summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.
word count: ~1.4k
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know
a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out
You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.
“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.
“Wabang?”
“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.”
“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”
“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.
“Mean.”
You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.
“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.
“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer
“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.
“Thought you did that anyway.”
“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”
You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.
“Go on.”
“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”
“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..
“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”
“What about a dog?”
“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”
“Agreed.”
“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.
“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”
You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.
“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.
“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.
“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.
“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”
“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.
“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”
“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”
“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”
“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”
“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.
“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair.
“Where’d I lose you?”
“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.
“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.
“The what?”
“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.
“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”
“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment.
“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.
“Yeah, I did.”
“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.
“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.
“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”
“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.
Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.
You’re a graduate student in agriculture, in town for a few weeks for a friend’s wedding. Rhett takes an interest in you one night at the bar, and decides to play the long game to get into your pants. It fails spectacularly, in the best way possible.
1.7k, first chapter of a series I’m planning
🏷: F!reader (she/her and ‘girl’ used), a healthy amount of misogyny pertaining to hookup culture / buckle bunnies, “started off with questionable intentions but wow I really like you” trope (is there a shorter name for that?), I haven’t actually finished the show so uhh, whoops, but I really don’t see this being at all canon compliant, yes, the title is from the Trace Adkins song.
The first time Rhett Abbott sees you, he already knows exactly what your deal is. Or he thinks he does.
You’re sitting with a group of girls your age -- probably a bachelorette party, if the matching rhinestoned cowgirl hats were any indication.
He thinks he recognizes a local girl on your left. He went to school with her but he can’t remember her name. She must be the bride; her hat is white while the rest are black, and there’s one of those cheap ‘bride to be’ sashes over her shoulder.
You’re talking, laughing, and then the local girl — Emily, he decides — is pushing you up from the table and toward the mechanical bull.
He leans back in his seat a little, resting his back against the bartop. This should be good.
He’s fully prepared to watch some tipsy out-of-state college girl get thrown, and then maybe sidle up to her later tonight and casually drop that he does this for a living, and he’s willing to teach. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that those exact events had played out.
As if you can feel his eyes on you, you shoot him a sly smile. You seem confident, clipping up your hair with a quick twist of your wrist and tugging up your jeans by the loops. They fit perfectly, probably made of that stretchy shit that city people call denim, but he isn’t complaining, not when you look this good in them.
He shakes his head with a soft laugh, returning your smile and flicking the brim of his hat up with one finger. That always drives the girls a little crazy.
He watches as you enter the ring, sparkling hat in hand, and waste no time climbing on. You spread your knees, loosening your hips and cracking your neck before you look up at the operator, telling him you’re ready.
He can hear a few of the locals placing their bets on how long you’ll last, but he keeps quiet, just observing. Rhett’s frequented this bar for years, he knows that every fifteen seconds it gets more intense — his personal best is nearly three minutes, but he does this for a living, on real bulls.
It starts to move and you flow with it, leaning back as it bucks back and forth. You keep a loose grip on the saddle with one hand, the other still holding your hat. It’s as cliché as ever, probably trying to emulate something you’d seen in a movie, but it works. You lean forward with it at just the right time, which offers Rhett an excellent view down your shirt.
Up to thirty seconds now. He gives you another sly smile, getting impressed.
You return it, settling your hat back on your head firmly. You still keep that hand free, arm extended out for balance. Smart girl.
He can tell you’re reaching your limit, the movements becoming more erratic and harder to flow with. He’s almost a little worried that you’ll be thrown into the gross vinyl padding below, as he’s seen so many other overconfident first-timers be, but you surprise him once again.
You push down hard with both hands, jumping over the head and landing on your feet calmly, grinning from ear to ear.
Rhett checks his watch one last time. A minute and three seconds.
The whole bar cheers, and you take the attention in stride, taking off your hat and bowing humbly. You return to your friends with a pep in your step, laughing at their exaggerated applause.
Emily heads up to the bar to order you all another round. This is his opportunity.
