair of cowboy boots you’d managed to slip on during the car ride over. The mud kicked up enough with every step to dirty the edges of your flared jeans, but they were yet another old pair that barely got worn anymore. The crowds were larger than you were used to, people packed along every stretch of dirt and near every vendor's booth. It was the Amelia County Championship, after all.

“Cecilia!”

The Abbot family turned the second they heard your voice. You had been a constant staple around the Abbott ranch since you were eight years old; they knew you like you were one of their own. You bounded up the bleachers, throwing out soft ‘excuse me’s’ to everyone you had to duck and weave around. You heard every single whisper that left them as you passed by.

“Is that-?”

“Holy shit, she’s back in town?”

“Oh my god, it’s really her!”

Cecilia Abbott was the first to tug you into her arms, holding you tightly to her as her hands rubbed up and down your faded t-shirt-covered back in that motherly way she had since the day you had met her. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around her, any bit of tension that was in your bones seeping out of you the second you inhaled that familiar floral scent of the perfume Rebecca had bought her so long ago.

“Oh, we’ve missed you, our little movie star!” Cecilia pulled back, cupping your cheeks with a bright smile. It was natural to melt into her touch, one that had always welcomed you from such a young age. “Well, little probably ain’t the best word for that.”

Perry Abbott popped up behind his mother, gently tugging her out of the way to pull you into a tight hug of his own.

“Damn, didn’t think we’d be seein’ ya tonight. Last I heard from Rhett, weren’t you over in London?”

“Yeah, we finished up press yesterday, so I hopped on the first flight home. Jet lag is a bit of a bitch,” you explained, pulling away with a bright smile. “I didn’t miss too much, did I? I was hoping to make it here before the final round.”

“You missed his first ride,” Royal chimed in from down the bench, giving you a short nod before gesturing toward the scoreboard. “Rhett’s sitting right about in the middle of the pack. It’s gonna take one hell of a ride for him to get the championship now.”

Your eyes followed Royal Abbott’s to the electronic scoreboard, showing Rhett’s name right around 5th place in the Amelia County Championship standings.

“So, it’s safe to assume Rhett doesn’t know you’re here?” Cecilia chimed in with a knowing smile as Amy tried to shove past her father and grandmother to get to you. You gave the older woman a knowing smile of your own as you glanced away from the scoreboard, trying to conceal your nerves.

“No, and I’d like to keep that as much of a surprise as I can-”

You were barely able to get the words out before Amy was past her family, throwing herself up into your arms with an excited shout. With a laugh, you caught her, lifting her into the air with a squeeze as she pulled back to look at you with a wide, toothy grin stretched across her face.

“Auntie! I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Amy girl,” her giggle was the sweetest, and god, had you missed hearing it while you’d been off on your much-too-long press tour.

Cheers erupted from around the stands. The arena was suddenly flooded with teams of bullfighters, and the announcer was launching into his typical spiel he always gave before the rides would commence.

Amy was quick to pull you down onto the bench beside her, tucking her smaller hand into yours. You took a glance around the stands. Many of the older couples sitting around you knew from when you were younger, as they shot you kind glances and grins. There were many you didn’t recognize, but from the giddy smiles on their faces, it was clear they recognized you. There was a whole group, maybe three or four girls somewhere around middle school age, staring at you from down the bleachers with stars practically in their eyes. They gave you excited waves that you easily reciprocated, unable to hold in your laugh as they practically jumped up and down at the simple acknowledgment from you.

A hat landed on your head, obscuring your vision for a moment, as you glanced back over toward Cecilia and Perry, the Abbott woman now missing her hat.

“If ya want to keep yourself a surprise, ya might want to stay hidden,”

There were no arguments from you as you tugged the hat so it obscured your face as best as possible before the first rider took his place on his bull across the arena. Only seven riders to watch before it would be Rhett’s turn, his last chance to secure the championship he’d been dreaming of for so long.

It felt like just yesterday when you saw Rhett Abbott ride a bull in a competition for the first time. You were twelve, a fresh seventh grader, standing right here at the Amelia County fairgrounds as he participated in his first junior bull riding competition. Back then, he was wearing the cutest helmet that barely sat properly on his head and was tightened as much as it possibly could’ve been. He’d managed to stay on for only seven seconds before his bull had finally bucked him off and sent him crashing into the ground. Naturally, Rhett was upset with himself that he hadn’t managed to stay on for eight seconds and thus didn’t receive the score he wanted, but you were still cheering louder than the entire county for him from the sidelines.

When the first seven riders came and went, you glanced at the scoreboard: not terrible scores, but manageable. Rhett could pull this off with one hell of a ride. 

You could just barely see Rhett mounting his bull from the other side of the arena; it felt like that first time all over again, like you were twelve watching your best friend ride again. Cheering him on from the stands as he passionately threw himself into the one hobby he’d loved ever since he was a kid, his one escape from the disaster of a home life you knew all too well.

It had been a month since you had last seen him. Press for “For Those We Love,” the newest book-to-film adaptation that was projected to be one of the largest box office successes of the last few years, given the large fanbase it had accumulated through the years, had taken you across the world. First, on a trip to Los Angeles and New York, then to Japan, and ending with a two-week press tour in London that included an appearance on The Graham Norton Show. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but there wasn’t anything in the world that would have been able to keep you from tonight’s competition.

FaceTimes never did Rhett Abbott justice, especially on that old-ass iPhone you couldn’t convince him to upgrade. Even from across the arena, you could tell that he was freshly shaven in the last week or so, keeping that stubble you adored not too long. The worn-in, brown leather hat you had gifted him for his fourteenth birthday was still tattered and beat up, but he still refused to ride without it. He refused to wear anything BUT that hat, calling it his good luck charm since it came from you.

The familiar sound of the buzzer echoed through the arena, the gate separating Rhett and his bull slid open, and you tightened your hand around Amy’s tiny one in an effort to calm your nerves.

Those eight seconds of Rhett on a bull were always the longest seconds of your entire life. You always cheered while he rode, but it simultaneously felt as if you were always holding your breath. His hand up in the air, the clouds of dirt that were kicked up from the frantic bucking of the bull, and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that was just begging him to be okay in the end, no matter what. Amy might have been young, but she knew how you were at the rodeo. That’s why her hand never left yours, even as she stood on top of her seat to jump up and down and cheer for her uncle.

The Abbott family was cheering alongside the rest of Amelia County. You recognized so many people from Wabang standing around, neighbors and school teachers alike, all cheering him on. And that weight in your stomach didn’t leave until he was finally bucked off to the ground and hauled to his feet in one piece.

Every eye in the arena shot to the scoreboard, waiting with bated breath.

The score appeared first: the judges gave him a 80. Then, Rhett’s name shot to the top of the leaderboard, solidifying him in first place.

The entire fairgrounds erupted into cheers. You were pretty sure the men behind you spilled some of their beer down your back as they jumped up, cheering Rhett’s name as loudly as they could, but you didn’t care. Amy was back up in your arms, both of you screaming as you spun the girl around in circles in pure excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your hometown boy: Rhett Abbott, Amelia County Rodeo Champion!”

The proud smile never left your face as you watched Rhett get paraded around on shoulders before being presented with the championship belt buckle and what you could only assume was the champion’s check as well. The crowd erupted into another chant of cheers as Royal and Cecilia made their way down the bleachers toward the fencing to wait for him.

Perry took Amy from your arms with a quick kiss to her temple, everyone else around the bleachers moving past you toward the fence as well to greet their hometown champion. He threw you a glance, nodding toward the rest of the Abbott family.

“Coming down?”

You stole a glance over your shoulder, that same group of three young girls waiting patiently at the end of the row, and you couldn’t help but laugh. With almost a flick of the wrist, you plopped Cecilia’s hat on Amy’s head, taking a few steps backward.

“In a minute. Distract him for me so I can go make these girls’ days,”

Somewhere behind you, Perry made a noise of agreement, but you had already turned around to the girls. By the time you’d made it a few feet down the row to kneel in front of them, all three of them were practically squealing in anticipation.

“I’m so sorry we’re bothering you,” the little redhead spoke so quickly she hadn’t taken a single breath. “We saw somewhere online that you might be here tonight b-because your boyfriend was riding, so we convinced my mom to bring us out here, and we didn’t want to b-bother you since it, you know, is your boyfriend-”

“You girls weren’t a bother at all,” soft giggles fell from your lips at their nervousness, and they quickly followed suit with giggles of their own. You took all three of their phone cases without even having to be asked, signing them with the Sharpie they handed you as well. Little kids were the best part of your job, seeing them so giddy and happy to meet you in moments like this.

“What’s it like dating a cowboy?” the youngest of the three asked as you brought them all into your side, their mother gearing up to take a photo of you all together. You hummed, pretending to have to think hard about it.

“Well, I’m not sure if you think boys are gross or not yet, but the muscles are quite nice to look at,”

“What’s it like being in a movie with Drew Livingston? He’s so dreamy,”

You laughed at their description of your co-star, smiling for the photo before looking between the girls again.

“He’s a sweetheart, but there’s another guy I’m interested in seeing right now who doesn’t even know I’m here, so it’s time to surprise him,” all three giggled again at your comment, glancing over your shoulder in the direction you knew Rhett would be standing against the fenceline, talking to his family and all of the supporters from the crowd. “Do me a favor, girls? Make sure you get some pictures of his reaction and DM them to me later, I promise I’ll see them.”

The looks from around the crowd were expected as you walked back in the direction of the Abbott family, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach the second you saw that faded leather cowboy hat on the other side of the fence. You’d accepted your status in Amelia County now: no longer just another local, but a spectacle, someone to whisper about and take photos of that others around the world would be jealous of.

None of that mattered to you. Rhett was all that mattered, the sun that was almost down behind the horizon glinting off the fence before him and off that championship buckle that was already fastened to his belt.

“Good ride, son,” Royal commented, reaching through the fence to slap his hand down on Rhett’s shoulder. He only gave his father a short, clipped smile, their relationship still as rocky as it had always been.

“Thanks, guys,” that gruff voice you adored with all of your heart huffed out to them as you hid behind some people just next to the Abbott family. He tugged at the leather gloves on his hands with his teeth, slapping them on the fence before tossing them into the dirt. “And thanks for comin’ out.”

“Hell of a ride, Rhett!” someone else from Wabang yelled out from somewhere crowded around the fence, inciting another round of cheers from the group bunched up to welcome their champion.

Rhett’s laugh was short, his eyes flicking across the crowd. Perry laughed, leaning against the fence rail with a smirk as he pointed at his younger brother.

“He don’t care about the rest of us being here. Look at that face: he’s looking for his lady!”

There was another cheer through the crowd, and you couldn’t help your smile as you saw just a hint of red creep into Rhett’s cheeks, that tiny, clipped smile he held growing just ever so slightly.

“I miss her, got a problem with that?” Rhett shot back at Perry as he reached around his back to loosen his vest slightly. “Just…wishing she was here, that’s all.”

That was the moment you decided to duck out from behind some of the others in the crowd around you. Perry sidestepped the second he saw you out of the corner of his eye, letting you take his place. With one foot on the rail, you jumped up on the fence so that you were looking down on Rhett on the other side, who still wasn’t looking at you, even as whistles and cheers reverberated through the crowd.

“Well, your wish is my command, cowboy,”

Rhett’s head finally whipped up to look at you, and you swore you would never get over the way he looked at you–a warm glance, filled with admiration. Looking at you was like he was learning what love was for the first time.

You had traveled the world, seen every city you had ever dreamed of seeing, but every time you looked into those deep blue eyes, you knew you were home.

“You…you were supposed to be in London,” his voice was gruff, like it always was, that familiar Wyoming drawl laced through it. Astonished was the best word to describe how he sounded. It only made your smile wider.

“I got the press tour moved up. No way I was missing my cowboy become a champion,”

Your words sank in. His mouth dropped open for a moment before closing and repeating itself. The crowd around the fence laughed, some men whooping and hollering for Rhett. All you did was smile at him, never once taking your eyes off him. That’s why you could see it, the moment his eyes dilated just looking at you.

He lurched forward, stepping up on the opposite side of the rail. All you could do was laugh as his hands popped over the side, sliding across your hips until he held you in his grip, and lifted you over the rail onto the dirt of the rodeo ring.

Rhett steadied you the second you both hit the ground once again. His hand curled around, pressing into the dip of your lower back, anchoring your body against his. You watched, smile never leaving, as his hand flicked the edges of that leather Stetson up, bathing his face in the golden rays of the sunset.

The crowd around the fence cheered once more as Rhett didn’t speak a word and simply pulled you into a kiss that would never fail to steal the breath from your lungs.

Every kiss with Rhett felt like you were 16 again, kissing your best friend on the front porch of his family home in the dead of the night.

Royal had lost it on Rhett, like he typically did, but this time it stung more than it had before. He’d uttered that one word that Rhett couldn’t stand: disappointment. That’s what Royal had called his son. You had just had yet another argument with your family over your future. Your desperation to make it, to chase your wildest dreams, to make a name for yourself beyond this tiny little Wyoming town. They’d shot you down once again, swore if you did anything besides inherit the family ranch passed down through the generations, they’d never see you as their daughter again: disownment.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Rhett to find yourself on the front porch of the Abbott ranch home, especially in moments like these, for both of you. Cecilia had always welcomed you, and Rhett had often joked that she saw you as more of her kid than he was. It always broke your heart, always ended with his hand wrapped in yours.

That night wasn’t supposed to be any different. You had run to the ranch through the rain–clothes soaking you to the bone–and Rhett was already waiting. The moon was already hanging in the sky, passing between the rain clouds as they came and went. Dressed in his clothing, warm with the faint scent of him clinging to them, you had simply sat side by side on the swing bench on his front porch, watching the rain hit the ground, creating mud pits throughout the yard. 

His arm sat wrapped around your shoulder, combing through pieces of your soaking wet hair, while your head lay on his shoulder. Lightning crackled across the sky, lighting up the land, as the roaring thunder followed. If someone asked either of you, neither of you could tell anyone what exactly was said or what led to the moment, but somewhere amid the storm and in your company, you had both turned to look at one another. All it took was one kiss to change everything, change the friendship you had held close and cherished since you were a little girl: soft, chaste, slightly hesitant, but perfect nonetheless.

Rhett didn’t kiss you hesitantly now. He had spent ten years kissing you in every conceivable way: chaste, long, soft, hard, passionate, loving, heated, messy. This kiss now, in the setting sun of the Amelia County Rodeo Grounds, amid the cheers of those who followed your every move and those who had known you both since you were two feet tall, it wasn’t like those kisses: it was longing. 

It was a welcome home. Not to the state, or the county, or the town–to him.

You savored it and fell into his hold. So familiar, the heat of his hands and his lips, the roughness of his skin as it dipped under your shirt to splay across your lower back. A month without this, without his touch, but it had felt like forever. You missed it, missed him, more than you could ever explain.

When he finally pulled back, letting your breath finally find you, Rhett never went far. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, and the center of your forehead before he rested his own against yours, allowing himself to simply stare down at you. His smile was soft, the movement of his thumb across your lower back comforting, as the roar of your friends and neighbors continued.

“Missed you,” he muttered, just loud enough for the two of you to hear, that barely there smile making your heart melt. “You moved a whole press tour for me, darlin’?”

You glanced to the side, those young girls from before waving you down. They’d snuck into the ring, jumping up and down and pointing at their phones. All you gave them was a wink in thanks, before turning back to your favorite cowboy.

“I barely moved it, just added a few hours to our one interview day to make up for travel time,” you shrugged it off, pretending it was nothing. His laugh that came next was low as he gave you a short shake of his head.

“Think you just gave Trina ‘nother reason to hate me,”

You rolled your eyes. “She doesn’t hate you, she just…strongly dislikes you,”

“Darlin’, I hated English class, but I think that’s the definition of the word-”

“We get it, you two are in love. Quit hogging her!”

Low laughter was shared between you both as Rhett pulled back just barely. His hand never left you as he walked you back to the railing, waving to those who continued to send praise his way before they parted for their drive back into town.

The Abbott family was all that was left by the fence. Rhett, as he almost always did around you, stepped up behind you where you stood, the taut muscles of his forearms wrapping around your shoulders and your chest so he could lean his head against the side of yours, placing yet another kiss to your hair.

“That was a great ride, Uncle Rhett!” Amy piped up, sending a toothiest grin up toward you both. You could feel Rhett’s chest rumble with laughter behind you.

“Thanks, Ames,” his hand left your side for barely a moment, reaching through the slots in the rail to ruffle her hair.

“Was solid, score was a bit low,” Royal’s comment came offhandedly, his gaze staring off into the distance, not even looking at his son. “You were a little wobbly up there. Score almost wasn’t enough to win it.”

Over the years, you had witnessed this too often, this dynamic between Rhett and Royal. When Rhett didn’t ride well, on his off days, Royal would mask that stupid disappointment in a vain attempt at being comforting, but his real feelings were clear. They were even clearer when he rode well, when he won, when his father was unable to just straight up compliment him without throwing in an unwanted criticism: judging Rhett for the path he’d chosen, for his insistence to make a name for himself. 

They were feelings you knew all too well. Your relationships with your parents were strained for different reasons, but the feelings it evoked were a shared experience between you both.

Rhett’s arms tensed around you, squeezing you just a little tighter to him. You placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it three little times: I love you. 

It did the trick, as you could feel the slight quirk of his lips against your hairline, his own hands squeezing your shoulders four times: I love you, too.

“Well, I think there’s plenty to celebrate tonight,” Perry cut in, trying his best to cut through the tension. It sure as hell wasn’t working that well. “Why don’t I drop these guys off at home and meet you two for some celebratory drinks? Sure the whole town is flooding the bar as we speak.”

“That’s all up to the champion back here,” Rhett was already looking down on you when you turned your head just slightly to see him.

“Think drinks at the ranch are good ‘nough for me tonight,” his answer came easily, another kiss placed on your head firmly but softly at the same time. “I don’t feel like sharing my famous girl with the whole town tonight.”

“You never share her,” Amy grumbled, arms crossed as she shot her uncle a glare.

The family all laughed at that comment, Cecilia bidding her son a final congratulations for the night and promising to see you both back at the ranch. Before long, you and Rhett were left as some of the last people mingling around the grounds under the bright lights.

His calloused hand wrapped in yours like it was made to be there, fingers interlocking with your own and giving the slightest tug. Like always, you fell into step beside Rhett like it was nothing, like you had been doing it your entire life, which you had.

There were plenty of people you knew still lingering around, cleaning up stalls and closing up the concessions and booths. Rhett’s crew was still cleaning up, taking a glance at you across the dirt ring and sounding another loud ‘whoop’ through the air to you both. 

“Think you have some adoring fans waitin’ for you, darlin’,”

Rhett was right. A few people lingered around the back of the ring, toward the gravel road that led to where the riders got to park their vehicles, as if they had studied where you might end up at the end of the competition in order to catch you. You sighed, giving Rhett an apologetic smile, but he only gave your hand a squeeze in return and pushed you off toward them.

Posters of past projects, one edition of Vanity Fair magazine with your face across the front, and Funko Pops of yourself that you hadn’t even seen yet. Each fan smiled and thanked you profusely for every signature. You thanked them in return for every ounce of support they showed you, but there was only one thing your heart wanted right now.

Rhett was leaning against the side of his truck, just 30 feet away, when you finally made it to him. A tired sigh escaped your throat as he chuckled at the sound, reaching forward to loop his fingers through the loops of your jeans, tugging you into him. You didn’t put up a fight, hands splaying across his chest as you looked up at him.

“I just got done ridin’ bulls, sweetheart, and you’re tired from signing some autographs?” he teased, that smug little smirk on his lips. You flicked at his hat, laughing lightly yourself as he softly smacked your hand away.

“No, I’m tired because I got on a plane at Heathrow, had to ride it into Denver, and then got on another one to get to Wyoming. Almost 11 hours in a plane to be here,”

“Sounds like a great time to get some sleep,”

The unimpressed look you shot at him drew another deep chuckle from him, his chest rumbling under your hands, and a flurry of butterflies he still knew how to give you shooting through you.

“While Trina drones on and on about the premiere and the countless more interviews that need to be done? Yeah, very soothing, I’ll make a machine and market it as ‘Trina Noise’ instead of white noise,”

Rhett buried his laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His fingers tugged on the loops of your jeans again, holding you as close as physically possible, and you leaned into him easily.

“So…how long do I get you for?”

“Two days,” you gave him a sheepish smile as he immediately groaned, throwing his head back so hard he almost lost his Stetson in the process. Dramatic, as always. You tugged him back to you with a hand on the back of his neck, that playful little smirk on his lips when you had him back to sitting up fully. “I’m sorry, Rhett. We have a day of press, including a Jimmy Fallon interview, and then the red carpet at Lincoln Square is the next day. Once this movie drops, I’ve been assured that I have two months off.”

