#rhett abbott x y/n

[sugarcoated-lame]

Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader

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

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

WC: 2900

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Thank you for reading! x

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

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

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#rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott imagine #lewis pullman #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott one shot #my writing

[sebsxphia]

Okay but like sitting on rhetts lap he's in nothing but his boxers and cowboy hat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

yee haw cowboy! 🤠

he’s just had a very successful run at the rodeo and he’s finally got his winning prize right where he wants you. you laugh when he tells you this corny one liner, but you wouldn’t have your winning cowboy any other way. especially when he’s striped down to nothing but his boxers. after the evening, there were a couple of beers and shots of tequila at the bar, but nothing too heavy. it’s enough to make you both like giggly teenagers again and as you patch up any fresh grazes, and soothe any blooming bruises, rhett’s still wearing his cowboy hat on his head.

when you finish up tending to your rough and tough cowboy, he pulls you up to his lap with a needy, “c’ere, little darlin’.” he’s got you straddling his bare thighs and he’s kissing over your neck, with his teeth biting at your earlobe. “mm, baby. y’ looked s’ good tonight. y’ do that just for me, hm? dress up all pretty f’ daddy? you’re s’ sweet to me, you’re my diamond girl, my good luck charm. i love you, darlin’.”

sooner than you know it, his cowboy hat is placed on your head and he’s giving your thighs a squeeze. “c’mon, pretty girl. ride the winnin’ cowboy.”

hehe 🤭 i love this thot so much my dear anon! thank you so much for this! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #rhett abbott #sebs masterlist #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott smut

[delopsia]

About Last Night | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 6,700  Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Virgin!Rhett, shameless childhood best friends to lovers trope, unprotected sex in a hotel room, loss of virginity, first kisses, reader teaching Rhett how to eat them out, and a lazy morning after snippet. A self-indulgent take on Rhett's best friend coming back to Wabang and surprising him after his final rodeo.

Someone's gone and replaced your flowers with cement replicas. Hundreds of pounds each, weighing heavier and heavier with every moment that passes. Brittle stems threaten to slip out of your sweaty grasp and shatter into a million tiny pieces. 

"What did you say?" His wavering words are so weak that you almost don't hear him speak at all. 

But you do. 

And repeating yourself is just as hard as it was the first time you opened your mouth. 

"Congratulations." 

Even from so far away, you can feel his gaze drop down to the colorful mess in your hands. Vivid hues of red and yellow, the dainty little petals still glistening from the sudden onset of rain. In hindsight, an umbrella would have been a good idea.

"You..." his head tilts back up, still not moving, "for...me?" Why is it that you already knew he would look behind himself, like someone better, more deserving, would be behind him?

You're glad you chose this spot to surprise him. Where it's dark, and the blinding stadium lights can't cast a spotlight on your contorting face as you scramble for words. Specific sounds that each carry their own unique meaning; all you need to do is open your mouth and make a noise. 

But you can't.

Maybe you don't need to, though. Because Rhett's feet are moving, boots audibly scuffing against the dirt because he's not picking them up high enough. Albeit, moving very slowly, as if you're not real, just a ghost of the past that'll turn into mist if he isn't careful. 

His heels dig into the ground a mere foot away from you. Like he's met the end of an invisible leash. Eyes back on the flowers, then you once more. "Sunflowers?" 

"And tulips," the words spill out of your mouth so quickly that you hardly know what you said, "you...told me a long time ago that sunflowers were your favorite." 

The red tulips only made their way into the bouquet because the florist had a shortage of sunflowers. It was either hand him an absurdly tiny bouquet of flowers or spruce it up with the same color tulips he gave you after graduation, way back when. Before you left.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Lightning flickers. Lights up the sky for the briefest instance. One fleeting shot of Rhett's face. Eyes so wet they shimmer. Dirt on his unshaven jaw. He reaches out. Doesn't take the flowers when you hold them out for him. No, he just...touches them. Like he's unsure if they're real. 

"You told me that you were never coming back to Wabang," it's almost strange to hear his voice this clearly. No longer muffled by a cell phone speaker. 

"I did," licking your lips, "but I never said I wouldn't come back for you." 

That... maybe you shouldn't have said that. All it's taken is those few words for this cowboy to go still again. Doesn't even blink. All he's capable of is staring back at you. Blank. No easy-going smile. No childish teasing. Hell. He doesn't even breathe.

Again, lightning flashes across the sky. Veins of light scattering and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Even so, you catch the upturn of the corner of Rhett's lip. Lopsided. Fighting its way across his face.

His hand is traveling. Across the petals. Down the stems. Right across your boiling hand and up your arm. Feather-light, never vanishing. Doesn't stop until those wandering fingertips brush across your cheek. 

All of a sudden, he's taking that last step forward. Closing the gap between your bodies. Thunder booms. Shaking the ground beneath your feat. Feels like a goddamn earthquake. But you can't think. Can't acknowledge the storm. Because Rhett's leaning in and. And. And—

"Just for me, huh?" His hot breath fans out against your lips. Noses bumping together. You've known this man your entire life. And yet. You don't recall ever being this close. But this. This. 

You've waited a lifetime for this. "Yeah."

That smile breaks across his face. The last push you need to lean in. 

You could never have imagined that Rhett Abbott's lips taste like strawberry chapstick.

It's only for a second, parting just as quickly as you'd met, eyes fluttering back open, even though you don't recall shutting them. But one kiss isn't enough. Not when Rhett's taking his hat off, pressing the brim of it flat against your shoulder blades, drawing you impossibly closer. Your arms find themselves winding around his neck as you meet him again, flowers draped haphazardly against his shoulder, long forgotten.

The storm is beginning to rage again, but all you're capable of comprehending is Rhett's mouth. Rhett's bitten lips and the barely there divot in the bottom left corner of them; remnants of a scar with a story that pains you to recall. Warm fingers grasp at your jaw, careful and delicate, keeps you grounded between every fleeting kiss. Each beginning before you've realized it; fleeting, too quick for your liking.

Maybe it's the kiss-drunk frustration that has your free hand moving, or maybe it's moving on its own; seizes that scruffy chin all the same. Two-day-old stubble scrapes against your palm as you hold him still to kiss him proper. The way you've been yearning for years.

Tiny, hard bullets strike at your exposed skin, bringing with them a rain so cold it stings. Your once quiet world dissolves into mind-numbing noise as hail bounces off of tin roofs and cracking pavement. 

"Hang onto me," Rhett murmurs against your lips, so close but so hard to hear. He's stepping forward, carting you backward, leaving you with the choice to cling to his shoulders or fall. Doesn't stop until your back is hitting a cold building wall, your body shielded by the overhang of the roof. 

"But the hail is still hitting you." Your lips are moving, but you can't hear what you're saying, not under this metal roof. There isn't enough room under it to cover him, too, not in this position; sleet striking against those broad shoulders, hail bouncing off his backside and landing by your feet.

He's tilting his hat back up, settling it right atop that soaked, tangled mop of hair. "Don't care." 

Oh, how his mouth fits against yours so perfectly. A surging tide of warmth in this mind-numbingly cold rain, the only thing keeping you from being whisked away by the howling wind. Teeth nip at your lower lip with gentle tugs that have you gasping into his wickedly talented mouth. Even the stubble that scratches at your skin can't stop you from leaning into it; discomfort be damned. 

Rhett's hands are everywhere, running up your hips, pressing into the space between your shoulder blades, curling around your jaw, tightening around your waist. So frenzied that you're distracted by their roaming until that hot, wet tongue laps against yours, and all of a sudden, you can't breathe. 

"Fuck," he gasps; it's hard to feel so guilty about needing air when he's open-mouthed, panting like a dog in the summer sun. 

Even the trembling that's settled into your hands can't stop you from trying to pull him closer, not a centimeter of space between your panting bodies. And God is Rhett trying his best to give you that; presses you flat against the wall, heaving chest bumping against yours whilst a wayward leg steps between yours—

"Ah." 

Fuck, was that you?

Rhett's thigh shifts, has another one of those sounds boiling up in your throat as it unintentionally grinds against your core. A soft pressure that you're fighting the urge to grind against; barely there but enough to have your heart rate spiking.

"Shit," Rhett's eyes have gone wide, the whites of them flashing in the poor lighting. "Did I hurt you?" 

Oblivious.

Completely, utterly oblivious. 

"'m sorry," his muttering barely audible, already beginning to reel backward, "I didn't...did I overstep?" 

Words would work just as well, but instead of opening your mouth, you find yourself stepping forward. Clinging to his wet shoulders for balance as you slot your thigh between his and raise it. Just high enough to press against that hardness that's formed in his jeans, straining against its confines. 

Those eyelashes of his flutter, eyes rolling back for the briefest second. "Oh."

As the thunder rolls once more, his thighs flex, muscles contracting beautifully as he draws your leg harder against him. You're not even getting any attention, and yet the sensation of him grinding down against you is enough to have a shiver rattling down your spine. He's leaning back in, still panting as your lips brush together once more. 

A siren pierces the air. A steady wail that has your skin prickling. Rhett's arms tighten. Drawing you into his chest. As if he can protect you from a potential tornado. 

"'ve gotta hotel down the road," he starts; between the storm and the siren, you're lucky you hear him at all, "do you maybe..."

He doesn't need to finish his sentence before you're nodding your head.

Your back hits the door so hard that the frame rattles. A sound that should be so quiet and yet sounds like it's being blasted through a megaphone, echoing down the hallway. You should be opening your eyes, looking around to see if anyone's heard it, but it's so hard to focus when Rhett's teeth graze your lips like that. 

He hardly expects you to chase him when he retreats, eagerly nipping at that thin bottom lip, gently tugging. You're not sure if it's meant to be a warning or a tease, but he's gasping into your mouth all the same. 

Next to you, his hand fumbles with the lock on the door, plastic card bumping into everything in its path on its way to swipe through the reader. Slides through once. Twice. Three times. 

No dice.

"Are you sure it's the right key?" 

"Well," drawing away, he looks over to the card reader. Tries again. Same result. "...It worked earlier." 

A shrill beep cuts through the air. And all of a sudden, you're moving backward. Treading blindly through unfamiliar territory. Unnatural gait making it hard to keep your lips on Rhett's for more than a second at a time. Broken with every step. Teeth clattering together. Feet tangling. Shoes coming off. Landing God knows where. 

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, but Rhett's still moving; all it takes is the slightest collision of bodies, and you're falling back onto the mattress. Not as gracefully as you'd like, but thankfully, Rhett can't see it. Eyes closed as he reaches behind his head, hooking his thumb under the collar of his shirt and tugging it over his head. 

You need a drink.

Or five. 

Because since when did Rhett Abbott look like he was hand sculpted by the Gods? From the moment you catch sight of the hard lines of his stomach, you know you're in trouble. And that shirt just has to rise higher, slowly revealing the swell of his chest. The biggest part of him; wide, with muscles that look big and pillowy until they flex. 

And the dull, golden lighting from the bedside lamp does nothing but cast deep shadows against where he's most defined; the fruit of a lifetime of manual labor. Built for purpose rather than appearance. Moving back out to Wabang suddenly doesn't sound so bad, not if you get to see this every day.

"I know I'm..." Rhett's reaching up, pawing a hand through his unruly hair, poorly conceals the redness that's blossomed in the tips of his ears. "Not much to look at, but..."

"I'd beg to differ." It's out of your mouth before you can realize it. Now it's your turn to sheepishly look at the wall, unwilling to let Rhett catch the horror flaming in your eyes, gaze trained on the wall.

The bed dips as he sinks down onto it, knees settling between your parted legs, slowly but surely crawling up until your faces are mere inches apart once more. Even the flexing of muscles in your peripheral cannot bring you away from your sudden interest in the tacky floral pattern the hotel has chosen for its wallpaper. 

But the kisses being peppered across your cheek definitely threatens to break your resolve.

"Hey." Kiss. "D'you wanna look at me?" Kiss. "Hm?"

You're turning to meet that next kiss, neck straining as you twist to catch those swollen lips of his. In the back of your head, you have a sneaking suspicion that yours must be in a similar state. On their own, your legs are rising, thighs hitching over his hip bones like they're meant to be shelved there. 

Thunder strikes the ground with a heavy fist, but even the earsplitting noise can't distract you from the way Rhett's hips grind down into yours. Jeans doing little to stop you from feeling the length of him, hard against your clothed cunt. Has you whining into his mouth, rising to meet him on the next roll downward. A wayward hand toys with the hem of your shirt, fingers delving just far enough to brush against skin before retreating as if you've burned him. 

"It's alright," Without a second thought, you're reaching down, taking hold of his wrist, guiding it back, "You can touch me."

"'S this my ol' shirt?" He says it as if he doesn't already know the answer, words vibrating against your lips, whilst his hand cautiously smooths up your side. Blunt nails dragging against your skin, stopping just short of the swell of your breasts. Shy. 

"No," you giggle, "I just happen to have a shirt identical to the one I hijacked from your closet." Funny; it feels like it was just yesterday. Two dumb teenagers ditching prom to go joyriding around town because their dates sucked, their clothes were too stiff, and the music was one step away from Kids Bop. 

"Looks good on you," He's humming, thumb swiping back and forth at the sensitive skin beneath your breast; not stepping that line yet, but debating. "'M sure the fella who gave it to ya was a lot more fun than the noname who got his knickers 'n a twist 'cause your dress didn't match his tie." 

You're sure you'd remember that guy's name if your attention wasn't already preoccupied with the feeling of endless muscle beneath your palms. Smoothing up Rhett's chest, stopping short of a tattoo and a scar. 

"You can touch me, cowboy," you say, and it's almost a little ironic that you're giving him permission to touch your breasts, considering the heavy cock languidly rolling against you, "I don't mind." 

Lightning flickers outside the window, just bright enough to cast a little more light on the way his eyebrows raise. "Are you sure?" 

All it takes is your shallow nod, and finally, his big, rough palm is gliding over your chest; he's not even done anything, and you're gasping. So distracted that you're caught off guard by the lips that catch yours, swallowing down your noises as a thumb swirls over a rapidly hardening nipple. 

On its own, one of your hands delves into those messy curls resting at his nape, tangling in them, pulling him down into you. His insistent mouth draws yours open, drowns you in remnants of strawberry chapstick and the vanilla candy he sucked on when he drove you here. Doesn't stop, even when your head is spinning. 

His tongue meets with yours; such a sudden appearance that you both startle as if you've been struck by a bolt of lightning for crossing such a boundary. 

You shouldn't be here; you shouldn't be beneath Rhett Abbott, shouldn't have your legs hitched over his hips, but kissing him is so natural. Easy.  Like you were always meant to be wind up here, your hands in childhood best friend's hair and his disappearing beneath the shirt you so shamelessly took from his closet all those years ago. Maybe there was a truth to those undying rumors that once followed you like a plague. 

There's a tug on the edge of your shirt, and it's a damn miracle you're able to tear your mouth off of his long enough to get it over your head. 

"Fuck," Rhett's eyes downright sparkle at the sight of you, "ain't you just beautiful." 

One kiss. Two. Three. Before he's nibbling at the junction of your jaw, working his way down to the soft spot beneath your ear, and all you're capable of is twisting your fingers in the waves of his hair. Silky soft, still damp from the rain. It's all you can do to keep yourself from floating out the window, feeling those wandering lips kiss their way down to your collarbones. Teeth nip at them, threaten to leave a mark, but never quite do. 

"This okay?" He murmurs, somewhere in between kissing, licking, his way to the valley between your breasts.

There's more to that statement because he's still talking, but you're already answering him, "More than okay."

Fuck, his mouth is boiling. Tongue like lava as it tentatively laps over your nipple, saliva threatening to burn right through you. It's all you can focus on, sinful noise rolling out of your throat long forgotten. Back and forth, he rolls that delicate skin between his teeth until he's retreating to shower his attention on the other.

"Rhett," gasping, tugging at his hair, "fuck, Rhett."

"You make my name sound like sin, sweetheart," his chuckle vibrates through your bones like the thunder that rattles this old building, "y' gettin' impatient on me?" 

Impatient? Fuck, you think you could die happy just with this. 

But he's taking your needy huff as a yes, and you can't complain, not when his hands are sliding down either side of your waist, kissing a trail down your belly. Only interrupted by the waistband of your pants, but those thick fingers are quick to curl beneath.

When you don't tell him no, he tugs. You've hardly got the strength to raise your hips off the mattress, too preoccupied with the wet spot that's long since formed at the forefront of his jeans. Don't get to see it for long because the moment your pants hit the floor, he's thumbing open his belt buckle, the old metal rattling as he tugs those tight jeans past his thighs and down his legs.

You don't recall him having so many scars littered across those long legs of his, pale white with age. One of those things you've missed out on, you suppose. 

As he settles back between your legs, running a palm up your thigh, there's a different air about him. Hesitation in his breath, bottom lip caught between pearly white teeth. Those eyes flicker up to you, almost...bashful. "'S this a bad time to admit I've never done this before?" 

Huh. 

"You mean to tell me that you look like that," you're reaching up to flick your thumb over his dusky pink nipple just to see him jump, "and nobody has tried to jump your bones yet?" 

"I...yeah, but...I only," he stammers, cheeks ablaze, can't meet your eye, "wanted...you."

The power flickers while you curl your hand around his cheek, feeling the roughness of his jaw under your palm as he leans into it. In the back of your head, you know that you'll have to talk about these feelings eventually; the ones he's so shamelessly brandished in your absence, the same ones you've avoided, fearing the heartache of unrequited love. 

But right now, all you're capable of is smiling dumbly as you lean up to kiss him. "I'll teach you," murmuring against his lips, "but you'll have to promise not to share those new skills with anyone else."

Rhett's sudden grin has your teeth clacking together. "I can work with that." He's got a pretty good start, already toying with the hem of your underwear by the time you lay back once more, obediently pulling them down your legs when you lift your hips for him. 

"C'n I...?" Deep blues trained on the sight between your legs, teeth worrying that poor, abused bottom lip.

You think he's about to start drooling.

At your encouraging nod, one of his hands falls onto your bare knee, parts your legs the slightest bit. Slow, as if you'll stop him if he moves too quickly; he leans down to press his lips to the inside of your knee. Kissing, down the delicate flesh of your thigh, unafraid to leave a shower of faint marks in his wake. Marks who have the potential to blossom into dark bruises come morning. 

Long hair cascades into his face the lower he goes; it's so easy to reach down and run your fingers through it, tangling as your hand comes to rest on the back of his head. Seems to be the only thing encouraging him to move on from your inner thigh. 

Hot breath fans out against your cunt, his mouthing hanging open, but doesn't quite have the nerve to move yet. "And you'll tell me if I do something wrong?"

For a moment, you think you catch a glimpse of that old, shy kid he used to be. The one who preoccupied himself with drawing circles into the dirt with his boot because he couldn't handle making eye contact with you. "Yeah."

This old hotel room is so quiet that you can hear the wet, barely-there sound of his mouth opening, pink tongue poking out. Then he's leaning down, licking a tentative, fat stripe up your cunt. Pauses right above your clit, and when you don't voice any complaints, licks back down. It's not much, but you're sucking in a deep breath anyway. 

He's trying. Eyebrows furrowed as he maps you out, lapping gingerly at your entrance, the only thing he seems to be generally familiar with. He's a little more confident as he nuzzles closer and slips that careful tongue inside of you. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, such a soft contact that has you whining. 

Fuck, you can't tell if the quickening of your heart is from his mouth or if it's brought on by how he blinks up at you with those curious ocean blues. Knows he's doing something right because he's rising back up to where his nose was just bumping into you. 

"This shit's hard when you can't see what you're doing," he chuckles directly into you, doesn't seem to realize his lips are brushing against your clit as he speaks. 

The hand in his hair reaches down, taking hold of that scruffy jaw of his, "Right..." lifting him just a smidge higher; fuck, now he's found it, "here." 

Humming, Rhett's eyes flutter closed, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your newly-located clit. Takes it between his lips just to delicately roll it back and forth, sends a delicious shiver right up your spine. 

"Rhett," whining his name. Fighting the urge to squirm against the mattress. 

Maybe you made a mistake by helping him. Because now that he's found your clit, he's not giving it a moment's rest. Drawing intelligible shapes into it with his tongue, ventures away just long enough to make you think he's done, then returns with a surprising, sloppy vengeance. Downright drooling into you, drenching you so thoroughly that the fingers nudging at your entrance slide in with ease. 

Albeit muffled, the sound of your name meets your ringing ears, "fuck, you taste good." Soft noises rumbling out of him, eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks so prettily. 

It's as if that initial shyness has completely melted off of him, downright collapses against the bed. Free arm hooking around your thigh and grounding you doesn't let you squirm away from the two thick fingers sliding into you. Deliberate in the way they hook, massaging against your walls in search of something he knows is there.

Your hips twitch. 

"That it?" Lord, he really has no issue speaking into your pussy, doesn't he? Doesn't care that his deep voice sends a wave of tingles burning up into your chest. All he's focused on is laving his dumb, hot tongue over that swollen bud and teasing that sweet spot he's found. 

Abrupt hail beats against the window, wind screams as it whips around the building, so loud that your gasp is rendered inaudible. There could be a tornado outside your door, and all you can care about is prying your eyes open to look at Rhett fucking Abbott. Tongue hanging out, curls framing the sight of him buried between your legs. 

Heat grows in your lower belly. An invisible coil winding tighter and tighter. Fuck, you're, you're—

"Please," struggling for air, your voice strained, "stop." 

Everything goes black.

But your eyes are...open. 

"Fuckin' hate this town," Rhett mutters under his breath, the faintest whisper of his voice; your giggle is louder than his words. "Hold on, think I got a light."

The bed rises as he clambers off of it, taking with him his ever-so-warm presence. Leaves you to shift against the bed, blinking dumbly as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Oh, how you have not missed the joy of Wabang power outages. 

Something small hits the bed, rolls until it bumps against your naked hip. Feels like some sort of tube, not the flashlight you were expecting. 

"Did you get lost?" You croak, twisting your head to look in the corner next to the bed. Where the hell did he go?

"'m down here." It's hard to catch, but there's sudden movement down by your feet. That old belt buckle chimes as Rhett riffles through his jeans. The sound stops. And then. Light. 

"Forgot this dumb phone had a flashlight in it," he's yet to outgrow that sheepish grumble, light bouncing as he meanders to the bedside table. The phone doesn't create much light at all, hardly illuminates the room when he places it down, but it's enough. Even if it casts heavy shadows across Rhett's body, right down to...

"Good lord."

Rhett's attention snaps back to you. "What?"

But you...will be keeping your thoughts to yourself. Maybe the light is playing tricks on you. Because there is no way he's that well endowed. Thicker more than anything, cock leaning to the left, flushed red tip shiny and leaking against his hip. 

The lube resting against your hip is about to become your best friend here in a minute. 

"What?" He repeats, the corner of his lip rising as he settles back down on the bed, back in his place between your legs. God, his chin is dripping from you. Shimmering in the light. "'s there a monster lurkin' in here with us?"

"Yes," and you will not be elaborating. 

That halfway smile explodes into a dopey grin. Seems to know what you're referring to as he reaches for that neglected bottle of lube. 

It's not a trick of the light. The size of him never miraculously changes, even as that big hand of his strokes a generous amount of lube over himself. Explains why he drizzles more over his fingers, pushes them back into you once more with a sickly wet sound. 

"D'you need more, first?" He asks. The both of you fully aware that even though he's got three fingers in you now, pumping into you in slow, careful strokes, it may not be enough. 

It takes you a moment to decide, "I think I'm alright."

One of his hands falls down by your side, muscles rippling as he braces his weight on it, while the other...

The first kiss of his cockhead against your pussy has you gasping. Doesn't quite jump into pushing into you, instead pushing upward, spreading your lips around him as he rubs against you. 

Your mouth opens, ready to hurry him up, but he's already heard what you're going to say. 

"I know," he chirps, eyes rolling, "I know."

There's a newfound pressure between your legs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your delicate, dripping entrance. Pushing past that twitching ring of muscle, a pair of gasps dancing through the air, can't quite tell who made which sound.

Rhett's swearing under his breath, little incantations of filthy words that somehow don't measure up to how obscene it feels to stretch open around him. Lube audibly squishes as you struggle to relax and take that cock of his.

"Fuck," he's barely got the tip of himself inside of you, and he's already crumbling. Unable to sit upright anymore, forearms bracing his weight on either side of your head, muscles downright shivering. "'re you okay, doll?" His hips stalling.

"Keep moving, cowboy." You don't know when you started reaching up, but your arms are looping around Rhett's neck, drawing him down to meet your lips. Short. Messy. Can't close your mouth for more than a second at a time. 

It's hard to recall what gave you so much confidence to begin with because it's long since washed away by the drag of his blunt head against your walls. So thick that he rubs right past that sensitive bundle of nerves, you don't recognize the sound it draws out of your bitten lips. Thighs fluttering, clamping down on those strong hips of his, unable to so much as squirm. All you can do is whimper and take it. 

"C'n feel you flutterin' 'round me," he grunts against your lips, voice breathy. It's hard to even voluntarily clamp down around him, all to watch his head jolt backward, eyes falling closed. So, so sensitive, and he's only halfway in you. "Fuck, sweetie."

His head drops into your neck, breath warming the skin there, unintentionally gives you a picture-perfect view of his back. A myriad of smooth muscles flexing under the effort of keeping himself up as he pushes into you. So captivating that you hardly realize he's long since quit moving, hips flush with yours.

It's hard to breathe. As if you can't get enough air into your lungs. Nerves wound so tight you fear they'll snap if Rhett so much as twitches inside of you. 