“Emily,” He calls, nodding his head, and she turns to look at him. Thank the lord he got her name right. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Thomas Daniels.” She says with a smile.
Rhett doesn’t remember much about the guy, other than that he went to school with him, but Emily definitely gives him the vibe that she’d marry within the town. They’d probably been high school sweethearts, and he probably shipped off to the military shortly after graduation — the way things always seemed to go around here.
“That your friend up there?” He asks, nodding toward the bull.
“Yup,” She gives him your name, “we’re sorority sisters, we were roommates back in the day.” She reminisces, even though ‘the day’ can’t be more than four years ago.
Oh, lord. This cannot get any better. The universe has finally given Rhett Abbott a break for the week, dropped a pretty city girl into his lap — figuratively, and hopefully by the end of the night, literally.
She gives him a dry look, seeing the lazy smile on his face. “Don’t get slick with me, Abbott. I know where you think this is headed.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talkin about.” Bullshit. He does.
But before she can call him out on it, you’re approaching the counter. You’ve abandoned your hat and untied your hair, letting it trail down your shoulders. You almost fit in with the crowd now. You give him a quick raise of the eyebrows in acknowledgment, and order a Shirley Temple.
“Really?” Emily asks.
You admit it’s a bit of a childish choice, but you’re driving tonight — there isn’t exactly a booming market for Uber out here. “Someone has to get all of you out of here in one piece.” You remind her.
She gives you an ambivalent look and heads back to the table with the rest of the shots.
The bartender slides a glass over to you, complete with an artificial-looking cherry on top and a little red straw. You thank him politely and give him your last name for the tab.
“After that performance, it’s on the house, sweetheart. S’ just juice and sprite, after all.”
You laugh, but accept it graciously, and turn to Rhett. The stars are aligning more rapidly than he’d planned.
“So, you went to school with Em?”
Of course you call her Em. God, you’re a walking stereotype. This should be easy as pie. But something tells him you’re gonna take a little more effort than usual. You’re the responsible type, probably volunteered to be the DD because you don’t drink much. You definitely won’t abandon your girlfriends on a whim. So he smiles, and decides to play the long game. “I did.”
Your conversation confirms a few of his assumptions — you’re from out of state. Check. You’ve got the sorority girl smile and the pretty face. Check. It’s clear that you know how to party, but you’re educated. Intelligent. Responsible.
He asks where you went to school and listens with a smile as you tell him about the program you’d completed — and your research with agriculture. Oh, lord who art in heaven, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It’s cute seeing you all excited like this, even if he only understands about every other word of your description of your research. After a minute or two you realize you’ve been talking his ear off, and apologize profusely.
“Don’t be sorry. S’ not every day a pretty girl at the bar teaches you something new about your own job.”
Oh, god. You fucked up. He watches it dawn on you, an amused smile on his face.
“D’you own a ranch up here?” You ask, a little embarrassed. “Emily said you were a rodeo rider.”
Oh, so you’d been asking about him earlier. That’s why she pushed you into the ring, to try and impress him. Hook, line, and sinker.
“My family does, yeah. Rodeo’s a tough business, don’t pay much. More of a hobby, I’d say.” He’s impressing himself now. A hobby. Sure. Like making those little ships in bottles, or fucking pretty girls in the backseat of his truck. Not just a dead end dream that might get him killed someday. “So now it’s your turn.” He says with a winning smile. “Whaddaya want to know?”
“Oh, that is way too broad of a question.” You laugh. “You didn’t come here to be interviewed, I’m sure.”
“And you didn’t come here to conduct research.” He nods toward the table where the rest of the bridal party sit, still talking and laughing. “Tell ya what. How about I give you a tour of the ranch on Monday, let you ask all the questions your little heart desires.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly-“ You start to decline, polite as ever, but he sees right through you, cocking an eyebrow as if to say really?
“I would love that.” You accept. “Thank you.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He says with a sly smile, reaching for a spare cocktail napkin and bumming a pen from the bartender.