“Before you’re whisked away from me again. Back into the heels, the diamonds, and the spotlight,”

It sucked. This whole thing sucked. You knew how much Rhett hated it, the way you were constantly gone. It had been this way since you were 19, a measly three years into your friendship turned romance, when you had gotten your big break with the biggest movie franchise of the modern era. In the seven years that had followed, you and Rhett had spent more time without one another than with each other, and it broke your heart every time you were whisked back onto a plane, back into the glittering cities and high society life without your cowboy at your side.

No one in this town understood one another the way you both understood each other. You may orbit two different worlds now, but there wasn’t a single person in Wabang that knew Rhett Abbott like you did, and there wasn’t a single hotshot celebrity that would ever understand you the way your cowboy did.

“Rhett-”

“No, that wasn’t fair of me,” he immediately cut in, shaking his head and pressing a short kiss to your forehead. Your fingers danced across his chest, drawing shapes into the fabric of his t-shirt, clinging to him under his flannel. “I’m being a bitch about it.”

“If you weren’t being a bitch about something, I’d actually be more concerned,”

That playful smile was back in seconds, Rhett’s hand leaving the loop of your jeans. It found its way to your ass, leaving a quick pinch there that had a laugh bubbling out of you, leaving a small whack on his chest for him to knock it off.

Your phone chose to buzz incessantly in your back pocket at that moment, right under Rhett’s hand. It wasn’t shocking, there was barely ever enough service to get text messages when you were out here watching Rhett ride, but every time you got to this back parking lot, your service kicked back in.

Rhett slipped your phone out of your pocket with a practiced ease. Lord knows you’d been in many similar and more compromising positions against this truck over the years. The phone screen illuminated his face, well enough that you could see the instant frown on his lips before he flicked the phone in your direction.

At least 15 texts in the last hour from Drew Livingston.

“Ignore him,” you sighed, taking your phone back and clearing the notifications from your co-star without reading a single one. Rhett just hummed, but that frown didn’t go away. “Come on, I know you want to run your mouth right now. Get it off your chest.”

It took Rhett a minute to talk, but you could already hear in your head what it was he wanted to say. You could see it in the clench of his jaw, in the tightening of his grip around your hip.

“He’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Which is saying something, since we grew up with the Tillersons,” not even a hand over your mouth could keep in the sharp laugh that escaped you, but Rhett pressed on. “Thinks he’s hot shit–what do they call it, a nepo baby–all because his daddy was famous, too…”

Rhett’s words trailed off, one hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch instinctively, the touch you had known your whole life, and you could see the corners of his lips finally twitch up just slightly at the action.

“I hate that he gets to see you every day,” Rhett’s thumb trailed back and forth over your cheek, before making its way to your lips, drawing a line down the middle of them and dragging your bottom lip down just slightly. “That I’m gonna have to watch a movie where he holds you, where he looks at you, where he kisses you-”

His words were swallowed by your kiss, lips slanted across his with a dizzying pressure. Rhett’s groan is swallowed in the kiss, in the parting of his mouth and yours, with the flick of your tongue just barely against the edge of his lips. That hand on your ass snuck its way into your pocket, ignoring your phone to grip the jeans-covered flesh of your ass and mold your body to his.

Rhett flipped the two of you easily, pressing your back against the driver’s side door as the handle dug just barely into your lower back. He didn’t let it dig in for long, that hand still gripping you, bringing you back in, his leg slotted between your legs now, pressing right where you needed him. Right where you’d dreamt about him being for the last month.

“Drew Livingston might kiss me on the big screen,” your words came out in a whisper against his lips, feeling the flex of his fingers against where he held tight to your body, your own Wyoming drawl more prevalent than ever in your voice. “But not against a dirty truck on the rodeo grounds. Never in the back of that truck, in the dead of night. Or lying somewhere on a sprawling ranch under the stars. And he sure as hell doesn’t get to fuck me at the end of the night…no, that’s all reserved for you, Rhett.”

“Don’t mention his name,” Rhett huffed out, hand trailing up your side. It ghosted over your collarbone beneath the edge of your t-shirt, playing with the dainty chain that hung around your neck. “Not when I’m in the middle of thinking ‘bout fucking you.”

You smiled softly, just watching him. His fingers played with that dainty gold chain, one from an old necklace you used to always wear. He tugged slightly, bringing it to lie on top of your shirt now, tips of his fingers just barely tracing over the edges of the little flower hanging from the end.

Rhett had made it. It was just days after you had kissed that night at 16, the two of you still tentatively exploring the romantic parts of your relationship together. He’d been helping Royal on the ranch when an old piece of the wire fence on the West edge snapped. They replaced it with a new coil of wire, but Rhett saved that small, broken piece of it. He shaped it himself, painstakingly, for hours, until it somewhat resembled the flowers that grew outside your bedroom window. Your old necklace you had forgotten one day when it broke, was sitting on his dresser, and he used it to turn it into a necklace for you, using an old rusty pair of pliers to fix the clasp of the necklace.

You remembered when he gave it to you: tentative, like he was scared you would run away.

I know I don’t offer a lot, but…I’ll love you. I’ll love you more than anything. I already do.

“Celebratory drinks first,” you cut in, bringing his gaze back up to your eyes, digging yourself out of that memory you cherished more than he’d ever know. Rhett groaned, leaning forward to leave a kiss to the pulse point beating within your neck that had you ready to give in right here and there.

“Darlin’,”

“You, my handsome cowboy, are a champion bull rider now. We celebrate that, first, then you can have me as your prize after,”

What could you say: Rhett always followed your lead.

It was verging on midnight by the time Cecelia had come outside to the porch, dragging a drunken Perry back through the doors and bidding you both a soft goodnight. You didn’t mind, instead letting yourself enjoy the quiet of the night on that same porch swing from a decade ago that held a special place in your heart.

Rhett’s head lay in your lap, Stetson discarded beside you on a rickety side table. All you could find yourself doing was watching him, ignoring the stars in the sky that you loved to watch from this very spot.

That dopey, slightly tipsy smile on his face as he couldn’t look away from you, those dilated ocean-blue eyes looking up at you. The flush to his cheeks from the alcohol running through his system. You ran your hand through his hair–slightly greasy as he had yet to shower off the competition, not that you minded–twirling strands between your fingers and scraping your nails just barely over his scalp.

“Championship bullrider,” you drew out the words a bit, a smirk on your face as the swing rocked back and forth just barely. “I like the sound of that. My boy, finally a champion like he deserves to be.”

“Wish that check they handed over screamed ‘champion,’”

“How much was it for?”

“Just a thousand,”

“We've got to get you into a real, professional circuit so you can make the good money for what you put your body through,”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t push. It was always a delicate subject–professional circuits–because that meant leaving Wabang behind. Instead, you fell into a comfortable silence together.

Your phone buzzed, and you checked it for just a second. Another text from Drew, something related to the interviews that were lined up before your late-night talk show appearance together. It was late, that was a text you could deal with tomorrow. Swiping the notification away, you popped open Instagram, smiling at your latest post, courtesy of those darling little girls from earlier.

“How’d it go over there in London?” Rhett eventually asked quietly.

You hummed, placing your phone back down by his hat to return your hand to his hair. Dragging your nails over his scalp again as you looked out toward the night sky, the quiet chirping of crickets in the air around you both. He was deflecting, but you decided to let him.

The lights inside the home had been turned off, the Abbott family all retreating to bed, leaving you both under just the light of the moon and the fireflies that flitted about.

“Wasn’t terrible, just long. A lot of 10 to 12-hour days. Wasn’t always interviews, though, there were photoshoots and then, of course, the premieres thrown into it,”

“Deputy Joy was over the other day, ‘nother fight with the Tillersons,” Rhett mentioned off-handedly, one of his hands coming up to run down the length of your arm and back up, before repeating itself. “She said you assured her that you would get the town a personal screening of the movie in that rundown theater by the post office.”

“I’ve done that with all my movies, Rhett,”

“I know, that’s why there’s a shrine to you in The Handsome Gambler,” he joked right back at your comment.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, and you knew it, too. There was an entire wall dedicated to the last four movies you had the pleasure of being part of, all personally signed by you as well, before they were fitted into frames and hung up. It didn’t help that the owner, Aiden Martin, had hung up old photos of you from your childhood around them, too. Yearbook photos, old photos that you weren’t sure how someone had wrangled from your parents’ home, and ones from old friends you no longer spoke to.

You didn’t entirely mind, Mr. Martin said it was good for business whenever tourists came through, diehard fans you had amassed, wanting to walk down the memory lane of your life.

“The shrine is a bit much, I’ll admit. Mr. Martin could’ve kept out the yearbook photos,”

“I like it,” Rhett muttered, taking your hand that had been resting across his abdomen in his and bringing it up to his lips, leaving a feather-soft kiss across your palm. “Just makes me proud.”

Sometimes, you wished that the people of Wabang got to see the Rhett Abbott that you did. They only ever saw him as what Royal constantly made him out to be: the fuck-up, the reject, the rebel, the disappointment of the Abbott family. He could be reckless, but quiet, unless you pissed him off. Lord knows he’d use his hands at the first chance he got; you had seen it many times throughout the years.

The Rhett you saw, the side only reserved for you, was so different. He was a fuck-up simply because he didn’t want to be what his father wanted him to be. He was a rebel only because he wanted a different life for himself so badly. With you, he was never any of those. He was still quiet sometimes, but so charismatic when he wanted to be. Charming, sweet, and an utter hopeless romantic. Hard not to get called a hopeless romantic when you fashion a flower necklace out of old fence wire for your sort-of girlfriend at the time.

There was a time when you had talked about it: running away. Starting over, making a new life for yourselves somewhere else. It didn’t matter where, as long as you were together. Rhett liked the idea of Texas, finding a ranch somewhere for just the two of you. You loved that idea, too…then Hollywood finally came calling, and finally saw in you what Rhett always saw. It bulldozed those wishful thinking plans you had crafted, and set you on the path you were walking now: you were living your dream, while Rhett was still stuck where he had always been.

“I meant to ask,” your voice was soft after a moment, fingers dancing around his as they interlaced with yours, your other hand still carding through the long strands of his hair. “Would you…like to come to the premiere with me?”

Rhett paused, just staring at your intertwined hands. You didn’t have to look at him to know the look that was written across his face, or to hear the little sigh he let out.

“Darlin’-”

“I know, I know, you hate New York,” you responded quickly before Rhett could properly speak, throwing your head back against the edge of the swing with a sigh of your own. “It’s stuffy, the people suck, it’s dirty, it’s so loud, you can’t see the stars because of the light pollution…you hate it, I know. You reminded me the entire week you were there for my very first premiere and haven’t been back since.”

It was quiet again for a moment.

“That’s your world, angel,” Rhett finally spoke, pressing another kiss to your hand before resting it back across his abdomen. Still intertwined with him. “Your world doesn’t have space for people like me.”

You couldn’t help it, the clench of your jaw at the way he said that.

“You forget that Rhett Abbott has been part of my world since I was a little girl…I don’t want to exist in a world that doesn’t have him as part of it,”

Getting worked up over this moment was stupid. Truly, genuinely, so stupid. But it was hard when Rhett talked about himself like that, when he still saw himself as some disappointment that wasn’t good enough for you, to exist in the world you had been welcomed into.

He shifted, head rising from your lap, and a hand cupped the back of your neck, bringing you back up so that you could look at him. Rhett was seated on the swing beside you now, looking down at you with so much love and care as he wiped the stray tear that managed to trickle down your cheek.

“No crying, sweetheart,”

“Hard not to,” you whispered back, trying to smile. “I just…I love you so much. You’re all I have left, you’re everything to me, and sometimes it feels like you don’t understand that.”

Rhett looked at you, and that’s all he really did. He just looked. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as he tried to find the words.

Your phone buzzed again, both of your gazes flickering toward it. Collectively, you both tried to ignore it until it buzzed again. With a defeated sigh, you grabbed the device again, flicking the screen open.

Yet again, even more texts from Drew, and given that you knew he was in New York, you didn’t even want to know how drunk he was or what party he was attending and doing god knows what at. The texts were at least coherent, though, just a bunch of messages discussing the upcoming interviews again and how his manager thought it would be a good idea to play up your characters’ connection during the interviews to really sell the romance aspect of it.

“Who is it?” Rhett muttered after a moment, his hand still cupping the back of your neck, fingers drawing shapes into the skin. You huffed, leaning into his touch as you typed back a simple ‘We’ll talk about it when I get back to New York’ text.

“Just Drew not understanding personal space. I get he wants to talk about work and how we plan to tackle certain aspects of the interviews, particularly the character romance, but it’s fucking two in the morning over there. Like…go to bed?”

With your phone tossed aside, you looked back at Rhett. He was still just looking, watching you, but it was different this time. Something in his eyes was darker, his jaw was clenched just slightly, and you could practically see the tension in his shoulders.

“What–?”

He didn’t let you speak, just pulled you into a searing kiss. You didn’t complain, having just kissed him not even an hour ago, when Perry was still awake and drinking with you both, and still missing the taste of his lips.

That tension, that darkness in his eyes, translated into his kiss. It was bruising, his lips practically devouring you. His hand still gripped onto your neck, locking you to him, his tongue sliding across your lower lip and dipping just barely into your mouth, swallowing the breathless moan that escaped your throat in that second. Your nails dug into his bicep, surely leaving little crescent-shaped marks, and that’s when Rhett pulled back just slightly, nipping just barely at your bottom lip.

“I’ll come with you…to New York,”

He was so sure in the way he said it, but you still couldn’t process the words being said to you. Leaning back as far as his hand would let you, looking up at him with furrowed brows and your head cocked to the side.

“Rhett, don’t feel like you have to just because I started crying-”

“I want to,” he said again, definitively. You watched him, trying to decipher what it was that had changed his demeanor and mind so quickly, but you couldn’t pinpoint it anywhere in his face. “You’re everything to me too, darlin’. So, if I have to suffer in that city to show it to you, I will.”

Whatever that look was in his eyes, whatever had changed his mind, you dropped it in that moment. Instead, you laughed, leaning back in and letting him steal yet another heated kiss from your lips.

“I’ll text Trina so she can get everything sorted out-”

“Tomorrow,” Rhett’s voice had dropped again, huskier, as he nipped at your lip once more, before trailing his lips down to your jawline. “I believe I was promised you, my pretty little angel, as a prize after some celebratory drinks tonight…and I’ve had enough with drinking for the night.”

❤︎

Rhett hated your townhouse in New York.

He’d been in your childhood home many times growing up, and had seen the traces of you scattered throughout. Your stacks of CDs, the pile of clothing in the corner of your room overflowing your laundry basket. Wall-to-wall bookshelves, an entire shelf dedicated to every special edition of “For Those We Love” that existed, with money you’d scraped together from odd jobs throughout town. You collected posters from magazines of all the movies you had ever loved, the actors and actresses you admired. A photo wall, dedicated to photos throughout your childhood until you were a teen, sat right below your shelf of equestrian competition trophies. Rhett had been in most of those photos and at every one of those competitions.

This townhouse was nothing like your room. Pristine, clean, white walls and white furniture with minimal pops of colors here and there. Chandeliers that probably cost more than the entire Abbott family ranch. Photos were hung, but not like your childhood bedroom. Magazine covers with you on them, press tour photos, movie posts, all hung around the shelf in the living room, housing the multiple awards you had won through the years.

An entire house curated and designed by Trina and her team, lacking everything that made you the woman he’d fallen in love with the second he understood what love was.

Rhett tried to ignore those thoughts in his head as he glanced around the bedroom he’d been in multiple times, taking in those same features of the room that he despised, the ones that made him feel out of place. Instead, he shifted it to you.

Still asleep, breath ghosting over his bare chest where your head lay right over the tattoo etched into his pectoral. Fingers curled across his abdomen, flexing every few moments in the quiet of the morning. Rhett couldn’t help but smile at the sight, just barely brushing his fingertips through your hair, curling stray pieces away from your face.

“It’s rude to stare,” he could just faintly hear you mumble, feeling your smile curl against his skin. A low laugh grumbled through him as he leaned down, leaving a lasting kiss against your hairline.

“Have to admire the work of art lying beside me naked,”

He watched as you turned just barely, moving up his body. Your arms rested against his chest, head hovering just above his, and Rhett let his arms settle around your bare waist and hug you closer to him.

“Morning, cowboy,”

“Mornin’, sunshine,”

His smile grew at the little hum in your throat, before you leaned down to kiss him. Rhett couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he eagerly brought you closer to him in the midst of the kiss, curling a hand around the back of your head to cradle you to him.

“Wish we could stay here all day,” you mumbled against his lips as Rhett left peck after peck upon them. “But we have quite a long day today.”

“Five more minutes, darlin’, just five more…”

Five became ten before Rhett finally relented, defending himself from the attack you launched on him, claiming his lips were “too addictive” and you needed to get up.

Clad in nothing but the lounge pants he’d managed to pull on in haste, Rhett’s eyes never left you as you descended the stairs down to the kitchen. Wearing his t-shirt, the hem dropping right at your mid thigh, barely covering you and the tiny pair of panties you had slipped on in the morning.

He had half a mind to drag you right back up to that bed and never let you leave it, not until his name was the only one you could ever remember.

“You’re late,”

Your body jumped back into Rhett’s, who quickly grabbed you and dragged you just behind him at the voice that called out as you both stepped into the kitchen. Tension rolled off of both of you the second you both could see who it was speaking.

“Trina, what have I told you about coming in here without texting me?” you scolded your manager, crossing the kitchen to open the fridge. Rhett stayed in his place, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, eyes darting between both of you.

“When it’s 11:30 in the morning, and I told you we’d be here at 11 to get you ready for the press, I’m going to let myself in. I chose not to walk upstairs to protect my damn eyes from what I might see,” it was then that Trina finally looked in Rhett’s direction, her mouth dropping into a flat line and her tone bordering on almost boredom as she spoke. “Hello, Rhett.”

Rhett gave her the most cordial nod that he could, joining you at your side as you slid a glass of orange juice into his hand.

He didn’t hate Trina, not in the slightest. She’d helped you secure your dream, he’d always thank her for that, but that didn’t mean he liked the woman. She reminded him too much of your own mother, the one who had disowned you, in a way. Headstrong, didn’t like taking no for an answer, and always had to have things done her way. He didn’t like letting his mind wander, to think if you were being forced into any situations just because Trina found them to be best.

“I assume that the team is all set up in the living room,” you questioned your manager. With a nod in response from her, you turned back to Rhett, leaving another kiss on his lips that really had him struggling not to kick everyone out and just keep you all to himself. “Half an hour tops, I promise.”

Rhett hummed in response, letting you make your way over to Trina at the table. He couldn’t argue with it, really, he knew how long your team took to get you ready at times.

“Got the paperwork back for that…side thing we talked about. They accepted, you just have to sign. Just remember that I really don’t agree with it,” Trina rolled her eyes as she said it, passing you a manila folder. Rhett could almost see the way your eyes lit up as you took the folder from her quickly, flipping through the contents as you moved into your living room. Rhett didn’t get to dwell on it, though; instead, his attention was brought back to Trina as she snapped in his direction. “Half an hour, cowboy. I want you to look Hollywood-level presentable.”

What the entertainment industry considered “presentable” wasn’t something that Rhett Abbott could fathom, or recreate, so he got as close as he could. His nicest pair of jeans with his nicest button-down shirt that he kept specifically here in New York with the love of his life, so there was no chance it ever got dirty. The dirty cowboy boots on his feet, tucked beneath his jeans, were the only dead giveaway that he didn’t belong, besides the look on his face. Rhett had even forgone the Stetson for the day, leaving it back in the living room in your townhome.

Everyone around Rhett knew he didn’t belong, though, that he stood out no matter what, and he knew it too.

Teams of reporters and interviewers moved through the room, talking with assistant after assistant to confirm their spot in the lineup of interviews. Rhett stood as out of the way as he could, shifting back and forth on his feet. His eyes never left you, though.

Black slacks that hugged you just perfectly, matching black heels, and a deep purple blouse tucked into the waistband of your slacks. You spoke across the room with Trina, already seated in your chair, as an assistant fixed the lip gloss across your lips and ensured that your hair was in place.

You met his eyes from across the room, lips stretching into a smile even as the assistant scolding you to hold still, and sent him a wink. He caught sight as you moved of that stupid wire flower hanging around your neck, and couldn’t help but smile.

Rhett never talked about his feelings often, just with you. So, he had no one to really talk to growing up about the butterflies your smile always gave him, or the flutter in his chest you were still capable of giving him all this time later.

“Well, well, well! Rhett, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Rhett didn’t want to say that he hated Drew Livingston; he’d never met him until now, but…he hated him. At least, he hated what the man exuded. A fake air of confidence, fueled by the knowledge of how famous his father had been, dressed in only the finest designers, that totaled up to more money than Rhett had ever seen in his life.

Now, the actor stood before him, and Rhett still disliked him. Smug smirk, dressed from head to toe in a deep purple Valentino suit that–as much as Rhett hated it–matched your shirt perfectly. His Rolex glinted off the overhead lights, but Rhett found solace at least seeing that the man was just a few inches shorter than him.