"You okay?" His voice sounds so different, an octave lower, gravelly, unruly hair hanging low in his face as he lifts his head.

Involuntarily, you clench down around him. A little flex of muscle that has the both of you closing your eyes. "I think so." 

By the time he works up the courage to draw back, the arms bracketing your head are shaking. Maybe you'd have the nerve to tease him if that first shallow thrust into you didn't effectively erase every thought from your head. You can't tell if it's beginner's luck or an advantage of being so thick, but he massages against your sweet spot so nicely. 

Your hands are sliding down his pale back, nails biting into the muscle there, "just like that."

"Yeah?" You've forgotten how wonderful that cocky tone sounds on him. He's drawing back a little further this time, albeit slow on that second, careful push back into you. Like he'll break you if he moves too quickly.

Countless times you've pictured this exact scenario in your head; two of you tangled up in a hotel room bed, crossing the one line you were told not to. Steamy dreams depicting a man who fucks you up against the wall, unafraid to take what's his, and whistful daydreams of a cowboy who treats you like royalty as he makes a mess of you.

Never once did this manifest in your thoughts. 

His lips ghosting over your features, unable to stay in one place too long. Shamelessly fucks you slow on this thick cock of his, works his way up to deep strokes that make your nails bite into his skin, drowning in the wet drag that makes you feel every inch of him. Outside, the storm rages on, a chaos of noises that these old walls fail to muffle.

But it's still too quiet. 

Lightning flickers outside. Lights up the room as you reach out to pry his lip out from between his teeth. 

"I wanna hear you," you murmur, squeezing your legs around his hips. 

Rhett's eyes avert; can't look you in the eye, despite being so deep inside of you that you can feel his heavy balls pressing into your skin. "Shits embarrassin'."

"It's just me, dummy," as if to emphasize your words, you're leaning up to catch his lips in your own. Unwilling to let him stifle his noises any longer, swallowing down the reluctant whines you draw right out of him. 

Such a simple sound that has you clamping down around his cock, downright shivering around him. Only serves to illicit a breathy whimper of your name, starts a downward spiral that you don't think you'll ever come back from.

Your dominant hand is reaching down, fingertips finding your swollen, nearly forgotten clit. A particularly hard thrust has you breaking away from his lips, head hitting the mattress with a soft cry. That initial slowness is starting to fray at the seams, and you don't think you're going to survive it.

"Rhett," your voice is strained, barely there.

Deliberate, he repeats it. A wet noise tearing through the room. Once. Twice. Until he's finding a rhythm, strokes punctuated by his breathy gasps for air and pitchy noises. You don't know if it's the sound of him or the delicious way his fat cockhead kisses that little bundle of nerves, but a familiar heat is blooming in your belly regardless.

"'M sorry, I can't help myself," Rhett sputters, words nearly lost to the obscene squelch between your legs. Lube and your own wetness creating a downright mess. "Feel so fuckin' good 'round me."

Every thrust has your body rocking against the bed, almost can't keep your fingers on your tingling clit. It's a fight just to find your voice."Fuck you like you mean it, Rhett."

When you said that, you hadn't expected him to lean back onto his haunches, big palms splaying around your hips, as he fucks into you with purpose. This cheap mattress is starting to squeak, loud enough to be heard in the room next to yours, but you're so preoccupied with the sight between your legs that you can't be brought to care.

His cell phone light casts just enough light for you to catch sight of his thick cock disappearing between your legs. So wet that it's shiny, catching in the light and drawing your eyes back to it every time you go to look away. Powerless to stop him from fucking you how he wants, bullying those sensitive nerves until you're lightheaded, head rolling backward. 

"Close," Rhett warns. If you knew where your voice went, you'd be muttering much of the same. 

You find yourself fluttering around him again, heat tightening in your belly as he all but collapses on top of you. Face buried in your neck once more, deep, guttural sounds spilling into your skin as the rhythm of his hips begins to falter. Twitchy. Thrusts shortening. Rhett's name is tumbling off your lips. The fingers on your clit growing shaky. Legs clenching around him. 

"Rhett," supposed to be a warning. Something. Anything. 

But it's too late. Pointless. Without further warning, your body goes taut. Back arching, shaking, as that heat spreads and washes over you, cumming around Rhett's spasming cock with a strangled cry. Can feel his hips stall against yours, his whimpered cry muffled by your shoulder. 

Distantly, you're aware of how full you still are. Know that he hasn't pulled out in the slightest, cock twitching as his sticky, hot cum fills you. That's probably another line you weren't supposed to cross, but to hell with it. 

The darkness behind your eyelids suddenly isn't so dark anymore. And as you pry them open, you find yourself nearly blinded. 

Seems the power came back. 

Rhett's already beginning to peel his sweaty body away from yours, albeit at a snail's pace. Fixated on the obscene sight of where your bodies connect, so wet that one of you will likely need to change the sheets after this. The light of his phone was decent, but the bedside lamp properly illuminates him. Cheeks pink, lips so bitten you're surprised he hasn't drawn blood.

"Didn't mean to..." he pants, voice barely there, "didn't mean to cum inside you." Those and of his are moving your legs on their own, parting them, gives himself a better view as he slowly pulls out of you. "I think can see the appeal, though."

And as his eyes flick up to drink up your expression, corner of his lip rising, the thought of cleanup doesn't sound so bad.

You don't recall your bed ever being this warm. 

Or...lumpy, for that matter. 

This isn't your bed.

But even so, opening your eyes is a tremendous task that you take on as slowly as you can. Taking a deep breath, feeling the stiff sheets move with your body, nose catching a hint of coffee and something fresh, crisp. Identical to the Autumn breeze that filters through Wabang every year, used to nip at your skin as you waited on that slow school bus to pick you and Rhett up. 

Your eyes snap open. A switch flipped.

This isn't your bed. 

And this isn't your childhood bedroom, either. 

This hotel room is familiar, though. Tacky, from the wallpaper to the choice of decor. Bed frame built to appear as if it's been constructed by scrap pieces of chopped wood, an iron sign of a momma bear and her cubs hanging on the wall behind your head. So painfully trademark of Wabang that it hurts. 

There are flowers on the bedside table. Familiar red tulips and vivid yellow sunflowers precariously placed in a thin, plastic cup. A second cup sits on top of the first, upside down, the bottom crudely cut out for the stems to fit through it. A makeshift support. You recognize that craftmanship. As if your thoughts have manifested his appearance, the bathroom door squeals open. 

There he is. 

Severely lacking a shirt, in nothing but his old, sun-bleached jeans, the longer ends of his hair tied back into a small ponytail. His left-hand nurses a cup of coffee, and the right, carefully supported by an off-white brace. That wrist never really did heal the same, another one of those free rodeo trophies. 

"Mornin, sleepy head," he chirps, and the roughness in his voice suggests he hasn't been up for long, "thought you'd never wake up."

"My dignity can't take dying in a tacky hotel room," you don't recognize your voice. Strangely raw. 

Sitting up requires some effort. Body still half-asleep, limbs downright useless as you drag yourself up from the mattress to take a better look around the room. Are those...your clothes on the floor?

Images flash through your head. Blurry, there and gone in the blink of an eye. Memories flood back into the forefront of your mind like a bad dream. What did you do? Why did you do it? There's absolutely no going back from this—

The bed dips as Rhett settles onto the edge of the mattress. And though you're searching for a hint, a suggestion, of regret, you fail to find it. He's all meek smiles and red ears as he leans over to place his cup on the table. Flashing a series of marks on his back, pale pink in color. 

His good hand comes down to squeeze your knee through the comforter, just like it always does. "About last night..."

You don't regret it. And by the looks of it, neither does he. Has no problem locking eyes with you; something unknown burning behind those deep blue eyes as teeth sink into his thin bottom lip. Lips you would give both your kidneys just to kiss one more time. As you drag your attention away from his mouth, your eyes meet once more. 

The corner of his lip draws upward. 

You don't know who moves first. All you know is that you're surging forward, he's catching your needy mouth in his, and you're falling back into the sheets as one. Hands exploring, pawing at what little clothing dares get between you, hearts aching for more, more, more.

Words can wait a little longer. 

#rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #ao3 oneshot #oneshot #rhett abbott outer range #outer range fic #outer range #outer range amazon #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #reader self insert #self insert #x reader #reader insert

[floydsmuse]

just thinking about you telling Rhett that he’s got a cute butt, which evidently catches him off guard & a blush creeps up onto his cheeks. he looks over at you all smug & the next time he walks past a mirror he turns to subtly check himself out, nodding, & silently confirming that he does in fact have a cute ass 🫠

#this is so random but like i could picture it so well?? #😭😭 #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic #rhett x reader #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

[ohtobeleah]

Outer My Mind / Rhett Abbott

Chapter One: America Is Wrong

Summary: Rhett Abbott, found a distraction from his grief in the form on Maria Olivares when she came back to Wabang. You? Well—you lost yourself and became a recluse of sorts. Until Rhett found out you needed help fixing the boundary fence.

Warnings: Rhett Abbott x F!reader. Miscommunication. Mentions of miscarriage. Mental health issues. Best Friends to Lovers Trope.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author Note: It’s been a while. But out boy Rhett deserved some attention this week. Outer My Mind Masterlist

“They aren’t serious about him riding Mickey Bull are they?” You asked Perry curiously as he handed you a beer. Taking a sip, you watched as Rhett settled onto the back of his latest bucking bull. Mickey Bull. “Oh fuck, he’s in for a real treat isn’t he?” You chuckled as Perry nudged at your shoulder, agreeing that this wouldn’t be Rhett’s best ride. 

“He’ll be fine, he knows what he’s doing.” Perry replied through the corner of his mouth as he clapped and hollered out for Rhett. You did the same, perched up in the crowd with Rhett’s family, cheering him on with all the love and support you could. Because that’s what you and Rhett did. 

Things had been complicated to say the least the last two months—some days you felt like the world had ended. Others felt like it had just begun. 

“Go Rhett!!” You shouted as he came barreling through the gates, holding on for dear life as Mickey Bull tried to rid his back of Rhett Abbott. “Hold on Rhett, hold on!!” 

“Well Folks, you gotta love the effort!” The announcement came through the speakers and the buzzer sounded. 

“Ohh—!” Perry cringed as you buried your face in his shoulder, squinting your eyes shut at the sight of Rhett hitting the deck and hitting the deck hard. It wasn’t long enough—you knew it, Perry knew it and above all you knew Rhett knew it too. 

“It wasn’t enough, I’m not advancing.” Rhett mumbled from inside the fence as you stood between Royal and Perry. The found family that had somewhat adopted you, especially since you lost your dad a few months back. Royal Abbott knew you were as strong willed and as stupid as your old man had been. But that didn’t mean you were any less deserving of company. 

“Ah you did fine.” Royal sighed, he didn’t agree. “That bull hasn’t ridden well in forever.” 

“Yeah that was a bullshit bull Rhett—“ You couldn’t help but to laugh as Perry cussed his daughter out for using bad language, she looked to you like you had her back or something. “What? Y/n said it, not me!” 

“Aye now, I said Mickey bull was a bad ride, that didn’t mean you could say he was bullshit.” You pulled Amy close as you picked her up to piggy back her. She draped her arms around your shoulders as you stood back up. “You did as good as you could with the hand you were dealt, Rhett.” You sighed as you looked at Rhett like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you. 

“Thanks Rebel.” 

Expect those stars were never meant for you. They were always meant for Maria. Rhett spotted her in the crowd and couldn’t keep his eyes off her. You looked to where the trajectory of his eyes were going and you just knew. 

Always the bridesmaid and never the bride. Forever the friend and never the wife. 

“We’ll see you at home.” Cecilia cooed as she reached out for her son's hand. He nodded softly, confirming what she already knew as you turned back to Rhett. 

You would never be the one he hung stars for. 

And that was just something you were going to have to accept and move on from. Because as Rhett looked at Maria like anyone with working eyes could see you looked at him, your heart sank into your stomach as you let a hand rest against your stomach. Still holding Amy on your back. 

Hoping for a little kick that wouldn’t come. Because you’d lost your baby two months ago and Rhett hadn’t said a word about it since. 

Rhett’s baby. The mistake that you’d made in a drunken accident that never should have happened. Two months had passed and you still couldn’t sleep, could eat, couldn’t think. Couldn’t get yourself to move on. 

But as you watched Rhett smile up at Maria in the crowd as you looked back over your shoulder, you knew Rhett was fine. He’d moved on, he could sleep and eat and ride. He'd let you go and all he could have owed you go. 

“I just need you to be you, Rhett.” You could remember asking as you walked away. Not entirely sure you were ready to be truly alone. “I just need you to be you, Rhett.” 

But you knew you were entirely alone. Teetering on the edge of Heaven and Hell was a battle that you couldn’t fight. Not alone. So you fell and you could already feel yourself spinning out of control from the fall. 

***~***~***~***One Month Later & The Events Of Outer Range Season One***~***~***~***~

“God dammit—“ You huffed as you came to a stand still on top of the ridge. Looking out across the now empty paddock, you could just see that your herd of cattle had taken it upon themselves to head on over to Spencer’s Cutting, the creek that ran through seven of the eleven properties that littered the small country backyard of Amilia Counties far west. 

The border fence that you’d only just fixed a few months ago was down again, some crazy herd of bison had trampled it to oblivion and beyond last night.

“Alright Chester—Let’s load up the truck hey?” You reached down to pat Chesters chest as he blew air through his nose and stomped a single horse shoe into the ground. “Atta boy, let’s go.” 

It was a fact you were going to have to accept, after about a month of solitude besides grocery runs and farming supply top ups, you needed to accept you were going to have to head on over to the Abbotts place. Your post hole digger was still busted—had been since before you dad passed. And with the boundary fence down and your cows running a muck down in Spencer’s Cutting—you needed a fucking post hole digger. 

Abbott Ranch was the closest in proximity, it only made sense. The last time you’d spoken to Rhett was at that rodeo where he barely made it through to nationals. It wasn’t all his fault, you were partly to blame—but in the month following he’d made not a single attempt to check in with you. See how you were doing. You hadn’t seen him since Trevor Tillerson's funeral, and even then you didn’t stick around to chat. 

The drive over felt as unfamiliar and unfair as it was engraved into your heart. You’d driven this road a million times and would do so a million times more. It was only as you turned off the gravel road onto the dirt drive of the Abbott Ranch that your heart sunk to your arse. 

And it sucked knowing that a thief came into your home and stole your peace, your lack of boundaries gave them permission. You were just the gift that kept on giving. First you let Rhett slip between your fingers, then you stepped away the moment you knew Maria was back in town thinking it would protect your heart to not see a thing. 

Turns out that hurt more. 

You were just a Santa Claws to her, just with no Christmas and no returns. But there was no excuse you could give yourself to excuse yourself from not putting yourself first because you were afraid to lose the only person you thought ever cared enough about you to give you the time of day. 

If Rhett didn’t want you? You weren’t about to grovel. If he wanted Maria Olivares then that’s who he could have. 

You weren’t a constellation prize, not even for your best friend.

“So she’s alive huh?” Royal chuckled to himself as he and Rhett countered the castle in the yards ready for market. Rhett didn’t quite catch what his dad had said until he looked up and saw your Ute kicking up a plume of red dirt behind it as you slowly crept up the drive. “Haven’t seen Rebel in just over a month—I thought she’d dropped off the face of the earth.” 

Had it really been that long? Rhett thought to himself as he went back to counting the cattle. One by one until there wasn’t any left to count. He watched with a slight glare your way as you pulled up, opened your door and stood from your car seat. 

“Hey Royal—“ You started, tilting your hat his way as he did so you. You turned for a brief moment to acknowledge Rhett, but he’d already looked away. Too ashamed that he’d all but forgotten about you for an entire month while he’d been off chasing a girl who was beyond him. 

So you didn’t bother saying hello. You didn’t bother saying anything at all. Rhett has suddenly become a stranger to you and honestly? You didn’t mind. Not if it meant that you were screaming at a brick wall begging for him to love you the same way you knew he knew you loved him. 

“Rebel—how you been?” Royal asked with a crooked smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while?” That man barely knew how to be happy and it showed in the lines on his tired face. 

“Ah you know me, overworked and under fucked.” You chuckled at the way Royal cringed at your forwardness and missed the soft laugh that escaped from Rhett’s heart. “I need to borrow your post hole digger?” You asked in more of a i'm not asking but telling you I’m about to borrow your post whole digger tone. “Boundary fence is down in the south pasture, guess that herd of Bison took it out last night.” 

Royal wasn’t inclined to not believe you. He’d been out there when they came barreling through. 

“I’ll take Perry if he’s around too. Need an extra pair of hands if you’ve got ‘em to spare.” 

“Post hole diggers in the shed.” Royal pointed. “But Perry’s not here, you can take Rhett though we’re just about finished here.” Oh how you couldn’t have thought of a worse idea. Redoing the boundary fence on your own was going to take a few days, if not the entire week. But doing it by yourself would be far less painstaking than rebuilding whatever broken friendship remained between you and Rhett.

“I’ll just take the post hole digger then.” You looked back to Rhett who had finally drawn his attention to you. You looked good, really good. “Thanks, I’ll just grab it and be on my way.” 

“No problem Rebel, keep yourself well.” Royal was quick to wave you off as you kept your gaze locked on Rhett a little longer than you should have. It was like a guilty pleasure to look at him, to stare into his ocean blue eyes that held so much promise behind them. 

Rhett Abbott could be anything he wanted to, if only he believed he could. 

“Will do—“ You tipped your hat and started up the drive, slamming your door behind you as Rhett watched you disappear up towards the shed. 

“What the hell did you do that’s so bad that she’d rather put that boundary fence up herself than have you give her a hand Rhett?” Royal asked as he finished up at the gate, making sure the snap lock was on tight and secure. 

“I didn’t do nothin’—“ Rhett grumbled out of the corner of his mouth. “Haven’t seen her in a while is all.” 

“Any particular reason that might be?” Royal had been the one who eventually picked Rhett and Maria up after he totaled his truck at the America is wrong sign late last night. Royal knew he was set on running—all Rhett had ever wanted to do was run. But even at the edge of what could have been freedom, something kept him tethered to Wabang. 

Someone by the name of you.

“Or anyone perhaps? Because I know all you’ve ever wanted was the Y/l/n girl—and judging by the fact it was that Olivares girl in your truck last night on the edge of town, I'm assuming you finally came to your senses and realised that she wasn’t who you thought you wanted.” Royal chuckled to himself as he took his gloves off and shoved them in his back pocket. “Now I can’t do math worth a damn but if two and two equals four Rhett then what the fuck are you doing here helping me still and not going after that Y/l/n girl?” 

Rhett thought on it for a moment, he stood there in the silence of the afternoon sun and watched the drive away up to the shed. 

“Rebels cows are probably out if the south boundary is down—I’m gonna go check down at Spencer’s Cutting for her, see if I can herd em up.” 

“Sure, you do that Mr. Casinova—“ Royal couldn’t help but to chuckle as he tapped Rhett on the shoulder. He still didn’t know about Perry. 

No one knew about Perry. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Rhett didn’t wait up for you to finish loading up the post hole digger before he set off. He was off before you even put your truck in reverse. 

You thought you’d get a little peace and quiet in the burning heart of the mid afternoon as you tried your best to fix the boundary fence. It was a mess. It was technically a two person job at the bare minimum and if you were being completely honest with yourself it probably wasn’t a good idea to try and attempt to fix it on your own. But you had something to prove. 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” You groaned as you tried to feed the wire through to no avail. “Come on—“ 

“Need a hand?” Rhett called out as he came to a standstill, his horse Ranger looked at you as if he knew him being here was a bad idea too. 

“Not from you, that’s for sure.” You barely looked at Rhett, it made his heart ache inside his chest a little more than he was comfortable with. “You checkin in on me Abbott?” 

“Depends if you need to be checked in on?” Rhett chuckled as he lowered himself from off his horse, watching as you finally got the wire to feed through the small hole you’d drilled. You’d happily take the small wins to combat the overwhelming losses. “Guess I lost track of time, having seen you in a while?” 

“Yeah well, time slips by when your tunnel visioned, doesn’t it?” You kept working as Rhett stood hovering in your sunlight, casting a shadow down on you that left you cold and heartless. “How’s things going with Maria anyway?” 

“I dunno if they’re even going.” Rhett sighed, he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong by you. “We uh, we were heading outta town last night—“ 

“Ah, so you were finally gonna get away were you?” You chuckled as you shook your head in disbelief. “So what are you doing here annoying me for if you were so close to freedom Rhett?” 

If Rhett were honest he hated the way you kept working through your conversation, barely giving him the time of day. Beggars couldn’t be choosers though could they? He hadn’t been around to see you in a month or so. 

“Same herd of bison that busted the fence sent me off roading into the sign on the main road.” He explained. “Couldn’t really get the hell outta dodge without a truck could I?” The conversation seemed cold, one sided even. You really didn’t wanna know and you sure as shit didn’t care. “Maria was pretty upset when I called someone to come get us, she was as pretty keen on leaving town.” 

“She left, didn’t she?” You asked just for curiosity's sake, Rhett was quick to nod in response, quietly pressing his lip together in a solemn line. 

“Left this morning—text me to meet her at the cafe but I just couldn’t”. 

“Smart—yeah good strategy Rhett, hey I bet she was real pleased when you pulled the rug out from underneath her.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhett remained silent after he asked you that as he watched you work. There was a fire in you he hadn’t seen before, you were angry at something, someone. Probably him. “Rebel?” 

“People are like dogs Rhett, you kick 'em around enough they’ll start thinking they did something to deserve it.” You paused momentarily to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you looked to Rhett like you didn’t have a clue who he was anymore. “If you love her and you wanna be with her and the two of you really want to leave this place behind then you would have gone with her no hesitation.” Rhett watched as you fed the wiring through the post. You could do this by yourself—you didn’t need Rhett or anyone else for that matter. “Don’t lead her on, you tell her straight how it is or else she’ll start to think she did something wrong and that’s not fair on nobody.” 

“What do I say to her?” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. “Hell you told me you’d be there for me but I haven’t heard from you in a month—“ You paused what you were doing and rose to your feet to meet Rhett’s gaze. “So tell her whatever you need to do to make it easy to walk away I guess.” 

“Rebel—“ 

“You’re really good at that.” You weren't going to give Rhett a chance. It was best he knew that now before he even tried. “Go home Rhett, I’ve got it from here.” 

“Your cows are still out—“ 

“If you having fucking noticed Abbott I don’t have a fence up to keep em in!” You hissed. “Can you just—god can you just leave me to be in peace? I’ve been fine all on my own for the past month and I don’t need you coming around pretending you care because if you cared even a little about me? You wouldn’t have forgotten I live right next door—a beer and a hi you doing alright would’ve sufficed.“ 

“I’ve had a lot going on, if you hadn’t noticed I was being accused of murder!” Rhett spat at you as you rose to your feet finally. “None of us know where Amy and Perry are at the moment either.” Rhett added before he took a turn at you, shoving the blame back on your shoulders. “And where the fuck where you when I needed you huh? No call no text not a fucking word from you so don’t you dare take the high ground on this when you and I both know you couldn’t reached out too!” 

“I’m sorry I was busy trying to get over the loss of our child!” You shoved at Rhett's chest so hard he faulted back. He stumbled a little as you smashed your fist against his shoulder. “Remember that? Huh, tough guy!” You didn’t hold back as you raised your voice and shoved at Rhett again. “We were gonna have a child together and suddenly I was fucking nobody to you!” 

“Rebel stop—!” Rhett pleased as he tried to catch your wrist as you hammered into his chest. “Stop! It’s been three months!” At that moment you truly didn’t know who Rhett had become over the last month. You felt sick as your hand came up to rest against your stomach. Rhett saw the look in your eye’s and immediately backtracked. He didn’t mean that, he knew he said it but that’s not what he meant. “Rebel I didn’t mean that—“ 

“Are you saying that I should just get over it? Like you did?” You could have strangled him, Rhett had unintentionally crossed a line no man should ever go near let alone cross. “Get the hell off my property before I shoot you in the goddamn foot!” 

“Y/n wait, that’s not what I meant it’s just—“ Rhett tried to reach out but all you did was step back. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“You’re a bastard—“ You and Rhett stood what felt like a million miles apart but in reality you were face to face. “For the record, you stopped choosing me and you stopped caring about me the second she walked back into town.” 

Rhett hated what the two of you had become. 

“You’re my best friend? My only friend?” Rhett sighed as he reached out to thumb at your cheek. He curled his digits into your hair and pulled you closer. “Hey—I’m right here yeah?” There was nothing Rhett could say that could make you feel the slightest bit full. You were entirely empty and exhausted. “I’m right here, look at me?” 

But you couldn’t look at the man you loved for a second more without wanting to burst into flames. 

“I could never just be friends with you Rhett and you know that.” Being this close to Rhett after so long was really doing a number on your sanity. He was your home and suddenly you couldn’t recognise the photos on the walls or the layout of the living room. “Your eyes remind me of the nights we spent together.” You admitted softly, just barely above a whisper as Rhett trailed the pad of his thumb across your cheek to catch the tears that spilled over your lash line. “I can’t look in the eyes I once saw a future together in and I can’t look in the eyes of the father of the child I’ll never get to watch grow up.” You pushed yourself away before you could completely lose yourself and turned your back on Rhett. “I can’t be just your friend—“

“Rebel im—“ Rhett had no words, he couldn’t formulate a sentence that could even come close to being enough of an apology. He couldn’t say he didn’t know you loved him and he couldn’t say he didn’t love you back. He was just confused. He thought he knew what he wanted but now that you were standing in front of him telling him that you’d given him all that you could—Rhett wanted to take all his actions back. He wanted you back. “I’m sorry—“ 

“I don’t need your apology, Rhett.” You spoke over your shoulder. “I just need you off my damn property because your part in my story is finished and I have no intention of letting you back in close enough to hurt me.” 