You try to push down the fluttery feeling in your chest while he scrawls his name and number onto the brown paper.
307-555-7184. Rhett. He crosses both the T’s with one short stroke and hands it to you.
You thank him again, taking your now-melted Shirley Temple and hopping down from the barstool to reunite with your friends. You clutch the napkin to your chest, heart racing at both the opportunity at hand and at the way he interacted with you — the sweet country-isms, that smile… you’re in trouble.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or did you get a phone number?”
“Indeed I did. But it’s not what you think. We got to talking about my research and he said he’d show me around the ranch sometime, for my thesis.”
“You know what he really means by that.” One of your less-inebriated friends says, giving you an older-sisterly look.
“I think he’s being genuine.” You defend with a huff, watching as he settles up with the bartender and steps down from his stool. “How many guys have actually listened to me talk about my research?”
“Like, none. Because it’s boring.” Another answers, clearly a little more buzzed.
“Thank you.” You say exasperatedly. “He seems to have a genuine interest-“
“In getting in your pants.”
“I wouldn’t complain about that.” You admit with a soft laugh, almost embarrassed.
That’s good to know. Very good to know. He tips his hat to you on the way out, and all you can think about for the rest of the night is how many hours there are until Monday morning.
So here we go. Tarot reading channeling Rhett and Link’s energies. I specifically asked “How do they feel about each other and what do they want to tell to one another?” 🔮 (Note: this’ll be a bit wordy lol and DM me if you want to avail of my tarot services! Need to raise at least $50 til this weekend)
The cards I got were very “Swords-y”. The suits of Swords corresponds to the element of Air. Rhett is a Libra ♎️ and Link is a Gemini ♊️, both Air signs so this represents their energies. Swords also represents the mind, intellect, thoughts, logic, conflicts, challenges, and difficult decisions.
I got SIX swords cards here ⚔️. The narrative shows that they have a lot of thoughts running round their heads about each other but they find it hard to open up and truly talk about it. Overthinking is an overarching theme in this reading. They have a hard time thinking clearly and their emotions are clouded. There is an imbalance going on with the heart and the mind. I feel that they gave in to their logical side and threw aside their emotional side ❤️🩹
The Queen of Cups represent how they just want to care deeply for each other; they want to nurture their relationship and display true acts of love. They want to offer unconditional love that knows no bounds and want to be more in touch with their feminine side 🍃
However the Hierophant and Death cards suggest that due to their past upbringing and relationship with a religious institution (we all know what this is about), they were indoctrinated and taught that it was “bad and sinful”. They were trapped into this and couldn’t be free to express themselves and be more than just friends 🪤
They wish things could’ve gone differently between the two of them. They wish that they took a different direction. They’ve been there for each other from the start 👨🏼🤝👨🏻 The Two of Swords indicate having two choose between two options. Pretty early on, they were already presented with binary options, and to stray out of it would mean betraying everything: their families, values, church, etc 💨
In the present, they feel happy and contented with what they’ve achieved in both of their personal lives and career 🤳 They are grateful to have come this far in Mythical and just how successful they are now. They love the company they keep, both in their families and in their workplace.
But the Hanged Man suggests that they are still waiting for an alternate ending for their relationship. They know that they could be so much more. That they are much more than just best friends for 30 plus something years. They are thinking of their alternate lives if they would’ve just gone with their hearts and chose it over logic 🧠 It indicates “seeing things in a different perspective”. They have always seen each other as someone who they could rely on. Now they’re waiting. For a time that may or may never come where one or both of them finally decides to speak up and let their inner feelings out ⏰
These four oracle cards have general themes: healing, letting go, and acceptance 🍁
They have wounds still not healed, resentments not yet released, and potentials not yet realized. Perhaps time will tell if they heal completely from their past ideals, identities, and experiences. The advice for them is to step out of their comfort zone. If they never try, they will never know.