Besides, if he could deal with the Tillerson family his entire life, he could deal with one more entitled prick.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Rhett huffed out, faking a smile with no teeth as he held his hand out. It didn’t go unnoticed to him the way Drew glanced at it, almost grimacing, before shaking Rhett’s hand.

“Our darling girl has told me so much about you,” Rhett’s fingers flexed at just the simple use of that nickname. No one should be calling you that but him. Drew’s eyes flicked down Rhett’s outfit, studying him, judging him, before their gazes met again. “Nice to see that you…clean up so well. Or, as well as a ranch hand can.”

If Rhett didn’t know any better, Drew Livingston could be a distant cousin of the Tillersons. Though that was a little far: even Rhett wouldn’t force the Tillersons to associate with the likes of this prick.

His grip on Drew’s hand tightened just slightly, but not enough to be noticeable.

“Bull rider, actually,” Rhett shot back slowly, staring down the man before him, wishing he could just take a swing and wipe that smirk off his face. “Championship one now.”

“I saw in her latest post, how…cute,” Drew laughed, tightening his own grip back on Rhett’s hand, but the Abbott boy didn’t flinch. “Can’t imagine that pays much, especially since there’s no ring on her finger. Ten years together, damn. You should really find a way to lock her down, Abbott, before someone…worthy of her comes along.”

That’s what did it. Rhett’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together, and the semblance of a fake smile wiped off his face in an instant with just a few words. 

He tightened his grip on Drew’s hand, as if he were gripping onto his bull for dear life, and there it was: a wince in Drew Livingston’s face. That was enough to bring a smirk to Rhett’s face, now.

His voice stayed low, but it bordered on something else, something more dangerous, as he spoke. “There’s not a single man on this earth worthy of her, pretty boy, and if you can’t see that…then you sure as hell don’t come close to it.”

Someone–maybe Trina–called out for places, announcing that the interviews would begin soon. Neither Rhett nor Drew let go right away, gazes locked as if still in a battle with one another. All Rhett did was give the movie star’s hand one last tight squeeze before conceding, allowing the man to take his place across the room in the chair next to yours.

His eyes met yours, and he could see the question written across your face in the raise of your eyebrow: you good?

Rhett gave a simple nod, crossing his arms with his jaw still tight with tension, as the first interviewer entered the room.

If that simple conversation solidified anything for Rhett, it was that he did hate Drew Livingston.

“This movie has been a long time coming, an adaptation of one of the greatest books of the twenty-first century,” the young reporter, a woman just barely in her twenties, asked animatedly somewhere in the middle of her interview. “I have to know, what was it like for you two to take on such iconic roles such as Trace and Millie?”

“It’s been the role of a lifetime, but incredibly daunting at the same time,” your response came quickly, and Rhett’s grin returned, just watching your response and seeing that little smile on your face. Your eyes met across the room for a split second as you gestured off camera in his direction. “I mean, you can ask my boyfriend, this book became my whole personality growing up, I had an entire self dedicated to every special edition there was. I remember when my agent said they wanted me to audition for Millie–I don’t think there was anyone in New York who didn’t hear me scream. But these characters are so beloved, I know a lot was riding on me to embody her and everything she stands for with grace.”

“For me, any nerves I had about this role went right out the window the second I was in a room with this girl,” Drew cut in, flashing a dazzling smile in your direction as he casually threw his arm around the back of your chair. “I mean, she’s played a literal superhero on the big screen, but she’s a real-life superhero too. So poised, so incredibly talented–I couldn’t imagine having done this movie with anyone else, truly. I’m so blessed I got to go on this journey with her at my side.”

If Rhett’s jaw could clench any harder, if his teeth could grind together more, surely he’d be sanding a few inches off of his enamel. Just that slimy man’s arm around the back of your chair, that smug smirk he subtly shot off camera in Rhett’s direction, made him want to stalk over there and haul him into a back alley by the collar of his shirt.

The interviews continued, 5-10 minutes per interviewer, all asking questions that bordered on being the same exact questions. 

What was it like taking on the characters? Was there anything changed from the books to the movie? Can we expect an adaptation of the book’s equally as critically acclaimed sequel?

You handled yourself with a practiced poise and grace and humility with every question, laughing when appropriate and taking a more serious approach to integral questions, too. Every so often, your gaze would flick over to Rhett, and any tension he felt toward your co-star melted at just seeing you so happy, so in love with what it was you got to call your job. Your dream.

“Alright, they’re waving me off that it’s almost time to go, so just one last question for you both,” it was the final interviewer of the day before you’d be whisked off for your big late-night appearance recording. The man was older, somewhere around Royal Abbott’s age, with a press tag that read the name of some magazine that Rhett had never heard of. “Looking back on the filming of this movie, what would you each say was your favorite moment throughout filming?”

“Playing Millie as a whole,” you answered easily, that happy smile back on your face at just talking about the character. “She’s so strong and passionate, while also able to show her most vulnerable aspects, and growing up, she had always been this perfect representation of what I wanted to be. I have to say that getting to run from zombies in this was fantastic, but getting to do it as a character that I have always adored meant more than anything. I just hope that I’ve played her to the best of my ability, and that a new generation can watch this movie and look up to her in the way that I did when reading the books.”

The interviewer said something in response to you, but Rhett’s gaze had been caught by Drew once more. There was a hint of a smirk on the man’s face again, as he dared to shoot him a sly wink, before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“By far, the best moments for me were any moments that I got to share with this wonderful woman,” he played up his response, hand leaving his lap to come to rest over your knee with a playful squeeze. “Every scene with her is like magic, the chemistry is so mindblowing that it’s so easy to forget that we’re acting. And the kiss scene, oh boy, that was on another level-”

He was touching you, and Rhett was seeing red.

It didn’t matter what the stuck-up bastard was saying right now, even if the simple mention of that damn kiss scene spread across every trailer had Rhett biting his tongue, the fact that he had the nerve to touch you. No one touched you like that, no one except for Rhett himself.

What pissed him off more was the look on your face, that grimace as you awkwardly laughed and shifted your leg out of his hold: you were uncomfortable, and that pissed him off a hundred times more.

Rhett’s glare never left Drew, who still wore a cocky smirk on his face, as the interview room was cleaned up. Not even when you were back in his arms, cradling his jaw in your hands and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had heat vision and were trying to burn a hole into the side of Drew’s face from across the room,”

Rhett huffed out a clipped laugh, gaze trailing down to you, and finally softening. His arms found their place around your hips, holding you to him as tightly as he could.

“You were uncomfortable-”

“Yes, and I had it handled,” you reminded him gently, stealing a quick kiss from his lips that Rhett was desperate for more of. “You can’t just go punching anyone who makes me uncomfortable.”

“I did to Luke Tillerson when he tried to hit on you a few years ago-”

“Yeah, then I had to bail you out of jail the next morning: point proven,”

“Let’s go, people!” Trina called out, directing the group of people littering around the room toward the doors with a wave of her hand. “Show recording starts in an hour and a half, studio is expecting us in the next 20 minutes!”

Rhett’s hand didn’t leave your knee, right where it belonged, the entire limo ride across Midtown to the studio lot, and his glare never left Drew Livingston. Drew’s smirk never faltered either, and he held Rhett’s gaze like it was a game: like you were a game to him. It had the Abbott boy almost seeing red once again.

Anxiety crawled through Rhett’s system the second they were parked in front of the studio lots, and he could already hear the cheers of the crowd around the front doors before he stepped out of the limo. Once he did, it was blinding–more so, overwhelming-the amount of people crowded around for a simple glimpse at the movie star love of his life.

For a moment, he felt like he couldn’t see through the flashes of the paparazzi cameras, reaching back into the limo to take your hand and help you out onto the sidewalk. As the crowd cheers grew, and you smiled and waved to them all, Rhett made sure to “accidentally” shut the door of the limo in Drew’s face, before tugging you toward the doors of the studio.

He felt your hands squeeze his three little times: I love you.

Rhett didn’t hesitate to return it four times: I love you, too.

You were whisked away from him again, just as this world always demanded, off into a dressing room of your own to change for the recording of your late-night talk show appearance. Rhett was left to his own devices in the studio’s green room.

Some stupid song, probably something from the charts he never listened to, was playing softly off a radio in the corner. The television across from the couch Rhett sat on, the one he would be able to watch the coming show on, just had that familiar logo of the show spinning around on it. With a heavy sigh, he poured himself a glass of whiskey from the platter sitting on the table in front of him, resigning himself to a drink as his boot-covered foot tapped incessantly against the rug beneath him.

“Feel out of place?”

Lost in his own thoughts, Rhett hadn’t heard or seen Drew enter the room, clad in a brand new black suit this time. He flashed Rhett a smile before stalking across the room, pouring himself a glass of his own vodka from the tray sitting on top of the piano. Rhett’s hand around his glass flexed involuntarily.

“A bit,” he let himself answer, taking another swig of his drink, voice still gruff with indifference toward the man. “Nothing like Wyoming.”

“I bet, much cleaner here,” Drew paused, laughing to himself as he leaned against the piano, gesturing vaguely in Rhett’s direction. “Nothing personal, didn’t mean that as a slight against you, pal. Just…trying to understand.”

Rhett hummed, just watching the spinning logo on the screen.

“Understand what?”

“What the hell she sees in you,”

Rhett’s jaw locked up again, teeth grinding together, as his fingers white-knuckled the glass in his hand. Drew only laughed again from across the room, continuing his tirade before Rhett could interject.

“One of the most sought-after actresses of our generation, the world treats her like a princess everywhere she goes, and yet she stays with you,” Drew crossed the room, plopping into a seat directly below the television, forcing himself into Rhett’s line of sight. “From what I’ve heard: a 26-year-old bum with, basically, no job–unless you count bull riding, which again, I’m sure pays so much–who still lives on his family ranch. No dreams, no aspirations, besides getting bucked off bulls into the dirt and going drinking at some rundown bar afterward.”

It took everything in Rhett to keep his cool, even though he was sure, with enough pressure, he could crack the glass in his hand into a thousand pieces. His steeled gaze shot down to finally look at the actor across from him, practically dripping in money, the exact opposite of Rhett.

“Yeah, I don’t offer much, never said I did,” were the words he settled on, bringing his glass up to his lips for another sip. “There a point to this conversation?”

“Yeah, there is. You talk about how no one is worthy of her, but what you fail to realize is that you, Abbott…are the least worthy of that woman of the whole bunch,”

That was enough to give Rhett pause, his glass settling just barely against his lips. Drew continued before he could speak once more.

“I know for a fact that you haven’t been to a single premiere of hers since the very first one, until now, even though she invites you to every single one. I know that, because she told me that,” he casually swirled his vodka in his glass, just watching the liquid slosh around. “Should I mention again that you’ve been with her for ten years and haven’t put a ring on her finger, haven’t given her a definitive answer on your future together? Oh, right, you can’t because you can’t afford her. The most famous woman on the planet right now, adored by thousands if not millions, and you can’t leave the comforts of Wyoming to support her. I’ve been there, making sure on the days she’s sad that her tears don’t fall, or buying her congratulations gifts when she wins another award or has another glowing article written about her. You want to talk about worth, Abbott?”

Drew leaned forward just slightly, taking a sip of his drink with a smirk still on his lips.

“You have nothing to offer her, Abbott: no money, no support, no future. You’re hanging onto high school dreams and fantasies while she’s made a name for herself. You’re holding her back, and it’s only a matter of time until she comes to her senses and realizes what a disappointment her high school cowboy really is,” he leaned back again, casually, as if his words hadn’t cut like a knife. “I’m just looking out for you, Rhett, man-to-man. If you love her, you’d realize she’s in much better hands with me than your own.”

Disappointment.

Rhett could almost hear Royal’s voice in his head saying it.

Drew only sat silently, that smirk still on his face, still swirling his drink around the glass.

“Been meaning to ask, it’s an…interesting necklace she always wears. That messy wire design, it’s a flower, right? Or, supposed to be…”

Disappointment. Rhett couldn’t get that word out of his head, even as he found himself nodding.

“It’s, uh, it's Fireweed. They-”

“Native to Wyoming, grew outside her bedroom window,” Drew finished off, chugging the last of his drink. “I know. She told me.”

There was a knock at the door then, Trina poking her head in to announce it was go time.

You stepped in after, and Rhett looked over. Makeup and hair done to perfection, sparkly heels that still barely had you reaching his own height, and a gorgeous off-the-shoulder black dress that fit you like a glove.

Rhett couldn’t even appreciate it to its fullest extent, too lost in his own head.

Drew greeted you, some over-the-top comment about how gorgeous you looked. You were beside Rhett moments later, leaning down just slightly to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched as you watched him, saw that flicker of concern in your eyes, as you mumbled a quick “you okay?” to him. All he could do was nod, never even shutting his eyes as you stole a kiss from his lips, before you were whisked out to the stage.

Even as the show began, Rhett couldn’t watch. He couldn’t get Drew’s words out of his head.

Did Drew have a point? Rhett didn’t want to think so, but nothing he said was a lie. He had no job; he’d won only one championship now in bull-riding and wasn’t going to be winning much money in the Wyoming circuits. 

He’d looked at rings, of course, he had. Rhett knew he wanted to marry you from the moment you had first kissed that night on his porch. But no ring was ever good enough, and even the measly thousand this championship had afforded him wasn’t going to get him a ring that you deserved.

Rhett lived at home, on his family ranch, with the family that treated him like the rebellious, disappointing son, but he didn’t try to leave. He wanted to leave with you once, but those dreams died the moment you achieved your lifelong dream, when you got sucked into the world of glitz and glamour. Dreams of a Texas ranch, far away from both of your families, just the two of you and acres of land to yourself, were a faraway dream now.

You were a household name. People adored you in every city you went to. You were dressed day to day in the finest clothing money could buy and lavished in the finest gifts. Maybe Drew had a point: Rhett couldn’t afford to love you, not the way you deserved.

“You two just have so much chemistry,” the host, Jimmy, spoke as the crowd cheered in agreement with him. Rhett finally looked up at the television, feeling as if hours had passed, watching the end of the interview play out on the screen. “You have to just love working together.”

“I mean, I won’t lie, of course I love working with this talented woman,” Drew laughed, reaching over and laying a hand on your arm as you laughed it off. “She made every moment on set so amazing that I had to find the perfect way to thank her. It took me a while to think of it, but I thought now would be the perfect time!”

Rhett watched you on the screen, that adorably confused look on your face, as Drew reached into a bag behind his chair. The crowd cheered loudly once again as he pulled out a long velvet box. He popped it open, and the camera zoomed in on it as the crowd gasped in awe.

A necklace. Decorated with more diamonds than Rhett had ever seen in his life. Hanging from it? A glittering, diamond-encrusted Fireweed flower.

“Oh-! Oh Drew, it’s…it’s gorgeous!” he watched as you laughed, taking the box from his hands to look at the necklace closer, before shooting your co-star a small, sheepish smile. “T-Thank you, truly. Working with you was a privilege, too.”

Drew took your hand in his, bringing you both to your feet as the crowd cheered once more. Then, he brought your hand to his lips, laying a kiss on your knuckles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your stars of 'For Those We Love,' in theaters this Friday, so check it out! Goodnight!”

Whatever Rhett was feeling before, it didn’t matter. No, if he had been seeing red earlier on in the day, he wasn’t sure how to describe the pure rage flowing through him right now.

His empty whisky glass slammed down onto the table before him, and he was sure somewhere in the back of his head he heard the glass crack. Rhett practically threw his body into the greenroom door, slamming it open so hard that a group of interns walking past jumped in their place. He paid them no mind, though, already stalking through the hallways toward the stage.

It didn’t matter who he shoved into in order to get there; Rhett bodied his shoulder into every person in his way, following the signs along the wall that led backstage. And when he got there, his eyes zoned right in on his target.

You were off to the side, speaking in hushed whispers behind the curtain to the stage with Trina, waving your hands animatedly. Rhett wasn’t looking at you, though; his eyes were on Drew. Unalarmed, back to him, conversing with his own manager.

Rhett Abbott didn’t give the movie star a second to react, clamping his hand down onto his shoulder hard and throwing him backwards. Drew stumbled as a few people in the area let out gasps of shock. The second Drew laid eyes on him, all he could do was laugh, stumbling to regain his balance.

“Cowboy, how nice of you to join us-”

Rhett took him by the collar of the shirt, throwing him back hard against the pillar just behind him. More gasps rang through the room, someone shouting for security, but Rhett didn’t care. He bared his teeth, grinding them together, as he almost snarled just inches from Drew’s face.

“What makes you think you have the right to fucking touch her?”

“Rhett!” he could almost hear your voice call out from across the room, but was too occupied with Drew’s laughter.

“Come on, cowboy, I’m just playing the game for her heart. Think I won over the fans with that move,”

“My girl isn’t a fucking prize to be won, you piece of shit,”

“Isn’t she?” Drew cocked an eyebrow.

Rhett’s hands tightened on the man’s collar as he let go with one hand, balling it into a fist, before a hand grabbed at his fist, tugging it back. He turned, seeing you now standing beside him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Do you want to be on the cover of every tabloid by the end of the night for starting a fight right now?” you hissed out, and he could see Trina rocking back and forth nervously behind you. “Rhett…let him go, now. Please.”

He watched you for just a moment, seeing the pleading in your eyes, before he glanced back at Drew. He was still smirking, watching this all like he enjoyed it.

It took every ounce of Rhett’s strength to let go of the man, taking a step away from him, but his hand was still balled into a fist.

Security arrived, but Trina waved them off, promising that she was handling it and that you were all leaving immediately.

Your hand stayed on Rhett’s arm the entire way back into the limo, past the paparazzi who had no idea what had just occurred upstairs, and even as the vehicle pulled away.

You squeezed at it three times, but Rhett couldn’t bring himself to answer.

❤︎

The limo had been dead silent the entire ride back home, and not the comfortable kind of silence.

The second you were parked, you handed Rhett the keys to the front door, and he was gone in seconds, tearing up the steps and into the house without ever looking back.

It was then that Trina gave you an earful. She spewed every word in the book toward you about Rhett, calling him “reckless” and a “liability,” talking about how dangerous that stunt he pulled at the studio was.

“Drew’s manager assured me that he’s having every single person that witnessed what happened sign an NDA right now, we don’t need this kind of press before the premiere tomorrow,” Trina sighed, running a hand down her face as she shook her head. “Look, I know I’ve never been Rhett’s biggest fan, but…that was so out of line, honey. I expected more from him; his actions were, frankly, very disappointing-”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that, Trina,” you snapped immediately, shooting a glare her way as your hand rested on the handle of the door, seconds from slamming it open and stalking away from her. “I don’t know what happened, but I know for Rhett to act that way, then Drew had to do some pretty nasty shit. So don’t fucking act all high and mighty and call him disappointing when you and I both know that Drew isn’t the saint you like to paint him to be.”

Trina was silent for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes, before she simply nodded her head.

“Well…I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to get you both for the premiere, then. Please, don’t be late,”

You didn’t say anything back to her, simply slammed the limo door on your way out, and slammed your front door and locked it behind you, too.

The house was quiet, and you hated it. Slipping your shoes off by the front door, you took the steps up to the main floor, tossing your clutch and phone onto the dining room table, right next to that manila folder from the morning. You passed by the kitchen windows, shutting both the blinds and the curtains as you went.

Rhett sat in the living room. His boots were already discarded across the room, his button-down half unbuttoned, as he leaned back against the couch, simply staring up at the ceiling. You moved past him without a word, shutting the living room blinds and curtains as well.

You turned back to Rhett, rocking on the balls of your feet for a moment, just watching him in silence.

“Anything you want to say?”

Rhett huffed out a laugh, running a hand down his face.

“Not sure what you want me to say,”

“You can start by simply explaining whatever the fuck that all was,” you threw back. “You shoved him into a pole and almost punched him, Rhett. Backstage, where an entire crew of people could see and could’ve recorded!”

“Yeah, well,” Rhett muttered, still not looking at you. “He had it coming.”

It was your turn to laugh, shaking your head incredulously.

“Rhett Abbott, you’re going to have to do better than that-”

“What do you want me to say?” Rhett sat up fully this time, looking at you finally. You couldn’t quite decipher what emotion it was swimming in his eyes. “He’s a prick, I’d rather deal with the Tillersons any day of the week. He’s self-centered, arrogant, and he makes me want to shove his head through a wall. That good enough for you, darlin’?”

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” you shot back, pointing in his direction. “I’m not the one you’re pissed at right now.”

“No, I’m pissed at him!” Rhett threw his hands outward before tugging at the collar of his shirt. “He’s so fucking in love with you, and it pisses me off.”

You scoffed, taking a few steps toward the couch.

“Drew Livingston isn’t in love with me-”

“Yes, he is-”

“No, Drew Livingston has a track record of going after his co-stars, especially the ones that are taken,” you shook your head as you took another step toward the couch. “He likes the chase of it all.”