In the silence of the afternoon sun Rhett watched you return to your work like he wasn’t still standing there. 

“It was my baby too, you know.” Was all Rhett said as you went back to working on the boundary fence. Your heart burned inside your chest. “You lost our baby and you wanna blame me for everything—“ Again, you said nothing. You simply picked up the pair of wire cutters and used them to twirl the wire around a few times before cutting it off. “Fine Rebel, you wanna be petty?” Rhett snapped. “Your cows are wandering dangerously close to the Tillerson's property.” Rhett explained as he mounted back onto Ranger.

 “Round 'em up yourself, miss ‘can do’.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: 🏷️ @bradshawseresinbabe @seresinsaint @lewmagoo @delopsia @xoxabs88xox @jynxmirage @pono-pura-vida @lumpypoll @thinemineours

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott imagine

[withahappyrefrain]

If your requests are still open, please may I request number 23 from the fluff list for our favourite cowboy Rhett Abbott? I've never watched Outer Range but thanks to Tumblr I'm now obsessed with him 😍 I am also crazy obsessed with your writing and have spent most of my lunch hour reading through your work. You are one talented lady 😘

Hello folks, I present Smitten!Rhett. Some language, lots of pining. I can't write a blurb to save my life.

Shoutout to @rae-gar-targaryen for reading over this and giving amazing feedback and being the reason why I was able to end this fic

You stood out like a sore thumb at the bar. 

The neon lights highlighted your sweet smile. How your eyes lit up and the corners around them crinkled. The way your nose slightly scrunched up as you waved your delicate hand to the bartender. The flex of your jaw as you called out your drink order.

Rhett couldn't take his eyes off you. Every motion, every little gesture, every small change was memorizing.

It made no sense to him that an angel like you was in a place like this. Not the bar, but Wabang of all the places. It just didn't add up. 

He was already three glasses of straight whiskey in. Normally that wouldn't bother him. Certainly wouldn't stop him from going up to you and making a move, just like he did with all the other buckle bunnies.

But that's not what you were. Rhett couldn't put his finger on it, but you were different somehow. He just knew it. So he just stayed in the corner of the bar, stealing glances when he could, observing you chat to other folks.

Disappointment flared through his heart when he saw you accept your check from the bartender. A whole night had gone by and all he had done was just stare at you.

Disappointment was beginning to morph into anger at himself when the most incredulous thing happened.

You peered up through your lashes, your bright eyes meeting his.

And then you smiled at him.

Your smile put him at ease. Rhett could feel all the tension leave his body, a lightness replacing the anger and bitterness he could never shake off until now.

By the time he had processed it, you were gone.

So Rhett looked for you everywhere after that night. He offered to go to the store, go into town for any little thing. He even went to church with Cecelia and Amy.

Not that he paid any attention to what the pastor was saying. Instead, his cerulean eyes searched for your face amongst the crowd, desperate for another encounter-one where he could actually talk to you.

Who needed heaven when you existed?

After no luck the following week, Rhett began to sink into despair. It was entirely possible  that you had just stopped by that one night, a pitstop in-between visits. It was entirely possible he would never learn your name, much less what your voice sounded like. You would just represent a million what-if's, a million regrets, a million-

"Can I get a gin and tonic?"

Rhett gripped the glass of whisky in his hand. The voice was sweet and lithe. It was comforting, like finding an old toy from your childhood that had been tucked away for many years.

Part of him didn't want to look, afraid to find disappointment. He shouldn't be afraid, considering all the disappointments life had handed him in the past.

Somehow he got the courage to look up. and suddenly, all the other nights he had come in to only leave alone and disheartened were worth it. There you were, at the bar, just a few feet away.

Rhett's eyes followed you as you grabbed your drink and walked over to a booth. You were alone.

Maybe you were waiting for other folks to show up. Maybe friends, maybe a date. Rhett's stomach lurched at the thought.

He didn't usually have a problem going up to girls and talking to them. In fact, he was known for it. He knew all the tricks; a tip of the hat to them, cranking up the drawl in his voice like a dial on an old radio, as he leaned in to whisper something dirty in their ear that he never meant, but it would get them into bed with him that night. 

And yet, the only thing he could (barely) get out when he walked up to you was, "Is-is this seat taken?"

You looked up to find eyes as deep as the sea staring at you.

A hesitant smile stretched across your face as you took him in. Meanwhile, Rhett was trying to count all the different hues in your eyes.

"Depends on what you're hoping to get out of it," you told him before taking another sip of your drink.

"A conversation?" He looked down at his feet, hoping you wouldn't be able to see that the tops of his cheeks were turning pink. Rhett feels himself flush with an uncommon sense of embarrassment, he feels stupid for thinking someone like you would want to talk to some cowboy who's more known for the notches on his bedpost than the number of successful rodeos he's been in.

Rhett was about to turn around, mumbling an apology when your voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I'd like that."

It wasn't until you motioned to the empty spot next to you that Rhett believed what you said.

Talking to you was the easiest thing he had ever done. The conversation flowed freely as you two talked about anything and everything under the artificial lights of the bar.

You were new to town. The reason Rhett never saw you throughout the day was because you were a teacher at the local elementary school. It was also why you didn't come to the bar that often. You taught fourth grade, the solar system was your favorite subject to teach and you had a cat named Rusty.

Rhett was a man of few words, except apparently when it came to you. For the first time since God knows when, he found himself comfortable talking about himself. What bull riding was like, growing up on a ranch, dumb shit he did in high school.

Every time self-doubt began to creep its way into his head, trying to tell him that no one, especially you, wanted to hear him, your bright eyes and sweet smile reassured him.

He liked it. He liked you.

Which was why when he saw sleep in your eyes, he said "We should do this again."

"I think we should," you grinned, the gesture making Rhett's heart flutter.

And so that's what you two did. You would meet up, sometimes at the bar, sometimes at the local diner. Occasionally, Rhett would take you out to the pasture and the two of you would lie in the bed of his trunk with pillows and blankets while you watched the stars.

No matter the location, the two of you would just talk, learning about each other as much as possible. Trying to make each other smile as much as possible.

"You have a great smile, you should show it more," you told Rhett, secretly enjoying how the tips of his ears were turning pink at your compliment.

"You make that easy," He muttered, slyly grinning at how your nose scrunched up, a tall tale sign that you were flustered.

It was true. Life was a lot easier to swallow when you were around. You were the highlight of his day and he counted down the minutes until he could see you again.

Rhett never thought about married life until you came along. He always assumed that wasn't for him, given his numerous failed attempts at being in a relationship. After Maria, he assumed that it just wasn't in him.

Perhaps there wasn't something wrong with him. Perhaps he had just been with the wrong people.

Because he could envision that life with you so clearly. It was easy to imagine with you. 

It was why Rhett saw red when he walked into the bar one night to see Billy Tillerson talking to you at the bar.

That shithead wasn't paying any attention to what you were saying, he was too busy staring at your chest.

At first, Rhett wanted to go over there and punch him. But then that would put you at risk of getting hurt. As much as Rhett would love to give Billy a broken nose, he didn't want to hurt you.

So he opted for the next best thing.

"Hey Rhe-" your words turned into a shriek upon Rhett picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

"Back off Tillerson," Rhett spat as he carried you out of the bar, ignoring your demands for him to put you down.

"What the hell was that about?!" You asked once your feet were back on the ground. You two were outside the bar now, ignoring the strange looks from the other bar patrons.

"Did you see how he was looking at ya? He didn't want to actually talk to ya," Rhett huffed.

"I figured that out within two minutes. But I was handling him just fine!" You placed your hands on your hips, matching Rhett's stance.

"I don't like him being around ya."

"And who are you to tell me who I can and can't be with?" It wasn't that you wanted to be around that Tillerson. Moreso you wanted Rhett to define what you two were. This dance you two had started had been going on for about a month now. It could end one of two ways: you and Rhett happy or you heartbroken. You'd rather know the ending now.

Rhett knew that too. Which was why he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"I'm your future husband, and probably, father of your future children." His voice was soft. Ironic, considering his words took the air out of your lungs.

"Probably?" Was all you could get out.

"I mean....we haven't talked about kids yet," He said, a sheepish look mixing with his flushed cheeks. His cerulean eyes that you thought about every night before you went to sleep were now looking everywhere except you.

"You haven't even kissed me yet, Rhett."

“I mean….I can fix that right now,” He ran a hand through his dark blonde locks, attempting to display some confidence after his whisky-fueled confession, “If-if you want.”

It was clear as day that he was nervous. Not that you mind. You had heard the stories, had been given all the warnings from your friends about Rhett Abbott. That he was only interested in three things: rodeos, drinking, and fucking. That he only looked for something quick that would satisfy his needs that night, leaving in the morning to never talk to you again. 

But that’s not what happened when you met him. You were careful to keep your guard up, not that it was up for very long. Rhett broke down your walls, washed away all your hesitation with his attentiveness and sweetness he showered you in. When you spoke, he didn’t just listen. He hung onto your every word, like a child desperate to hear the end of their bedtime story before sleep took over. 

For a while, you knew that he actually liked you. Knew that if you did take him into your bedroom, he wouldn’t run away before you woke up. But knowing and seeing it in action were two different things. And in the back of your mind, a seed of doubt still sprouted. 

Until now. 

“I was beginning to think you never would,” You smirked. 

Now it was your turn to knock the air out of Rhett’s lungs just by a few words.

“Minx,” was all he could get out before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. You could taste the remnants of whisky on his lips. The way his large hands were able to cup not just your jaw, but nearly your whole neck made you feel safe and secure. In that moment, nothing else mattered; not the bright neon lights that lit up the bar sign, or the onlookers telling you to get a room. All that mattered was that Rhett’s lips were soft and they were on yours. 

“How many kids ya want?” He asked after you two parted for some much needed oxygen. 

At first his words confused you, then you couldn’t help but chuckle when you made the connection, “At least three. Maybe four. Depends on how I feel when we get to our third one. You’re going to kiss me again, right?”

And Rhett was never one to refuse his lady.

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@rhettabbotts @mothdruid @sebsxphia @theharddeck @sovereign-lights @mxgyver

#my writing #rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #Lewis Pullman #Outer Range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader

[ereardon]

Have Your Space – Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Rhett has been dying to get out of Wabang for as long as you can remember. But when the time actually comes, the money is saved, the bags are packed, you’re crippled with fear. Fear of leaving the only place you’ve ever known. But Rhett can’t stay a minute longer, and you won’t chain him to your door. So it’s time to say goodbye, even if it breaks both of your hearts.  

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, illusion to smut, alcoholism 

A/N: This is based on a fav Kacey Musgraves song of mine, Space Cowboy. All italicized lines are lyrics. 

WC: 2.2K

You look out the window while I look at you. 

“We gotta go,” Rhett says as the mountains slip by, your arm resting on the windowsill, bracelets rattling as the truck bumps down the dirt road. “Baby, we gotta get out of here.” 

“I can’t. Not yet.” Tears squeeze out of your eyes, down your cheeks, dripping onto your threadbare tank top. 

“Why not?” he demands, his voice raspy. You would know Rhett’s voice anywhere. It penetrates your dreams. His voice is your alarm, your goodnight prayer. It’s your salvation. And it’s about to be ripped away. 

“You know why,” you choke out. 

He knows. The whole town knows. It’s your grandfather, ill on his deathbed. It’s your mama, unable to make ends meet with a drunk for a husband. It’s your niece, who needs someone in her life to take care of her where a floozy of a mother and an absent father fail her. 

It’s the fact that you can trace every inch of Wabang with your eyes closed. It’s the fact that a part of you doesn’t know who you would be anywhere else. 

And that terrifies you to your core. 

Rhett is scared, too. He’s terrified. But he’s done. Done letting this town call him names. Done letting Perry and his dad dictate how he should act, what he should say, telling him he’s not good enough when you both know the truth. 

He’s better than both of them combined. He’s better than you, too. 

And that’s why he has to go. 

But roads weren’t made to not go down. And there ain’t room for both of us in this town. 

You were fifteen the first time you laid eyes on Rhett Abbott. You had heard about the local bull rider, of course you had. Even then, his reputation preceded him. You were the mousy girl in class who had never had a boyfriend. What would Rhett Abbott of all people see in you? 

But he saw something. He started to wait for you after class, offering to walk you home. One Friday night, he invited you to the rodeo and behind the bleachers he kissed you for the first time, his soft lips and rough hands smoothing over you and you felt like you might float away.

You were seventeen the first time you realized you loved Rhett Abbott. Sitting in the passenger seat of his beat up truck, listening to songs that you didn’t know the lyrics to. Pulling over and letting Rhett lay out blankets in the bed of the truck, tasting vodka for the first time as the stars glittered above you. 

And before you could even say it, Rhett said it first. “I love you,” he whispered, his blue eyes locked on yours. 

You stroked one hand down his arm, feeling the bumps and bruises from his ride the day before. “I love you, too,” you murmured and he sealed his lips over yours, slotting one thigh between your legs, leaning you back against the blankets, making you his. 

After, as you lay with his shirt wrapped around your body, sticky with sweat, he looked at you. “I want more than this place,” he said. “Come with me.” 

And boots weren’t made for sitting by the door, since you don’t wanna stay anymore. 

The bags are packed. The money is in the safe. Rhett rumbles through the door after a long day, finding you near the stove, stirring a pot of chicken and dumplings. 

“Hi darlin’,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. He smells like dirt and sweat and the sun, all things you have come to associate with Rhett. 

You stir the wooden spoon in the pot, a hand-me-down from your grandmother when you and Rhett moved into your place three years before, the silence overwhelming. 

He leans back and squints. “Baby, what is it?” 

You finally look up. Taking in how tired he looks. He’s caked in dirt, he has scratches all up and down one arm, a tear starting to form in his jeans that you know in a few weeks you’ll have to clumsily patch. 

He wants more than this. This small life. This small town. These small people. He deserves more. 

You smile tiredly. “It’s nothing. Go get cleaned up, dinner is ready.” 

Rhett watches you for a moment, eyes trailing over your face, trying to find the fault lines of the lies. But what he doesn’t know is that there are no cracks, no fissures. Because the lies are no just longer cracks along your surface. It’s the entirety. You’re lying to him. You’re lying to yourself. It’s who you are, it’s what you are. 

You are no longer the girl he fell in love with. 

He just has yet to see it. 

Well, sunsets fade, and love does too. 

“I told you she ain’t a threat!” Rhett’s voice booms. The open air is thick with humidity and you feel your small sundress sticking to your legs, your stomach, your ass, this heat makes everything stick in places you don’t want it to, especially Maria fucking Olivares. 

“Then why is she sidling up to you?” you hiss. Maria has been a thorn in the side of your relationship ever since she set her eyes on Rhett. And no matter how many times he tries to tell you he’s not interested, there’s a voice in the back of your head that tells you otherwise. 

It’s the same voice that told you he was the one. It’s the voice that tells you it’s not time to leave. 

It’s a voice you trust. 

Rhett tosses up his arms in frustration. “Darlin’, you’re going to send me to an early grave. Maria is a friend, that’s all.” He steps closer, one rough hand sliding beneath your chin, tipping your eyes toward his. “Do you trust me?” 

Saying I don’t know would be like saying that the sky ain’t blue. 

“That Abbott boy ain’t gonna take you anywhere except a dirt hole next to your granddad.” 

You turn, eyes wide and burning. “Don’t say that.” 

Your father tips back in his recliner, so many stains mixed in with the brown fabric that it looks like a pattern. He lights a cigarette, fiery ember practically staring you in the face. “You’re gonna end up just like your mama,” he croaks. “Knocked up and stuck.” 

You tighten your fists together at your side. You had just broken your one rule. Never tell your father anything. He was known to kill hope, along with liver cells.

His water eyes search yours. “You ain’t getting out of here, princess. None of us are.” 

Yeah, we had our day in the sun.

The sun is hot on your bare skin. You and Rhett spent the morning swimming in the lake. The warm July sun scorches your exposed skin but you don’t care. 

It’s hard to care for anything more than what’s in front of you, when what’s in front of you is Rhett, a hat tipped over his face, his naked body spread out on a towel, muscular arms crossed over his bare chest. 

You lean down, pressing your lips to his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

He removes his hat, turns to you with a smile. 

“Wish everyday was like this,” you say softly. 

“It could be,” Rhett murmurs, voice deep and gruff, sending shivers down your spine. How could one person be so perfect? 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says and it’s the first time he’s brought it up. But the idea has been bubbling at the surface for him for a while. Perhaps forever. He wants more than this. 

He wants it all with you. 

Rhett props himself up on his side, blue eyes sparkling. “I’m saving up,” he confesses and it feels like chains dropping off of his limbs, confiding in you. “Doing the rodeo circuit until I make enough money for the both of us.” 

“To do what?” 

“Leave,” he says. “Get out of here. Start fresh. Somewhere where they don’t know me or my family. Somewhere where I can do something important.” 

“You can do important things here.” You think of your family, your friends, your burdens. You had never thought about what it would be like to leave Wabang. It had never been an option. 

Rhett shakes his head, grabs your hand, kisses the back of it softly. “Nothing here for me, but you. So let’s go. Let’s get out, while we still can.” 

Shoulda learned from the movies that good guys don’t run away. 

“It ain’t running,” Rhett corrects. “It’s leaving. They’re different.” 

“Feels the same,” you say, folding your clothes, but it feels like your arms are underwater and you’re struggling against the current. 

“It’s not.” 

You look up. Rhett’s bag is packed. On his left hand, the new gold band glints in the afternoon sun that streams through the window. The gold is yet unmarred, no weathered scratches. Your thumb automatically reaches down to trace the edge of your matching ring, the feeling still foreign. 

The finger feels pinched even though the jeweler assured you it was the right size. Maybe it’s not the ring that feels cloying. 

“What about Amy?” you ask. He looks up, stunned. She’s his Achilles heel and you know it. 

His face contorts in pain. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

“That’s inevitable, Rhett,” you cry. “Can’t you see? We’re leaving a hole and everyone in our lives is going to fall into it.” 

“They’ll be fine,” he assures you. 

“What if we stay?” you ask softly. 

Rhett’s face goes stone cold. “Then I’ll be the one falling into the hole,” he says. 

I know my place and it ain’t with you. 

Rhett thinks you’re asleep but how could you be? You’re lying on your side, eyes closed, as his side of the bed jiggles, the familiar wobble of the crappy mattress as he rolls out of bed, feet stamping onto the hardwood floor. A sliver of light illuminates the room and then it’s gone the moment he closes the door behind him. 

You wait a few minutes before sitting up, trailing after him. 

You know, before you even make your way through the house, that he’s outside sitting on his rocking chair, looking out over the green lawn. As you stand at the door, watching him, tears fill your eyes. 

His left arm is in a cast, only fingers visible beneath the white netting. It was a hard ride. A bad one. 

Usually on bad nights like tonight, you would take care of him. Help him shower, rinse off the dirt, sit down as he eats whatever warm meal you left for him in the oven. Take him to bed, press your lips to every bump and bruise on his skin, real or imagined, kiss away the pain, hold him as he falls asleep. 

Tonight, he came home to find you already in bed, room shrouded in darkness. No food waiting on the warmer. 

You both knew. Tonight was his last ride. Tomorrow was meant to be the start of it all. 

It would be the start of something. Just not what Rhett wanted. 

Rhett turns, just as you’re about to retreat from the window. He catches your eyes and suddenly you’re frozen, rooted in place. He knows. You both know. 

I’ll see you around again. 

Morning sun streams through the curtains but you’re already awake. 

The bags are packed, the bathroom cabinets are half cleared. The mudroom is suspiciously empty of coveralls and dirty boots and ripped shirts. 

You sit up, drag yourself out of bed, look at the reflection in the mirror. Who is she? 

Outside, Rhett sits on the edge of his truck bumper, head hung low. The familiar squeak of the screen door – he promised to fix it and never did – forces Rhett to look up. 

“Sugar?” he says softly. 

You step closer until you’re pulled into his orbit. His hands on your waist, pressing firmly against your shirt, his t-shirt, that hangs on your frame, legs bare. You raise your eyes to him. “Rhett.” 

“I love you, darlin’.” 

“I know.” 

Neither of you says anything as he presses his lips to your forehead and you back away, Rhett stepping forward, pulling open the driver’s door, sliding inside, rough hands gripping the wheel.  

Go on ride away, in your Silverado. 

He looks in the rearview mirror. You stand with your hand covering your mouth, unable to say goodbye. Rhett notices that your finger is bare, the gold band that once constricted your finger lying at the bottom of his now empty sock drawer. 

He tugs the truck into drive. He holds his breath, thinking the taillights might wake you up. He waits and hopes that you’ll change your mind, shake your head, jog forward, say you made a mistake, say you want to go, say you don’t need space, say all you need is him. 

But you don’t. 

He lets out his breath and drives toward the sun. 

You can have your space, Cowboy.

Tag list/people I think might enjoy this:

@bobfloydsbabe @wkndwlff @double-j @momc95 @sadpetalsstuff @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @writercole @coffeeandcuriosities @xoxabs88xox @xomrsalliej4787xo @iangiemae @djs8891 @rosiahills22

@a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @blue-aconite @fudge13 @avengers-fixation @valkyrja-siren-blog @callsign-joyride @beyondthesefourwalls @mandylove1000 @callsign-magnolia @yanna-banana

#rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman #outer range fic #outer range rhett abbott #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader

[roosterbruiser]

Millie, would love Rhett and a nerdy!reader kissing for the first time after Rhett realizes she had a huge crush on him in high school

Thanks for the slumber party!

when you saw Rhett at the bar on your third night back in Wabang, you were surprised. not surprised that he was there, at the bar, but surprised that he had aged like a fine wine. cowboy hat intact, body sinewy and tanned from ranch work, scruff across his cheeks.

keen to just smile at him and wave across the room at your longest crush, you were surprised when he suddenly caught your gaze and did a double-take.

abandoning Perry altogether, Rhett monied across the room, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a lazy smile.

"hey, you!" he said, chipper as ever. "god, I ain't seen you in years! how you been, honey?"

and then he was pulling you into a flannel-scented hug, overwhelming you entirely.

it wasn't even that he was mean to you in high school. but you were the kind of girl who studied in the library, sat at the front of the class, and got early acceptance letters from a handful of colleges. Rhett, on the other hand, was less studious than you were. the kinda boy that smoked in the courtyard and lounged in the back of class, only engaging when it was forced out of him.

"I'm-i'm good! you?" you asked, grinning, trying to control your rapid heartbeat.

Rhett pulled back and drank you in, your glittering eyes and your manicured nails and those glasses that he's always liked perched on your nose.

"better now," he told you. "god, what's it been? like, five-six years?"

still awestruck, you nod.

"somethin' like that."

Rhett chewed his lip for a moment, glancing back over at where he left Perry standing.

"you wanna drink with me?" he asks. "c'mon. my treat?"

the two of you have been dancing around it all night long.

sitting across from each other in this smoky bar, more than a few beers shared between the two of you, leaning in close to each other because the crowd's getting rowdier (but really because you can't get enough of that deeply masculine scent that is thick on his pulse points and he keeps getting butterflies when he gets a waft of your shampoo).

as the night has dragged on, Rhett's cheeks rosier than ever and your laugh growing louder, Rhett finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from your lips. they're so beautiful--wet and painted with a lipstick that's steadily been wearing off all night, molding around your teeth as you beam at him.

"how'd I miss you in high school?" he asks, brows furrowed.

you nearly choke on your beer, brows furrowing. resting the glass on the table, you tilt your head at him.

"what d'you mean?" you ask, voice soft. "you didn't miss me in high school. we had algebra together!"

Rhett nods, leaning back against the booth and crossing his arms.

"I's too busy passin' notes in algebra," Rhett admits somewhat coyly, scratching the back of his neck. "didn't learn anythin'."

"on the contrary, I never passed notes in algebra," you smile softly. "and I sure didn't miss you, Rhett."

Rhett's brows flick upwards in surprise. you're a bit embarrassed at this fact--but only for a moment. suddenly, Rhett is gathering one of the white napkins on the table and plucking one of the little pencils that's been forgotten there after trivia night.

"what're you doin'?" you ask, nose wrinkled in amusement.

"writin' you a note," he says. he glances up at you, catches your gaze on the napkin. protectively, he wraps an arm around it and raises his brows at you. "no peekin'."

"sorry," you laugh, flushing.

he writes for only a few moments, gazing down at his scrawl before he slides the napkin face-down across the table. then he leans back, swallows hard, and watches you carefully.

you're not sure what to expect, really. maybe his number. maybe just a simple hi. but when you turn the napkin over, it nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs.

can I kiss you?

-Rhett

he watches you read it with his lip tucked between his teeth. he's a little fuzzy around the edges, a little drunk on beer and a lot drunk on you. but then you're looking back up at him, pupils blown, smile dying.