And damn do we all hope that they actually try!! 😮💨
hi guys!! i’ve been wanting to get back into writing again and hopefully this’ll help me out some so i’ve decided that i’m gonna have a little blurb event type of thing going on for the next few days, so! i’ll be accepting blurb requests only until the 18th. if i get any requests after then, i likely won't write it. i’m gonna do this a little differently so under the cut i’m going to list the characters that i’m accepting requests for, some rules for requests and some prompt lists that can be used :) so please feel free to send as many requests as you’d like just please bear with me!!
list of characters i’m accepting requests for —
ethan landry
rhett abbott
robert ‘bob’ floyd
bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw
jake ‘hangman’ seresin
jamie tartt
roy kent
steve harrington
carmen berzatto
bucky barnes
prompt lists —
prompt list 1 | prompt list 2 | prompt list 3 | smut prompt list
rules for blurb requests —
i’ll write basically anything (au’s, angst, fluff, hurt to comfort, smut, etc) but if i get a smut request theres a chance i won’t write it only because i haven’t been writing smut very long so just keep that in mind.
if you use a prompt from one of the lists above, please tell me which list you’re wanting (ex: can i get promt 7 from prompt list 2 with bradley bradshaw)
please be as specific with what you’re requesting as you want! it helps me get a better understanding of what you’re wanting!
and lastly, please don’t be upset if i decline your request.
tagging some mutuals off the top of my head - @ilyasorokinn @boqvistsbabe @2manytabsopen @ang3lik @sunshinefarabees @lavenderacademia
its thunderstorming where i am and im just thinking about cuddling with rhett during a storm. like you’re staying over in his room at the ranch and he still has to get up early and take care of the usual things, look after the animals, etc. (and like listen i have never lived on a ranch, i don’t know what goes into it but bear with me) but you wake up w/ rhett and you hear the thunder and you kind of sleepily go like ‘oh no... do you guys need help?’ bc you figure many hands make light work and it’s so bad out but rhett just kind of laughs at you (not unkindly) and kisses your temple and tells you to go back to sleep.
it’s storming hard enough that once all the absolutely necessary tasks are done royal calls off any other work because he doesn’t want anyone getting struck by lightning lol so you’re still in bed by the time rhett comes back into his room and he’s taken a shower to get all the mud off him and stuff and he just crawls back into bed and lays on your chest. and you start playing with his hair and ask if he wants to stay in today and he just kind of grumbles a little yes
and you’re kind of focused on how cute he is for a few moments but he maybe dozes off a bit and you get to thinking about how little time rhett actually gets to relax. and you just wind up spending most of the day in bed, maybe you put a movie on. at some point once he’s more awake you massage his shoulders. perhaps other things ensue, knowing rhett lmao (obviously only if you both are in the mood)
god and you go down for dinner and cecilia, like truly not meaning anything by it, is like ‘you two were awful quiet all day.’ and you just kind of glance at rhett, who is still a little blissed out like he just looks very peaceful and relaxed and you squeeze his arm and just ‘i think we just needed a little rest.’ and you’re not even looking at her when you answer, you’re just staring at each other and cecilia kind of just smiles to herself because you obviously treat her son right and it’s about damn time. and like family dinner actually goes well because everyone got to have down time today so no one is particularly grumpy. it’s just. a nice meal lol
afterwards you literally just go back up to his room and maybe you talk a little bit or maybe you read and he noodles around on the guitar (because i saw someone headcanon rhett as a hobby guitarist and that simply makes so much sense to me) god or maybe he whittles, i could absolutely see that. but you, of course, wind up back in bed if for no other reason than it’s eventually late enough to go to sleep and you default back to holding rhett or being the big spoon, what have you.
and maybe you two dont exactly talk about what all is going on. there’s kind of an unspoken agreement that rhett really, really needed this but it’s hard for him to admit. and like he’s not just basking in your attention (even though he totally is) like he’s affectionate in return and like insists on being the one to hold you sometimes. but you make the day mostly about him and like once it’s time to actually go to sleep he just kind of quietly is like ‘thank you.’ and you just snuggle a little closer and tell him ‘always.’