“That’s why you confide in him?” Rhett shot back, turning to look at you again. “Let him wipe your tears when you’re sad on set? Buy you gifts, like that necklace?”

“What, he told you all this so you just decided to believe him?” your eyes shot wide, and when Rhett didn’t respond, you knew the answer. You couldn’t help but laugh again. “He is a prick, Rhett, I have always thought so. When I am sad on set, or sad anytime, really, I call you and only you. That man has never once comforted me; he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Everything he’s ever bought me? Given straight to Trina to donate to charity. That necklace stunt he fucking pulled tonight? I shoved it straight into Trina’s hands and warned her that if he doesn’t fuck off, then I don’t care how much I love these books, I’ll break my contract and refuse the sequel.”

Rhett got quiet then, eyes cast to the floor. You watched the way his hands wrung together in his lap, the incessant tapping of his foot against the floor, and your heart broke all at once, every ounce of anger in your body dissipating in a second when you noticed those nervous tics of his.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out after a moment, taking a deep breath, your voice light as you spoke. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

His head shot up then, a confused look written across his features, mixed with his anxiety.

“Darlin’, why are you sorry?”

You threw your hands out, gesturing to the entire house you stood in. “Because I did this to us. I chose this life, I thrust you into this world that’s so messy and so complicated, so that I could chase my dream. I…I made it so hard to love me, and I’m so sorry for it.”

It must have been something in what you said, but you could almost see any of the anger left in Rhett disappear at that moment, too.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a deep breath, hands still wringing together, as he shook his head.

“Loving you…it’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, darlin’. Always has been, always will be. It’s being worthy of you…that’s the hard part,”

Quiet settled over the room again before you walked forward, sitting on the coffee table directly before Rhett. His legs parted on instinct, letting you sit directly between them.

You laid a hand on his knee, and his eyes met yours.

“Baby, where’s this coming from?”

Rhett got quiet. It wasn’t unusual for him to get quiet, especially when talks such as this were on the table. Rhett hated discussing his feelings, always afraid to say the wrong thing and fuck up, no matter how much you promised him he could never fuck up with you.

Your gaze trailed over his hands as they cupped yours, lifting it from his knees, cradling it against his lips as he left a gentle kiss against each knuckle of your hand. He sighed, his breath ghosting over the spots he kissed, before his eyes locked with yours again.

“It’s coming from that asshole,” another kiss to your hand, and your fingers flexed, just barely brushing over and caressing his jawline and the stubble that lined it. “He…he called me a disappointment. Said you were going to wake up one day and see me for what I was. I…I have nothing to offer you, sweetheart, yet you stay with me.”

Quiet settled over the room again. You wiggled your hand free of his hold, sliding it up so you could fully cup his jawline, that stubble scratching into your palm. Rhett still held your wrist now, turning to kiss your palm gently, and your heart broke at the sight.

“No money, no support, no future,” he continued before you could speak again. “Can’t provide for you, can’t be there to support you. I…can’t even buy you the ring I’ve always wanted. Couldn’t even run away with you like we planned, can’t do anythin’ right. You deserve…so much more than this.”

Something in his words sparked something in you. You sat up straighter, tugging your hand from his hold, before disappearing into the kitchen.

When you returned just a moment later, that manila folder sat in your hands. Rhett’s eyes followed you every step of the way as you stepped over his leg, fully standing between his open legs now as you slid the folder into his hands without a word. 

He didn’t say anything, just looked down and flipped it open. You could only watch him as he flipped through the various pages, the ones that held your signature, the photos, the glaringly obvious price shown on the first page.

“What…what is this?”

“This is a ranch. In Texas,” you flipped one of the papers back around, pointing down to the photos on it. “Over 800 acres of land, even a private lake. Large home, huge barn, horse stables, the whole works…I signed for it this morning. Sold this place two weeks ago, and I bought this ranch.”

Rhett glanced up again, astonishment written in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated it again as he tried to find the words.

“You bought this?” you gave him a small nod. “Why?”

“Because this was our dream,”

He didn’t fight you as you took the folder from his grasp, tossing it aside to the floor. Rhett leaned into your touch as your hands cradled his cheeks, thumbs ghosting over his skin, while his hands settled on the backs of your bare thighs, just barely under the hem of your dress.

“It’s a few years later than we wanted it to be, but I never forgot about our dream, Rhett. I’m doing what I love, but none of it’s worth a damn without the only man I have ever loved,” his lips quirked up, just barely, but you caught it. “Your worth is not, and never will be, determined by what anyone else says or thinks. Not Royal, not the entire town of Wabang, and certainly not Drew. I don’t want someone who thinks they’re worthy of the movie star persona that the world sees. I want the cowboy who used to pick me up when I fell off my horse, who would run across town in the middle of the night to see me, who used to pick me flowers off the side of the road just to see me smile. You’re worthy of me because I say that you are. You’re worthy of me because you’re the man who gave me a sense of home, even when I lost mine, and no one can ever take that away from you.”

You paused, thinking over your words for a moment.

“I don’t want a man who can give me the finest jewelry, or wear the most expensive suit. I want the man who confessed to me that he couldn’t offer me much…except to love me more than anything. That’s all I want.”

There were very few times that you had ever seen Rhett Abbott cry in your life together. The first time he’d ever lost a bull-riding competition, he’d cried in frustration, torn up by the comments from his father about how this ‘maybe wasn’t for him.’ The first time you both ever had a fight, when you were 15 and didn’t speak to him for three days, he cried when he finally apologized to you. You had cried too, as he stumbled through his speech about how you were his best friend, and if he lost you, he wouldn’t know what to do.

This was only the third time you had ever seen Rhett cry.

You didn’t hesitate to wipe away the tears, leaning in to kiss at the little streaks left behind on the apples of his cheeks.

The grip his hands held on your thighs tightened, and then, he squeezed them three simple times: I love you.

Your lips stretched into a smile against his cheek, before you left four little pecks to the corner of his mouth: I love you, too.

Rhett didn’t give you a second to think before he captured your lips in a kiss within moments.

It was the most natural thing in the world, kissing Rhett Abbott. And still, even now, it felt like the first time all over again. Your head tilted just slightly, lips rolling over his as his fingers left indents into the flesh of your thighs, teeth clattering against yours as he kissed you with every ounce of passion in his body. In that kiss, you could almost smell the air of the Abbott ranch, could picture the fireflies that floated around the air that night, and your gut twisted in memory of the feeling of his lips for the first time.

Whatever might have started innocently, loving, and passionate, went downhill very quickly.

Rhett tugged, and your body listened. Hands gripping the back of the couch behind him as you leaned in, you parted your legs easily, sliding them to bracket his hips and settle onto his lap. Your dress bunched up around your waist, leaving just the thing lingerie you had chosen for the night between your core and the bulge that was heaving against Rhett’s jeans.

His hands slid up, fully cupping your ass in each calloused palm, as he forced your hips to roll against him. A moan tumbled from your lips in moments, swallowed by his mouth as his tongue darted past your open lips, spit slick between your lips. 

Just one of your hands found its place in his hair, tugging on those long strands until a groan of his own tumbled from his lips. Rhett’s teeth caught your bottom lip, latching on just enough to leave a pleasurable sting in the feeling, before letting go with a slight pop. Your other hand found the buttons of his shirt, popping open the last few in order to slip your hand inside, letting yourself drag your nails over every inch of his skin you could get your hands on.

“Night before your premiere, darlin’,” Rhett muttered out against your lips, bucking his hips up into you as you continued to roll yourself against him languidly, eliciting another deep groan from him. “I had this whole plan before that prick ruined my day. Wanted to take my time with you. Make you fall apart. All about you…a reward for my perfect girl.”

“Save it for after the premiere, cowboy,” you breathed out, grinding yourself down as hard as you could, feeling that slight twitch from beneath his jeans. “You want the truth?”

“Always,”

“I have been embarrassingly soaked since the moment you threw Drew up against that pole,” Rhett’s laugh, his true and hearty laugh, not the one he huffed out under his breath, was your favorite sound to hear, and you never heard it often. It brought a smile to your face, a brighter one than you had worn all day. “No, seriously. It’s kind of insane how hot I found it. Last time I was that soaked without you even touching me was when you punched Luke Tillerson.”

“The time you bailed me out of jail?”

“What can I say?” it was your turn, nipping just barely at his bottom lip now, catching the slight catch in his breathing. “I guess I like a bad boy.”

Rhett kissed you again, harder, more passionately than he had before. The heat was prominent, burning in the pit of your stomach with every touch, with every pass of his lips against yours, with every taste of his tongue dancing just over yours.

Like a well-oiled machine, your bodies understanding one another in a way they’d never understand anyone else, Rhett had you back on your feet before him. His eyes never left you, his fingers gently taking the zipper of your dress and languidly tugging it down your spine, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver up your exposed skin.

You let the dress fall to a heap on the floor, no care in the world for the wrinkles or dirt that could cover it. Rhett’s eyes watched, pupils dilated, raking over every inch of your skin as if he was seeing it for the first time. You tugged the soaked, useless pair of panties from your body, tossing them to the ground with your dress before your bra joined it moments later.

Stepping back up to Rhett, he let his fingers ghost down your sides. Over the edges of your thighs, up the curve of your hips, to the swell of your breasts. He ignored them, though, even as your breath hitched at the contact. Instead, he tugged you down, pressing a kiss straight to the wire flower that still hung right in the middle of your chest.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but somehow, your heart burst with more love for your best friend, the love of your life, than you had ever felt before.

His shirt came off easily next, buttons already done as you helped him slide it off his arms. It joined your dress on the floor, now kicked somewhere under the coffee table. You heard the hitch in his breath again as you dropped to your knees between his open legs, hands expertly unlatching his belt buckle like you had done a thousand times before.

Rhett watched every movement you made. The ease with which you popped open the button of his jeans, slid the zipper down, and then tugged the fabric over his hips. He obliged with the movements, letting you tug them down his legs and discard them elsewhere in the living room. His cock twitched as you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the length with just the thin fabric of his black boxers separating you, before you tugged those off too.

You didn’t linger long, every inch and bone in your body aching and begging for him. Your body missed him, his touch, the feel of him, as if he were a drug and you were an addict.

Rhett’s hands found your hips once more as you crawled back into his lap, straddling him once again. He peppered every inch of your collarbone with kisses, nipping here and there before he’d blow on the spot, the cool air a stark contrast to the sting he left behind. With one hand back in his hair, nails stretching at his scalp, you slotted your lips back to his, before taking every inch of his throbbing length in your hand.

Every inch of his skin was heated, throbbing, and twitching in your hand, and you sighed into the kiss at just the feel of him in your palm. You already knew what came next, the familiar stretch of your walls as they took him in, and you craved every second of it. You needed it.

Without wasting another second, you lined him up against your already soaked core, sliding down every inch of his shaft with a practiced ease.

The stretch was beautiful: welcomed, desired by you. Your walls fluttered with every inch of him that seated itself inside of you, conforming to him like he was the missing piece to your puzzle, because he was. Rhett’s head found itself in the crook of your neck, kiss after kiss placed in the crevice, trailing up over the pulse point in the side of your neck.

Neither of you moved for a moment when he was seated fully inside of you. The only sound within the apartment was the shared heavy breathing between the two of you, and the small whimpers that fell from your lips with every twitch of him inside of you.

“I love you,” his words were whispered into your skin, hands digging into your hips, fingers surely leaving marks upon your skin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back against his temple, cradling him to your body with your hands wound around his shoulders, hands buried within his hair.

Then, you lifted your hips, just enough to leave an inch or so still within you, before you sank back down.

Whatever softness that was left in the room by your whispered declarations of love was gone in seconds.

With a steady rhythm, your hips rose and fell over and over again, hips meeting with a slap of skin that echoed through the quiet of the house. Whimpers fell from your lips with every drag of his cock against your walls, against that spot curled within you that had you clutching to him like a lifeline every time.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel like heaven,” Rhett moaned out, hands finding their way back to your ass as he helped you keep your rhythm. A moan slipped out of your mouth and into his as you brought him into another heated kiss, that coil of heat and euphoria already building in your stomach. That Wyoming drawl had always been heavy during sex, and God, did it do things to you that you couldn’t explain properly. “So perfect, riding me like the cowgirl you are. That prick doesn’t get to see you like this, doesn’t get to feel you like this.”

“No, Rhett, o-only you,” you choked out, almost crying into his mouth as he snapped his hips up into you. Your moan was swallowed by his lips once more as you tugged on his hair, grinding yourself down onto him as you dropped your hips to sit flush with him. “Only you get to–Jesus Christ–only you get to t-touch me. Get to fuck me. Just y-you.”

Your head felt dizzy, every ounce of your body flooded with lust as Rhett’s grip tightened on your hips, his hips now thrusting up in time to meet with yours. The pace of it all increased, every slap of skin sounding off faster and faster throughout the room as Rhett’s name rolled off your tongue like a prayer over and over again, the only thing you could think of.

“That’s right, darlin’, only me. All mine, you’re all–shit–all mine. Going to let me cum in you, huh? Let me fill you up?” the moan that tumbled from your lips was sinful, and Rhett’s laugh ghosted over your mouth, hips still snapping up into yours as every inch of his cock disappeared inside of you with every thrust. “What, you like that? Like the thought of carrying my baby, sweet thing? Want a little one running around our new ranch, our home?”

God, it didn’t matter what that man said, not when his accent was that thick and his voice was dripping with need like that. You’d do absolutely anything he asked of you.

“Oh my god, Rhett, please,” you fully kissed him now, mumbling that simple word–please–over and over into his mouth. “Please, baby, please. Fuck a baby right into me. P-Parade me down that carpet tomorrow with you still in me. Show that stupid asshole that I-I’m yours. Fuck me, fill me up, p-please Rhett.”

You didn’t need to beg a second more.

One of Rhett’s hands found your lower back, pushing you down flush with his chest. His hips shifted, just slightly changing the angle, before he held your hips in place and bucked up into you.

Every wanton cry of his name that tumbled from your lips was uncontrolled, your head clouded with lust and pure need as that coil in your stomach twisted over and over again. Rhett pummelled himself into you, rhythm be damned, hips slamming into yours with a passion that was sure to leave bruises along your skin, was sure to have you stumbling in your heels come morning.

“C-Come with me, darlin’. Let go, I got you,”

That was all it took, another few whispered words from Rhett’s lips into your air for that coil to snap. Your orgasm washed over you in a wave of pleasure, legs shaking from the pure euphoria that coursed through your system. Desperately, your hands clung to Rhett, head buried in his shoulder as you cried his name out over and over again, his hips still snapping into you with that same tenacious speed as before.

Your pleasure never seemed to stop, your body almost sagging against Rhett’s. The wave of pleasure peaked, dipped low, and peaked again with every snap of his hips, the corners of your vision fading to black as every second of pure pleasure gripped your body.

Finally, his rhythm faltered, and with just another slow, deep thrust, Rhett buried himself in you, his own moans washing through the air. His grip never let up, holding your body flush against him.

You felt it–the twitch of his cock within your walls–followed by that swirl of heat that formed within you with every gush of his cum that pooled inside your walls.

The air was heated, bodies slick with sweat, but neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment to want to remove yourselves from each other. The house was plunged back into quiet, leaving just the heavy breathing that labored from both of your chests as you tried to regain yourselves.

Rhett’s fingers danced over your spine, gently up and down, as you managed to dig your head out of his neck. Those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen in love with so many years ago looked up at you with so much love you thought your heart would burst, as you placed the gentlest and shakiest of kisses against his lips. He happily accepted it.

“You didn’t sell this couch with the house, right?” Rhett mumbled against your lips, and you could feel the way they quirked up into a smile. “I don’t think the new owners would appreciate it after…that.”

You laughed, breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath as you dragged the tip of your nose just barely against his.

“No, this one can come with us. Can live in the game room…a fun story for our future child about how they might have been conceived on it,”

“Don’t say shit like that, honey,” Rhett groaned, and you automatically felt his cock twitch inside you once again. “Not while I’m still in you, not unless you plan on making sure you go to bed pregnant tonight.”

All you could do was laugh, stealing another breathless kiss from the lips of the man you adored more than anything.

He broke away, peppering kisses to your jawline, down your neck, before reaching your chest. There, he placed yet another kiss right to the center of that wire flower.

You watched silently, thoughtfully. He pressed one, two, and then three small kisses right to the little design, before he pulled away. But his eyes never left that flower, and as your hand came up to touch it delicately, a thought crossed your head.

“You know, this little piece of wire kind of marks the start of our relationship,”

“Yeah, I guess it does,”

“Well…what if we repurpose it? Maybe, it can mark the next step instead,”

❤︎

The premiere for “For Those We Love” was in full swing. A whole plethora of celebrities were in attendance, walking the red carpet. Those who were simply invited, and so many that you had made friends with over your years in the industry, just here to support you.

Drew Livingston was thriving in the spotlight, waving to reporters and photographers who cheered his name, posing in place on the carpet right in front of the oversized posters of the movie right behind him as the backdrop.

The attention turned from him, though, and he heard your name called out by multiple reporters and photographers. An uproar from the fans, desperate to get a glimpse of you. Drew smirked, glancing down the carpet, waiting for your entrance.

There you were, just stepping out of your limo with Trina just off to the side. A dazzling image in a sky-blue, sparkling gown, the train dragging just barely on the carpet behind you. The neckline plunged down the valley of your breasts, and Drew found himself smiling as he followed the line of that plunge, taking in every inch of skin he could see. He even found himself smirking, noticing the absence of that little wire flower hanging from your neck like it usually was.

That smile dropped when you reached your hand back into the limo.

Rhett Abbott stepped out, clearly misplaced on the red carpet among the sea of Hollywood stars. There was no suit, not even a button-down shirt. No, he was in those same jeans, those same scuffed-up cowboy boots, and a flannel that Drew was sure he could see the dirt stains on from here. Worst of all, that worn leather Stetson sat on top of his head, further cementing himself as the outlier.

It was clear you didn’t care, though, and even more clear that Rhett didn’t seem to care. You smiled at one another, ignoring every single call of the reporters and photographers, too wrapped up in one another to care.

And when you turned, finally catching Drew’s eye, you didn’t hesitate to pluck the cowboy hat from Rhett’s head and place it on your own. Trina fussed in the background, something about your hair, and all Rhett could do was laugh boldly, locking eyes with Drew himself.

All he had to give was a cocky wink, winding his arm around your waist.

It wasn’t fair to say that Drew lost the game, because there hadn’t been one to begin with. No one in your eyes would ever compete with your cowboy, your bull-rider.

It was your eagle-eyed fans, days later, that noted the absence of your necklace from your neck. 

It was another few days before one of them finally zoomed in, pointing out the wire wrapped around your ring finger, and the matching wire wrapped around Rhett’s.

[em1i2a3]

Thinking about Rhett carrying you to bed after you’ve fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home from a week-long circuit

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader!

Author's note: Just wanted to make a little fluff piece because I've been stressing out all week about my practical lab simulation that's happening today. Writing this really took the edge off, and I hope y'all enjoy <3

The television had gone quiet sometime after midnight, its stale blue light still flickering across the living room without a sound. The cable box had shut itself off hours earlier, leaving nothing but a blank, glowing rectangle that cut through the dark.

Rhett noticed it the second he eased the front door open. The hallway stretched ahead of him in near-total darkness, the whole house holding that particular hollow quiet of a place already turned in for the night. Only the television’s leftover light reached this far. Then he saw your slippers abandoned near the edge of the rug–something that should’ve been with you in the bedroom–and finally his eyes settled on the uneven stack of quilts on the couch, with one of your arms hanging limply off the side.

You had fallen asleep curled on your side in a tight ball beneath them with your cheek pressed hard into the cushion instead of the pillow that had slipped halfway off the edge. The shirt you were wearing was his. He knew it by the frayed edges at the sleeves, the ones he had always picked at when he was thinking–removing the stray threads until they unspooled. 

The sight of you in it undid every ache that had been riding him since the last chute.

He was exhausted, his body spent from a full week of travel and competition that hadn’t let up once. Arena dust sat thick under his fingernails, and a deep bruise along his ribs had been spreading with every mile of the drive home. His wrist was throbbing steadily inside the brace he had put on before leaving the arena, and the long hours behind the wheel had settled into the muscles of his lower back until they screamed for a mattress to lay down on.

But looking at you made it all recede, even as he toed off his boots and crossed the living room toward the couch. 

A mug waited on the coffee table beside your phone–tea that had gone cold hours ago–and three messages from him still glowed unanswered on the screen when he tapped it awake.

Headed home.

Running a little late, lot’s of traffic tonight, think there’s an accident.

Don’t wait up, Sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.

Rhett lowered his head, a tired smile pulling faintly at one corner of his mouth.