"yeah," you say, voice thin.

he moves first, leaning forward across the table, cupping your cheek with a rough hand. every breath you breathe fans out across his bottom lip and he shivers, nuzzling his nose against yours.

and honestly, you've dreamed of this before. locking lips with Rhett Abbott in his shitty pickup truck or under the bleachers after a football game, tasting all that tobacco and oak on his lips. digging your fingers into the skin of his shoulders, hearing your name tumble off his lips in a moment of utter rapture.

he grazes your bottom lip with his thumb, then very gingerly pinches your chin and closes the distance between your mouths. he tastes like beer and so do you, but there is something distinctly sweet there, too. something that is not a flavor so much as a feeling, a promise.

and when you pull back finally, face hot, he peppers a couple more kisses around your pretty mouth.

"wanna know somethin'?" you ask, eyes slipped shut.

"I do," he whispers.

"I've been waitin' on you to kiss me since high school."

he chuckles, kisses you again.

"should've done it sooner," he tells you. "my apologies."

when you walk out of the bar later that night, arms hooked together, you're wearing his hat and he's donning your glasses.

#m answers #:) #rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x oc #outer range #cowboy #cowboy Rhett #lewis pullman #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott series #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbot smut #rhett abbott headcanons #rhett abbott x female reader #Rhett abbott x single mother!reader #outer range fanfic #outer range smut #outer range x reader #outer range imagine

[filmtv2022]

One More Ride (18+ MDNI)

All Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader 

Summary: Rhett & Y/N spend their last night in Wabang together. Pushing away the weight of the world by falling into one another's arms. 

Warnings: SMUT (this is probably the filthiest thing I've written so far) + language 

A/N: I've had the general idea for this story brewing for a while. This story is a one-shot standalone that isn't connected to my series "By Your Side", but if you want more Rhett content... might I suggest that you go read that too! Enjoy & I apologize for any mistakes! 

Bright hues of orange and pink washed over the wispy clouds high in the sky above the pasture. The mountains and far-off forest sat dark on the horizon. An evening breeze picked up as the sun continued to sink, throwing goosebumps over your socked feet and bare arms. It would have been easy to go and grab a hoodie from the cab of the old pickup, but you didn’t want to miss any of the sunset. Digging your toes underneath the pile of blankets that covered the bed of the truck, you leaned back, letting the warmth of Rhett’s solid frame behind you soak in your skin. 

Night was quickly settling over the wild landscape, the Abbott house was barely more than a black spot in the distance. The quiet moment stretched on as you memorized the way the light painted the sky, creating a glittering mosaic of colors. The saturation changed the longer you watched. The bright oranges and pinks faded into dusky blues and purples, which you knew would eventually morph into inky blackness. Sitting here, the reality of what was coming felt heavy in the air. Change was coming, and if tradition held, the Abbott family did poorly with accepting that the world continued to turn, paving the way for the future. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, reveling in the woodsy musk of Rhett’s cologne. His lips pressed a constant kiss to your hair as his hands held firmly to him. An edge of anxiety was obvious in the way he kept you close. One hand gripped tightly onto your waist, while the other drew absent-minded patterns over your thigh. Tracing over the bumps and frays of your jeans before following the line of the seams, picking at the loose threads. 

“You don’t have to do this you know? You don’t have to ride tomorrow. We can leave tonight,” Turning your head to look up at him, you watched his jaw clench, “You just say the word, Rhett, and we’re gone.” 

Looking down at you, his blue eyes ran dark in the dusty light, “You know it’s not that simple.” 

“I know,” reaching up to hold his cheek, you pleaded with him to stay with you, to not look away, “but I also know that the only person in that house right now that gives a shit about you is Amy. And she already knows what's going to happen or has guessed as much anyway. You don’t owe them shit, Rhett.” 

“They’re family.” A pained look furrowed his brow. 

Shifting further, you settled yourself in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Your face now sat even with Rhett’s, as your hands came up to hold his face, his stubble scrapped lightly at your palms. Scanning over his features, you caught the way his anxiety had settled between his brows, the lines growing deeper the longer he sat with the knowledge of what was to come & the guilt of knowing he was finally going to escape. 

“Yeah, they’re family, and that doesn’t change when you drive away from this town. They will always be here, waiting for you, Rhett. But that’s the thing, they’ll always be here. Do you remember what you said? What you've promised me every year since we were eleven?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Bullshit, you remember. Tell me what you said.” 

Locking eyes with you, he spoke the words in a whisper, “I said that I'd get out, that I’d get both of us out.” 

“That’s right, and you know what, it’s been long enough. It’s time. Nothing is holding us here, and If we don’t leave now… I don’t know if we ever will. This place is killing you, Rhett, and I’ll be damned if I let you stay here to die.” pressing your forehead into his, your soft breath fell over his face, “Be selfish for once in your fuckin’g life… ‘cause I can’t do this without you.” 

“One more ride, that’s all that I’m askin’ for. Then we’re out.” 

“For you this time, one more for you. Promise me that.”

“Promise.” Holding you close by the hips, his hand slid up the length of your back, burying itself in your hair so that he could press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The glow of the sunset cast his face in shadows as the gusts of air fluttered the loose pieces of hair around his ears. The errant strands, tickled the delicate skin along your temple, making you smile. Gingerly, you reached out and tucked them back into place. You weren’t ready to relinquish the feeling of him. Trailing your fingertips down the side of his neck, you rested your palms on his chest. Rhett used his strength to haul you even closer, as if he needed to pull you inside of himself, your chest flush with his as he slid a hand down your spine. His wide hands came to rest on your ass. Raking your hands over his sides, a shiver ran over his body at the feeling of your touch. The beer he’d been drinking sat sweetly on his breath as your lips brushed together. 

Desperation for you filled his every move, you were the answer to every question that ran unchecked through his mind. His mouth found your neck, nipping at the tender flesh and leaving marks in the wake. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, he shifted beneath you, slotting a thigh between your own. Using his strength, he forced your weight down. Your thoughts swam at the pressure of him holding you in place on top of him, your hips moving of their own accord. A groan fell from his lips as your head fell back in pleasure. 

Sinking his fingers into the sliver of skin that sat exposed between the hem of your shirt and your jeans, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs, “Fuck.”

“Rhett.” His name was nearly a whine as you called for him.

“I know, baby.” 

Helping you move, a low groan rumbled from his chest as you continued to brush up against him. Each movement sent shock waves through his body. Rhett’s hands wandered, skimming over your chest before sinking back down. Toying with the button on your jeans, but leaving it closed, he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband. His callouses were rough against, you as he continued to move. Your lips found his neck as he ghosted over your core, the pressure just enough to leave you wanting more. Taking him by the wrist, you held him in place, encouraging him to continue and silently begging for more. The rapid rise and fall of your chest spurred him on, his nerves alight with anticipation. 

A whimper tumbled from you as Rhett removed his hand from your hold, but the disappointment was short-lived. With his eyes locked onto you, Rhett's fingers fumbled with the button on your waistband. Popping it open, he wasted no time dipping his fingers below the fabric. 

Your slick coated his fingers, “So fuckin’ wet. This all for me, Darlin’?”

“Yes, Rhett, all for you.” The touch was nearly too much and yet not enough. 

A wanton moan ripped from you as he continued to bring you closer to the edge. Losing his self-control, Rhett rather hastily turned you over. Settling his weight between your legs, and rolling his hips into yours, earning a heady groan from you. The ridges of the truck bed pressed sharply into your back even through the layers of blankets, but that was so far from your mind. The only thing that mattered was him.

Rhett’s hands once again slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your bra. Mouthing at the top of your breasts, his patience for the garment in his way lasted only so long. His hand slipped behind your back, grasping for the clasp, and finding it. Moving just enough to free it from your body, he tossed it to the side before tugging your shirt the rest of the way off. You reached for the hem of his t-shirt, and he realized what you wanted, and quickly got rid of it 

With both your tops dropped somewhere nearby, he dipped back down to capture your mouth, the kiss hungry and wild. Accepting everything that he gave, your back arched as he worshipped every inch of your body, his lips, and fingers tracing over the contours of your curves. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he whispered as he trailed down the expanse of your stomach with featherlight kisses. 

Moving lower, he gripped at your still-covered thighs, pressing kisses over your hips before turning his attention to your core. Carefully, he pushed your legs further apart, his thumb running lightly over where you needed him most, his lips following close behind, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. 

“Don’t be a goddamn tease, Rhett Abbott” Twining your fingers through his hair, you tugged at the strands trying to guide him in the right direction. 

A low huff of laughter rumbled through his chest, “Getting impatient aren’t ya?.” 

Sitting up, he peeled your jeans from your body, his hands raking over the newly exposed skin. The heat flowing through your veins left you reeling. Adjusting your position so that you were able to look into his eyes, you brushed your lips over his as you spoke, “Yeah, I am. Are you gonna do something about it… or should I take care of myself?” 

Your hand smoothed over your underwear, pushing it aside, and you dipped your fingers beneath drawing a gasp from yourself. You stayed focused on him, daring him to make the next move. A challenge he happily accepted. 

“Callin’ me a tease… jesus christ woman" Stripping off his own jeans and underwear, as quickly as he could, his boots also discarded, he wasted no time returning to you.

Crashing against, you, his sure touch replaced your own. Panting into his mouth, you gave yourself over completely to him. Moving in gentle strokes and circles with his fingers, he worked you closer and closer to the edge. Feeling your body stiffen, and your breaths turn into erratic heaves, he continued to rile you up. 

“Fuck, Rhett!”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 

“I want- I need to-” You couldn't finish your thought, but he knew very well what you were asking for, he could feel how close you were. 

“After what you said earlier… you sure you deserve it?” he relished the scent of the whiskey on your breath from earlier as he swiped over your bottom lip, nipping lightly, before tasting you. 

Ghosting over your entrance, he moved at a languid pace, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to tip you over. 

“Don’t make me beg, Rhett.” Your hand that had been grasping at his ass, slipped between you two, finding him aching and waiting for your touch. Wrapping your fingers around him, you stroked him roughly, earning a deep groan.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you beg. Just let me enjoy this for a minute, darlin’” Smirking, he pushed your hips down into the blankets as he kissed down the column of your neck. 

He paid close attention to the way your breath hitched as he expertly found your most sensitive areas. Working his way down your frame, he held you in place as you writhed under his touch. Rhett’s warm breath, breezed over your core, causing you to clench in anticipation. His lips found your clit as his fingers curled inside, ripping a needy moan from you as he hummed against your body. Unable to stay still, you rolled your hips up to meet him, begging him for more. Listening to your silent pleas, his tongue worked in steady strokes, pulling you further from reality. Hanging on by a thread, you gasped in shock at the sudden loss of his touch. 

“What the fuck-” 

“I want to feel you around me when you come.” 

Kissing you deeply, he pressed into you in one fluid motion. Both of you let go of desperate moans at the feeling of having one another so close. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he waited for you to give him permission to continue. 

“You all right?”

“I need you to move, Rhett.” 

“Good girl. You feel so fuckin’ perfect... like you were made for me.” 

“Holy shit” Digging your fingers into this hair and back, you trembled at the feeling of him, your nails sinking into his skin. 

The pair of you were insatiable. You rolled your hips in time with him, pulling delicious moans from each other with every thrust. Reaching up, Rhett laced his finger with yours, holding your hand up by your head as he continued to move. His pace faltered as he felt himself drawing closer to his own release. Pleasure consumed the pair of you heart and soul. 

“I’m close.” his voice was airy and light as he whispered his confession.

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him closer, “Let go, Rhett. I’ve got you.”

Weak moans left your lips as he quickened his pace, chasing his climax. Reaching between you, his fingers once again found your clit, “Come with me, Y/N.” 

Snapping his hips in time with his touches, he felt you clench around him as you cried out. You climax washing over you in waves of lightning, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Feeling you go, Rhett was right behind. With one final thrust, you felt him fall over the edge, joining you with his release. Swallowing his sharp exhales and groans, you kissed him deeply as he came. 

Slowing down, Rhett stayed buried inside of you as he shifted so that you were lying on top of him. His body was so spent that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to keep from collapsing on top of you if he’d stayed how you were before. Silence fell over the two of you as your lungs returned to normal, your muscles warm and pliable as you soaked in the feeling of each other. Tugging the edge of a blanket over the top of you both, Rhett ran his finger down the length of your back. The feeling of your skin soothing away the last remnants of worry. Lost in each other’s arms, it was easy to forget every fear that threatened to tear the two of you apart. Here, like this, the future seemed limitless.

“I love you, Y/N. And we’re getting out of here, just like I promised.” 

“I love you too, Rhett.” 

#rhett abbott x reader #lewis pullman #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader

[sweetlittlegingy]

Burning House

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♤ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Y/n "Tilly" Tillerson

♤ Word Count: 6.3K

♤ Warnings: Smut 18+, family fighting, reader gets hit (not by Rhett), angst, fluff

♤ A/n: I haven't written smut in years, so let me know. Also, I'm 30 minutes late, but this week has been a lot. Also, you are responsible for your own content consumption. This is an 18+ fic, please respect that.

♤ Library | Main Masterlist

The shatter of glass pulls you from your thoughts, a reminder of where you were. Thrown once again into the fire. Tugging your jeans the rest of the way up, you button the brass button. The tank top you’re wearing sticks to you like a second skin, in the hot Wyoming weather.

Yanking it off you grab an old Coors shirt, slipping it over you frame, before reaching down to tug on your boots. Mud flicks off on to the carpet, making you roll your eyes, you’d have to clean it before your mother saw.

You hadn’t been home in almost four years, leaving Wabang in the dust when you got accepted to Montana State to pursue a degree in business.

Montana had been your number one choice in schools for two reasons; it was out of state away from family, and it was still close enough that Rhett could drive down. It’d been at least 8 months since you’d last seen him, to say you were wound tight was an understatement.

The harsh reality of your father getting sick and you having to come home was thrown into your face, not even a week ago. Your mother made it quite clear, that whether you wanted to or not, you would be coming home with her.

Growing up as the youngest Tillerson, and a girl at that, hadn’t been an easy feat. The constant reminder that you would never fully be in control of your life, not while being a part of this family at least.

Luke and Billy were fine, as fine as they could be. Luke was so far up your mother’s ass, that you were surprised he could even function when she wasn’t around. While Billy was completely brainwashed by your father.

Though you would have happily dealt with them over your father and Trevor. Those two had tempers and matched against your own; the state of your life had been on fire for as long as you could remember.

The three of your tempers flaring at every incident, ended in more fist fights than you could remember, and the list of broken items was never ending. Fuel was just added to the fire when your mom was home, having all four of you in the same room always ended with Sheriff Joy, coming out on calls of domestic disturbances.

A quick look in the mirror, you double-check your makeup and hair and decide that you're more than hot enough to make a surprise appearance at the Handsome Gambler. Another crash has you looking back at your door, silently wondering what the hell was wrong now. Pulling open your bedroom door, you can hear the yelling voices of Luke and Trevor. Forgoing your hat for the night, you make your way to the den.

There was only one hat that you be wearing tonight, come hell or high water it would be yours.

Both voices raise, nearly scream, when suddenly a third voice cuts through causing you to pause your descent down the stairs.

“What she wants doesn’t matter, damn it.” A rough cough rises from your father’s chest, “She doesn’t even know what the hell’s going on, if you two idiots could keep your voice down.”

You mind races, trying to think of anything they could be talking about. Though you come up blank, having been gone you hadn’t worried about your father and brothers.

What in the hell could be so important that they needed to keep it from you? Staying on the stairs, out of sight you wait for them to go on.

“She’s gonna find out, I’m surprised Rhett hasn’t already told her. Abbott doesn’t know how to keep his fucking mouth shut.” You’d known that was Luke, his voice not rough like your fathers and Trevor’s. 

Though you couldn’t figure out why in the world they were talking about you and Rhett. It had been years since they’d seen the two of you together and there was no way they knew the two of you were still a thing.

The two of you grew up together, best friends since you were children. You knew every part of each other, sharing your deepest secrets, and eventually an unbreakable love. Puberty had hit the both of you like a fright train, leading to you two fucking in every pasture between his and your house. Fucking; eventually turned into more, friends falling in love hard and fast.

You’d officially been together three years when you graduated, though your story tale came to a sudden halt when you received your acceptance letter. With you moving and Rhett actively pursuing bull riding, the both of you had decided to end your relationship.

The both of you left it on good terms, and Rhett still came up to Bozeman, the six-hour drive nothing compared to trips he made on the circuit. You hadn’t told Rhett that you were coming home, the spur of the moment decision made by your mother prevented it, but you knew he’d be out tonight.

No longer giving a shit if they saw you, you make your way down the stairs. Their talking cutting off completely when you came into view, your brothers and father staring holes into your head as you push through the den into the kitchen.

“Don’t stop talking on my account.” The snap in your voice is evident.

The four sets of eyes following your every move, still not talking, as you dig around in the key jar.

“What are you doing?” It’s Trevor that speaks up first, his tone already pissy.

“What’s it look like?” You throw him a look over your shoulder, your gaze condensing in every way. His gaze back is still questioning, and you wonder if he truly is an idiot.

“I’m getting the fucking keys Trevor.”

A smile graces your face as you find the set to your father’s new pickup, the one he hadn’t been able to drive since he’d gotten sick. You raise your hand in triumph showing them, and silently waiting for the pushback.

“Where do you think that you're going?” This time it’s Luke that questions you, his tone less sharp not wanting to set off your temper.

Luke had learned over the years what buttons not to push, while Trevor knew exactly which one to push. It was like he thrived off the idea of making you mad, to see just how much you’d blow up.

“I’m not going to just sit around; I don’t really feel like listening to ya’ll fight. Mom might have forced me back, but she didn’t say I had to stay on the ranch.” Your eyebrow slightly raises “I’m going for a drink.”

Before you can turn to leave, a harsh, forced laugh falls from Trevor’s lips.

“When did you turn into such a fucking bitch? Saying that mom forced you here, like this ranch isn’t the thing that’s given you everything.”

Your jaw ached from how tightly you’d clenched it, all of them just staring at you. No words to defend you, you hadn’t expected it, but it would have been a nice surprise.

Trevor might have been right about your childhood. Getting everything you wanted, it wasn’t like you asked for it, it was just there. The exact way it was for each of your brothers, the only difference is that you left, and when you left so did daddy’s money.

Sure, you could have asked, begged, but you didn’t need it. You maintained a job with a company up in Bozeman, that paid you more than enough to live and the thought to being debited to this place, was enough for you to live on a smaller means.

“Unlike you Trevor, I no longer live off Daddy’s money. Though since I’m being forced to stay here, I will be taking liberties. The first on being, using the damn pickup.” The rattle you made with the keys, finally setting him off.

You’d said the wrong thing before, but the fire in Trevor’s eyes hadn’t been one you’d personally seen. Before you can make a move for the door, he was on you, the whip of your head and crack of the back of his hand on your face echoing through the kitchen.

Silent rage, you couldn’t feel the pain. The heaving of your chest should have been notion enough that you were pissed. It’s not till you feel the blood running down your lip, that you realize he’d done damage.

Sure, Trevor and your father had hurt you before, but it had been a long time since they had struck you on the face. You raise your hand up, still clutching the keys and brush your fingers over you lip. The blood smears as you do, feeling an evident spilt and swelling.

No one moves, Trevor stands just in front of you, while the other three don’t do so much as comment.

The harsh laugh that falls from your lips, should scare them. You never wanted to see a pissed off woman laugh, that was common sense, but to see a pissed off Tillerson woman laughing.

They should have been running.

Acting on pure instinct your fist reals back, flying at Trevor before anyone can react. The resounding crack of his nose brings you joy, his figure doubling over sightly. Your fist already rising back, ready to maim him. You’d seen bright red and you didn’t want to stop, not when he was the one doubled over in pain.

It’s only the feeling of Luke wrapping his arms around your waist, and dragging you back from Trevor that makes you stop.

“Calm down, damn it.” It’s your father that yells, the four of your gazes snapping directly to him.

Your lips curl back in disgust, of course it wasn’t an issue if you were the one bleeding. Oh, but if anyone touches poor Trevor, the fucking world was ending.

You scoff, shaking Luke off and double check that you still have your keys. Grabbing your purse, that had fallen, you move to leave, leaning into Trevor as he tries to stop the bleeding.

Your voice as sharp as a knife, “I’m not little anymore Trev. You touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”

Pushing past him ,you brush off your shirt noticing that drops of blood had collected on it. Cursing you brother once again, you head out the door, only offering Billy a goodbye.

Walking to the truck, you can’t stop the smirk that rises on your lips. You were ready to get absolutely hammered and fall into Rhett’s bed in a tangle of limbs.

Not caring that it’s your father’s truck, or that it was in fact brand new, you peel out the drive gravel flying. Your fingers beat along the steering wheel, music blasting and windows down.

Flicking down the visor you silently thank your father, you didn’t smoke normally, but occasionally you’d light one up. Flipping open the box of Marlboro’s, you slip one between your lips. Grabbing the lighter in the cup holder, the sweet relief the nicotine gives you instantly calms your jittery limbs.

The cigarette only just brushes against the left side of your bottom lip and has you wincing, the pain finally setting in. You’d need a stiff drink to take that edge off, the glowing neon sign of the Handsome Gambler a welcomed sight.

You’d checked your lip in the mirror, grimacing slightly at the swelling and taking a wet napkin to your chin, removing the dried blood. The music can be heard before you even make it to the door, upon opening it, it increases ten-folds. Rumbling through your body and instantly soothing you. The red glowing neon of the bar was a tad obnoxious but wasn’t unbearable.

The click of your boots draw eyes to you instantly, though the only set you're looking for sits at the end of the bar. Leaning over a glass of whiskey, unfazed by his surroundings.

You don’t take time to acknowledged anyone else, your sights set and your feet carrying you without another thought in the world.

He doesn’t notice you leaning on the bar next to him, surely overthinking his last ride, and it isn’t until you grab the hat off his head that you get his attention. You’re sure that bar goes silent as the hat settles on your head, a familiar piece; one you’ve worn on many occasions.

Your hand is reaching for his whiskey before he can even comprehend that it’s you. Shooting the drink back, you rest the glass once again between his fingers and let your eyes finally meet his.

Wonder and questioning cross his face. His eyes going to your lip and your positive you see a flash of rage, before his eyes move to the hat on your head and a smug smirk settles on his lips.

“You know there’s a certain rule about stealing a cowboys hat Tilly?”

His nickname for you falling from his lip, nearly has you melting into a puddle on the ground, but you hold strong.

A hum and a nod of your head is the only recognition you given him, before moving to him. His legs opening for you like muscle memory, and your arms lacing around his neck. Your mouth resting just inches from his ear, your breath hot against him.

“And I fully intend on cashing in on those rules tonight, Abbott.”

The way his grip tightens on your waist has your toes curling in anticipation, the burning in your core igniting now that Rhett’s within your hold. Your eyes meet his and your breath catches, the blue of his eyes no longer visible. His pupils blown, watching your every move, and full of want.

It’s his hand that comes up and knocks the brim of his hat up, his eyes taking in the way your lips part as tiny soft pants fall from them.

Every time, it was like this. Like no time had passed since the last time your trembling form was under him. The way that your body became putty in his hands would have been annoying, if you didn’t like it so damn much.

No, those hands and his mouth were a God sent you were sure, or maybe hell sent. Given the way they could have you trembling like a leaf and Rhett’s name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your lip slips between your teeth, gently biting it, not caring any longer about the cut. Your stare is unwavering, neither of you paying mind to the bar surrounding you and you can’t deny the way your body craves him.

The whiskey you shot earlier didn’t come close to warming you up like he did, as his hands leave a trail of flames in their wake gently rub up your sides.

“You that needy, you have to come down here to me? Nobody work you over like me, hmm Tilly.”

You know he’ll question you later, want to know the full story. But it’s the fact that he knows just what you need to hear, the need to forget all the shit, that has you wanting to crawl up into his lap.

“No baby, I came cause I heard you needed me.”

Your hands slip into the hair at the base of his neck, lightly scratching and he can’t hide the shiver that slips up the base of his spine.

“Heard none of the bunnies could take you like I can. They're just too breakable for you.”

The tension has the both of you leaning in closer to each other, waiting for the other one to beg. You can feel Rhett’s breath hot against your lips, just barley touching, though not nearly like how you’re craving him. The need to have him flush against you, making your legs shake as tears run down your face.

Rhett caves just barely, his tongue slipping out and licking at your bottom lip. Swiping over the cut, a stinging jolt of pain and need courses through your veins. The moan that erupts from your chest, makes him smirk and pull you closer to him.  Your thigh barley nudging the front of his pants, his cock hard and pulsing against the thick denim.

Glancing down, the imprint against his jeans has your core clenching and a tiny whine coming from your throat. A chuckle falls his lips, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You that needy, girl?”

Your head is nodding before you can even think to stop it. The need to be owned by Rhett, out-weighting your usually independent nature. He knew it, he always did. It was one of his favorite things about you; how you were a spitfire to anyone else, but when he pushed just right, you’d be on your knees.

The closeness in proximity to each other, leaves no room for outside interference.

You hadn’t seen her coming back from the bathroom, in her barley there shorts, and trashy boots. Though the whiny voice stating Rhett’s name pulls your gaze to the girl standing next to you.

Rhett’s vision never leaves your face, waiting to see how you’d react. He always loved to see you get territorial, and had a habit of forgetting to tell you about other girls hitting on him at the bar.

Your eyes rack up her form, your head tilling to the side as you take in her appearance. Looking back the Rhett, you see him shrug his shoulders, silently telling you to handle it.

Turning to her, the smile dropping from your face, “He’s got his hands full bunny.”

The hands once on your waist, slip down to grab your ass. Giving it a harsh squeeze, that has your legs clenching.

“I already claimed him for the night.” Her tone bitter, acting like she has made some miraculous point.

Your jaw ticks at her stupidity and the fact that she thinks that she has some claim over him.

The only person that had a claim over Rhett Abbott was you, and it always would be you.

Turning to full face her, Rhett’s hands settling on your hips, hands sneaking under your shirt.

“No bunny, you didn’t.” The tone of your voice is sharp and you’re sure the once loud bar has gone silent.

“For one, he’s a person, not an object, and “claims” can’t be made over him.” You take a step closer to her, your gaze unwavering. “Though if anyone has a claim over him, it’s me and this damn hat proves it.”

The flick of your finger against the hat, has her eyes rising to the hat resting on your head. Her eyes find yours again, and you can see the gears trying to turn in her head. Just as her mouth opens to say something; you’re quick to shut her up.

“I think you’d better leave bunny, unless you wanna find out just how I got the split lip.”

Her eyes flicker to your lip then back to your eyes, fire burning behind your gaze, and you watch as she realizes how serious you are. Her face falling and a slight fear crosses her eyes before she’s turning and walking away.

You turn back around to Rhett, a smug smirk resting on his lip. A new hunger burns in his eyes as he watches you and his hands slide back down to grab your ass.

“You put a claim on me girl?”

“I’ve had a claim on you, since that first time you fucked me behind the church.”

You can see the memory flashing through his mind, and before you realize it, he’s up and pulling you out of the bar to his pickup.

Your back hits the passenger door of his pick, your gazes watching one another. It’s you that sneaks up a hand around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Not caring that you were the one to break this time, all you knew was that you needed Rhett like you needed air to breathe.

The clash of your lips against one another, stings slightly against your split lip, but the way Rhett’s leg slots between your knees has you forgetting.

It’s when Rhett nips at your bottom lip that has you cursing. Rhett’s fast to pull back, his eyes dropping to your lip and that anger from earlier reappears.

“Who the fuck did it?” the question leaves no room for you to evade it. Trapped within his arms and his hard gaze.

“Trevor.” His name taste like acid on your tongue and your sure Rhett doesn’t miss the way your grimace.

The hands at your hip tighten, surely causing bruises, and your hands drop to rub Rhett’s shoulders. A silent gesture from you, telling him that you’re okay.  

“I’ll fucking kill him.” And the heat between you is forgotten by him. The only thing incasing him now, was his anger aimed directly at your brother.

Rhett feels the way his breath picks up, he knew that your family was a bunch of assholes and that you all fought religiously. Hell, he’d been there for a few of them when you were both still in high school.

But to hear that Trevor had physically put his hands on you, set off something entirely new within him.

He doesn’t hear you; a ringing has started in his ears, and he can’t stop the replaying imagery in his mind of Trevor hitting you. He’s making his way around the pick-up and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Tilly get in.” His voice is harsh and has you climbing in quickly.

Before you know it, he’s pulling from the parking spot and heading back towards both of your homes.

“Rhett what are you thinking?” though you don’t receive an answer, the sound of gravel underneath the tire’s echoes through the cab.

You can see the steam rolling off him and though you should be scared, you know that Rhett would never hurt you. The split in the road ahead is looming, one to the Abbott Ranch and the other to your families.

Looking over to Rhett you can see his hands shaking in rage. Reaching over you take one of his hands from the steering wheel and hold it against your lips. Giving his knuckles repeated kisses, as his gaze settles on your face.

“Pull over baby.” Your voice is soft and not demanding, though you know that Rhett will listen to your gentle request.

The truck stops in the middle of the road, and you can see a storm rising up against the mountains. Much like the one that is clearly racking through Rhett’s mind, he’s eyes look back to your eyes, watching the way you continually kiss his knuckles.

A shuttered breath leaves his lips, and his head is bowing down into his chest. His voice quiet, but you still hear him.

“He hit you.” The shake and pain in his voice is clear as day. “He put his fucking hands on you, and they did nothing.”

His face snaps to you, as you go to correct him, words failing you. His gaze proves that he already knows the truth.

“Okay, so they did nothing. What’s new?” The laugh that leaves you is more strained than you planned, “I got a good hit in though, think I broke his nose.”

Rhett watches you as you tell him, a chuckle leaves his lips at your comment. The hand you’d been kissing, raising to brush against your cheek.

“My Girl.”

Such wonder and love in his tone, his eyes showing nothing but pride in you. The feeling rattles you to your core. You and Rhett had broken things off, but that didn’t mean you stopped loving him.

The look he’s giving you, makes it seem like he still loved you too. You’re up and climbing across the truck before you can seconded guess the decision.  

Climbing over into his lap, needing to be next to him, to feel him and know that he was with you.

He welcomes you, grabbing your hips to settle your thighs on either side of his lap. One hand coming to rest on your cheek, grazing the split in your lip once again.

“He deserves so much more than just a fucking broken nose.” You nuzzle into his palm, placing kisses into it.

“And you would have killed him without a seconded thought?” Your laugh is silenced, as Rhett straightens your face to look at him.

“I’d burn the fucking world to the ground for you Tilly.” The way he says it, causes your core to clench.

A commandment of love, without actually saying the words.

You know that he would, but hearing the rasp and seriousness in his voice, made you feel like you were about to combust.

Your lips surge forward, kissing him in the only way you know how to express your feelings. You needed him and you didn’t care if you were in the middle of a public road. You needed him to quench the burning in your core. To make you scream his name, to feel his length hit that spongy little spot that only he reached.

Your need for him, drowning out the pain in your lip.

Your teeth clashed against one another, Rhett’s hand rising up to knock the hat off your head.  His hand settling at the back of your hair, pulling you down harder into him. His hip bucking slightly as you grind down against his hard length, pressing into you through the two layers of denim.

The harsh tug on your hair has your head dropping back and an airy moan falling from your lips. Rhett’s lips trail down your neck, wet open mouth kisses left in his wake.

You’d missed this, the way that only he knew your body.

And just like every time, his lips settle over the junction of your neck and collarbone, teasing and biting the spot.

Your hips push down harder, your core burning with need, his lips never leave your neck. Marking you as his own. No one would question if you were together by the end of the night, he was gonna make sure of it.

It’s the nip of his teeth, that has you let out a loud moan, and your hips moving on their own accord. His hands falling to your ass, pushing, and pulling you.  

“Atta girl, let me hear you.”

A whine breaks through your lips at the praise, keening in delight. The cab of the truck getting entirely too hot, and Rhett’s hands find the bottom of your shirt tugging it over your head.

Your lips finding each other again, tastes of whiskey and mint reach your lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip.

His hands grasping and running over your unclothed top, hands slipping behind you and flicking the clasp of your bra.

Your eyes meet each other, time slowing. Your hands hold your bra in place, Rhett’s hands raising to trace your arms. His fingers slipping into the straps, to tug them down softy. His mouth descending to your collarbone, kissing over the tops of your breast.

Your back arches, your hips lifting slightly, chasing his tongue. He laughs at you softy, before striping your bra completely from your body.

A low groan leaves his lips, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” His hand rising to cup one breast, thumb grazing your nipple. A shiver consumes your body, as your nipple erects in the cool air. “Such a pretty girl for me.”

He smirks at you, a teasing look that has you whining and your hands pulling his head down.

“So fuckin’ needy.”

The only reply falling from your lips is a moan, as his lips wrap around the bud. His other hand coming up to tug on the other. Your hands raking through his hair, tugging him forward, the tug of his teeth on you makes your head drop back. Your eyes falling shut, enjoying the way Rhett encompasses you.

He works your body over, still full clothed in front of you, and yet has you begging for release.

Quiet pleas fall from your lips, your need consuming every inch of your body.

“Please. Need it, Rhett. Need you.”

His hips buck up into you, and a high-pitched whine leaves you. Your hands moving to paw at his shirt, the need to feel him, is the only thought coursing through your mind.

You try to unbutton his shirt, but you can’t seem to process it. An upset whine from you, has Rhett’s hands replacing yours, getting the shirt off far quicker than you could.

Your hands falling to trace along his stomach, a smile gracing your lips, and you’re leaning in to kiss him.

Pressing into to him, needing the feel of his skin pressed against your own. The kiss far more than just that, Rhett’s hands rising to cradle your face, and, in that moment, you know you can’t leave him again.

He was as much a part of you, as your need to breath. Without him; it was like you’d been under water, your surrounding muffled. Being back; was like you were experiencing the world again, like you’d been gasping for air, and he was that first breath.

“Need you, Tilly.” The hand cradling your face, has his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. Gently tugging it down, you nipping as his thumb, your gaze never leaving one another.

“Let me have you.” The look in his eyes, pleading for you. Not for just a fuck; but you, wholly.

“I’m yours, Abbott.” Kissing him softy, leaning back to mutter against his lips. “Only ever been yours.”

He sucks in a harsh breath, his eyes watching you, silently questioning you. Waiting for you to laugh in his face, to tell him you didn’t mean it.

“I’m serious Rhett, —” Your voice cracks slightly as you watch him, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through your body. “I — I’m not leaving you again. I can’t.”

You're afraid that tears might fall, the events of the night weighing on you. You know that Rhett loves you, you don’t need to hear it, he’d showed you how he did your whole life.

“I love you so fuckin’ much Tilly, never been anyone else. Not even with you gone.” Your breath is sucked from your chest when he mutters it. Your eyes shocked and questioning. “No one else baby, not even the bunnies.”

The revelation has you surging forward in need, finding out that he had always been yours, sets your skin a flame. Your hands fall to this belt buckle, tugging it undone, as he works at your jeans. The both of you curse as Rhett gets your jeans unzipped, but can’t lower them down your legs. You rise up, ripping them and your panties down your legs, and throwing them into the back of the truck.

Rhett laughs as you do it, your friendship and teasing spilling through the tension momentarily.

“Don’t laugh a me.” Your voice is teasing as you say it, loving the ways his laugh is so carefree. “Now get those off.” You motion to his jeans, more than ready to feel all of him against you.

“Yes Ma’am.”

He pulls them down quickly; a groan leaving his lips at his hard cock snaps up to rest against his tone stomach. The tip red and dripping with precum, your hand reaching out to stroke him.

His length pulses in your palm and you can’t stop the way you bite your lip. The need to taste him overwhelming; the need to have him groaning under your touch.  

His eyes move down to glance at your dripping heat, his hands reaching out to grab you instantly. Fingers tracing down your hip bones and up your thighs, teasing you, your cunt clenching down in anticipation.

“Touch me, please Rhett.”

As the last syllable of his name leaves your lips, his fingers ghost along your slit. Slipping into you slightly, then pulling out to graze your clit. Your hips buck as he does it.

Rhett’s other hand comes up to rest on your hip, holding you in place.

“Hold still.” The bite in his tone pulls at your core, his eyes watching your reaction. Gaging just how far he can push you, and when you bite your lip, his hold on you tightens a bit more.

“You gonna be my good girl?”

The way your eyes snap up to him, slightly glazed over, and the hurried nod you give him, makes him let out a low groan.

His fingers slipping back into your tight channel, nudging that spongy little spot, barely grazing it. Your hips drop farther onto his lap, working to feel him just a bit deeper and when they don’t, you’re crying out.

“Need your cock.” The burning in your core insufferable; and making your mind hazy.

“Take it darlin’.” His nose nudges against your own, lips barley touching.

“Take what’s yours, baby.”

Heat surrounds you, your mind lost in need, and you’re moving to hover over his cock as he finishes the sentence. Your mind only clearing up slightly, looking up into his eyes.

“There’s never been anyone else for me either.”

And you’re sinking down around him.

Those eight months apart, make it feel like he might break you. Your legs tremble, your heat stretching and you’re cursing out.

Your head drops back as a gasp falls from your lips. His cock hitting that little spot perfectly. Too deep, but not deep enough.

A string of breathy whines fall from your lips, and Rhett swears you’ve never looked prettier.

Eye’s glazed over, lips unable to form words, so fucked out, and all you’ve done it sit on his cock.

His hips buck up just sightly, and you’re dropping forward leaning against his chest, mumbling incoherently.

“So, fucking tight for me baby.” His hips buck once more, enjoying the reaction from you. Like his cock has broken your mind, leaving you to be his perfect little doll. “Such a good pussy baby.”

The praise has you keening against his chest, your hips rising up slightly, before dropping back down. Your heat clenching around him, like a vice, his own head dropping back to rest against the seat.

“That’s it baby, take what you need.”

His words spur you on, hands resting on his shoulders as your repeatedly rise and fall on his length. Your hands move to the back of his hair and pull him forward. Needing to feel his lips on you, the pace of your hips speed up.

The burning in your core only rising. Mouths barely touching each other, as breathy whines fall from your lips, working to keep yourself upright.

A particular hard thrust from Rhett has your head dropping back and a loud moan to leaving your body.

Rhett’s lips surge forward, working on your neck as your fingers dig into his scalp.  Tugging and pulling his hair as you climb higher.  

 He can’t hold himself any longer, grasping your hips he pulls you up off himself only slightly. Before you can even register what’s going on, Rhett’s got the center console up and you laid out stretching across the seats.

His eyes watch the way your chest rises in hurried breaths, how he’s got you laid out before him like a god damn feast.

He’s sinking back into you, grabbing both your legs, and wrapping them around his waist. Fucking into you at a feverish speed, your hands above you, grasping the door handle. White knuckled and crying out every time Rhett surges forward.  

The heat within your core becoming all too much as he fucks you. Hips snapping, and hitting that little spot, that has tears gathering in your eyes.

“Please, need it.”

Your babbling uncontrollable, body withering underneath Rhett.

“I’ve got you Tilly.” The snapping of his hips speeding up, and his hand reaching up to cradle your face. Your wild eyes silently beg him for more, anything to push you over the end.

His own release, tittering on the edge. He needed you to come first though, need it to see his girl fall apart on his cock.

To feel your cunt clench down on his cock, as you screamed out his name.

A sharp whine leaves your lips and Rhett feels you clench around him. His hand resting on your face, thumb stroking your cheek, waiting to give you that final push.

Your eyes fall to each other, silently begging.

“Let go baby, daddy’s got you.”

You tumble over the edge, hands grasping at Rhett. Cunt clenching around him, as his own hips stutter.

“Wanna feel you daddy. Need to feel your cum.” Your voice is breathy, as you clench around him even tighter.

Rhett’s hands fall to rest by your head, hips stilling as he coats your walls. His hips slowly fucking into you, coating you completely.

Claiming you as his, and his alone.

His face rests in your neck, as he feathers gentle kisses across your neck and jaw. Causing you to giggle, when he kisses behind your ear.

The both of you enjoy the feeling of each other, needing this moment of peace in each other’s presence.

Rhett pulls away slightly and your hand holds onto his cheek as he stares into your eyes. Love seeping from them, and incasing the both of you.

There would never be anyone else for you, he was it.

Your first love, your best friend, and the man you wanted to marry. How you stayed away for so long eluded you, but you wouldn’t be doing it again.

“I love you, Rhett Abbott.”

#Tilly #rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #outer range fic #outer range #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbot x y/n Tillerson #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #gingy writes #gingy library #gingy #sweetlittlegingy writes

[topguncortez]

Not Dead Until You're Warm and Dead || Whumptober day 7 - R. Abbott

whumtpober masterlist || whumtpober taglist form

synopsis: Your and Rhett's relationship had been anything but easy between bull riding and lies. But you had hoped that you would be enough for him to come back alive.

word count: 2.8k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: flatline

warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, death, character death, allusion of suicide.

When Rhett first laid eyes on Y/N, he knew she was the one for him. He had missed his chance with Maria, holding back on his feelings and letting her walk out of his life. But when he saw her standing on the fence line as he lowered himself onto his bull, he knew that she was going to be his wife. He held on for his life, lasting the whole eight seconds, and impressing her. The boost of confidence from the ride was what he needed to go over and talk to her. Her cheeks turned red as he invited her for a dance, telling him that she couldn’t dance to save her life, but he assured her that it was okay. He had kissed her that night. 

After that night, Y/N basically disappeared. She was nowhere to be found and it seemed like no one really knew who she was. Rhett had asked around town, asking pretty much everyone where the y/h/c girl went and who she was. It had dawned on Rhett, he never got her name. When Rhett was ready to give up, throwing in the towel that she was just a one-night stand sort of girl (even though they didn’t hook up) he received a call from an unknown number. 

“Hello?” He asked, creasing his eyebrows. 

“Rhett Abbott,” Her voice was like honey, and Rhett chuckled to himself. 

“How did you get my number but I never even got your name?” 

“I asked a friend,” She smiled. 

“I asked a friend about you, but it seems like you are just some figure of my imagination.” 

“I can assure you that I am not.”

They had talked for hours on the phone after Y/N had explained who she was. She was originally from Amelia County, but as soon as she graduated high school, she packed her bags and went to the coast. She would occasionally fly back to Wyoming, the last time she flew back was to watch her little brother ride against Rhett. Neither one had noticed the sunset, the moon rising in the sky, or the first strands of the orange morning sun. Rhett woke up to his alarm clock and looked down at his phone to notice that he was still on the line with her. He smiled to himself and whispered ‘sweet dreams darlin’’ before hanging up. 

And that’s how it went for weeks. He would call Y/N after dinner and they would talk for hours about everything under the sun. He learned that she was studying to be a nurse, in her third year at USC. Y/N learned that Rhett had made it to the finals, and she was already looking at flights to come watch him. Rhett rode one of his best rides when he noticed her smile in the stands during the finals. He focused on her the whole time, and the second he heard that buzzer go off, his mind was locked on finding her. The next morning they found themselves wrapped up in each other's arms. 

They continued their relationship long distance for about two years until she graduated college. Rhett had saved up his rodeo money packed up his truck and headed out west. He stuck out like a sore thumb as he walked around campus in his levis and blue flannel. He was going over in his head what he was going to say to her. The last time he had seen her was over six months ago when she had flown home for Thanksgiving. Rhett was going to propose to her, he had already asked her dad for her hand in marriage. He easily found her dorm room and waited on the bench until she came out. 

“Why look at what we have here? You lost Cowboy?” Y/N asked as she walked out the door. Rhett stood up, holding the bouquet of carnations in his hands.

“Slightly,” Rhett said with his usual half smile, “For you,” 

“Thank you, love,” Y/N took the flowers, and then placed her hand on his face and brought him in for a kiss. 

Their date went off without a hitch, Rhett taking her to a lookout spot that he had heard about. He laid some blankets down in the back of his truck and shared the sandwiches and stuff he had prepared. She talked about her final days at university and how she got a good job at the children’s hospital nearby. Rhett told her about how he had finally gotten away from his family, and Y/N was shocked. She never thought she’d see the day when Rhett Abbott left his family’s ranch, but here he was. He took her to the one-bedroom apartment he got which was covered in boxes. He tucked his shaking hands in his pockets as Y/N walked around the small place and explored. 

“Rhett this place is- what are you doing?” 

“I’m proposing,” Rhett said, as he was down on one knee with the ring box in his hand. 

“I know, why?” 

“Because I love you enough that I want to be with you forever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” 

“Yeah, yes! Yes!” 

Rhett placed the ring on her finger and held her tightly in his arms. He made love to her for hours that night, trying to make their bodies as close as possible. They felt as if they had truly become one, their hearts, minds, and souls. 

Their wedding was small, held back home in Wabang. Perry and Royal had worked hard to clean up one of the barns so they could have a reception out there. It was no secret to Royal that he wasn’t thrilled about the wedding and his youngest son fleeing out west. He had hoped that Rhett would take over the ranch when Royal couldn’t do it anymore. Perry was happy to see his brother finally settle down and had hoped that this would stick. Cecilia was also happy to have another daughter in the family. The two of them seemed very fairytale-like as Rhett held his new wife close to his chest as they swayed on the dance floor. But the honeymoon feeling came crashing down quickly. 

Their first fight had been an ugly one, over Rhett’s drinking. Years of riding bulls and popping painkillers had become a second nature to him, something he quite couldn’t let go of. Rhett had found a farm to work as an extra hand, but it was quite enough for him. He thought when he left Wabang and chased after the woman he loved that it would be enough. Having her be his, his own Mrs. Abbott, would be everything he had ever dreamed of, and it was. But he fell back into his old ways. Y/N would get pissed as he’d stumble in at odd hours of the night as she was trying to sleep before her early morning shifts. She had finally had enough of it. 

“Jesus Christ Rhett,” Y/N cursed under her breath as she looked at the drunk man who had just knocked over something, “Why do you constantly do this shit.” 

“Do what? I’m too fucking drunk to do this shit with you right now.” Rhett slurred. 

“Well Rhett! The hell do you expect!? This is the fourth night in a row you have come home completely trashed. You keep doing this shit, enough is enough,” Y/N yelled. 

“What do you mean?” Rhett sobered up as she climbed out of bed, and grabbed a bag from her closet, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving.” 

“No, baby please, I’m sorry,” Rhett grabbed her hands to try and stop her, “Please, you can’t leave me,” Rhett’s voice cracked, “You’re all I have. I left everything behind to be with you. I have nothing.”  

“I never asked you to do that,” She bit back tears. 

“I know, baby, please don’t leave me.” 

And she didn’t. She stayed by his side, even when he told her that he was going back to riding. She was actually proud of him for getting back on the bull. He had done his best to stay away from the temptation of the old life; the booze, the pills, the pussy. But old habits die hard. His body was older now, taking rougher beatings when he would get bucked off. He would have a simple celebratory drink with the guys after the rodeos. Rhett found himself out later at night, coming home to a quiet house with his wife at work. Their schedules hardly ever matched up. He got bored of using his hand in the shower, and he could hardly remember the last time he and his wife made love. 

He didn’t fuck them at first. He’d only let them suck him off before a ride, releasing the tension. But that only did so much. The rodeo hands seemed to look the other way when it came to his infidelity. He’d fuck the no-name buckle bunny before the ride, not bothering to learn their names or even show them an ounce of respect. He saw them as playthings to fill the void he was missing from his wife. He thought he was good at hiding it, but Y/N had always been smart. 

She knew that he was hiding something from him. She could tell in the way he wouldn’t touch her, his kisses were just pecks, and he avoided looking into her eyes. Y/N had even seen it with her own eyes at one of his rides. She had gotten the night off of work last minute and decided to surprise him. The whole crew seemed to act weird and barely paid her any attention as she walked through the trailers to find him. The smile ran away from her face the second she saw him walk out of his trailer, fixing his belt, and a bombshell blonde walking out behind him. Y/N felt her heart break as she leaned against the side of the trailer away from his eyes. 

Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Rhett heard the sounds of someone retching and walked around the side to see his wife. His eyes widened as he ran over to her, and moved her hair back. 

“No!” Y/N cried and pushed his hands off of her. 

“Baby, you’re sick, let me-” 

“Get the fuck away from me!” She yelled and Rhett stepped back in shock, “Fuck you, Rhett! I saw you! How could you?” 

“Babe I’m-” 

“Your shit will be in the driveway.” 

Rhett had come home that night to exactly what she said, his stuff in the driveway, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. So he sat outside the front door and waited for her. Y/N felt bad when she saw him in the morning and let him in. She ignored him the best she possibly could, but it was hard to do. Rhett could hear her break down while she was in the bathroom and it made him shed a tear himself. He sat on their bed and waited for her to come out of the shower, he could see the dried tear stains on her cheeks.��

“I promise you, I’ll never ride again. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

And he had stayed true to his word. He had told his dad over the phone that he had officially given up riding. That he and Y/N had decided to start trying for a family. Rhett didn’t want to spend his time away from his family or worse, like some of the legends in Bull Riding, dead or gravely injured. Rhett had stayed away from the rodeo life for about six months. And in those six months, Y/N and he worked on their marriage. They went to therapy, talking out their transgression and disagreements. They got back to the basics, bringing back romance into their lives; going on dates and trips. They had some of the best sex they had in years. They had both seemed to forget what had happened six months ago until he got that call from Royal. 

“I told her I wasn’t going to ride,” Rhett whispered as he stood in the kitchen. He was making breakfast for Y/N, after a busy night of lovemaking. 

“We’re in danger of going bankrupt, we need this,” Royal said, “We can’t lose the farm.” 

“There’s nothing you can do?” Rhett ran a hand down his face. 

“You know I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if there was,” 

“Fine,” Rhett said, “When is the ride?” 

“Three days.” 

“Three fucking days?! That’s our anniversary.” 

“I’m sorry Rhett.” 

“I gotta go, she’ll be up soon.” 

Rhett had gone to the rodeo by himself, it didn’t bother him, he was used to going by himself. It did make him a little upset that she didn’t even bother to come with him. He stood in the waiting area as he waited for the name of the bull he would be riding. The second he was given the bull, he knew it was a lost cause. The bull was impossible, no one had been successful in completing a ride. His team gave him a pat on the back and Rhett gave them a shy smile. The first person he had called was her. 

“Is there anything you can do?” Y/N asked. She was sitting on the back porch of their house, looking out at the waves as they crashed on the sand. 

“You know how these things go,” Rhett said as he leaned up against the side of his trailer. 

“I don’t like this Rhett,” She said honestly. Silent tears were running down her face. 

Rhett could hear the sadness in her voice, and could only picture the tears running down her face as she looked out at the setting sun, “I know you don’t. But I promise, I’ll come home to you.” 

“You fucking better Mr. Abbott,” She sniffed and wiped her tears away. 

“I will, Mrs. Abbott,” He smiled back, “I gotta go okay, I promise I’ll call you right after.” 

“I love you Rhett.” 

“I love you Y/N.” 