“You never listen to me,” He murmured, lifting his hat off his head and setting it carefully beside the mug. Even through the pain he crouched beside the couch, as the floorboards under his boots giving a loud, familiar creak. He sucked in a sharp breath and held still, his eyes snapping at you for any sign that he disturbed your sleep. But you only shifted deeper into the cushion, your face turning further into the plushness of it.

Up close he could see the faint crease pressed into your cheek from the pressure, and the soft furrow that lingered between your brows, like some part of you had kept worrying about him long after sleep had taken you.

Rhett let out a quiet sigh and reached for you slowly, curling his dirt-dusted fingers so the backs of his knuckles could brush along the cool skin of your temple. He eased your hair away from your face so he could see you better–so he could take in the sight he had missed the most this week. His skin was rough, calloused in spots where callouses shouldn’t have been, but his touch was painfully gentle–the way it always was with you.

“Hey, darlin’,” He whispered, watching as your eyelids fluttered at the sound of his voice, even though they remained closed. Rhett dragged his knuckles slowly across your forehead, before bringing his hand down to cup the side of your face–his large palm dwarfing the size of it. You tilted into the warmth without waking–as if you were a sunflower and he was the sun–nuzzling closer like you had been waiting for this contact. He could feel his heart seize at that moment, stopping in the caverns of his chest at the way you responded to him regardless of your alertness.

He had spent the last seven days getting thrown around under bright arena lights, sleeping on narrow motel beds that never held enough heat, eating alone with the television running just to fill the silence. Every night without fail he would call you from a parking lot or those cheap rooms, pretending the sound of your voice was enough to make the distance bearable for him, but it had never been. Because nothing compared to walking into this house and finding you waiting for him like this–even if it was against his wishes.

“Should be in bed,” He said, though there wasn’t any real scolding in the comment. You made a quiet sound, a small hum, and your outstretched hand shifted until your fingers brushed his bicep beneath the soft cotton of his button-up. As if you were testing to see if what you were feeling was real, your touch slid down the length of his arm, closing loosely around the hard plastic of his wrist brace–though your fingers couldn’t touch.

“Rhett?” Your voice was thick with sleep, and he could hear the confusion lacing the edges of it, and his throat tightened at the relief he could sense beneath it.

“Yeah, baby,” He answered, stroking the soft skin under your eye with his thumb, “It’s me.” He confirmed. Your eyes opened only halfway, peeking out through your lashes, and for a long moment you just looked at him, completely dazed, as though you needed to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Then your mouth curved into a small smile.

“You’re home.” He nodded once, his hair falling out of it’s slicked back form while doing so.

“I’m home.” You hummed at that, as your eyes slipped shut again, but your fingers began to absentmindedly rub along the thick plastic of the brace, like you were trying to keep yourself from falling back to sleep.

“Took you forever.” You murmured.

“I know…”

“I tried to stay awake…Wanted to see you…” The words came out drowsily and soft as you made futile attempts to fight against the exhaustion that was plaguing you. Rhett smirked and leaned in, pressing his chapped lips to your forehead. He stayed there long enough to breathe you in–the faint scent of your honey shampoo and all the other hair products you piled on after a shower, mixing with the spicy, pine and woody cologne that he owned, all of it mixed with the unmistakable warmth of home, of comfort, of love.

“You’re seein’ me now,” He replied, easing back just enough to look down at you, noticing that your eyes were still closed.

“Barely.” You muttered, and a soft laugh escaped him.

“Well it would help if you would open your eyes, but I can tell you’re too tired for that…So let’s get you to bed, sleepin’ beauty.” He stood carefully, gathering the quilts tighter around you so nothing would fall as he was walking, tucking the fabric in until you were fully cocooned. Once he was satisfied with his work he slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, then lifted you off the couch slowly, making sure he wasn’t triggering the ache that was still pulsing in his back. Even with him keeping all his injuries in mind, his muscles and bruises still protested, but he ignored every one of them as he drew you close, feeling the heat of your body soaking straight through the fabric that separated the two of you.

Immediately, you curled into him, your cheek pressing against the hard muscle of his chest as you nuzzled closer into him, and without thought, Rhett’s arms tightened around you.

“Did you win?” You asked, the words muffling against the fabric of his shirt.

“Stayed on.” He answered as he began to walk.

“Wasn’t my question.” You shot back, and a small smirk tugged at his mouth at the quiet jab.

“Yeah…Yeah I won.” He said, glancing down to caught the soft smile that touched your lips.

“Knew you would.” 

The certainty in your voice made his heart clench. You had never doubted him–not once, not through any of the long sessions of training or the hard falls that you had beared witness to. You had watched him win enough buckles that he made most of these circuits look easy from the outside. But that never stopped the worry in you. The wrist brace along was proof enough that the work he put in took its toll, and you couldn’t yet see what was waiting for you under his clothes. But that would be tomorrow’s problem–you would nurse him back to health when he allowed you. Tonight you just wanted him–his presence, his body, his arms, everything.

Rhett carried you down the hallway with careful steps–mindful of how narrow it was–keeping you tucked securely against him so you didn’t accidentally knock against the walls. The navigation of the dark house was only amplified by the soft creak of the floorboard under your combined weights, and halfway to the bedroom your fingers found the greasy strands of his hair, tangling into them.

“Missed you,” You murmured, and Rhett’s jaw flexed at that, as he tilted his face down to rub his chin against the top of your head.

“Missed you too…So damn much.” 

There were things he had never learned to say easily, even after five years of being together. He could take a hard fall without making a sound. He could carry every expectation his family stacked on his shoulders without complaint. Tenderness, though, still sometimes caught behind his teeth like it was too fragile to risk letting out those feelings. But with you half-asleep and warm in his arms, the words came easier.

“Hated wakin’ up without you,” He said quietly, “And I definitely hated comin’ back to an empty motel room.” Your hand slipped from his hair and smoothed slowly down the side of his neck, resting your fingertips over the steady thunder of his pulse.

“You don’t have to now.” Rhett closed his eyes for a brief second and let out a long breath.

“No…I don’t.”

He crossed the threshold into the bedroom, angling carefully around the hefty basket that was stacked high with neatly folded laundry and the sharp edge of the dresser. When he reached the bed he pulled the covers back with one hand without ever letting you go, before lowering you onto the plushness softness of the sheets, putting in more care than he used for almost anything else in his life. But the second his arms started to ease away you made a small, protesting sound.

“I’m right here baby.” He promised, as he began to unravel you from the quilts, tossing them haphazardly on the floor, before crouching down to pull off your socks one at a time. HIs thumb rubbed slowly over the faint indentations each elastic had left around your ankles, kissing the marks, and nuzzling against them, feeling the way your muscles jumped at that. When he was finished he drew the duvet up to your chin and tucked you in, smoothing it around you.

Your eyes opened again the moment he was levelled with you, and he watched concern pull across your face–your brows drawing together, and your mouth parting slightly on a breath. You hadn’t seen the bruise blooming along his jaw when he had been crouched beside the couch, but now that you were in a room that had enough light–from the moon that peeked through the curtains–you were able to identify the purple shadow that stood out beneath the stubble. Your hand came out from under the covers and your fingertips traced the edge of it, watching as Rhett’s eyes closed at the contact and feeling him leaning into the touch even though the sharp pinch of pain made him flinch.

“You’re hurt,” You whispered, your voice cracking a little on the discovery. You wondered how this happened, but deep down inside you didn’t really want to know, especially when you weren’t there when it happened. He looked at you through his lashes, his blue eyes catching the light.

“Just sore…It’s nothin’ to worry about.” He replied, turning his head to press a kiss into your palm before easing back. If the exhaustion hadn’t already settled so deep in your bone you might’ve sat up and followed him–wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him back down so you could hold him. But as it was right now, the attempt died before it even started and you only managed another soft whine.

“Come back…” Rhett let out a short huff of a laugh and shook his head at you.

“Baby, I need a shower.” You mirrored him in those moments, shaking your head against the pillow.

“Tomorrow.” His brows lifted at that.

“Y/N, I smell like a stockyard and I’m covered in dirt.” You only shrugged at him.

“Don’t care, we can change the sheets tomorrow and I don’t mind if you smell bad.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“You will in about five minutes.” He mumbled, as you shifted under the covers to make room before opening them up toward him, quietly inviting him in the space you made.

“C’mere and I’ll prove you wrong.” There was no demand in your voice–only that soft, teasing affection that always managed to cut every argument out from him–and he gave in with a gruff sigh.

“Alright…It’s your funeral.” He stated, as he worked his belt open and unbuttoned his jeans, letting both of them fall into a careless heap he already knew you would give him hell for in the morning. The buttons of his shirt took longer as he undid them with one hand, before shrugging it off his shoulders to let it join the rest of the clothes. Once he was down to just his boxers he climbed carefully onto the mattress beside you, feeling your body moving in close immediately, dragging the duvet over the both of you. Rhett stretched his arm out so you could fully settle against him, as your leg slipped between his while you tucked your head beneath his chin. His body loosened the second your full weight rested against him, closing both arms around you–surrounding your body and covering you completely–sliding one hand up under your shirt until his palm pressed against the small of your back. 

Your fingers began tracing slow, idle patterns across his chest while you breathed him in deeply, letting his scent fill your lungs.

“You don’t smell like a stockyard…You smell sweaty.” You corrected him quietly, pressing your nose against the dark lines of the bull-rider tattoo over his heart and inhaling again on purpose, “Love that smell.” He hummed low in his throat and shook his head once.

“I think you’re so tired that your sense of smell has gone off its rocker.” You glared up at him, a small smirk curving your mouth, before leaning in to press a soft kiss right at the base of his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

“Maybe…But right now…I like it a lot.” Rhett sighed, clenching his arms around your body to embrace you even further.

“I told you not to wait up for me…If you hadn’t you wouldn’t have been so tired, and you wouldn’t be waking up smellin’ like a farm.” He said, and you hummed again.

“I wanted to be the first thing you saw when you got home.” You replied softly, feeling Rhett’s breathing halt for a moment beneath your head, as your eyes began to close again, feeling the heaviness of sleep washing over your body and invading your mind. You could feel Rhett’s hand slowly sliding upward, coming to cradle the back of your head. He gently tipped your face upward towards his and kissed your forehead, then the corner of your eye, then your cheek, then finally your lips. He kept it tender, and unhurried–touches that asked for nothing but made him feel like he was reuniting with you in a far more intimate way, like he wanted to complete it.

“You always are,” He whispered against your mouth, as he allowed you to settle back down against his chest again, and even through the haze of sleep that was about to overtake you, he saw the sleepy smile that draped across your lips before you fell asleep against him–finally in the comfort of your lover's arms.

[virginburial]

.·:*¨༺    tears.    ♱   rhett abbott   ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which the Abbott's nanny and Rhett Abbott take playing house a little too far, or, alternatively, in which Rhett Abbott is so responsible.

SHIP: afab!reader x Rhett Abbott

WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, and f (kinda) receiving oral, sub!reader, Rhett Abbott is just itching for a wife and you're begging for a husband. age gap mentioned but it's not a huge gap. strong breeder kink energy #BKE, barn sex (does that need to be a warning?), you guys kinda have playful banter before and after. it's giving porn with a plot. it's also giving forbidden romance with the "oh this bitch is our nanny" but it's more like domestic yearning turned freak off ;). you guys are also building a chicken coop together so labor warning? #idon'tdreamofdoinglabor

WORD COUNT: 6.1K

SONG: tears by sabrina carpenter "I get wet at the thought of you - being a responsible guy!"

A/N: hello sexies, it's me. I've returned with erotica of my favorite cowboy. I've been trying to be semi-regular with this account but life has been so busy lately. Rhett Abbott is literally... i be thinking about him and he makes me giggle. like a school girl with a crush. it's embarrassing. pls don't tell my boyfriend. so I had to write this. kinda in my man's best friend era. as always, reblogs, comments, likes, and shares are greatly appreciated!

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

Nannying for the Abbotts wasn’t easy work, but it was honest work. You come in at 8am every morning just to take Amy to school, and do household work until it’s time to pick her up. You only started working with the Abbotts after Rachel’s disappearance, or her willingly leaving, the jury was still out on which one it is. Perry Abbott hired you to be there for Amy until Rachel came back or was found. To be like a mother for her; nine months later, you still have a job. You felt for Perry, he was a working man and without Rachel around, it was hard to be a working man and a father. 

Good thing Rhett Abbott was around too. 

The (usually) irresponsible, rugged, and reckless Rhett Abbott was nothing of the sort when it came to his niece. She was receiving the princess treatment most women dreamed of having, and from someone who’ll love her unconditionally, nonetheless. Kindness that eventually extended over to you. At times, you and Rhett would drive to Amy’s school and pick her up, take her out, and get her ready for bed. It was hard to view Rhett as the bull rider, the occasional drunk, the dirty rancher. When he was around you and Amy, he was nothing short of a gentleman. 

It drove you up the wall.

Mainly because Rhett would pretty much do your job for you, which made you wonder why you woke up so early to be there in the first place; But also because Rhett was cheeky about his kindness. It was like you were Mary Poppins, and Rhett was the chimney sweeper that didn’t care about anything else but having a good time. Of course, you only thought this as Amy fell asleep on your lap while watching Mary Poppins. Always asking you for permission to do something as if you weren't an employee of the ranch. As if it wasn’t his home. Bastard. 

Rhett was one of the busiest people you knew. Growing up in Wabaang, you knew the Abbotts were hard working and didn’t care for nonsense. Yet, for some reason, and on most days, Rhett was caught up in doing things for you and Amy. It was easy to chalk it up to an uncle wanting to do something nice for his niece, wanting to distract her from whatever was going on with her father. It was harder to accept any other answer that could explain his playful, and sometimes, flirty nature towards you. Rhett has always had the biggest crush on that bank teller, Maria, he wasn’t going to fall for some twenty something year old playing house with his niece. 

Amy had been getting into buttonquails. Which was a problem for a while. Normal kids want dogs, or maybe a cat. Perry would’ve been fine with a bunny or something. But buttonquails? It seemed absurd. You understood, especially after seeing some pictures of the fully grown birds. Perry gave her the thumbs up, said that it was perfectly fine to have maybe two or three quails. Then Rhett went and ordered five quails, and has been helping Amy raise them in the incubator while you watch from the clothesline, folding laundry. God, no wonder Maria was all over Rhett, look how gentle he is with Amy, and with the quails (conveniently named the Chicks after…well, the Chicks). The way he held them, the way his sleeves were rolled up, with his jeans covered in dirt and the sun glistening on his sweaty arms; such a hard worker. What a good, honest man. So…responsible.

Yes, Rhett Abbott was driving you up the wall.

And today was no different, Amy was at a friend's house and you were stuck doing the dishes. From the corner of your eye, you can see Rhett’s truck pull in, and your eyes followed him as he got plywood from the back of his truck and took it to the barn. You hate to admit that you were watching him a bit too closely, because your eyes met briefly, and when they did, he signaled you to come over. Your facial expression gave off annoyed, but deep down, you were elated. You washed the soap suds off your hands and stepped outside; wearing a blue gingham top, jean shorts with stars on them, brown cowboy boots, and your hair flowing in the wind.

Rhett smiled over at you and held up the plywood. “Hey lady.” he smirked. “Guess what I got.”

You cross your arms. “Let me guess, arrested?” you joked. 

He shook his head. “I ain’t even gon’ argue with you about how dumb that was, too psyched about this.” he pulled out cans of paint. “Y’know how Amy’s growin’ fond of the Chicks?” he asked, and you nodded. “Well, the Chicks are gettin’ big. We don’t got a coop for them yet, so I'm gonna build one for her, paint it pink.” He said with a grin, getting a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to you.

You examine the page, seeing a drawn out coop in crayon. You smiled softly. “She was telling me about the petal pavilion.” you hummed. “Yeah? Well, I'm gonna make it a reality for her. Gonna be a sweet surprise. You’re…more than welcomed to help out.” Rhett offered, his brown eyes staring over as he tipped his hat. God, always taking Amy into consideration, always wanting to make sure she’s happy. Being so paternal. It does something to your stomach. You hand him back the drawing. “Can’t today, cowboy. Got laundry to do.”

“Cmon, it needs a woman’s touch.”

You could think of a couple of other things that needed a woman’s touch, but you divulge. “I’m serious, Rhett. Perry’s out doin’ god knows what, and your folks are out of town. Maybe later when it’s time to paint it.” you hummed. 

Rhett nodded. “Alright, whatever you say, lady.” he sounds a bit defeated. “If you need any help again with feeding the quails, don’t be afraid to ask. The last thing I need is for you to get stressed out even more without Amy being here.”

You scoff. “I know how to feed quails, Rhett.” your voice slightly raises as he walks away from you, a small smile overcoming you as he whipped around. “Whatever you say, lady!” he yelled back with a smile, disappearing into the barn. Lady. It got on your nerves, even if it was endearing. To be fair, you were years younger than him. When he was a senior in high school, you were a freshman. Now you’re twenty something and he’s pushing thirty. If anything, you could yell back ‘whatever, old man.’ Yet, it didn’t feel right. Whatever. You turn back around and walk to the home, trying to finish up your chores before you have to go pick up Amy from her friend’s house.  

In the back of your mind, however, all you could think about was Rhett building that coop. That red flannel fit him perfectly, so did those Wrangler jeans, fitting so perfectly around his hips. He smelled like saw dust, yes, but also pine. Was he using pine wood for the coop? Or was it cedar? You couldn’t help but stop to think about how his eyes twinkled at you when he asked for your help. A big man like him could do it on his own, but it was just more sweeter than he wanted you there. 

And when you were doing the laundry, and got the first load into the wash tub, you couldn't help but get a whiff of his cologne. When you were doing the dishes, you couldn’t help but notice how he put everything away before you got there. When you were cleaning the front of the home, near the door, you couldn't help but look at old family photos of the Abbotts; when they were all younger. Rhett was a bit of an ugly duckling, a funny looking kid…God, you wanted one. 

You ovulating wasn’t helping your cause. 

You weren't seriously attracted to Rhett Abbott though, right? You couldn’t be. Maybe just for today, hopefully…?

You hadn’t been with anyone for a while either, not that you didn’t want to be celibate, Wabaang is just a small town where gossip spreads fast. Aside from a few eligible bachelors, there were the Tillersons. It would be beyond conflicting if you slept with a Tillerson boy while working for the Abbotts, considering their feud. It sucked that Rhett wasn’t one of those eligible bachelors you could muck around with.

Later in the afternoon, you passed by the barn with a basket full of wet laundry. The clothesline was next to the barn, since Mrs. Abbott's herb garden was next to the home. You glanced in the barn and saw Rhett hammering in a nail, while another hung from his lips. His flannel was off now, and he was left in a white wifebeater. Sweaty, tanned, lifting things, setting things down, hammering, hammering, hammering. You were pretty much drooling before catching yourself spying on him. You knocked on the barn door and smiled, setting the basket of wet laundry down. 

He glanced up at you, a tight smile forming as he took the nail out of his mouth. “Hey lady.” he hummed. “Was just thinking about when you were gonna come out here, you off to get Amy any time soon?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “Maybe in like an hour or two. Why? What do you need?” you saunter over to the nearly finished coop. It was actually impressive how much he got done in such little time. He chuckled softly to himself. “Why you always thinking I need somethin’ from you?” 

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” you chirped. 

Rhett smirked to himself. “Sure, maybe.” He looked down at his boots. “Help me paint the coop.” he stated, more as a demand rather than a favor. “I know I know, you’re busy with the…” he waves his hand around. “The laundry, but Amy will appreciate this a lot more than having the laundry done.” he joked. Touche. It would mean a lot to Amy if the coop was done when she got home. The look on her face would mean everything to the both of you. So you turned over to Rhett, and gave him a weak smile. “You’re right, I got nothin’ better to do.” 

“That’s the spirit.” His voice rang, almost sounding too cheery to be out of kindness and more from excitement. He reached over for the plastic paint pans and poured a light pink shade into them, handing you a small paint brush before dipping his own in the paint. “Never get to really talk to you without Amy around, just wanted to thank you.” he turned to you. Thank you? Since when you were ever thanked for anything around here. Sure, you were paid handsomely for your time, but never out right thanked. You listened intently as Rhett continued. “Perry was a mess when Rachel…well.” he sighed softly. “He was against gettin’ help, thought he could do it all on his own. If it wasn’t for mama and I pushing him to hire a nanny, he would be drivin’ himself crazy.” 

“It’s the least I could do, I can’t imagine a child losing a mother like that.” you said as you swiped the paintbrush across the wood. “You’re pretty good with her, never thought you had a soft underbelly like that.” you joked, hoping that it would land. 

He chuckled. “Well, now you know.” he smiled at you. “What, you thought someone like me couldn’t be levelheaded and calm n’ shit?” he nudged towards you. 

You shook your head. “I’ve seen you get into a bar fight once with a Tillerson over a football game, so no, I didn’t believe you could be levelheaded and calm n’ shit.” you sarcastically jabbed. “I’m…glad I was wrong.” you said softly. 