She had watched the clock, as she settled down in a chair in front of the fireplace. The class of whisky was cold in her hands as she counted down the seconds until Rhett’s ride. Rhett said a small prayer as he walked up the metal steps towards the bullpen. The crowd was going wild as he waved his hand and greeted his team. They helped him down on the bull, and it already was bucking the second Rhett put his weight on the animal. Once it settled, Rhett tied the rope around his hand, making sure he had a tight grip on it. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, seeing glimpses of his future life with Y/N, a few kids, and a beautiful house back home on the Abbott Ranch. Rhett opened his eyes the second they opened the gate. It didn’t last long until a consuming darkness filled his eyes once again. 

Time seemed to tick on slowly, and her eyes never left the clock as she waited for the call from Rhett. Assuming from the time it had taken from the ride until now, that it hadn’t gone well. Everyone in the community knew that the bull Rhett had was a troublesome one. It was known for bucking off its riders in the first couple seconds. The second her phone rang, she picked it up. His name hadn’t even slipped past her lips when his team manager told her what had happened. Her heart was shattered in her chest as she dropped the phone on the carpet. Her knees shook as she collapsed to the ground screaming out his name. 

Her eyes were blurred with tears and her head was spinning as she pushed herself up from the carpet. Her phone was still on the line and they could hear her screaming for him. She walked out into the sand, her chest felt on fire as she let out loud sobs. She didn’t stop as her feet hit the wet sand from the waves. The further she walked into the water, her clothing felt heavier and heavier. The waves would crash and pull her underwater. She fought to keep herself above the surface, keeping her lungs inflated with air. The saltiness of water strung her eyes as the waves hit her. She looked up at the sky, looking at the stars and feeling the heaviness in her heart. She felt her feet leave the ground and she took a deep breath, as she felt a wave pull her completely under. 

In the black abyss she had fallen into, she could see the man she had always wanted. Rhett stood there waiting for her, his hand outstretched. She smiled at him as she placed her hand in his. He placed a hand on her cheek, brushing the tear from her cheek. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. 

“I told you I would come home,” Rhett said. 

“I know you did,” She spoke to him.

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17 @cornylovers

#outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range imagine #outer range fan fiction #outer range angst #Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x you #Rhett abbott x y/n #Rhett abbott angst #ailesswhumptober #g's whumptober

[sugarcoated-lame]

Joy Ride

Rhett Abbott x Reader

Synopsis: When your boyfriend, Rhett, picks you up from a night out, you decide to show him how much you appreciate him on the way home.

or I just have a lot of thots about giving Rhett road head and this was the result pls enjoy (:

Word Count: ~1.7K.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI! Mentions of alcohol and drinking, smut, oral (m receiving), distracted driving?, Let me know if there’s any I’ve missed!

A/N: This is my first time posting any writing so please be kind! I’d love to hear any feedback, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated! Thank you so much for reading, I hope it’s not shit! <3 Also, I just wanna say a massive thank you to my beloved @sebsxphia for being an absolute angel and reading this through for me and encouraging me to post it, you're the best seb and I love you so much!!! <3

*

*

It was nearing 2am when the ringing of Rhett’s phone pulled him out of the dozy state he’d fallen into watching a movie on the couch.

Seeing your contact photo, his sweet, shy girl in his favorite sundress and wearing his cowboy hat, had brought a tired smile to Rhett’s face.

He’d been waiting on your call. When you’d told him earlier that day that your girlfriends had invited you for a night out at a bar, Rhett was quick to offer to be your ride home.

“Oh no, Rhett, you don’t have to. I can just get an Uber home.” You’d tried to decline, not wanting to put him out, but he’d insisted. Told you to let loose and have fun catching up with your friends.

He’s more than happy to be picking you up in the middle of the night if it means he knows you’ll be getting home safe after your night of drinking. Even happier for the opportunity to just spend some time with his girl.

After only a few months of dating, Rhett’s pretty sure he’d do anything for you.

It’s now about 20 minutes since you’d called and asked him to come get you, since quickly shrugging on his jacket and hat and heading out the door, that Rhett’s parking his truck just down the road from the bar.

When you see your boyfriend walk in through the bar doors, in your drunken state, you’re up and running.

“RHETT!” Practically squealing out his name, you make a beeline towards him. Jumping into his arms, yours clumsily wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. You’re giggling and planting a big kiss on his lips as Rhett’s large hands come to cup the backs of your thighs to support you.

All the while, your friends watch on, laughing and cooing at the cuteness of the two of you. They loved seeing one of Wabang’s toughest, stoic cowboys go all soft for you, and only you.

After Rhett returns your kiss, you’re swiping the cowboy hat off his head and placing it atop your own with a grin and a glint in your glazed-over eyes.

Rhett gently places you back on the ground, chuckling at the state of you—a giggling mess, his hands on your waist to steady you.

He leans down to your height, gruff voice in your ear asking, “You ready to go, Sweetheart?”

The gravely nature of his deep voice leaves your head spinning, legs a little shakier than they already are due to the alcohol. He made your head spin more than any drink could.

It’s only after Rhett ensures that your friends have a safe way home that the two of you bid them goodnight, Rhett draping his jacket over your shoulders and leading you out of the bar with a hand on the small of your back.

On the walk back to his truck, Rhett relishes in the way you’re all over him. He loves seeing you like this— your usual, slightly more reserved demeanor gone along with your inhibitions. He knows you’re probably going to go all shy on him when he lovingly teases you about it in the morning.

It’s something he’s only been witness to maybe a handful of times in the months of dating you and he finds it endearing.

The way you cling to his side, leaning up to place soft kisses to the skin of his neck, entangling your fingers with the ones of his hand that’s resting around your waist. Still giggling and whispering in his ear about how pretty you think he is.

“...so beautiful, Rhett. The prettiest cowboy, baby.”

It’s moments like these; alone on an empty street in the middle of the night, just the two of you, that Rhett doesn’t feel the need to be bashful about the blush that he knows is currently coloring his cheeks due to such affection.

After helping you into the truck and buckling you in, Rhett walks around to the driver’s side. Letting out a low chuckle as he watches you through the windows. You’re removing his cowboy hat from your head and tossing it into the backseat.

Rhett drives with a warm hand on your thigh, gently soothing it along your skin as he asks you how your night was. You grab ahold of Rhett’s hand, telling him all about the events of the evening and how fun it was to catch up with your friends.

The feel of his large, calloused palm is a sharp contrast in your smaller, softer one. You’re playing with the fingers that had been tracing along your thigh, before bringing it up to your lips to place a soft kiss to his knuckles.

In your still-slightly tipsy state, you’re thanking him for coming to get you. Telling him how much you appreciate him, how much you love him, and Rhett swears he feels his heart double in size.

The two of you had only recently made that declaration, and he still wasn’t used to how much he loved hearing you say it.

Pressing another delicate kiss to Rhett’s hand, you release it in favor of reaching over to run your hand over his lap. Cupping him through his Wranglers, your lip quirks as his hips jolt in surprise, involuntarily bucking toward your touch.

You scoot a little closer to him on the bench seat of his truck, hands working their way up to his belt buckle.

“What are you doing, Bunny?” A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as you begin to unbuckle it.

“I really appreciate you baby. Just wanna show you how much.” You implore with a voice full of need, hungrily eyeing the bulge in his jeans as you work to free his already-hardening cock.

“Honey, you don’t have to-” Rhett begins to speak, but is cut off by the hitching of his breath when your hand begins to stroke him.

Leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, you feel him twitch in your hand as he nearly swerves his truck onto the wrong side of the street. Luckily, there’s really nobody on the road at this late hour.

You lick at the beads of precum that dribble from his slit, still stroking his shaft as you take him into your mouth. Humming softly at the familiar taste of him, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure down Rhett’s spine.

He’s driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other in your hair as you eagerly suck his cock. Your warm, wet mouth taking in more of his length while your hand continues to work at the base, stroking whatever you can’t fit. He tries not to buck his hips up too much, not wanting to cause you any discomfort.

“Easy Bunny, easy.” He groans out as you take him down your throat, nearly losing his mind when he feels you gag around him. Swallowing and trying to relax your throat as you hold him there.

The feeling of the tip of your nose pressing against the curls at Rhett’s pelvis as you swallow his entire length has the both of you moaning. His aloud and yours muffled against him, the vibrations nearly sending him over the edge.

It’s taking Rhett everything in him to keep his focus on the road while you release him with an audible ‘pop’. A string of saliva still connecting the head of his cock and your plush lips, your hand wraps around his shaft as you give yourself a moment to breathe.

You’re placing little kitten licks to his tip while you stroke him once more, kissing your way down his length and back up again. Laving your tongue along the prominent vein that spans the underside of his cock before you take him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you pick up the pace.

It’s when he’s stopped at a red light that Rhett looks down at you, wondering what the fuck he did to deserve you.

Your pretty lips wrapped around him, staring back up at him with those wide, innocent doe eyes. Mascara tears trailing down your cheeks, your fingernails digging into his denim-clad thigh.

“Fucking hell, Bunny!” With a particularly harsh suck, Rhett reaches his high with a grunt. Eyes rolling back in his head as he sends hot ropes of cum spilling down your throat.

You keep him in your mouth, continuing to suck him gently. Prolonging his high until he’s well and truly spent. You moan at the heady taste of him, his grip in your hair tightening, cock twitching on your tongue from the overstimulation.

When you’re certain you’ve swallowed down every last drop of cum Rhett had to offer, you release him with one final kiss to his tip, making his entire body jolt with sensitivity. His grasp on your hair going slack as you carefully tuck him back into his pants.

It’s a good thing there are no cars on the road behind you because Rhett’s frozen for a good few minutes. Eyes glazed over much like yours when he picked you up from the bar, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

He doesn’t know how long he’s sat there in such a state before you’re softly calling his name, leaning over to place a kiss to his flushed cheek.

Before you’re whispering, “Baby, the light is green...” and falling back into your seat in a fit of giggles as he fails to come back down to earth.

When Rhett’s breathing finally returns to normal, he’s grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you into a feverish kiss.

It’s hungry and full of need, Rhett groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Pulling quiet little whines from your throat as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth.

When Rhett pulls back, his eyes are wild. Pupils blown, barely a hint of that beautiful, crystalline blue you’ve come to love is visible.

He starts up the car again, and this time it’s you that’s left breathless. Left in a daze as he practically growls out, accent as strong as you’ve ever heard it,

“Gotta get you home so I can return the favor. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you, bunny.”

...

Thank you for reading! xx

(Credit to @h0neyfire for the Rhett photos for the header (: )

Tagging a couple people I think might enjoy this <;3 @angelic-dreams13 @rhettabbotts <3

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott one shot #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #lewis pullman #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #outer range imagine #outer range smut #outer range fanfiction #outer range fic #rhett abbot smut #rhett abbot x reader #my writing

[sebsxphia]

gentle, rough and loving.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett abbott’s aftercare is the final piece to the puzzle you need.

￫ word count: 2.5K.

￫ music: listen to the incredible and beautiful playlist made by @laracrofted for this fic here! 💽

￫ c/w: endings of smut, endings of BDSM/rough sex, mentions of BDSM, rope, derogatory language used towards reader, one mention of no previous aftercare in previous relationships, sub space, soothing injuries, kissing, swearing, rhett giving you proper aftercare, rhett being an absolute sweetheart and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: i’m dedicating this piece to the wonderfully talented @lewmagoo. their writing is absolutely phenomenal, and what always gets me most, is the beautiful aftercare that they write. therefore, this piece was born! please kindly check out their writing, i cannot recommend it enough! <3 i hope you enjoy! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Gentle, rough and loving are the three words you would use to describe what it felt like to make love to Rhett Abbott. He had your face pushed down with one hand, onto the hard and cold floorboards of your living room floor. His other hand was gripping at your hip so hard, you knew his fingertips would leave bruises. Yet, the hand that was pressed on your face had his fingers curling round to the rise of your cheek, so the wooden floorboards wouldn’t hurt too much. The hand on your hip worked to steady your wrecked frame, so you would never fall forward and hurt your neck.

He had secured your wrists tightly together with some rope. The rope itself wasn’t some tattered and fraying rope that he had found in his barn, no. Rhett had insisted that he purchased proper bondage rope. Your safety was of the upmost importance to him, regardless that he was treating you like a common whore in this very moment. He used his extensive, and ever growing knowledge of cowboy knots, to tie your wrists together and let them rest on the arch of your back. It was the perfect centre of gravity so that you wouldn’t topple over when his thrusts became particularly rough.

At the beginning of your relationship, before any rougher type of sex had occurred, you explained to Rhett your prior experience of aftercare with previous partners was, minimal, to say the least. It was during the quiet confines of your shared bed during one moonlit night. You remember the look on his face, shadowed gently by the moonlight filtering in through your lacy curtains. His face contorted into hard lines above his eyebrows, yet his eyes still wore a soft and loving gaze for you. He was both angry beyond belief that no one would take care of you like that, and deeply consoling to your fears and hurt.

“I promise you, I’ll never let that happen to you, m’love. You’re safe with me. I hope y’ can come to trust me, in time.”

He understood that he had to earn that trust from you in time, and he made a promise to himself that gentle night that he would.

A year later and Rhett had kept his promise.

After the scene was over and he came down from his own ecstasy inducing high, the word loving, was about to replace the word rough. He could still hear your faint whimpers that escaped your mouth in time with your body twitching from your heightened sensitivity. With heightened caution, he slowly slipped his fingers out from under your cheek to allow for your face to gently meet the floorboards. His other hand still had a hold on your hips to steady you, but his moved his fingertips an inch upwards so he wouldn’t press down on the particularly sore points. His hand from your face traveled over the base of your skull, along your spine in your neck and dipped in between your shoulder blades. This was when you first registered his voice.

“Darlin’, can y’ feel that? Feel my hand on your neck?” You let out a small grunt in response. You had intended it to be a hum in agreement, but with lack of water it distorted your voice. He understood your tone none the less and made a mental note to get you water as soon as he was able. He continued to trace your spine with his hand until he reached your tied wrists. He was allowing you to feel his gentle touch, to remind you that his far rougher touch was finished now. His fingertips reached your bound wrists and you heard him speak again.

“I’m goin’ un-tie your wrists now, darlin’. I won’t let y’ go, I promise.” He worked his set of fingers nimbly to un-tie the knots. He only ever used knots that were quick and easy to un-tie, especially with one hand. As you felt the rope be pulled out from underneath your wrists like a table cloth off a table, your wrists went limp and they slid down your hips. Rhett was quick to grasp onto them to allow your centre of gravity to stay. You huffed out a groan that he could only register as, exhaustion.

He made another mental note. “Your poor back and wrists, they must be so sore. Cream, after water.”

“Shh, m’love. I know, I know. I’m goin’ turn you over now, okay?” The hand on your hip guided you down to the floor and then slid round to your belly, to turn you around to face him. The gentle hold on your wrists let go momentarily before he gathered them back in his hand to rest on your stomach. He had you turned over and now sat in his lap, as he sat on the floor. He had one hand resting in between your shoulder blades, allowing him to hold you up right and see your face. Your cheeks were flushed a rosy red, with tear stains tracking down your flesh. Your eyes were drooping and completely glazed over, and you wore a cock drunk, lopsided smile.

He was proud that he could fuck you so good that you would end up as a wreck like this, but that was done now. It was now his responsibility to be gentle and loving with you, and take care of you.

“Can you tell me your name?” Rhett avoided using any pet names that would be used during a scene like that, as to not push you into subspace any further.

“Bambi?” You croaked out with your eyebrows furrowing slightly. His lips quirked up in the corner of his mouth, but he kept it hidden from you.

“That’s not your name right now. Can y’ tell me your name?”

Your brow furrowed deeper and you inhaled a shaky breath. Your glazed over eyes scanned his face and he felt a wave of relief when he saw your eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly. It was a tell tale sign that you were coming back around and you remembered Rhett as your lover and someone who was safe, to you. You called out your own name and he placed a softening kiss to your forehead with praise.

“Atta’ girl.” He beamed in delight. “That’s your name ‘nd I’m here to take care of y’ now, okay, darlin’?” You nodded in response and removed your hands from his to grab onto the collar of his plaid shirt. You buried your face into his neck, letting your cheeks scratch over his stubble and your nose inhale his familiar scent, grounding you further.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett…” You mumbled incoherently into his flesh.

He smiled to himself and moved his hand to cradle your head. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s me, you’re safe now. I’m gon’ take y’ upstairs ‘nd get y’ cleaned up, okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder and let him scoop you up under your thighs, allowing himself to get off his knees and cradled you next to his torso. He carried you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, letting you down softly onto the mattress below. He shed his own plaid shirt and instructed you to sit up briefly. He guided your arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around your bare chest, noticing you were shivering slightly. You held tightly onto his biceps as he pulled away from you. There was a look in your eyes, a pleading desperation for Rhett not to leave you. He recognized it instantly and reassured you within a second.

“I jus’ need to get y’ some water and ointment first, m’love. I’m gon’ be ten seconds.” He pressed another praising kiss to your forehead. Your glazed over eyes looked almost tearful and it caused his stomach to drop through the floor. It teared at his heartstrings, knowing that you entrusted him so deeply like this.

You watched as he left your bedroom, with the glass from your nightstand in his hand. You kept your eyes intently focused on the doorway and awaited for his return from the bathroom. You heard the faucet running and the pipes shaking throughout the rest of your home. When he returned, you held out your hand, as to beckon him for his reassuring presence. He squatted down by the bedside and handed you the glass. He reached up to brush the hair out of your eyes, looking up at you with a prideful smile when you gulped down the soothing liquid within seconds.

“I’ll get y’ another glass in a bit. Can I have your wrists first, please?”

Rhett was well aware of the fuzzy headspace that you could be in. Regardless of the stage, he understood that you may be unable to communicate back to him. Therefore, asking for your permission, or telling you what he was doing was always first on his mind.

You held out your wrists and let him take them delicately into his own hands. His calloused fingertips had always been rough, since the day you met him, but somehow, when they were drawing over your skin it seemed as though it was a featherlight and tender touch. You adored how your rough and tough cowboy, could be so gentle and loving.

He moved the ointment over your wrists and asked you to sit up next so he could soothe your aching back. He could feel your eyes fixated on him the whole time. You were tracing and following his every move. But he knew it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it was because you were finally receiving the proper aftercare that you deserved and you wanted to burn it into your memory forever. He could feel how your body was keening into his loving touch, with every simple swipe and stroke of the cooling ointment. When his fingertips ran over your wrist, he could sense your pulse coming back to a resting rate, which pleased him greatly.

When the pain points that he was aware of were covered, he moved onto your needs that you perhaps hadn’t yet communicated to him.

“Darlin’, can y’ tell, or point, to any other parts that hurt, please?” You out stretched your finger to point at your knees and he let out a quiet chuckle to himself. “Of course. I’m not surprised, y’ took me s’ well, sweetheart.”

He moved up and onto the bed, and caught your gaze in the process. Your eyes had lit up and sparkled brightly at his sweet praise. Your mouth was parted with an anticipated smile.

“I— I did?”

Your fingers twiddled with one another in your lap. He recognized how your body language shifted and the look you wore on your face. You were asking for praise and reassurance, something that you had never had prior.

“Oh, m’love,” he scooted up to where you sat against the headboard. He knelt next to you and took your face in his hands again. “You did incredible for me. I’m s’ proud of you. You’re such a good bunny for me.” He leaned down to gingerly press a kiss to your cheek but your lips met his instead. You hovered mere millimeters away from his lips and you swore you could’ve felt a zap! of electricity connect you both. You felt his warm breath fan over your lips and you gazed up at him through your lashes.

He swallowed thickly and his voice got caught in his throat. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?”

“Please, Rhett.” You breathlessly pleaded. He leaned in to meet your lips and your body almost went limp against his. The first loving kiss that came after a particularly rough fucking, was always the final piece to the puzzle. Like clockwork, you came back around and you were now fully understanding of your surroundings and who you were with. You were with your Rhett, who was gentle, rough and loving.

He pulled away, with you both letting out a small gasp at the sudden contact of air. He held your gaze for a couple of moments longer. He loved the way how you keened into his touch, how you were moving your face to press your cheeks harder against his large hands.

“Let me finish taking care of your knees, ‘nd then I’ll cuddle up close to you, okay?” You nodded in his hold and let him slip away, back down to your legs.

Moments later your body was smoothed out with the ointment, you had another glass of water down you and you had been moved back into Rhett’s arms. He’d pulled out your old laptop from underneath your bed to watch something easy, alongside some emergencies snacks for occasions such as these.

He had taken his plaid shirt off you at your request. You wanted to feel the ever comforting feeling of skin on skin contact. He was sat back against the headboard with you in between his legs. His broad and toned thighs were locking around you and keeping you protected. His hands ran up and down your arms in soothing strokes, and sketched out mindless shapes on your flesh. He occasionally dipped into the snack you had in your hand to feed you one or feed himself, which always earned a giggle from you.

“Do y’ want a bath after this, darlin’? I’ll give y’ a proper massage too, the lavender oil and everythin’.”

Your head rolled back into the crook of his neck and onto his shoulder. You let out a satisfied hum and looked upwards towards Rhett. Your hands moved to cradle the back of his skull and toy with the lick of hairs at the base of his neck. He craned his face down to catch your satisfied, yet still drooping gaze.

“Please, lover.” You paused for a second and sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re s’ gentle, rough and loving to me.”

If your hand was on his chest right now, you’d be able to feel his heart beating in double time. So fast, it could burst right through his chest. Your trust was solidified in Rhett and it made his heart feel as though there was a bed of wildflowers blooming inside of him.

“Anythin’ for you, m’love. I’ll always take care of you.”

“I’ll always take care of you too, cowboy.”

Your own statement was as true as his. After a particularly rough ride and having his knees scraped and his shoulder pushed out of his socket, you would be there. Your hands would roughly grip at his chest and shoulder to pop the bone back in its place, but your hands would turn gentle as you pressed the cotton pad to his bloodied knees. You would lovingly run your hands through his hair as he lay with his cheek pressed on your bare chest, when the exhaustion would wrack his body entirely.

You loved and cared so deeply for each other, that you both knew no one would, or could, ever match that.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97

tagging who maybe be interested: @sunblchdfly @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @peachystenbrough @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

#(also i hope you all get the header showcasing rhett being gentle rough and loving. okay thank u <3) #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #outer range #outer range x reader #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #outer range imagine #outer range drabble #outer range smut #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

[delopsia]

Dancing Beneath The Moon | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 10,000  Cross Posted on AO3 Brief Summary: How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you? Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Ghost!Rhett AU (with a twist! I won't tell you what kind but it's a twist!), friends to lovers, Trevor does not take rejection very well (please be advised that he does yell at the reader and scare them), unprotected sex, mentions of violence, and Rhett's 'murder.' Please refer to the user manual and wash your cowboy before sex.  

"I-I'm sorry, I need to leave."

"Trevor, wait!" Your feet patter across the floor, struggling to keep up as he lets himself out the door, "I can explain."

Only on the front porch does he stop, ostrich-skin boots clicking against the old wood with every step, "You don't need to," holding up one hand, as if to ward you off, "I just...forgot my Dad asked me to interview our new ranch hand today."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again, gaping like a damn goldfish.

"I'll call you later," and that's all Trevor leaves you with, skittering off the porch and clambering up into that lifted F-150, with its perfect, custom black paint that glimmers a deep blue as he tears down your driveway.

Ugh.

"Rhett!" Your voice echoes throughout the house, punctuated by the slamming of the door behind you. So loud, and yet you can still hear the vicious banging of your beloved cast iron skillet banging on your kitchen tile. A shrill clatter of noise that has you fighting the urge to cover your ears as you storm into the kitchen.

And there he is. The translucent motherfucker, sitting cross-legged beneath your table, peeking out from beneath it. "What?" A big, shit-eating grin lacing his barely there features, so innocent and childlike that you almost don't believe he was the cause of this mayhem.

Almost.

The skillet in his hand provides a pretty damning counterargument.

"I'd kill you if you weren't already dead," fuming, yanking that dented skillet out of his hand; Rhett's grip is strong, but not enough to stop you from taking your cookware back.

"I was playin' with that," he huffs, a cold wind that tickles your ankles.

The skillet lands in the sink with a clatter. "And I was trying to have a date," you hiss, throwing your hands up, "but I'm unfortunate enough to share a house with a ghost who doesn't have any fucking manners!"

"I have manners!" Rhett's up in the air now, a buzzing collection of mist that floats up to the ceiling, no longer human, "I just ain't got 'em for big shots that wanna play cowboy for a day!"

"He is a cowboy," he's not. You know he's not. But god, you are not giving Rhett fucking Abbott the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. "You wouldn't know, being ancient and all that."

The temperature drops. Mist scattering. You can't tell where he is anymore. "I would know 'cause I am a fuckin' cowboy!" His disembodied, roaring voice comes from all directions. "No good-minded cowboy wears a goddamn rolex on a work day, 'cause they know that shits fixin' t'get scuffed!"

"Cowboy or not, you're going to have to get over it," as you reach for the tap, you think you can feel his presence behind you. Some invisible thing that sends your skin prickling, even with the knowledge of how harmless he truly is. "Trevor's coming back, and if you keep scaring him off, I'm phoning a priest."

"Fine!" Booming behind you.

"Fine!"

He's gone for the rest of the night.

The pizza guy scares the hell out of you when he knocks on the door. Not because you had forgotten about your order but because you were waiting on the curtains to peel themselves open. Expecting to hear a deep, half-hearted grumble about how "your date is here" as the fella clambers out of his beat-up sedan.

But it never comes.

Rhett doesn't even bug you about giving him a slice that he knows he can't eat, but you catch yourself putting a plate out for him. You wonder if he's in the room to see you rushing to put it back in the cupboard. Maybe he's out in the field because the television doesn't miraculously change to the Animal Channel like it usually does. You don't catch a glimpse of him lingering in the mirror whilst you brush your teeth.

You're glad.

You didn't want to see his ugly mug anyway.

Strange how such a big presence can vanish so easily, without a trace or hint of where he went, leaving this big farmhouse feeling like a husk of what it usually does. The temperature drops a degree or two when he's around, but without him, it feels like you've set up camp in the Arctic. How can a dead man bring so much life to a place?

But the covers are tucked around you in the morning.

You can't see him, but when you step into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and yawning, you can feel him wisping around you. That invisible presence seeking for anything to get back on your good side.

The toast lifts itself onto a plate before it can be burnt by that old, barely functioning toaster of yours. On the table, the weekly grocery ad flips open to a discount on new toasters, a lazily written note scrawled beneath it. 'They even have the color you were wanting! :)'

He pulls the chair out for you to sit, and when you defiantly head out onto the porch to eat, he pulls the patio chair out for you too. You hate giving him the satisfaction of helping, but it's hard to avoid him when he's free to roam this entire property.

But the one thing you've forgotten is just how hot Wabang can get, even this early in the morning. Birds tiredly chirp from their nests, unwilling to take flight beneath the sweltering sun; the old wind chime is silent, not even the slightest breeze appearing to help it sing its tune. You've been outside for a mere five minutes, and yet sweat already beads on your forehead.

A cold nothingness wisps past you. Round and round your little patio table, stirring up a breeze that doesn't reach the trees.

"You can come out, Rhett," fighting your laugh is futile because it slips out as you speak, dancing through the air in tune with the wind chime.

The opposite chair scoots out on its own, a pale blue mist collecting in the seat; it'll take him a moment to get settled back into form. "Did ya happen to find my headstone yesterday?"

Your head is shaking before he can get his sentence out. "Are you sure you were buried in Wabang?"

"I don't know where else I'd be," Rhett's face isn't fully there yet, but his scowl is, settled deep into his nonexistent features. "Wabang was the only place my folks ever knew."

Your heavy tongue can't be brought to tell him about the graves you did find. Royal and Cecelia buried together, their son Perry right next to them, and their granddaughter Amy buried in the row in front of them, next to a headstone simply titled 'Autumn.'

Rhett should know. He deserves to know where his family rests, but you can't bring yourself to tell Rhett that his killer was given the privilege of being buried next to his parents. Don't know how to tell him that the Amelia County Sherrif dug up an old newspaper declaring Perry Abbott as not guilty of Rhett's murder.

"C'n I bug you to put a cup of coffee out?" Rhett chirps, and that permanently scruffy face almost looks real. His eyes must have been as blue as the ocean deep when he was alive, for even now, they glow with their color. The only thing off about him is his slight transparency and the rays of sunlight that spear through his body.

"You didn't smell it enough this morning?" You ask, but you're getting up anyway; you'd rather not deny his request and risk him making a mess by trying to do it himself.

His boots click across the old wood, in perfect tune with your step, "wasn't here."

"Where did you go?" You're already grabbing his mug out of the cupboard, other hand reaching for the coffee pot.

He's quiet for a moment, and then, "barn." When you turn around, he's no longer there, a plume of mist once more, but you don't need to see him to know that his eyes are transfixed on the ground. "Didn't think y'wanted me in the house after last night."

Most people would love it if their ghosts would leave the residence; let them live in peace without being heckled by the souls who can't move on. You'd know; you were one of them, once upon a time.

"You don't have to leave every time we bicker, Rhett," it feels strange to say, but those words are spoken directly from the heart, "this is your house too."

He manifests again. Back to his favorite spot beneath the edge of the kitchen table, cross-legged, where he can peek out to see what you're doing. A little too big to fit, but he makes it work.

Like clockwork, his right-hand toys with the cracked edge of a linoleum tile, the one he's pulled up numerous times in the past.

"Please don't tear up my tile," you try to say it as gently as you can; you know why he's so drawn to it, but you really don't want to spend an afternoon fixing your beloved floor again. Wordless, he leaves his spot, content to settle down in a kitchen chair and smell his coffee. The closest he can get to enjoying its flavor.

You wind up back in bed early in the afternoon. Downed by a migraine that refuses to pass, settling deep into your skull, brought on by an unknown cause. You think it may be from the obnoxiously strong air freshener you plugged in; Rhett blames it on your cellphone.

"Care for some company?"

You're fortunate that Rhett Abbott is easy on the eyes because it's difficult to open them. There he is, standing near the edge of the bed, in the same spot you met him three years ago.

At least this time, the two of you aren't screaming, startled by each other's sudden presence.

"As long as you don't hog the sheets," comes your conclusion, and the bed is dipping as soon as the last word has left your mouth. A weight that isn't there settles across from you, a human-shaped indent that by all means shouldn't exist.

Rhett's hair falls into his face as his pretty head lands on the pillow, snuggling against it, and you know he's trying his best to remain as solid as he can. He says he's not touch-starved, but you're starting to think that he's lying.

Your hand wanders out on its own, carefully settling against that misty cheek, trying not to go through him. "You look a little more solid than usual."

"Only took a couple years of practice," the corner of his lip rises with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Oh, why does he have to look so sad when your hand inevitably passes through him?

You don't know if ghosts can cry, but his eyes seem to water as he feels your touch falter. They always do, but it never gets any easier to look at. It never gets easier, watching his smile wobble back into a frown, and his form grow a little more opaque.

Opening your arms to him probably isn't the best move to make. You've both discussed this; roommates is as far as this relationship can ever go because anything more asks for nothing but heartache. Heartache, such as the crushing feeling of feeling him squirm closer and not being able to feel him when you wrap your arms around his waist.

The only sign that he's real is the coldness you feel against your chest as his head settles against there. And, maybe, just maybe, you think you can feel wisps of his hair tickling your skin.

"What the hell is that?"

You haven't even taken it out of the box, and Rhett is already puffing up like a feral cat about it. "What does it look like, Rhett?"

The living room light flickers, his blue mist settling into the corner of the couch, as far as he can get from the box sitting on the floor. Refuses to take any more form than he already has, doesn't know how to react to this new thing that now sits in the same room as him.

"I don't have a clue," he says after a moment.

"It's a video game console," you want to take it out of the box and prove that it's not going to hurt him, but you don't want him getting any more surprised than he already is.

Against all odds, it seems you've got his attention because you can see his face now, head cocked to the side like a puppy. "A huh?"

"It connects to the television," nodding your head toward the flat screen next to you, "you can use it to play games on it."

He perks at that. "You can play checkers on the TV?"

Checkers wasn't what you had in mind, but you're sure it's on there.

There's a lot of fumbling involved. All the various cords and manuals only serve to confuse him more than he already is, and though he tries his best to help, he's not much assistance. There are less than five cords for the system, and he thinks they're all HDMI cables. But he's helpful when it comes to squeezing behind the television, at least.

"So that box...puts the game on the screen?" He asks as soon as you've settled onto the couch together, scooted as close as he can possibly get. "And you use that thing to play?"

For a cowboy who grew up in the days of black-and-white television, he catches on quickly. "For the most part, yes."

You'd won this thing in a raffle held down at the Bison Valley Bank of Wyoming, entered just for the hell out of it while you were down there a couple of months ago. How you won a new gaming console and why it came with a second controller, hot pink in color, you'll never know.

Rhett's simply poking at the joystick, unwilling to pick it up just yet, but you know he'll take to it like he did your television. Later, you'll wish you hadn't, but for now, you'll download one of his favorite board games.

"Monopoly?" He's fighting it, but there's still a twinge of excitement in his tone.

Now he's picking it up.

And within the hour, you regret even bringing the damn console into the house because you lose. Horribly. As soon as Rhett figured out the controls and the slight change in rules, you knew you didn't stand a chance. You can't even be upset about your crippling loss because he's kicking his legs back and forth and giggling.

"One more round?" He pleads, those opaque eyes sparkling with their childlike wonder, and you know he's never going to let this controller go.

"Let me get a drink, and then we'll play another," are you only agreeing because you enjoy the melody of laughter coming from your household ghost?

Absolutely not.

...okay, maybeyou are, but still.

At least he can't see your smile as you head for the kitchen, socked feet pattering across the cold hardwood without much of a sound. Already formulating a plan in your head, the next surprise move that might help you beat Rhett at one of his favorite games. If you can buy all four railroads before Rhett does...

The floor bends beneath your foot. Something crackles.

"Rhett, can you come here for a second?" Frozen in place, afraid to make another move. The lights are off; you can't see what's going on, but something feels wrong.

His presence is there before you can think any further, a chill ghosting over your body as he breezes around you. Circling like he's making an attempt at thwarting your fears before he flicks the light switch on.

And now you see it.

The kitchen floor is beginning to cave in, bowing inwards, right where your kitchen table sits. Beneath your foot, the tile has begun to crack, breaking into smaller pieces that cannot withstand any amount of weight on top of it.

"That floor's fixin' to collapse, doll," comes his voice, seemingly from all directions.

You're moving to step off of it and venture back out into the presumably safe hallway. But the floor crackles even louder. Tiles buckling beneath both of your feet. Sinking lower.

"I don't think I can," your body sways, fighting to remain upright.

Rhett's silently wrapping around you, formless blue mist shaping around you like a hug, tugging you away with a surprising amount of force. Practically takes your feet out from under you as he hauls you out of the kitchen.

"You're stronger than you look," you mutter in the hallway. Where the floor is solid and doesn't threaten to come out from under you.

"Only when I'm wantin' to be," he mutters directly into your ear, and you're suddenly glad that you've never asked how strong he is, as a ghost and all, "Now what kind of drink were you after?"

Rhett's your kitchen boy for the next three days until you can get someone to come and take a look at your floor. Balancing drinks and plastic cups that occasionally end in a tragic spill because he's not as good at balancing small objects. The first person never shows up; the second arrives bright and early in the morning, interrupting your morning conversation with Rhett on the porch.

"Now, like I said before, I don't have my equipment on me, so I can't guarantee you that this is the case," the guy begins, and you really, really hope he doesn't look up and see Rhett's dumbass sitting on the counter, "but my biggest guess is that your foundation has been exposed to too much moisture for too long."

"What's the worst-case scenario for this?" Your attention flickers between him and Rhett; what if it's something that you can't afford to fix?

He pauses to press his foot against the floor one more time, carefully surveying the way it shakes beneath the weight, tile crackling once more, "now it's highly unlikely, but worst case scenario, in my opinion, would be a sinkhole."

Your face drops.

"But that's highly unlikely," and he doesn't seem too concerned as he turns to face you, "I wouldn't worry until we get back out here and tear up the floor this coming Monday."

So Monday it is. That will be the day you find out if it's a simple fix or if you'll have no choice but to move out and leave your beloved house ghost all by his lonesome. Rhett seems to catch onto that thought, too. Remarkably quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

You can't blame him. For about forty-five years, this house was occupied by a family of religious folk who used some sort of herb to quite literally render Rhett into a state of unconsciousness. One too many surprise appearances in the mirror doomed him to sleep for all those years, only -reawakening after you moved in and scrubbed this old farmhouse from top to bottom.

He's never known what it's like to be alone. The closest he's come to it is the sporadic vacations you've taken over the past couple of years. None of which have lasted longer than a week, but all of which have ended in him waiting on the porch, tackling you the moment you stepped out of your car.

Unless he can attach himself to you, he'll never be able to wander further than the fields that surround your home.

Rhett doesn't take form again until Sunday night.

You don't know why you've drug these two lawn chairs out into the lawn, past the gravel that eats up the area around the house, but you have. Lounging, gazing up at the moon and stars hanging high above your heads, pointing out all the shapes you find amongst them.

The portable radio drones lowly in between you, stuck on the same old country station, ever since Rhett and his ghostly ways accidentally jammed it last summer.

"Do you wanna dance with me?"

And you don't know if...did you make that up in your head? Or was that just the radio?

"You know I'm not drunk this time, right?" Your head tilts, aiming to get a glimpse of him. He's already looking at you, smiles weakly as you meet his eye. Laying here, cloaked in the silvery light of the moon, he looks...real. If you reached out, you're sure you'd feel the scruff of his cheek scratch at your palm.

He hums, "I know." Pausing, just for a moment, to look up at the stars one more time. Your eyes follow, scanning the speckled sky, delighted to catch the tail end of a shooting star. You should make a wish...but you can't think of anything to wish for. "I just...wanted t' know what kinda dancer you are when you're sober."

"Alright," comes your answer; dry, nothing more to add to it.

And you don't know where it comes from, but Rhett reaches off to the side of his chair and plucks a translucent cowboy hat off the ground. Takes care to dust it off with his scarred palm, even though nothing can possibly dirty it, before carefully placing it atop his head.

He holds his hand out for you to take as if it's something that's become possible all of a sudden, and against better judgment, you do just that. Slipping your palm into the chilly illusion of his, deceiving yourself into believing that you feel his fingers curling around your hand. It's not, but as he leads you out further into the grass, it becomes easy to deceive yourself.

"Whoever taught you to dance, anyway?" You giggle as he spins you around; catches you by the waist when you come to face him once more.

He grins, big and wide, and you think you see his teeth glint in the moonlight. "You give amazin' lessons when you're drunk."

Oh, how easy it is.

Dancing beneath the moon, in nothing but your pajamas, held close by the ghost of a cowboy whose soul fits against your own like a puzzle piece. He doesn't know what he's doing, and if he were human, you're sure he'd be stepping on your feet, but he moves in such wonderous tune with your body that it feels like a daydream. His cold forehead rests against yours, ocean eyes peering deep into the deepest crevices of who you are.

You're drifting away from the grass and into the driveway, feet kicking up loose gravel with each and every step. Sweeping past your car, your shoulder narrowly avoids the passenger side mirror. You should be looking where you're going, you're going to drift too close to the porch and fall, but Rhett's gaze is so captivating that you can't bring yourself to look away.

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy?

And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

"You're thinkin' awful hard," the hand that curls around your cheek feels so real, the vague callous of a thumb stroking beneath the corner of your eye.

"Just figuring out how I'm going to pack you up and take you with me," your words are a poorly collected lie; you both know it, but he doesn't call you out on it.

Oh, and he's pushing your noses together with all the boldness of a man who knows what he wants. Your fingers are trying to tangle in his hair, and it's of no use, but you do it anyway, uncaring of how your hands sink through that collection of mist.

"Take me with you, hm?" He's slowing to a stop, the arm around your waist drawing you closer to him. "What happens when y' find someone to settle down with? Y'gonna turn me into the ring bearer at the weddin'?"

"Fortunately," your gaze flickers down his face, and you're so, so sure he's real, "I've already found that someone."

Rhett has no need for oxygen, and yet he sucks in a breath of air anyway, a little reflex remaining even after all this time.

One of you should shut this down right here before it goes too far. But your arms are wrapping around those broad shoulders, precariously balanced upon the thick collection of mist that makes up Rhett Abbott's ghost. The hand on your cheek is dropping to cup your jaw, and the world spins even faster as both of you lean in. His cold breath fans out against your lips, your eyes meet one more time, and...

Kissing him is the only thing you have ever needed.

A heart-stopping boom tears through the silence. Glass shattering in hot pursuit. As your eyes flutter open, the kitchen light goes out.

"What was that?" Your feet are already moving, Rhett's form dissolving into a thin mist, following at your side.

"I don't know," his distant voice rings, "please be careful."

You can hardly heed his warning. Sweeping past the front door, not bothering to take your shoes off, as you head for the kitchen. It's too dark to see, forcing you to fumble for the dining room light that you never use. Your hands graze over the switch, flipping it on, and, and—

The kitchen floor is nearly gone.

Replaced by a deep, cavernous hole that seems to reach deep into the earth. Consumes over half of the floor where your table once sat, reaching from your cabinets to your teetering refrigerator, on the verge of falling in.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to get your spirit to attach to a living person, do you?" You hope Rhett can't pick up on the shake in your tone; there's no way insurance will cover a damn sinkhole.

But your question is met with silence.

"Rhett?" You're turning, and...he's not there. The air is unusually warm, not a speck of mist to be found. "Rhett?" Trying again, louder this time, as you head for the door, because maybe he's outside, maybe he's...

He's not there either. Maybe he's upstairs. Yeah, when he panics, he usually hides out in his old bedroom. He's just upstairs.

The door slams shut.

A second crash follows suit; you don't want to know if that was your refrigerator or if the sinkhole expanded even further.

"Rhett, this isn't funny," shaking the door knob. Locked from the inside. "Rhett, open the door!"

He doesn't.

The windows are all locked down tight. Even the one you intentionally leave unlocked. You find your car keys sitting atop the roof of your car, the paint scratched from where they've been thrown from a distance.

Rhett's chilly presence doesn't visit you when you sleep in the car that night.

He's not there to spook the contractor when he and his crew arrive early in the morning. You don't find him sitting on the couch when they kick the door down, and he's not on your bed when you sneak up the stairs, even after you're warned against going to the second floor. He isn't even there when countless faces enter your home to check out just what is going on in your kitchen.

"I've never seen this before," one of them tells you, her brows furrowed as she looks at her clipboard once more, "but it's not a sinkhole at all."

You don't know if you heard her correctly. "It's not?"

"It's a fifteen-foot hole that must have been dug by a past owner," she pauses to flip through her phone, presenting you with a photo of...just a dirt hole. Nothing special about it in the slightest. "They never refilled it, either; it was only a matter of time before the foundation collapsed into it."

Your mind flickers to your seemingly non-existent ghost. Rhett's never told a lot about his murder, but you know for sure that it happened in the kitchen. "Did you find anything down there?"

That seems to give her pause, ink pen tapping idly against her lips as she rechecks her pages and pages of notes. "Aside from your refrigerator and debris from the collapse...," flicking through another page, "it was completely empty! Nothing to worry about."

Well, at least now you know Rhett's not buried beneath the kitchen floor.

Even worse, his spirit no longer lurks within the paper-thin walls of this century-old farmhouse. You call for him in the fields, disturbing the cattle your neighbor keeps, and you beg for him to be there when you crawl out of bed in the morning. But the house remains warm; the only mist you find is in the fog that settles over your home after it rains, and he doesn't come out to mess with the teen boys employed to carry in bags of dirt, to fill the hole with.

Doesn't even appear when Trevor's F-150, with its irritating color-shifting paint, pulls into the driveway one evening.

"And so there was just a hole under your floor this whole time?" He's sitting in Rhett's favorite spot, cheap beer balanced carelessly between his legs. Has already spilled it once, leaving a stain on your cushion, and you'd tell him off if you weren't hoping it would infuriate Rhett into showing his face.

"The going theory is that one of the past owners dug it," glancing toward the mirror as you speak; still no ghost.

"I bet you more than anything that it's related to that Abbott murder," Trevor says, picking his drink up once more.

Your heart lurches in your chest. "Murder?"

"Did the realtor not tell ya?" Why is he scratching his cheek with the edge of his beer can? "That uh...what's his name? Perry, that's right, got into it with his brother and beat 'em to death in the kitchen."

"They told me someone died, but they never really elaborated," you mutter as he scoots a little closer. "Do you know what the argument was about?"

Trevor's heavy arm slings over your shoulder, drawing you near, musky cologne rudely meeting your nose. This is the same man you've been pursuing for months, so why is it that all of a sudden, your stomach churns at his touch? "Think it was...mmm, I think it was over some broad that went missing a couple of months before. Perry's wife, fiance, or something like that."

The alcohol on his breath has your senses reeling, overwhelmed with a sudden onset of nausea. Rhett didn't have much of a scent, but the little he carried was nothing but leather and honeyed sweetness. Your memory of his touch is brief, can count on one hand the amount of times he wrapped an arm around you, but he never dragged you into his chest like Trevor does.

"I'm sorry," speaking gently, you slide out from under his arm, rising to your feet, "I can't do this."

Trevor's face falls; you already regret speaking up, "what do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I just..." shaking your head, eyes landing on the hot pink controller that Rhett once played with, "I can't."

"The fuck do you mean you can't?" He's shooting up from his seat, beer can hitting the floor, the golden liquid splashing across the hardwood.

Your mouth is opening, but you don't get a chance to speak.

"You sure could when you were begging me to stay in this freaky ass house of yours last week!" Roaring, face twinging with red as he tries to close the space between you. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Loud bangings that rattle you so hard the house seems to shake with it. "You put me through all this just to tell me no?"

"I didn't put you through a damn thing!" Your voice echoes through the house, tone fierce, yet your feet timidly take one step back for each one Trevor takes forward. The floor seems to tremble beneath you. An earthquake that only you can feel.

Trevor's quiet at that.

You'd rather if he just yelled.

Because now he's got you creeping backward, and there's only so much space you can back up into. Your voice is caught in your throat. Stifled by something invisible. Mouth opening, but nothing comes out. The light in the kitchen goes out. Glitters of gold flitter past your head like tiny sugar plum fairies.

All of a sudden, Trevor lurches toward you.

Your head smacks against the wall. Jumping away from him.

"You think that little of me," he laughs, incredulous, "you think that fucking little of me?"

"Trevor." Your voice bursts past your lips. Shaky. But there. "Stop."

"Or what, huh?" Spit hits your face. His hand slams next to your head. Breaking through the drywall. "You owe me! I didn't spend all this goddamn time just for you to up and change your little fucking mind!"

"They asked you to stop." That's not your voice.

And it's not Trevor's, either.

Heavy boots thump across the floor. Spurs jingling with every step. Next to your head, a dirt-covered hand takes hold of Trevor's wrist. Muscles flex as it tears Trevor's fist out of the wall. Shoves it into his chest.

Trevor's reddened face has gone stark white. Trips over his own boots as a hulking, dirt-coated figure steps in front of you. Broad shoulders, covered by a vaguely patterned flannel; plaid, it looks like. Dark brown curls rest at his nape, unruly hair flowing freely. Suspiciously similar to...

"Who the fuck is this?" Trevor's still backing up, and this vaguely familiar man eats up every inch of space that's put between them.

"The house ghost." And that's...that's...

Trevor runs for the door before you can finish your thought. Slams it shut behind himself, like it'll keep him from being followed. Truck already rumbling to life. Downright roaring as the vehicle tears out of the driveway, sending gravel clanking against your windows.

But that's not what you're paying attention to.

Truly, you should be concerned about your windows being broken. But all you can do is look towards your kitchen because the light flickers back on. Gives you a momentary glance at a bottomless hole that's returned once more. Leaving behind no trace of the dirt that once filled it. Thin wisps of gold dance through it like an aurora, seemingly alive as they move.

You blink, and it's halfway gone. The edges shrinking inward until the hole is no more. Leaving behind that same freshly packed dirt.

Leaving behind...

"Rhett?"

He jolts at the sound of his name. As if he's surprised you're even speaking to him. Has yet to speak; confirm it's really him, but you already know the answer to that. He turns. Slow. And you can't help but wonder if that really is dirt because it seems to be fading away.

Slow, your hand drifts out from your side, and when your fingers curl around his jaw, you don't know if it's you who sucks in a breath of air or him.

Scruffy. Unshaven face scratching at your soft palm, dirt sticking to your skin as your thumb soothes over a remaining patch stuck to his cheek. Warm. He's warm. And he's hesitantly pushing his head into your hand, and, and—

"Rhett." You say it once more. The only thing you know how to say.

Tears well in those eyes. They're as blue as you ever could have hoped they would be. So, so real, not a shred of translucence to their color. One spills over onto his cheek, rolling until it's caught and wiped away by your thumb.

His arms are moving, hesitant to wrap around you, and you know he's worried about getting dirt on you, but the only thing you care about is stepping into him. Wrapping your trembling arms around that big, warm body of his and feeling him squeeze you into his chest. Where his heart beats heavy, thunking against you with the strength of an ox.

"I don't know how..." he whispers, hot breath tickling your neck, where he's buried his face.

"You're still an ass for locking me out of my own house," you're trying to sound irritated, but it's difficult to feign annoyance when he squeezes you a little tighter.

"Didn't want you bein' sucked in like I was," it's so strange to hear his voice like this, no longer a disembodied sound, "I...it just...kept suckin' me in every time I got out."

You're leaning away, and God, you don't want to leave those strong, trembling arms, but you want to see that face of his even more. The wrinkles beneath his eyes, the wobble of thin, chapped lips as they rise into a meager smile.

The callouses of his fingers drag against the soft skin of your cheek as his big hand settles there. Not the misty, barely there touch you're used to, but just as gentle as it's always been. His nose bumps against yours. Don't know who's leaning in. You shouldn't. You shouldn't do this.

This time, you know for sure that it's you who closes the gap between your bodies. It's you who catches this cowboy's lips in your own, reveling in that surprised gasp of his.

If you thought that kissing his ghost was heaven, then this is something else entirely.

Molding together like you were made just for this, his hand on your cheek and yours delving into his messy hair. Feeling the strength of the arm that curls around your waist and breathing in those faint notes of leather and honey and something warm that you can't quite place.

He pauses for a moment, breaks into a big, dumb smile as you meet his eye once more. And then he leans in to kiss you once more, hands cradling your cheeks, like you're a delicate flower whose petals will fall if he doesn't hold you together. His body shudders with something torn between a giggle and a sob, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he's smiling so much that your teeth clack together.