“Wait, what was that?” he turned to you, giving you the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen. You already regretted telling him that. You sighed. “Don’t make me take that back, cowboy.” you declared, not wanting to hear Rhett gloat about every good deed he’s ever done. But it was too late, Rhett was already buttering himself up. “I think you said you were wrong about somethin’.” he smirked. Why did he have to look at you that way? It made your stomach churn, your cheeks red, and your blood rush to all sorts of sensitive places. 

“Look, all I said was that you were pretty good with your niece, that’s bare minimum.” Yet, you couldn’t help but be in awe over it. 

“Yeah, it’s practice.”

Practice? You cocked an eyebrow as your arm stopped painting for a second. “Being an uncle and being a father are two very different things, Rhett. That’s like if I thought being a nanny was great practice for being a mom.” you clarified. “You never gave off the impression that you wanted children in the future or to even be married. Does Maria know?”

You saw Rhett's demeanor change, he cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, halting his own painting in the process, as his shoulders slowly slumped. “Maria and I…” his voice faded softly. “We didn’t work out.” he kept it short. 

“Rhett…” you spoke softly. “I’m…sorry, I didn’t know-”

“-It’s fine, lady.” He scratched the back of his neck, starting to paint again. “Seriously, we just wanted different things outta life. She’s movin’ to Boston and, well, my life is here. Can’t uproot my life for a woman who doesn’t want what I want. Make the same mistake Perry did with Rachel.” he turned to you. “Besides, Amy can’t lose anyone else.” God, so loyal. Surprisingly reflective. “It’s nice you know what you want, feel like most boys my age won’t ever know what they want.” you expressed. 

Rhett lightly laughed. “Yeah, that’s what bein’ in your twenties is. Never got that luxury though. Always knew what I wanted. Just feel like I’m runnin’ out of time to meet the person I wanna be with. Created a reputation for myself that can’t just be erased overnight.” he shrugged. You scoff. “Men can have babies until they’re like 90, you don’t gotta worry about time, you got your whole life to be a father.” “Yeah, but aint no way I’m getting to 90 alone.” he rebutted. “I want a wife.” 

You blushed at how blunt he was, how serious he was, how…”that’s responsible of you.” you gulped softly. “Figured you’d go down the baby mama route.” 

“Hell nah.” he clicked his tongue. “My woman is gonna have a ring on her finger, she’s going to be taken care of. We’ll hire another nanny so if she wants to work, she can. Joint and separate bank accounts, but she’ll never have to worry about the bills. I’ll make sure she lives a comfortable life. Hell, I’ll build us a house with my own two hands before I’ll ever let her rent some shitty duplex downtown. I’ll do everything around the house like put the dishes away or something just to make her life easier.” he proclaimed. With each passing sentence, your cheeks turned more and more red. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. “What’s the point of everything if you ain’t got someone worthy to share it with…”

You nodded. “I get that…” you answered. “I knew how much you liked Maria, so I can’t imagine how sucky it is to lose someone you thought you were going to be with in the long haul. But it’s just like how my grandma told me; if one man won’t, another man will…well, woman, in your case.” 

“Easy for you to say, lady.” he hummed. “You’re just as young n’ dumb as the boys you complain about. You’re free to mess up. I’m too old for that.”

Oh? That offended you. “But I know what I want.” You snapped back. 

Rhett raises an eyebrow. “Really? This is news to me.” he shifted his posture slightly. “What is it that you want that boys your age can’t give you, huh?” he asked. 

“Commitment.” you spoke. “Stability. Loyalty.” you listed off, watching Rhett’s face fall slightly. “Because believe it or not, Rhett Abbott, you’re not the only one in Wabang that wants those things, and feel like finding them here is impossible. I want a husband and a father just as badly as you want a wife and a mother.” you hummed. 

Rhett bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows. “You? A mother?” which warranted a reaction from you. “What? You don’t think I can? You’ve seen me with Amy-” “-you once told me that the best part of your job was giving Amy back to us and going home-” “-suddenly, I’m not allowed to tell jokes, Abbott?” you asked. 

Rhett put up his hands in defense. “Lady, I never said you’d be bad at it, or that I think you couldn’t be a mother. You just never expressed wantin’ that for yourself. When I was your age, I wasn’t thinkin’ that deeply about family and marriage like how I am now. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.” he reassured. “Well I guess we’re both surprising each other.” you nearly barked. “You know, I work five days-forty hours a week, practically being Amy’s mother, and half of the time I feel like I’m not really doing my job because you always insert yourself. You’re playing house just as much as I am-” “-Lady-” “-it all makes sense now, why you’re always around-” “-Y/N-” “-and here I was beating myself up because I can’t focus when you’re there, being everything I want in a man, treating me the way I'm supposed to be treated. There really is no point in trying with some other young dumb guy who’s apparently so much like me.”

Rhett looked like he got the wind knocked out of him, now he was the one with his cheeks red, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip, as you went back to painting the coop. The silence between you both stretched thin, as he looked straight at you, reading you, trying to process or gauge the situation at hand. As if you weren’t echoing his desires back to him, making passive attraction into a real possibility. He steps closer, looking down at you with a sense of longingness that you’ve never seen in his eyes. “That ain’t fair, Y/N…” he said softly. He gently grabbed the paint brush from your hand, skin brushing against each other as he kept his eyes on you. “I’ll finish this for you-” "-you don’t need to do things for me-” “-I always do things for you…felt like I was being obvious. I guess not.”

Your face flushed as you stared up into his brown eyes. You couldn’t help but feel the anxiety building up in your stomach, almost as if pining after him was going to pay off somehow, after convincing yourself that it was fruitless. Rhett’s eyes glance down at your lips. “What else do I gotta do…?” he said raspily. Maybe we’re on the same wave length, and just realized we could have that with each other. Maybe we were yearning for each other and didn’t know it. 

You stared up at him, feeling your skin burn hot as his gaze fell back to your eyes. You can see it in his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to have you in this moment before the moment was gone. Your fingers slightly brush on his arm, almost testing his boundaries to see what he really wanted: and when your soft fingers grazed his arm, that same arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. The smell of tobacco and pine filled your senses, as your hands fell on his sweaty chest. “What else do I have to do, Y/N?” his voice dips. “You think I don’t notice it? The way you look at me when I pass by you? The way you stare at me when I’m working?” he questioned. You tried to look away, but his other hand held your chin up, so you had no choice but to look at him. 

You were starting to feel crazy for how bad you wanted him to touch you. 

Your throat goes dry, you want to say something, anything. Maybe another witty comeback or a way to make the passivity last longer, when all you wanted was action. He looks at your lips. “Cmon, darlin’.” he spoke gently. “Use your words. I’ll do anything you want me to, you just gotta tell me.” 

Your face burns with embarrassment, wanting more than a kiss, wanting more than just a small moment, you feel yourself melt into him as he holds onto you tightly. “You have to stop driving me crazy like this, I work for your family-” “-God, but I want you, Y/N.” he confessed. “I’ve been wanting you since-” you couldn’t take it anymore, the thought about picking Amy up from her friends house, your responsibilities, slipped through your mind. Your lips crashed into his feverishly, as if you couldn’t imagine not leaving this barn without doing that. He doesn’t hesitate, he catches you in the kiss and gives back just as much energy. He finds himself grabbing onto you as if he could lose you at any moment. 

His lips softly morph into yours, as you pull away ever so slightly from the kiss. “I want you too-” you gasped out before he attached your lips to his again. He wasn’t letting you talk, not because what you had to say wasn’t important, but because he knew that if you said more, he was going to lose all self restraint. You do so anyway. “You’re so-so responsible-” “-I’m about to not be-” he confessed, before you interjected with. “-It makes me so wet for you the way you’re protective and-and consistent…”

He stares at you, a small smirk creeping onto his face as he grabs your neck and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue sweeping your bottom lip. He was such a good kisser, the way he made you feel safe to turn your brain off and just feel him. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, his hand slipping down your hips and grabbing your ass. A soft moan left you from how surprising his touch was, before feeling him lift you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands claw to your back as your kiss doesn't break, gently taking you to his work bench and sitting you down. “You have no idea how fuckin’ beautiful you are” he mumbled softly against your lips, his hand attached to your neck still, slowly drifting up to your cheek, cupping it. 

If only you could focus on what he was actually saying, instead, you were feeling his bulge rub up against your thigh, so you just nod along, feeling yourself get so turned on, that it was impossible to focus. “Mhm” you said back, eagerly kissing him back as your tongues brush past each other. You could nearly rip his tank top off, you’ve been wanting to do that all day. You feel yourself tug at it, pulling him in closer as he stumbles into you, his bulge pressing into your aching cunt. A groan left him. “Don’t do this to me so early, darlin’” he said. “I wanna make sure you’re ready for me.” as if the verbal sparring wasn’t enough for you.

You whined, thrusting your hips against his cock as he sucked in his breath. “Fuck.” he groaned. You persisted, soft whines escaping your lips as you tugged at Rhett’s bottom lip, feeling him trying to restrain himself from pinning you down, his breath shakes as he pulled away from the kiss. His fingers delicately go to your blue gingham top, which has been making him feral, and slipped off one strap, giving him room to place hungry kisses all over your neck. You smelled like cherries, he always loved that you smelled like cherries. 

He bites down softly on your neck, as his other hand went to your zipper; where he was delicate with the shoulder straps of your top, he was reckless and eager with the zipper of your shorts. He stares down at your shorts as he tries to slide them off, his heavy breath hitting your neck as your panties slowly got exposed; the cutest pair you had, and they were soaked. Rhett took notice of this right away, seeing your wetness smeared against your inner thighs. If you smelled like cherries, you had to taste like it too, right? 

Right as Rhett got on his knees in front of you, you stopped him, shutting your thighs as they shook from excitement. Rhett let out a frustrated huff, kissing your knee and looking up at you. “Cmon darlin, what’re you doin?” he asked. “Let me take care of you.” 

You hesitantly shook your head. “I want your cock in me, now.” you said almost dominantly. Rhett blushes hard, he’s not used to getting bossed around, but he liked it when it came from you. He stood up slowly, his eyes on you like he was worshiping you. He grabbed your hips tightly and cupped your face, his hand going down to your throat. “What was that, darlin?” he asked, matching your dominance. “Please…” you squeak out. “I need you in me…make me a mommy, pretty please…” you whispered, pleading with him. Making it clear that you didn’t want to waste anymore time. 

And he heard you, loud and clear. 

“Fuck…”  he groaned before kissing you, his hands busily unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, seeing his cock get trapped by his boxers as he slipped it past the fabric. Watching it spring up with need, and already seeing precum dripping from his tip. He was getting just as wet as you. He laid you back on the workbench, seeing sawdust and bits of hay float around you as he dove his head in between your thighs, his cowboy hat tipping back and falling off as he kissed and nipped your cunt. A shudder came out of you as you squeezed your thighs around his head. You didn’t want him to eat you, but he wasn’t gonna leave without tasting you. 

He licked your wetness that was plastered onto your thighs. “So fuckin’ wet f’me…” he groaned agaisnt your panties. “Wet for me this entire fuckin’ time.” he said to himself as he got up and slipped your panties to the side. His cock was so pretty, just ripe and twitching with need. His tip glided up to your cunt, and a loud moan escaped you. He was teasing you, teasing you even though you were aching for him. Your thighs shook with each glide. “You wanna be a mommy so bad, right darlin?” he huffed out. “Pretty lady like you deserves to get filled up every fuckin’ day.” he raspily said. Before you can even nod, and beg, and plead with him, he slowly slides the tip in. Even here he tries to be gentle. 

You gasped, feeling him stretch you out as his head falls forward, strands of his hair covering his face as he moaned out a loud ‘fuck’ before slamming into you. You feel your body tense up with need as he ravages your cunt, needing you just as bad as you need him. “So fuckin’ tight.” he hoarsley spoke. “Just like that, pretty lady.” he hummed. You couldn't help but feel your body jolt with each thrust. You can tell by the way he moves his hips how badly he’s been wanting you. Almost like he’s been holding back with everyone else and only wanting to go all out for you. 

He rolls his hips against you, feeling the base of his cock press up against your throbbing clit as moans keep spilling out of you. Your clit was sensitive, almost burning with lust and need. Rhett knew that, he wanted that. Without changing the pace, his thumb rubs circles on your clit as he breaks your pussy in. you don’t even sound like yourself, but you’ve never felt more like yourself. All you cared about was how Rhett was going to make you cum early if he kept going. 

“Y’gonna make me a daddy, darlin? Huh?” he groaned, thrusting harder and fully pressing his cock up against you, almost digging in your cervix with how deep he was going. “You gon’ let me fill you up, pretty lady? My pretty-” he thrusts harder. “-fuckin-” you squeal. “-lady.” he groans as drool runs down your chin. “Pretty dumb thing…” he whispers roughly. You had to be dumb to be drooling all over yourself like this, unable to say anything back without it coming out in mumbles.

“Imma make you…honest man.” you whimper out almost tiredly, yet needily.

“Yeah?” he breathes out. “Gon’ get you the prettiest fuckin’ ring.” he mumbles. “Build you a nice house. Make you my pretty wife. Get you everything you want.” he slams harder into you. Your moans turned into screams, and cries, as you nodded along to everything he was saying. “Don’t nod, I wanna hear you say it.” he grabs your chin and holds it. “Say you want it too, darlin’” he’s almost asking you to confess to him and validate him. And who were you to disagree? You wanted everything he wanted and more. 

You whimper as tears lined your eyes, you were already so close to cuming, this was going to push you over the edge. “You’re such…a good…husband.” you said between deep breaths. You didn’t care that he wasn’t even your boyfriend, not yet anyway, you just wanted him to know how badly you wanted everything spilling out of him. He blushed and slammed harder into you. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” he groaned out, keeping the fast pace as tears ran down your face. It felt too good. 

Rhett noticed the tears running down your face, a worried look overcame him as he slowed down, leaving you gasping. “No no no no no don’t stop-” you whined as more tears came down your cheeks. You cried out as you moved your hips against his cock, hoping for more momentum. He clicked his tongue and grabbed your face. “Awh.” he cooed softly, his free hand wiping a tear off your cheek. Your entire body was buzzing with desire as you whined harder, signaling him to keep going but not knowing if he would or not. It’s not like you were crying in pain, you were crying from how hard he was going, how good he was doing. “Pl-please-” you choked up as you looked into his eyes.

Rhett ran his thumb on your bottom lip, before he leaned in and kissed your cheek. Your breath stabilizes itself, trying to get him to touch you again. You were right there, so close to cuming all over him. It’s all you wanted. Then, Rhett’s tongue glides up your cheek, licking your tears off your face. He pulls you into a kiss, where you can taste the saltiness of your tears. His tongue gently slides itself against yours as he bumped noses with you. Tender kisses placed on your plumped, red lips. He pulls away. “Sorry darlin, I’ll be more careful with you…” he hums.

You furrow your eyebrows, not wanting anything to change. Right before you were about to plead with him to continue, he rams into you. A loud gasp left you as you screamed, arching your back against the wall of the barn, holding onto the edge of the work bench, and feeling yourself reach your high. You try to make it last a bit longer, but you know there’s no use, Rhett was working overtime to make you cum all over yourself. You jolted in pleasure as you looked into his eyes, raggedly whimpering out a soft. “Baby-I’m gonna cum-” 

Rhett smirked as he kept his pace. “That’s it, darlin’, that’s my girl.” 

You trembled as you felt your wetness slide down your thighs, a loud, high pitched moan left you as you held onto Rhett tightly. Strings of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘yes’ flew out of you as he kept fucking you. You became overly sensitive, each thrust making you cry from overstimulation as your cunt sucked him in more and more. Feeling your pussy squelch. But Rhett couldn’t stop himself; this is the messiest he’s seen you, and he wanted nothing more than to keep feeling how warm and soft you were for him. 

You went completely limp for him, the energy being zapped out of you as he kissed you softly. “You’re fuckin’ mine” he mumbled agaisnt your lips, his hips sputtering as he neared his end. “God, you’re fuckin’ mine…” he murmured. You, looking dazed and satisfied, nodded lazily. You meant to say ‘yes sir’ but all that came out was incoherent mumbles. You weren’t too sure about wanting something with Rhett. You always wanted to take things slow, but when it came to Rhett, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Rhett let out a loud groan as you felt his cock seize up in you, before feeling ropes on cum line your insides, you whined softly as he struggled to pull out, not wanting to because you felt so good, but not wanting to have that risk they were toying around with. His labored breath slowed as he kept thrusting in you. He couldn’t get enough. He gulped and groaned before finally pulling out, watching cum spill out of you. He looked over at you, sitting you up and scooping up the cum that was leaking out of you, before shoving it back into your aching hole. A soft moan left you, your cheeks bright red as you grabbed him and left a soft kiss. 

Both of your breaths slowed, and Rhett glanced up at you, pulling away from you as he lazily smiled. “Jesus Christ, lady…” he chuckled to himself. “If I knew you were that…god damn good at fuckin’...I would’ve had you a long time ago.” he joked. You couldn’t even say anything witty or sarcastic back, you just smiled back at him. “Yeah? Speak for yourself. I’ve heard rumors but I never thought I’d…you know-” 

“Yeah, I know.” Rhett pulled away completely. Stuffing his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans. He picked up his cowboy hat from the floor and looked over at you. “So damn good I dropped my hat.” he wiped the dirt off the hat and put it back on. “Does it stay on during sex?” you asked as you hoped off the table. Rhett smirked. “Do you want it to next time?” god yes, and maybe take off your shirt next time too, and maybe I’ll let you eat me out, and have your way with me not in a barn. Instead, you just shrugged, pulling your shorts up. 

As you got dressed, Rhett looked at his watch, then over at the coop. He sighed. “Bad thing is we never finished painting this, maybe we could finish it tomorrow? Surprise Amy with it later?” he turned to you. You fixed your strap and nodded. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Yet, there was a lingering feeling in the air, like you both could do a round two, or maybe even a round three. The way he was looking at you, with complete adoration, felt so nice. He wasn’t dismissing you the way boys your age do, instead, he took you seriously. And he treated you oh so well. You look over at him, almost hesitant to ask him something that’s been weighing heavy on your mind. “Hey Rhett?” you said softly. He turned over to you. “Yeah Y/N?” he perked up. The eyes don’t lie, and the way his eyes twinkled for you told you everything you already wanted to know. 

“When…” you started. “When you said you were doing things for me, it was because you like me, right?” you asked. Rhett chuckled. “No, I was just talkin’ about making you my wife while I was balls deep in you as a joke.” he hummed. “Yes, I like you, lady. Some might even say I like you a lot.” “So you'd do anything for me?” you stop in your tracks, holding your own hand as you anxiously bit your lip. 

Rhett looks at you, his face softening. “...yeah.” he confessed. “Anything you ask.”

You sigh in relief. “Good, can you pick up Amy? I never finished the laundry.”

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[spaceycat]

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✮⋆˙ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚘 .⋆˚࿔

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: angel by massive attack + horace andy (6:20)

✰ pairing: rhett abbot x fem!reader

✰ cw: (no use of y/n & proofread) smut, enemies to lovers, swearing, bratty!reader, brat tamer!rhett, pure filth tbh, car sex, p in v sex, fingering, tit play, oral fixation if you squint, multiple orgasms (f!recieving), reader on top, save a horse ride a WHAAT?? sweetheart, baby, sweet girl and bunny nickname when referring to reader

✰ word count: 2.3k+

✰ summary: you and rhett are enemies and have been for years, after he lost his rodeo you find him brooding by his truck you poke fun but it soon grows hotter.

✰ a/n: apart of the maria hate club

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ rhett ✪

You and Rhett locked eyes from across the tournament, you were sitting alone - almost like you came just for him. But he knew better, he knew that he needed to focus in. He had to win this, but your eyes made him falter. He found himself staring back at you a few times, he hated you, sure. But god the way you smirked at him made him crumble.

After the bullride, Rhett was ushered of the field - he scored, but he scored low. Faulty bull, is all. He packed up his things, silently hoping that you conveniently weren't watching him eat shit just before. He placed his things into the backseat of his truck, when he heard gravel against boot.

"You took quite a tumble out there, cowboy." He practically heard the smirk in your fucking voice. "What do you want." He said it more maliciously than he wanted, but you were mocking him at the wrong time. His eyes were locked in on his truck, as he sifted through his bag for something. You leaned against his truck, "To poke a little fun, is all."

"Now's not a good time." "It's always a good time, Rhetty." "Don't call me that." He finally turned to face you, his arms crossing. You stepped closer to him, reciprocating the same body language - crossing your arms. "Your attempts at intimidating me are as good as your bull-riding skills, so that's not sayin' much." You flicked back his hat as you spoke. He grabbed your arm, "Don't fuckin' test me right now, sweetheart." You faltered a bit, his grip strong."You were starin' at me from across the field, did I make you mess up?" "In what world?" "Do I make you nervous, Rhett?" You'd step closer. "Quite the opposite." "Mhm, I bet." A smirk was plastered onto your face. You'd pull your wrist away from him, "Careful now, cowboy."

You'd step away, moving to walk off - feeling Rhett's eyes on you. When he suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, practically pulling you back to him. You let out a noise of surprise as he kissed you.

You soon melted into the kiss, Rhett pushing you up against the side of his truck. Rhett forced his tongue into your mouth, tilting your head up to accommodate for the height difference between the two of you. The kiss was all teeth, tongue and spit. Pent up frustration coming through.

Rhett broke the kiss before opening the door to his truck, "Get in." "What?--" "I said get in, sweetheart. Need to fuck this out of my system." You'd settle into the truck without another word, watching as Rhett crawled in after you - closing the door behind him from any prying eyes.

He'd pull you into his lap, hands moving up the sides of you - you giggled a bit, taking off his hat. "Need to blow off some steam huh?" "Yeah and put you in y'r goddamn place, got quite a mouth on ya." "Want me to use that mouth?" "I want you to shut the hell up." Rhett wove a hand into your hair, tugging you into another kiss. Teeth clashing against each other, as he made work on your jeans as you shrugged off your jacket.

His mouth moved down to your neck, as he shoved down your jeans to your thighs. He bit into your neck, running his tongue over the bites as a silent apology. His calloused hand dragged down your body, slipping underneath your panties - thick fingers finding your clit.

He pulled back from your neck, resting his head back against the head rest as he watched your reactions eagerly. "There you go, bunny. Already so wet for me." He'd murmur, pushing two fingers into you with ease. He'd make work of you, moans spilling from your mouth as Rhett found that spot inside you almost immediately, fuck. "Yeah, right there? That feel good, doesn't it?" He tilted his head at you, the teasing evident in his voice. You couldn't voice your pleasure, so you just nodded - moans leaving you. Of course he'd be experienced, you wanted to feel his fingers inside you all the time if you could. Hips bucking against his hand as you rested your head against his shoulder, fucking his fingers into you as you practically rode his hand there in the backseat of his truck.

"I hate you." You let out a soft moan. "Yeah?" His palm was now grinding into your clit, your hand immediately going to his shoulder to stabilise you. Your orgasm found you quickly, he placed a hand around your waist - coaching you through it. Moans spilling from your mouth, Rhett moved to cover your mouth. "Shh, bunny.. you dont want people hearin' now?" As you came down from your high, Rhett pulled you closer, "You still got some more in ya?" "Can't leave you pent up now can I, cowboy?" Your hands made quick work of his belt, hands shaking slightly from your previous orgasm.

Rhett's hands covered yours, "I've got it." He chuckled, unbuckling his belt - tossing it somewhere else in the car. Unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his thighs.

You'd notice the very obvious tent in his boxers, he was big. Bigger than you thought. You wondered if he'd let you suck it, atleast once - if this thing you were doing was going to continue. "You still with me?" "Mm-- mhm." You'd nod, fingers dragging down his abdomen to the bulge. You'd toy with the waistband, just for a few seconds - just to confirm that this is actually happening. Then your hand dipped beneath it, pulling down his boxers down to his knees.

His cock bobbed against his stomach, the tip already leaking pre-cum, a bit of it landing on his stomach. The tip swollen, red and angry.

"Condoms in the glovebox." Rhett murmured, a hand resuming it's spot on your waist as you turned around on his lap, your back now facing his front. Leaning over in the car into the front seat - adjusting yourself to open the glovebox, practically on your knees.

"You really need to clean out your glovebox." You mumbled fishing around it before finally finding a condom. You settled back into Rhett's lap, turning around so you were now facing him. He took the condom from you, ripping it before placing it onto his hard cock. "I didn't force you into my truck for you to complain more." A smirk on his face, as he placed his hands back to your hips. "All good?" You'd nod, "Gonna have to give me words, baby. Or did I make you cum that hard?" Another tilt of his head. "Yes-- god yes." "There we go.." He'd muttered.

Rhett's hands moved to the button up shirt you were wearing. You'd swat his hands away. "C'mon, not even a peak?" "Gonna have to pay extra for that." He'd simply pout, "I bring you into my very comfortable truck and I let you cum on my hand and you wont even let me have the pleasure of seeing your tits? Plain criminal." Rhett placed a hand to your cheek, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. "C'mon, sweetheart... I'll make you feel so good." You let out a breath at his promise, "Fine. I'll hold you to that though." Then, a smirk, "Thank you," Rhett placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, hands working at the buttons on your shirt - pushing it off your shoulders with your help. His hands expertly unclasping your bra, slowly pulling the straps off you. Placing kisses to your neck and collarbone as a thanks. He looked down at you, "Fuckin' gorgeous.." He'd mutter more to himself, cupping one of your tits - a cold thumb slipping over the perked nipple, earning a soft whimper from you. He took your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling against the hard skin. You placed a hand into his hair, egging him on - pulling at the soft curls.

You could only imagine how his tongue would work between your thighs, you could only imagine a lot of things with his man who previously hated you sitting in front of you now sucking on your tits.

Rhett pulled back a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your tit, he looked up at you - a lopsided smirk on his face. "If I don't fuck you now, I am going to lose my mind." He placed his hands to your ass, pushing you further onto his lap. The tip of his cock grazing your soaked core, learning a groan from the both of you. "That makes two of us." You leaned forward, capturing him in another heated kiss as his strong hands directed your hips for you to sit down directly on his cock, feeling unbelievable full. The moan you let out soaked up by the kiss as he smirked against your lips. "Th're you go, bunny.. s' good, doing s' good just for me." Rhett muttered against your lips. You pulled back a bit, looking down at where you two were connected, Christ he was big. "You alright, baby?" Rhett placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. He looked concerned, not a look you commonly saw on Rhett Abbott's face. "Y-Yeah.. you're just, it's big." You wanted to smack that egotistical smirk off his face, "Big, yeah?" He tilted his head. "Don't be a dick." "Well you're riding mine." You felt him twitch inside of you, earning a small whimper from you.

You took a moment to collect yourself, get used to the sensation of your enemy's cock buried to the hilt inside of you. "O--Okay, I'm gonna start moving." "Be my guest." Rhett leaned back as you started to move your hips, moving forward and back first - building the pace. "Jesus-- you're so tight.." He looked down to where the two of you were connected. You started to move your hips upward, Rhett's hands moving to wrap around your waist - hoisting him up for the two of you to be chest to chest, his own hips bucking up now meeting your rhythm.

"I hate you." You said between high pitched moans. "Hate you too, baby." You felt that sensation deep in your belly again, overstimulating yet soothing. Rhett knew that too by the way you were clenching around him. "Y' close, sweet girl?" His hand snaked between your two hot bodies to have his thick fingers work in circles against your clit. You could only nod with this new pleasure, head resting against his shoulder. His other hand moved to weave into your hair, tugging gently as he tsked. "Nah, bunny. Look at me when you cum, I wanna see it." Because of course he did, he wanted to see the girl that he argued with for years cum like it was her first time, because of him. Just needed that ego booster. Your mind was completely turned off at this point, your thoughts just filled to the brim with Rhett - in more ways than one. The way his dark blue eyes watched you, his thick fingers working against your swollen nub, and his cock pushing into you and filling you ever so deeper. Your mouth open as moans and whimpers poured out, if people didn't hear you before. They sure as hell did now. "C'mon, cum on my cock." That deep southern growl in his voice was the last thing you needed to tip over the edge, hands gripping as his chest as you came around him, earning a groan from him as you tightened. As you came down from your high, Rhetts hands caught you from falling into him, then you realised Rhett still hadn't cum yet. That fire still in his eyes, your cunt was overstimulated but a front row seat to Rhett Abbott being ruined by your pussy was too good to give up. He tightened his hands around your waist, switching your position for you to be laying down on the carseat. Rhett overtop of you as he fucked his cock into you, his face planted in his neck - peppering kisses there. You whined from overstimulation. "I know-- god, I know baby.. just.. give me a minute, okay?" His words muffled by your neck, you then weaved your fingers into his hair - deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine. Pulling his head back as you looked into his eyes, you saw the smallest amount of drool in the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide as his hips didn't let up, in fact fucking into you faster - but his hips soon faltered, with one last thrust he came into the condom.

You both just laid there for a moment, catching your breaths as realisation set in. Rhett pulled back, looking down at you - chest heaving. You simply looked up at him, your hand still in his hair. You pushed yourself with the remaining energy you still had, pulling him into a kiss by his hair. This one wasn't heated like the others. It was soft, promising. Promising that there was something more to this. You then pulled back, smiling against his lips. "What?" A breathless chuckle left him. "I actually came over to your truck before to tell you that the guy who placed above you got disqualified." "..What?--" His eyes widened. "You're going to the semi-finals, Abbott." "Why didn't you tell me?" An evident smile on his face. "Because I wouldn't have gotten fucked if I did." A beat of silence, he'd laugh - placing his head on your shoulder. "I hate you." "I hate you too."

[houseofaegon]

can I put in a request for Rhett Abbott x Reader? They’re in his truck since they were “star gazing”but a hot steamy make out ends up with reader riding him and before he finishes, reader goes down on him.

DEAD OF NIGHT ╱ RHETT ABBOTT X FEM!READER

"you wake me up, you say it's time to ride in the dead of night"

+18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪  no use of y/n, fluff, explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m!receving), best friend!rhett, dirty talk, explicit language, praise kink, grinding, save a horse ride a cowboy!!!! mention of unrequited feelings, mutual pinning, sexual tension, friends to lovers trope, stargazing under the wyoming sky with rhett!! <3

SUMMARY: you didn't really plan on spending tonight anywhere but in bed, binge-watching true crime and savoring wine. but when your best friend rhett abbott texts you at 1 am asking you to come outside, your comfortable night in turns into a starry, intimate confession beneath the wyoming sky. the lines of friendship blur deliciously into something deeper and hotter—under constellations and blankets on rhett's truck. and he finally shows you exactly how long he's been waiting to make you his.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaaahhhh!!! thank you soooo much for requesting rhett!! this is my first ever fic for him and i'm so excited to write more outer range stuff!! ughhh i love rhett so fucking much you have no idea!! i'm already through season 2 and oh my god?? it's soooo good!!!! literally obsessed with rhett and cowboys. head over heels for my favorite bull rider!! he just does things to me gahhhhh stargazing, confessions under the night sky, and riding rhett?? sign me tfff up!!! thank you for this ask, i loved the idea so much<3 i hope you like it! love, your friendly neighborhood cowboy-lover, bri.

You weren't really planning on doing anything tonight. Your warm bed awaited patiently, the cold sheets a welcoming embrace, while an unopened bottle of red Sauvignon shimmered in the silver glow of the moonlight streaming through your window. Netflix was paused on your TV—a true crime documentary glowing softly on the screen—waiting patiently to wash away the week's stress.

Your phone buzzed, jolting you from your cozy haze. You groaned softly—who the hell was texting at nearly one in the morning?

Rhett🤠💛: You awake, sweetheart?

You bit your lip, smiling softly. Your heart fluttered involuntarily at the sight of his name on your screen. Of course, Rhett Abbott would be the culprit. Always Rhett, your best friend since forever, your ride-or-die cowboy with that infuriatingly cocky grin and sky-blue eyes that always made your breath catch in your chest.

You: depends on what awake means

He responded immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting for your answer.

Rhett🤠💛: Eyes open, heartbeat steady. You missin’ me?

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm.

You: you wish, cowboy

Rhett🤠💛: I sure do. Come to your window.

Frowning curiously, your phone buzzed again—his picture lighting up the screen. You sighed, unable to hide your amusement as you swiped to answer.

"You're ridiculous," you murmured into the phone, padding across the floor and pulling back the curtains.

There he stood, propped against his trusty old truck, cowboy hat tilted just right, his smirk lazy and infuriatingly charming beneath the porch lights. He lifted his head to meet your gaze, and even at a distance, you could see his eyes shimmer mischievously.

“It’s almost one in the morning, Rhett. What the hell are you doing here?” you whispered into the phone, but he could hear the smile in your voice.

He chuckled warmly. “C’mon down, sweetheart. Don’t keep me waitin’. Got somethin' to show ya.”

“Fine, give me a minute.”

“Take your time, darlin’. Not like I'm freezin' my ass off or anything.”

“It’s barely cold, drama queen,” you scoffed, and he laughed lightly, a sound that melted into your bones.

You ended the call, grinning to yourself, excitement making your heart skip as you quickly shed your oversized shirt and slipped into a delicate white sundress, stepping into your worn, beloved cowboy boots.

You ran down, finding him exactly where you'd left him, the same stupidly charming smirk stretched across his face.

"Howdy, darlin'," he drawled, eyes flickering appreciatively over you.

“You’re obnoxious,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“Ah,” Rhett countered easily, swinging open his passenger door for you, eyes glittering warmly beneath his hat. “But you love it.”

You hesitated dramatically. “You sure you’re not kidnapping me?”

Rhett grinned, eyes darkening playfully beneath his hat. “Kidnappin’? Well shit, sweetheart, sounds terribly hot.”

You scoffed, climbing up into the truck. "You're disgusting."

“Only for you,” he drawled, sliding into the driver's seat and firing up the engine.

As he drove, you stole glances his way. Rhett Abbott—playboy, flirt, and the keeper of your deepest secrets. He knew your favorite songs, your go-to midnight snacks, how you liked your coffee, and the names of every one of your childhood pets. He’d been there for your best and worst days, steadfast and irritatingly observant, noticing things about you no one else bothered to. Like how your brow furrowed when you were stressed, or the particular kind of silence you kept when something upset you. He noticed every detail. Every quiet shift.

God, you loved him.

You'd loved him—helplessly, recklessly, and quietly.

You’d loved Rhett Abbott for longer than you could remember, every stolen glance embedding deeper in your heart, every casual brush of his hand against your skin lingering long after he pulled away. Your love had become a secret you cradled close, hidden safely in shadows and subtle sighs, nestled in sleepless nights spent dreaming of what could be, wrapped in every heartbeat that stuttered at the mere sound of his laughter.

But confessing? Fuck no.

The thought alone terrified you. It was easy to joke with him, easy to laugh at his teasing comments and playful flirtations because that was Rhett. Cocky, charming, effortlessly alluring, the guy who could walk into any room and draw every eye. He had always been your best friend, your constant, your confidant. But turning this steady, beloved friendship into something else—something uncertain and dangerously delicate—felt far too risky.

And then there was Maria Olivares.

A shadow from high school, Rhett’s supposed ‘great love.’ You’d spent years watching him chase after her, hearing him speak her name like it was poetry he memorized. Though lately, you noticed he barely mentioned her anymore. Still, the echo of her presence lingered—a reminder that maybe you were just a placeholder, someone to distract him when the memories became too sharp. Maybe his lingering glances and softened touches were simply illusions your foolish heart conjured because you wanted them so badly to be real.

How could you risk it?

Because risking your heart felt like risking everything else too—every late-night phone call, every comfortable silence, every inside joke whispered conspiratorially between you two. Your friendship with Rhett Abbott was your safe place, a precious shelter built over countless nights spent laughing until dawn, confiding secrets no one else knew, sharing fears, hopes, dreams you trusted only to each other.

It was safer to keep quiet, safer to keep smiling and teasing, safer to pretend you didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you longer lately, the way his voice softened whenever he murmured "sweetheart," the way your heart skipped wildly, frantically, beneath his attentive gaze.

Because losing Rhett—even the smallest chance of it—would shatter your heart completely, leaving you lost and adrift without the boy you’d always loved quietly, desperately, hopelessly from the shadows.

So, you buried your secret deeper still, hiding it behind careful laughter and practiced smiles, behind sarcastic retorts and playful banter, hoping it would remain safely hidden—hoping, selfishly, that someday it might finally, mercifully slip free.

But until then, you'd guard it fiercely, keeping the love you felt safely, silently yours.

It was safer this way, even if it hurt.

And god, did it hurt.

“You’re definitely kidnapping me,” you teased lightly, noticing he was heading toward his ranch’s secluded pastures.

“Maybe,” he replied playfully, eyes gleaming beneath the moonlight. “Maybe I’m gonna murder you and hide your pretty little body somewhere out in these woods.”

“So romantic,” you deadpanned sarcastically.

He snorted softly, shaking his head. "Shut up, dumbass."

Beside you, Rhett’s heart beat quickly, his thoughts tangled and aching. He glanced at you—his best friend, his sweet torment. You were everything to him: your laughter, your teasing words, your stubborn kindness. He knew every hidden freckle, every quiet sigh, every favorite snack. He’d spent years drowning himself in meaningless distractions, Maria a distant memory that had long faded beneath your gentle presence.

He loved you desperately, fiercely, terrified that admitting it would send you running from him. Because if he lost you—he’d lose everything.

When Rhett parked in the open field, he hopped down smoothly, rounding to your side. Before you could protest, his strong hands gripped your waist, easily lifting you from the seat. You squealed in protest, and he laughed warmly, setting you down gently by the tailgate. Opening it, he revealed blankets and pillows piled invitingly.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “If you wanted sex, Abbott, you could’ve just asked.”

Rhett leaned in close, breath warm against your ear. “Sweetheart, trust me—if I wanted that tonight, you'd already know.”

Your cheeks flushed hot as he chuckled, delighting in your reaction. His grip softened, gentle once more, easing you up to sit atop the truck bed.

“I remember you told me once—probably drunk off your ass—that you loved stargazin’,” Rhett said softly, almost shyly, glancing upward. “Thought you might like this.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He remembered. Always so perceptive, attentive to every quiet detail you'd shared, every fleeting whisper you'd half-forgotten yourself. Rhett Abbott somehow catalogued every secret part of your soul.

"Are you serious?" Your voice was breathless, touched.

"Dead serious," he confirmed softly, hopping onto the truck bed beside you, reclining back and patting his chest invitingly. "C'mere."

After a shy hesitation, you sank against him, head gently nestled over his steady heartbeat. The sky stretched out overhead, an ocean of glittering starlight, infinite, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Rhett pointed lazily upward. "Alright, stargirl. Which one’s that?"

“Orion,” you smiled.

He hummed approval, voice teasing. "Alright, what about that one over there?"

"Cassiopeia."

He chuckled warmly. “You’re real good at this.”

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed softly.

“Yeah,” Rhett murmured, voice softer. “So damn beautiful.”

Your gaze shifted, heart thumping, realizing he wasn’t looking at the sky—he was looking at you.

His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. His thumb traced your lower lip lightly, and he whispered huskily, eyes searching yours, “You're beautiful.”

“Rhett,” you murmured breathlessly.

In the breathless heartbeat that followed, he surged forward, cradling your face in his strong, calloused hands, claiming your mouth in a fierce yet tender kiss. Your world spun wildly as you melted instantly into his embrace, lips moving hungrily, passionately against his own.

He groaned low into your mouth, desperation and relief laced in the sound. “God, sweetheart,” he murmured feverishly between kisses, “wanted this—wanted you for so fucking long.”

His tongue traced hotly along your lower lip, teasing entrance until your mouth parted eagerly beneath him, allowing him in, tasting and teasing until you moaned breathlessly.

“You drive me crazy, darlin’,” he growled softly, gripping the back of your neck possessively, deepening the kiss until it felt like he was stealing the breath straight from your lungs. “Think about you all the goddamn time.”

“Rhett—” you whispered, clutching at his shoulders, fingertips sinking into muscle, holding him desperately close. “Me too—god, please…”

At your whispered confession, something snapped in Rhett, and his kisses turned frantic, heated, teeth tugging lightly at your lip, dragging delicious moans from your throat. His hands roamed possessively, slipping beneath your dress, tracing urgently over the curve of your thighs, your hips, grasping firmly to anchor you closer.

“C'mere, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with need as he pulled you onto his lap. You gasped sharply, thighs parting instinctively, knees bracketing his waist. Your dress rucked up high, pooling carelessly around your hips as his hands gripped and kneaded your bare thighs, pulling you tight against him.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart—” he groaned, head falling back slightly as you ground experimentally against the rigid, straining bulge of his jeans. “Just like that, baby—god, you feel so fucking good.”

Your hands tangled into his soft hair, tugging lightly to tilt his head back, exposing his throat for your lips to explore hungrily. Rhett shuddered beneath you, growling deeply in his chest, fingers gripping tighter, pulling you closer, hips thrusting upwards desperately, chasing friction.

“So good,” he whispered fervently into your skin, teeth scraping tenderly at your collarbone. “So fucking perfect, baby—wanted to touch you like this for so damn long.”

You whimpered softly, rolling your hips faster, grinding harder against his hardness. He hissed sharply, fingers bruising into your hips, guiding your frantic movements, desperate to feel you closer, deeper.

“Need you, Rhett,” you pleaded softly, breath ragged and trembling.

He surged upright, pressing you flush against him, kissing you deeply, fiercely, as his fingers swiftly undid his jeans. “You’ve got me, sweetheart. Always.”

When you finally sank onto him, stretching deliciously around him, he groaned loudly—unrestrained, wild with pleasure. “Fuck—sweetheart,” he gasped, voice strained with raw pleasure. “Look how good you take me, darlin’—goddamn—so tight, so fucking perfect.”

You moaned his name, tossing your head back, riding him slow and deep beneath the watchful eyes of the stars. He leaned back against the truck bed, eyes glued hungrily to your flushed face, awed by every gasp and whimper falling from your parted lips.

“You look like a goddamn dream riding me like that,” he praised roughly, hands gripping your waist, guiding you up and down, matching each roll of your hips. “Fuck—just like that, beautiful. God, yes.”

Your nails dragged lightly down his chest, back arching beautifully beneath his heated gaze. Pleasure coiled tight within you, spiraling, pushing you to the edge until your rhythm faltered, breath catching sharply.

“Rhett—fuck—I’m gonna—” you gasped desperately, riding him faster, harder, chasing release.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged roughly, his thumb brushing firmly over your sensitive clit. “Let go—I wanna feel you come undone.”

His words sent you spiraling, shattering instantly around him. “Oh fuck, Rhett—” you cried out loudly, moaning shamelessly, trembling as pleasure consumed you, shaking wildly around him.

“Good girl,” he groaned, voice thick and hoarse with adoration. “So perfect, sweetheart—fuck, you feel so good.”

Before he could tip over the edge himself, you slid off his lap with a wicked smirk, sinking down onto your knees between his spread thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, eyes darkening hungrily as your mouth enveloped him completely, hot and wet and perfect. “Oh fuck—baby, yes—”

He trembled beneath your touch, hips bucking involuntarily as your tongue swirled and teased. “God, your mouth—fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart—gonna make me come.”

You hummed softly, the vibration sending him spiraling, fingers gripping your hair desperately, gently guiding your head, hips thrusting shallowly, lost in your wet, warm mouth.

“Fuck—I’m—” Rhett gasped raggedly, head thrown back, stars dancing behind his eyes as he came undone, spilling hotly into your mouth. You swallowed obediently, savoring him, your eyes locked wickedly onto his flushed face.

“Come here,” he rasped breathlessly, pulling you urgently back up, crashing his mouth onto yours fiercely. He groaned against your lips, tasting himself, tasting you, the intoxicating blend making him dizzy.

“Goddamn, you taste good, baby,” he murmured breathlessly, forehead pressed tenderly against yours, fingers still threaded possessively into your hair. “I love you, sweetheart—I’ve always fucking loved you.”

Your heart skipped violently at his whispered confession. “You do?”

Rhett laughed softly, tenderly, kissing you again, softer this time, almost reverently. “More than I know what to do with.”

You smiled shyly, your fingertips tracing gentle circles over his chest. “I love you, Rhett. Always have.”

He exhaled, relief flooding his eyes, expression growing boyishly sweet. “Thank fuck for that.”

You laughed quietly, settling comfortably against him, nestled safely in his arms. “Mmm,” you teased lightly, drawing lazy patterns on his chest. “I could get used to this.”

His grin turned mischievous, cocky smirk returning as he pressed a teasing kiss against your forehead. “Oh, you definitely will. I ain’t lettin’ you outta my sight now, darlin’. Especially now that I know what your pretty mouth can do.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giggling softly. “You’re impossible, Rhett Abbott.”

He chuckled deeply, wrapping his arms around you possessively, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Oh, but you love it.”

You tilted your head, gazing up into his beautiful blue eyes, heart swelling with affection, softness overwhelming you beneath the starlit sky.

“Yes,” you whispered quietly, truth heavy yet freeing on your lips, “I do.”

Beneath the vast Wyoming stars, Rhett held you tighter, knowing for certain now that everything he'd ever needed—everything he could ever want—was right there, safe in his arms.

[spongelll]

me when Lewis Pullman..

[heartshapedbabydolls]

[layla4567]

Save a Horse

Summary: In your busy and stressful life as a waitress, one day a cowboy will come to save you from the monotony of routine, and all thanks to a simple t-shirt.

Pairing: Rhett!Abott x Fem!waitress!reader

Warnings: +18, suggestive/innuendos, flirting, pet names, bad treatment of the waitresses, creepy guy spanking you, strong language, riding, smut, p in v, porn with plot, no proofread

Wc: 3k

A/n: This will probably come out on my birthday. Yay, happy birthday to me.

Another day, another pain in the back, as your grandfather would say. The diner was a little empty at that time of the morning, but you knew it would fill up by night. You sighed in resignation and walked out of the kitchen, whistling softly with a breakfast tray in one hand. Just through the door walked a man wearing a cowboy hat and plaid shirt.

He always frequented the place and always ordered the same thing: a strong black coffee and scrambled eggs with bacon. You never served him, but since he was a regular customer, practically everyone knew his order. I'd even heard his name was Rhett. Rhett Abbott.

As you walked past him to place the order at the table, you noticed him glancing at you. He always did, for some reason. You ignored him and went back to the bar to make the coffee he'd probably order.

Another waitress asked him, "Same old same old?"

The cowboy nodded. "Yes, please."

With your back to him, you smiled and hummed. You knew it. You finished using the coffee maker and headed to the kitchen, feeling his piercing blue gaze on you. Carla, your coworker, poured him the coffee just the way he liked it, and he thanked her with a smile and a wink. You focused on helping fry the bacon while humming a song.

As you left, you handed the finished plate to Carla while holding another tray full of waffles in your other hand. As you passed by the cowboy again, you felt his furtive gaze on you. What was wrong with him? Had you put your jeans on backward, or did he dislike you? Ugh, anyway, you didn't care. The cowboy was cute, though.

You approached the table where a family was happily eating, and they thanked you warmly when you brought out dessert. Before leaving, you noticed that their two-year-old daughter had gotten ketchup on her chin. You smiled amusedly and took a handkerchief out of your pants.

You got a little closer to her and gently cleaned where she had stained herself. "There you go, sweetie." Then you pocked her nose in a friendly way and the child laughed.

As you turned to return to your workplace, you noticed that the cowboy had turned slightly to see you better, and you could imagine that he smiled slightly at the scene. Your eyes met his, a deep blue like the sea, and you felt your cheeks a little hot. You cleared your throat and, ducking your head, you walked quickly, avoiding eye contact. Even so, you noticed that his smile grew a little wider.

The days passed, and Rhett always came in at the same time, with no change in his daily menu. Over time, you learned things about him, like that he was an excellent rodeo rider, that he had a niece named Amy, and that he didn't get along with his brother. You discovered all of this from the way he chatted and flirted a little shamelessly with the waitresses who served him. You didn't know why this irritated you, and you rolled your eyes every time you saw him smile at your coworkers. But today would be different; they were short-staffed, and you had no choice but to serve him this time.

You gripped the coffee pot tightly and, taking a deep breath, walked over to the bar where he and several others were sitting. You walked past each one and poured the coffee into their cups quickly and expertly. When you got to Rhett, you asked,

"You want a refill?"

He said yes, and you smiled. Since you were focused on the cup, you didn't notice Rhett staring at your shirt. It read, "Save a horse, ride a cowboy." You thought it was funny, that's why you wore it. Uniforms weren't required at work, so you always changed outfits, except for the bandana on your head. It always stayed there.

The man laughed softly and gently scratched his lower lip with his thumb while resting his arms on the bar. "I like it," he whispered.

You looked up in confusion "I'm sorry?"

He nodded at your shirt "your shirt..."

You looked at your chest "Oh, this... thanks I guess" you laughed a little nervously

He let a few seconds pass when you finished pouring the coffee just enough to speak again "And, you know how to ride?"

Oh god. You almost dropped your pot. You looked at him, hoping your face wasn't red, but the way the corners of his mouth trembled slightly told you your prayers weren't answered. You frowned and swallowed. "Sorry, sir, come again?" You didn't want to, but your voice trembled a little.

Sir, he was sir now. He liked it, it made him feel something...he didn't know what it was, but it was good. Rhett smiled wider and ducked his head, touching the brim of his hat. Then he looked at you. "Riding horses, of course. Or bulls, if you prefer."

You let out a shaky, relieved laugh. "Oh well, not really..."

"Do you want me to teach you?"

You didn't know if it was her tone of voice or that unusual sparkle in her eyes, but something told you she wasn't talking about horses like you thought. You adjusted the headband on your head, nervously fiddling with it before answering with a shrug.

"Maybe one day"

"Deal"

*

Rhett's promise continued to hang in the air as the days passed, but you decided not to take it for now. You still weren't sure what he meant, or maybe you were, but you didn't want to be sure. That day you were working nights and the place was packed, but Rhett kept coming back, still being there for you. This time he stayed for dinner and then ordered dessert, consulting the menu. Undecided, you approached him slowly and pointed to an apple crumble with a finger.

"Can I suggest you this one? It's the house special"

"Thank you very much, lady" he smiled

Lady. You were a lady now, even though he'd heard your name, though never from your mouth. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying in vain to suppress a silly smile, and without saying anything, you nodded and headed to the kitchen. Although this time the staff was full and the same as always, there were too many people and they had to take turns serving everyone. When you left Rhett's plate of lukewarm crumble garnished with a scoop of ice cream, you headed towards a table where a waitress was trying to serve an unpleasant man who was arguing with her almost at the top of his voice.

You went to help your friend who was trying in vain to calm the man, you put a hand on her shoulder and she looked at you gratefully as if you were her guardian angel and went to serve another table.

"Sorry sir, what's the problem?"

He looked at you furiously. "The problem?! I'll tell you, the problem is that I've been trying to order something for half an hour and no one comes to take my order!" he snapped.

You closed your eyes, gathering patience, and nodded. "I'm so sorry, there aren't many of us and the place is too crowded. But I'm here now. Tell me what you're going to order."

He ordered a large amount of food and you quickly wrote everything down so you wouldn't forget it and quickly headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile, the guy was truly an annoying mess; from where you were, you could hear him shouting on the phone as if he were the only man on the planet. The people around him looked at him angrily; even Rhett turned around to see who the madman was who was behaving like that. When you left the kitchen with two full trays, trying not to lose your balance, you went to the table and the man didn't even say thank you.

"Finally!" he said annoyed

You wrinkled your nose in disgust and walked away quickly as if he had a toxic aura that made you feel sick. An hour passed, during which the guy had finished eating and was hungry again. You had approached the bar to see Rhett, you smiled at him, in the meantime he seemed like a breath of fresh air.

"Was it good? The apple crumble?"

"The best I've ever tasted," he said genuinely.

You laughed and bit your lip. "Well, next time you order another one, it's on the house," you said, a little sweetly.

He tilted his head, smiling flirtatiously. But your smile slowly faded when you heard a shrill voice.

"Hey! You, the handkerchief doll! I want to order dessert, come here!"

That guy was so disgusting. Just listening to him speak and command made your stomach churn. With resignation and a sour face, you addressed him. He looked you up and down as if you were an object, which gave you the creeps.

"What dessert are you going to order?" you said in a cutting tone

"I don't know, what desserts are there? Are you in them? He laughed as if I had made a great joke.

You closed your eyes trying not to gag and took a deep breath, ignoring his comment, "We have apple crumble, pumpkin pie, lemon pie-"

He interrupted you. "Stop. Don't say anything else. I want a pumpkin pie."

You nodded, relieved to be able to leave quickly when, as you turned around, he spoke again.

"and hurry up, doll"

and immediately afterward, you felt a hard slap on your butt, the sound of which could be heard throughout the entire place. You gasped in surprise as the man laughed. You felt your blood freeze in your veins. You felt dirty, your eyes threatened to sting, and your face turned red. The worst part was that you weren't the only one; that idiot had been doing it to other waitresses as well. Helplessness settled in your chest like a rock, but you didn't want to cry. You walked quickly, almost running, to the kitchen. Rhett, who had turned to see the scene, clenched his jaw, his gaze boring into the man's face, wanting to blow his head off. And when you ran away, he looked at you with concern.

Now the cowboy couldn't stop staring at that jerk. Minutes passed as you walked out with the plate of pumpkin pie and a pitcher of juice for another table. Carla, standing near you, offered to serve dessert for you, but you told her it was fine. When you approached the table, you put down your plate, and before he could say anything, you grabbed the pitcher of juice and threw it at his head, soaking him. The man yelled angrily, asking you what the hell you were doing.

"Maybe this way you'll learn to treat women well, you piece of scum."

The man wiped his face with one hand and growling furiously he grabbed you by both arms tightly, you gasped scared

"You'll see, you fucking whore"

The other coworkers approached in alarm, people around you holding their breath or standing up from their seats. The man raised an arm ready to slap you, you squeezed your eyes shut but didn't feel anything, instead Rhett, who had gotten up from his seat, ran to your side and grabbed the man by the collar and punched him. You yelled, caught off guard. Rhett shook the man and brought his face close to his.

"touch her and I'll kill you" he said through gritted teeth

Then he violently released the man, who fell back into the seat, a little startled. Rhett turned to look at you, his gaze softening. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely worried for you.

You were scared, trembling slightly, but nodded. You ran toward the back exit anyway. He followed you without hesitation. When you stepped outside, you took a deep, steadying breath. The night chill hit your face and cleared your mind; you could still feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cowboy walked behind you.

"Hey, hey, are you really okay?" he said softly with a hand on your arm.

You were about to say yes, but you couldn't pretend anymore, and you broke down. You started to cry, unable to hold it back any longer. He held you against his chest and rubbed your back. You allowed yourself to cry as much as you needed.

"It's ok, sweetheart. It's over" he cooed

You'd been so scared, but now he was there, comforting and caring for you. He'd protected you, he was your savior. You stepped back and clumsily wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

"Uhm thank you, I owe one" you said, sniffling.

He laughed and caressed your cheek, wiping away the tears. "No need, love. I couldn't let any asshole mistreat you like that."

You smiled at the quality of his words and looked up at him gratefully. He moved his gaze from your eyes to your lips. Understanding, you moved your face a little closer, and he lifted the brim of his hat with his thumb, cupping your face as he crashed his lips down onto yours. His lips were soft against yours in a kiss that was tender but slowly intensified. His mouth pursued yours as if afraid you would move away from him. You opened your mouth, gasping, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Moaning, you pressed your thighs together, feeling your core already throb. Rhett reached out, feeling along the wall, and leaned you against it without moving away from your lips. Your body pressed and rubbed against his, making him moan against your mouth.

Suddenly he pulled away and looked at you. You looked beautiful, chapped lips, glassy eyes, labored breathing. He thought for a few seconds and then said.

"My proposal is still pending, you know.."

You frowned in confusion, then remembered, "The horse riding thing?"

"not quite"

There was a gleam of lust in his eyes, his pupils dilated. You knew exactly what he meant.

"Is it okay if I take you to the back of my truck?"

You bit your lip and nodded, "My turn's over anyway..."

*

Rhett led you by the hand to his truck; it was dark except for the moonlight. He guided you and lifted you by the waist onto the wooden planks, then climbed in with you. The back of the truck was sparse, with only two or three wooden crates stacked on top. Rhett hugged you around the waist.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do it if you don't want to..."

You shook your head "it's ok, I want this"

He kissed your head. "Okay, pretty, but if you don't feel comfortable, we can stop. Just use your words."

Then he pulled you closer and kissed you passionately, cradling your face with one hand. You clung to his shirt and followed his rhythm. He sat on the floor and guided your hips to his, straddling you as he continued kissing you. He unbuttoned his shirt and got rid of his pants. He soon helped you remove your own clothes, leaving you in your underwear. You were now sitting on his hard, clothed member, and he admired you lying on the floor with his hands on your waist, tracing comforting circles. Okay, this was happening, or rather, it was going to happen. You nervously bit your lip. Rhett guessed your stress and smiled.

"Remember, use your words. If you want to stop, we'll stop."

You nodded again. He straightened slightly and approached you. He parted your lower lip with his thumb and kissed it, biting it lightly. Then he placed his hat on your head.

"you'll need it, think you're a real cowgirl" he laughed

You laughed, feeling your body relax. He hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down gently, revealing your wet pussy. He bit his lip as he watched it.

"You can do the same with my boxer"

Eagerly, you pulled at the fabric, revealing his erect, pink cock. Your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitantly parted your lips. "I- I don't know if I can..."

His member seemed bigger than you imagined, and you didn't know if it would fit. He caressed your thighs. "Yes, you can, I know it."

You exhaled softly and aligned yourself with his tip, when he brushed against your sensitive area you shivered slightly with a moan. Then you sat up abruptly feeling your walls stretch and hiss with a grimace. Rhett held you firmly by the hips.

"Whoa, whoa sweets, easy. Not so fast or you'll hurt yourself. Rule number one: start slow"

"Alright..."

He smiled. "Now, let's practice your stamina."

You placed your hands on his abs and began to instinctively move your hips in place, only back and forth in circles, but enough to make Rhett close his eyes and throw his head back.

"That's it, you're doing well" he exhaled

With every movement of your hips, you could feel his cock molding itself against your walls, making you moan softly. You closed your eyes, enjoying the pleasure of the moment with your mouth open. But Rhett wasn't there to teach you that. He opened his eyes and looked at you, lips parted, sweaty neck, rosy chest, and his hat on your head. Gosh, you were going to kill him.

"As much as I like this, dear, it's not very fair, it's not what we came for."

You bit your lip and looked at him with your eyebrows raised in an arch, your doe eyes wide. Yes, you were going to kill him.

"show me how you ride"

You nodded, humming unsurely. You lifted your hips enough to get off his pelvis and lowered yourself slowly as he had instructed. His member slid easily in and out of you, making you gasp. Rhett watched you, analyzing your way of riding but also letting himself go and seeking his own pleasure. You went up and down slowly, timidly, not quite sure if you were doing it right; he comforted you.

"You're doing it perfectly, sugar, keep going like that, come on"

Encouraged, you bit your lip in a smile and, closing your eyes, continued to move up and down, back and forth. He grunted and dropped his head back, resting it against the wood. Your eyebrows furrowed and you breathed heavily through your nose. The hat on your head was tilting, threatening to fall off. Your walls throbbed around him, and you felt that heat slowly bubble in your stomach. Steeling yourself, you picked up the pace, even going a little higher to go down deeper, making your breasts bounce. Rhett adjusted his grip on your buttocks, squeezing them. Your thighs were starting to burn from the exertion, but he didn't stop you. You felt the fatigue ease, but you still wanted to keep pushing, to show him that you could do it. He looked at you, your face twisting slightly from the overexertion as you panted like a dog. He smiled at how messed up you were with the hat practically falling off, trying to put it on your head, uselessly.

"You good over there, doll?"

"Ugh, I think so" you moaned tiredly.

"Let me help you with that, treasure."

Rhett moved his hips following your movement, guiding you so you wouldn't have to overexert yourself. Your nails dug into his V-line, scratching the skin as you felt how well he filled you. When you lifted him up, he lifted with you, keeping his cock inside you as if it were stuck with glue. Your whole body followed the movement as you threw your head back, not caring if the hat fell off. From that angle, Rhett admired your body now bathed in moonlight, making your sweat shine and how your raw throat rose and fell when you swallowed. He had to clench his jaw to keep from cumming prematurely.

"Fuck, look at you, pretty thing. You're killing me like this." He panted

Now the thrusts were uncontrolled and uncoordinated, when you went up he went down and vice versa making his cock bury deeper in you as you went down, hitting your G-spot masterfully. You closed your eyes tightly and screamed his name.

"Yeah? Let me hear you, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel"

Your hands gripped the sides of his abdomen, and you leaned slightly over him, giving him a better view of your cleavage, your breasts swaying with each thrust. You breathed with your mouth open, the bubbling in your stomach growing faster and faster.

"Rhett... I'm-!"

"I know babe, wait for me"

You bit your lips hard until you bled, trying to hold out a little longer. Rhett pounded into you mercilessly, and now you could only take everything he gave you with tearful moans. "K' baby, I'm ngh ready," he groaned.

With one last thrust, you were surprised by a warm liquid filling your walls as your own liquid shot out along with the climax overflowing like a wave. Your thighs trembled but Rhett held you firm. Your whole body felt lighter and you slowly collapsed on top of him, strength gone. The cowboy leaned on his elbows, catching his breath. He brushed your sweaty hair away from your face as you looked up at him as if you were drunk, he chuckled.

"How did I do it?" you managed to formulate, with a sigh.

Rhett gently and lovingly kissed your sweaty temple as he rested his lips there on your racing, pounding pulse against your warm skin. "Much better than I expected, but we'll have to keep practicing," he said in a low tone.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath frozen, hearing him. He laughed even louder at your adorable expression. He kissed your lips. "Don't worry, not today. We have time."

You breathed a sigh of relief again and smiled, letting your head fall onto his chest. He stroked your hair, slightly dampened with sweat, bringing his fingers to your shoulder and tracing circles. You sighed contentedly against his pecs. Bless that t-shirt you decided to wear today. You'd definetely wear it more often.