Your name tumbles off of his lips. Then again and again, like he's trying to memorize the feel of it in his mouth. The way it rolls off his tongue and twists through the air, the sound seeming to kiss your ears when it meets them.

"Rhett," mirroring him, and oh, how he perks at that. Has he always reacted so beautifully to you calling his name?

"Say it again," his nose bumps against yours as he speaks, "Please. Wanna hear you say it again." So eager to hear you that he looks two steps away from a puppy, the tears in his eyes shimmering with wonder as you open your mouth once more.

"Rhett," you whisper, like it's a secret shared on the playground, and then, again, "Rhett."

This time, when your back hits the wall, it's because a bright-eyed cowboy is carefully backing you into it, one hand protecting the back of your head as he dresses his body against yours. Smiling too much to kiss you, can't seem to get over the feeling of your skin against his, the overwhelming reality of whatever this is.

"We probably shouldn't be..." Higher thinking rushes back to your head in a whirlwind, thoughts running wild in the darkest crevices of your mind. What if's and why's and wonderings of how this happened, if it's permanent or temporary. "What if we cross that line, and you go back to being a ghost?"

You don't think you'll ever adjust to the sound of Rhett breathing or the way his eyelashes flutter as he thinks for a moment. He's licking his lips, mouth opening, and, "What if we don't cross that line and spend our whole lives regrettin' it?" 

One too many kisses may leave you longing for him for the rest of your life, but one too few may leave you carrying eternal heartache. And that's only if he goes back to being a ghost. But he feels real. When you press your palm to his chest, his warm hand covers it, guiding it to rest over his beating heart. Little thumpings that shouldn't be there, full of life and love and all just for you. 

He could have come back to life for anyone. But he came back for you. 

To hell with it. 

Your bodies collide like galaxies. Blinded by a frantic kiss that promises bruises to your lips. Flecks of gold fall from his body as your hands roam, tugging at a flannel, at his hair, at his hands. Legs tangling because you're moving too quickly, and he's still adjusting to walking rather than floating. 

Only break apart long enough to tumble up the stairs; Rhett almost trips over every one of them. Struggling to keep his confidence but boosted along by the kisses you pepper to his reddened cheeks and the gentle tuggings of your hand in his. 

Your back hits the bed with all the grace of a newborn fawn, Rhett tumbling right along with you, chuckling into the crook of your neck. Under the dim lighting of your bedroom lamp, it's easy to catch onto the deep bruising that scatters beneath his right eye. 

"These are from Perry, aren't they," it's more of an observation than a question, your fingers soothing over the marks as if they can somehow heal them.

Rhett's pressing a kiss to your wrist as it roams past, "Don' wanna think 'bout that son 'f a bitch right now."

You can work with that. 

Especially when your bodies squirm further up the bed, his hips settling between your legs, forearms bracing themselves on either side of your head, heaving chests against one another. His lips solid against your own, hungry, urged on by the nails that dig into his shoulders for leverage. 

"You'll tell me if I'm goin' too far?" He's speaking into your kiss, unwilling to remove himself any further. 

Maybe there's a second ghost in this house because something possesses you to roll your hips up into his. Such a faint pressure, the rough bulge in his jeans rubbing against your soft pajama shorts, but it's so much compared to what used to be. "I will," you're interrupted by his mouth once more, "but I'm sure you'll be the one asking me to stop before the end of the night." 

Your hand has a mind of its own, wandering down his chest, flattening out to feel the muscles that ripple along his stomach, hidden from view by his shirt. They flex under your touch, a simple thing that makes your head spin. By some method of madness, that shirt is still tightly tucked into his jeans, the material hard to get ahold of. 

Rhett shifts above you, unintentionally moving when you feel for some slack in his shirt, something to get ahold of, and your hand wildly overshoots. Palm splaying out against the front of his jeans instead. 

"'m not so sure 'bout that, sweetheart," he groans, a deep, guttural noise escaping him as he reaches down, catches your fleeting hand, and guides you to press against him once more.  "I ain't had a dick for the better half of a fuckin' century." 

These old jeans are thick, but even so, you can still feel him twitch against your touch. This wasn't what you were aiming for in the slightest, but watching him shiver as you massage over the outline of his bulge is a hell of a sight. 

"Sensitive," you're only lightly teasing; any more words and you'll be fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You're one to talk," he mutters, head dropping to press his lips to the meet of your jaw, teeth tugging the skin there. 

You think your eyes may pop out of your head. "I thought you promised to stay out of my bedroom when I didn't invite you in." 

"Wasn't in the bedroom, baby," he's chuckling, breath tickling your ear as he works his way towards it, "When you're a ghost, you hear everythin'." 

Then he's leaning back, leaves you feeling cold as he fumbles with his jeans, boots hitting the floor with two solid thunks. An involuntary whine works its way out of you, reaching aimlessly for him. 

"Don't wanna get y'all dirty, sweetheart," he soothes, catching your hand and pressing kisses to your knuckles. Pops open his belt buckle with a pinch of his fingers, and soon those dirty jeans are sliding off, revealing milky white thighs, mottled with bright spots of red and deep purples,  a badly bruised knee to match.

...as well as a pair of boxers patterned with bright red hearts. 

"Y'ain't gonna believe me," Rhett's staring down at them too, teeth worrying his bottom lip, "but I have no fuckin' memory of wearin' these." The tips of his ears have gone bright red. Another quirk hidden until now. 

"We'll get them off soon enough, I'm sure," you say, leaning up to let him peel your shirt over your head. 

As soon as it's out of sight, Rhett's lips return to your neck, one wandering hand soothing up your side, not stopping until it reaches your breast. Does nothing more than feel you in his hand, sucking at a soft spot beneath your ear that has you fighting the urge to close your eyes. 

Your hands wander, one wrapping around a surprisingly muscled bicep while the other delves between your bodies once more. Feeling down his sturdy chest, past his stomach, and not stopping until you can take hold of him through his boxers. 

"Fuck," his body jolts, "'re you sure 'm not dreamin'?"

"I thought ghosts didn't sleep?" You're parroting something you so clearly recall him mentioning in the past, can't place the memory yet. Don't really care to, either. The only thing on your mind is the way your fingers wander past his waistband, wrapping around his cock that jumps at your touch. 

He's thicker than you imagined he'd be. 

Moans prettier, too, for that matter. A little bit breathy and so Rhett. 

"Hands of yours are so fuckin' small," he's muttering in between kisses as he works his way back to your lips. Can't kiss you because a jolted grunt interrupts him, a symphony of sounds as you slowly stroke him. Oversensitive, the first touch he's felt in decades.

His hair drops into his face, acts as a curtain when you look down to where your hand is working him. Can hardly see what you're doing, but you do catch a glimpse of precum beading at his flushed tip, hearing his gasp when your thumb swipes over it. 

"Y'need to stop that," he huffs, voice nothing but air, "gonna...fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep..." And despite asking you to stop, he grumbles when you let go of him. 

Hands now free, you reach for your shorts, not sure why you feel so shy when he helps you tug them down your legs; it's not like he hasn't seen you naked before. From you forgetting he's there to him accidentally floating into the shower while you were using it. 

But these eyes are not the translucent ones you're used to, with their expression hidden by deviations in his mist. No, these eyes darken as they drink up the sight of you, every little thought in his head spoken through his gaze. But even as he kicks his boxers off, shirt going right along with it, you can't help but feel like hiding under the sheets. 

"'ve I ever told you that you're beautiful?" His voice breaks the silence, stroking the inside of your knee as he speaks. 

You don't have words for that. 

He doesn't need them. 

You really don't have words for when he takes hold of your wrist, guiding it up and taking two of your fingers into his mouth. Tongue carefully swirling around each of them, soaking them with a content hum. Your eyebrows furrow, to which he raises his other hand. Dirt beneath his nails and caught in the wrinkles of his hand. 

Ah.

Reluctantly, you pull your fingers from his warm mouth, and you're pleasantly surprised to find that there's hardly any resistance when you press them inside. Open and already wet, helped along by a moment of fun you'd had in the morning, hoping a familiar ghost may come to help you along. 

"How did you know I kept my lube in the bottom drawer?" You can't help but ask, watching as he fishes around for it. 

The tips of his ears are red again. "I learned the hard way not to float through bedside tables."

He's the one who uncaps the container, but it's you who reaches out for him to pour it into your palm. Not because you're concerned with dirt but because you want to feel him in your hand again. Twitching when you take hold of him, a thick vein running along the side of his length. He has to stifle a noise with each stroke, squeezing your knee all the while. 

"You're sure you're ready for me?" He asks when you urge him closer. 

"I'm sure I'll be fine, cowboy," fighting back a noise as you guide him down, letting him push between your folds, some lazy, teasing thing that has his plush head dragging past your clit. Sensitive, almost has you considering making him fuck you like this instead. 

But he's catching against your entrance, and you've daydreamed about this man too many times to pass up the opportunity. 

That tentative, forward tilt of his hips is enough to make your head spin. Pressure blooming as he pushes into you, careful, like you'll shatter into a million pieces if he's too quick. 

"Rhett," you whisper, don't quite know why. 

"'m here," he's coming back down, nose pressing against yours in his own little way of reassurance, "I've got you."

Your earlier rendezvous didn't end well for you, but you're so thankful for it in hindsight because his cock stretches you wide. Blunt head dragging against your walls, massaging past the bundle of nerves you couldn't seem to find with a toy, your thighs squeezing his pale hips. 

"So tight for me," he pauses about midway, or what you think is midway, at least, "you're sure 'm not hurtin' you?"

Your head spins, loose on your shoulders, "I'm okay." 

With a noise of his own, Rhett starts to move again, draws back a little before pushing further, and you can't help but wonder if he's holding his breath. Your nails bite into his shoulders, hanging on as he finally bottoms out, now flush against you. His mouth moves, but he can't speak. Only capable of releasing a shaky breath, lazily catching your lips in his.

He doesn't need to be asked to move, catching on the moment you grind yourself against him. Withdrawing slow, shallow, before pushing back in, and you're so, so full. Clinging to his shoulders to stay in place, feeling like you'll float away when he brushes against those nerves again.

Fuck, he's just begun to move, and you're already biting your lip. Don't know how you're going to keep yourself quiet because he massages past that little spot every time he moves, never lets it alone. 

His thumb pulls your lip out from between your teeth, "Let me hear you, darlin'."

His words alone have your cunt fluttering around him, and you're leaning into the palm that cups your cheek, mouth falling open. "Rhett, fuck."

You don't think you need to reach down between your bodies, but you do anyway, fingers pressing to your long-neglected clit. Working in tandem with Rhett's quickening hips, jolting as his angle shifts.

"There?" He says as if he hasn't already found that damned spot. All you can manage is a nod, a whimpered 'uhuh' escaping you. 

And he's doubling down, cock head kissing that oversensitive spot again and again. Grins wickedly when you shudder beneath him, nails dragging down his pale shoulders, panting into his mouth.

"Fuck, this sweet lil' pussy of yours feels so good 'round me," he groans, thrusts becoming harder now that he's remembered the ropes. Heavy balls smacking against you, and you really hope there aren't any more house ghosts who can hear the sinful sounds whistling through the air. "'s this what you've been needin', hm? 

"Rhett," you don't know how to speak, his name tumbling off your tongue.

"Bringin' home all those dates that could never make you cum," his voice dropping an octave deeper, damn near growling, but the softness in his eyes suggest he wouldn't hurt a fly. "Wouldn't have terrorized 'em if they woulda treated you better." 

That's why he chased them all off? God, how many times did you bring someone home, thinking he was gone? And how many times has he daydreamed about having you beneath him, whimpering his name as he fucks you nice and proper. 

You should be mad, but you can't. Not when you're falling apart at the seams, hand sliding from his shoulders, barely clinging to his bicep. Bounced by every heavy thrust, can't keep your fingers on your pulsing clit, tightening around him as something warm blossoms between your legs.

And he must be able to feel it because his eyes flicker into the back of his head, if only for a moment. "You gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart?" 

This is new. Fuck, this is so, so new and so much. No longer able to keep your eyes open, tongue lazy in your mouth, words long forgotten as you try to nod your head. Mind clouded with thoughts of Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

"Shit, y'got me so damn close, baby," he rasps, hair tickling your cheek as he presses kisses there, "You want me to cum on those cute thighs of yours? Or your sweet little tummy?" 

You don't have the answer to that question. Distracted by the crumbling of his rhythm, thrusts growing shaky, in perfect tune with the tightening coil in your lower belly. Almost there. Almost there. 

He's still talking. "Or would you rather I cum nice 'n deep in this pretty pussy of yours," you regret opening your eyes. All you see is the sweat beading at his forehead and strong hips working you over. Fat cock disappearing into your wet pussy, elicits a dizzying squelch every time. "Pump you nice 'n full of me, just so you'll need me to fuck it out of ya in the mornin'." 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where's your voice? Where's your voice? "I-inside."

Rhett's breathy "yeah?" is all you fucking need. Your back rises up off the mattress, head tilting back with a silent cry as you cum around his cock.

"There you go," Each pump of his length into you only sends your head higher up into the stratosphere. Whimpering, clamping down around him as a shudder washes over you. "Feel so good when you're clampin' 'round me like that." 

And he's still fucking going. Fucking you through it, beating against that bundle of nerves even when you begin to tremble, after-shocks still tearing through you. 

"Hang on for me, baby," his eyes are bolted shut, chasing his high, biceps shaking, so, so close. 

"Please, Rhett," you whisper, your hand soothing over his hardened face. Those deep blues flutter open, softening at the sight of you, like he's just seen an angel "Cum for me." 

A whimper tumbles past his lips,  a second one follows suit, and then those eyes are closing once more, hips stuttering to a halt as his orgasm hits him. Tiny noises escaping his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck, the familiar tune of your name tumbling off his sweet tongue. Filling you with his cum, making good on his promise, jolting as you involuntarily pulse around him.

For a while, the air is silent. 

Until Rhett lifts his head and kisses up your sensitive neck, sending you into a fit of giggles. "C'n we take a bath t'gether?" He murmurs, seemingly shy, unable to meet your eye.

"So long as you agree to bubbles, baby." Baby. You don't think you've ever called him that. 

You can't wait to do it again.

For decades, the folks of Wabang, Wyoming, have whispered the tale of two brothers. Gossiping about a murder they presumed to have taken place, for they knew that Perry Abbott was a violent man, and it was only a matter of time before his little brother became the next punching bag. 

Never have they whispered about the hole that opened beneath the kitchen floor, swallowing Rhett's near-lifeless body up, escorting him to an unknown safety while leaving his lonely spirit behind. They don't know of the decades he spent forced into an unnatural slumber, only to be awoken by another lonely soul with a heart made of the same glass as his own. 

Nobody giggles about how a human scared a ghost or chatters about the adventures they've shared in that century-old farmhouse. They do not know of the arguments, and the boyfriends lost because a ghost wanted the best for his friend, appearing in mirrors and whispering their deepest insecurities into their ears. Worse, they don't roll their eyes over the many tales of him banging a cast iron skillet on the tile just to see them run.

But you do. 

Only you know of how Rhett smiles, big and dopey, as you take him into town for the first time in decades. You are the only person who gets to explain what self-driving cars are and roll your eyes as some new thing scares him into jumping behind you. Nobody else gets to take him on a road trip, watch him fight with a GPS for the first time, and introduce him to the ocean and the concept of crabs.

"Why are they shaped like that?" Rhett's stumbling after you; not sure if he likes or hates this little creature, only knows that he wants to follow you. "Why is he following me?" 

You wish you could see the little bugger, but it's so dark that you can hardly tell where you're going. The only light you have is a dull light in the parking lot and the silver moon hanging high above your head.

"Probably because you've pissed him off," you laugh, holding your hand out when he reaches for it, "are you going to survive two more nights this close to the beach, or do I need to take you back to the pasture?"

He hums, loud and dramatic as he can manage, scratches his freshly shaved chin for added effect, "I suppose I'll survive, but if that crab kills me, I'm comin' back as a ghost and suin'."

From the moment your feet are on the cool concrete of the parking lot, Rhett's spinning you around. It's still the only thing he knows how to do, and his feet tangle with yours a little more than they should, but oh, is it as magical as that night in your driveway.

"'ve I ever told you that I love you?" He smiles as he speaks; knows he says this every time you wind up dancing beneath the moon.

"Never," feigning surprise, as he pulls you in close, noses bumping together, "but I love you more."

And then you're running. Squealing as Rhett sets hot on your trail. He'll catch you before you so much as reach the hotel doors, trap you in his arms, and insist that no, he loves you more, punctuating every word with a wet, sloppy kiss. And you're so excited for it that you think you may let him catch you early. 

Perry took away a lifetime from Rhett. 

You're more than happy to give him a life worth waiting centuries for. 

Even if he does still refer to himself as the house ghost.

#rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #oneshot #rhett abbott outer range #outer range fic #outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #reader self insert #self insert #reader insert #x reader #afab reader #ghost au #ghost! rhett abbott

[floydsmuse]

just thinking about Rhett pulling you onto his lap, holding you close against his chest, & letting you play with his hair & twirl your delicate fingers through his curls at the nape of his neck when you’re feeling particularly nervous, anxious, or need to feel grounded :,)

#he loves when you do it #and he’d soothingly rub up and down your back #to further ground you and calm you down 🥹 #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

[ohtobeleah]

Outer My Mind // Rhett Abbott

Prologue: (Mrs Forgettable) Losing a child is always, always a hard challenge to overcome. But what’s worst than losing a child you never thought you wanted? Losing your best friend to a girl you seriously couldn’t stand. And what’s worse than that you ask? Knowing it was always going to happen.

Warnings: Miscarriage. Rhett Abbott x F!reader. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Friends to lovers. Misguided Feelings.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author Note: Prologue Set Two months before the events of Outer Range.

Outer My Mind Masterlist

“I’m sorry, Miss Y/l/n—“ For what it was worth, you weren’t even sure if you were ready to be a mother. The reality had kind of been thrust upon you in a whirlwind of uncertainty and unapologetic anger at the prospect that such a life changing, monumental commitment could come from the simple fact you’d fucked up. “I can’t detect a heartbeat.” 

Rhett Abbott had never been good with his emotions. It was something everyone knew about the younger Abbott boy. He didn’t know how to express his feelings besides that of anger and rage. Those two things came to Rhett like the tide went with the cycle of the moon. Forever coming and going, flowing through his veins easier than the adrenaline he chased every time he got on the back of a bull. 

But when five words escaped from your mouth as you looked at the empty ultrasound, listening to nothing but the Doppler loop that should have been your baby’s heartbeat, Rhett turned his head to look at you. He saw your pain as clear as day as you tried to remain as calm and as brave as ever. But for a brief moment Rhett felt something so profound inside him, so deep that his heart ached and his stomach hurt. He begun to mourn someone he never even got the chance to know. He felt for once something other than anger and rage and if he was perfectly honest? Rhett Abbott thought his life had just ended. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no I don’t think you did anything wrong.” Doctor Miller smiled softly as she tried to convey her deepest condolences and sympathies, telling expecting mothers and fathers that they were no longer bringing life into this world was the worst past of her job. “But what I think we should do, after you’ve given yourself some time to recover and grieve your loss together, I think we should schedule you in for some tests.” Doctor Miller explained as she wiped the cool gel from your stomach. “To make sure if you’d like to try again, that you’ll know what to expect and if there’s any extra steps you’ll need to take to give yourself and bubs a better chance.” 

You’d lost your baby. Rhett’s baby. The baby you’d made together one stupid night after a few too many drinks. The baby you weren’t planning or even thought you were ready for. The baby that had consumed your world for the past twelve weeks. The baby that had made Rhett’s heart beat with a little more purpose. 

You’d lost that baby, Rhett’s baby. And you hated yourself for that. 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be trying again anytime soon Doctor Miller but thank you for the recommendation.” You took a deep breath as you pushed your shirt down to cover your stomach and sat up on the exam table. “I’ll uh, I’ll call to book those tests in a few weeks.” You faked a painful smile as Rhett placed his hand on the small of your back. A small gesture, but one you accepted. “Thanks for your time Doctor Miller.” You faked another smile, and stood from your place on the extant table, or bed—whatever the hell it was. 

“I’ll take you home.” Rhett mumbled softly out of the corner of his mouth as he walked with you out of the old Amilia County hospital. You’d called Rhett in a fit in the late hours of the afternoon when you’d woken up from a nap with blood between your legs that stained deep into your mattress. “C’mon Rebel, let’s get you home.” 

You were usually so composed and so level headed. But the second Rhett came bursting through the front door after he’d heard you crying out in uttered heartbreak and pain on the other end of the phone, you collapsed into a state of in between. You tumbled into a hole, a tear in the cosmos between heaven and earth. The Greek God Chronos did that to separate this world from the next, to separate the known from the unknown. He never intended for humans to fall inside, yet here you were. 

Free falling. 

“Yeah—yeah let’s get me home.” You took it upon yourself to wrap your arm around Rhett’s torso as he kissed the top of your head gently. He’d fill out whatever paperwork needed to be filled out and filed and he’d listen to the nurse explain what pain relief you had to take in order to help things pass. “I just wanna go home.” 

Rhett didn’t know how or what to say to console you, hell he didn’t know what to say to you on a regular day to day basis. You somehow always had him stumbling over his worlds, chasing his tail trying to catch up with your quick witty self. Rhett Abbott was your other half, your best friend, your so it would seem—almost baby daddy. But his heart had always belonged to someone else, that fact had been well known by the entire town of Wabang since you were both sixteen years old. 

But you were little Y/n Rebel Y/l/n, from the Ranch on the boarding south west paddock of the Abbott Ranch. Wherever you went Rhett wasn’t far behind and wherever Rhett wondered off? There was a fairly good chance that you were with him. 

Until Maria. 

“I uh—I’d like to just keep this between us.” You picked at your cuticles as Rhett drove you back to Drovers Run. “Seems pointless to put such a burden on others when all they’re gonna do is look at me with pity and sympathy.” Rhett turned to look at you as you slumped in his passenger seat. You were too busy looking out the window at the passing paddocks that all looked the same to notice Rhett looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky just for him and then some. “No one needs to know right?” 

You and Rhett had both been waiting for the right moment to tell your uncle and Rhett’s family that you were pregnant. You were both trying to wrap your heads around the fact for two people who weren’t even dating, you were about to be parents, you were about to bring a whole other life into this world. A life you’d drunkenly created one night when you stammered back to Rhett’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning just as Royal had been stirring. 

That moment never did come. 

“If you don’t wanna tell anyone I won’t say a word.” Rhett agreed. “But uh, listen—I just want you to know that I don’t think this is your fault.” 

“I’m glad someone thinks so—“ You mumbled to yourself. How could you lose your baby? Was it because you thought you wouldn’t be a good mother? Was it because you weren’t sure if you wanted to be a mother? Was there something wrong with you? 

“I—“ Rhett cleared his throat as he reached out to rest his free hand on your sweatpant clad knee. “I’m uh, I’m here for you, I am, whatever you need.” 

“I just need you to be you, Rhett.” You sighed as you held back tears that threatened to spill from your waterline. Resting your head back against the headrest as you turned to look over at Rhett. You were exhausted and overwhelmed with so many emotions, that was clear to anyone. “I just need you to be you so I can be myself and we can get over this mess.” 

“If you ever need to just talk about it, I’m always here.” 

“Same—“ You sighed. “Same, but I don’t wanna talk about it, ever.” Rhett accepted your answer and pressed his lips together in a firm line. Silence filled the cab as he drove out past his family’s Ranch and carried on over to Drovers Run. Your dads property. “But I’ll tell you what, I need a stiff fucking drink.” 

“I think we should just get you home and into bed don’t you think?” Rhett smiled for a brief moment as you chuckled softly. Drinking right now would be a bad idea and you both knew it. 

“Yeah, yeah alright—but you can just drop me off at the main gate Rhett, I’m fine, really.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah totally.” You lied. You lied straight through your teeth. “I mean, us? As parents? That was never gonna end well was it?” You had begun to think maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad after all, what you didn’t know was that Rhett had started to feel the same. He even went out and found a ‘what to expect when you're expecting’ type book at the public library. Guess he was gonna have to return that now. 

“For what it's worth I was ready.” Rhett nodded softly to himself as he choked back a few tears. “I was ready to do whatever you wanted me to do, if you wanted me involved or not or—whatever you needed I was ready.” 

“I know.” You replied softly in the silence of Rhett’s cab. “So was I.” You just needed some time though, you both did. “Thanks for driving me home.” You politely got out of Rhett’s truck and walked around to his window, he watched you every step of the way. When you got around to the open window that was when Rhett saw the tears on your cheeks for the first time. He hadn’t even noticed you’d been crying. 

“Rebel—“

“I’m sorry I lost our baby Rhett, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be yeah?” 

“You don’t ever have to apologise for something that wasn’t your fault.” Rhett kissed your forehead as he pulled you closer by the back of your head and held you close. “I’m sorry it wasn’t meant to be though.” 

“Seeya round Rhett.” You sighed as you stepped away, watching as Rhett pulled into reverse and turned his truck around. You watched for a while till the sight of his tailgate disappeared into the distance and only then did you turn around to start the journey up the long gravel driveway. Allowing yourself to break in the peace and quiet that was your home. Your safe place where no one ever saw you falter. 

 “FFUUUCCCKKKK!” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Heidi Fye had never saw the right hook you swung at her coming her way. By the time she had a chance to process what had happened? She was already on the ground. You’d decided after a few hours of crying on the bathroom floor that you really did need that stiff drink after all, and one drink had led to another. And another and another and another and soon enough you were hearing colours and seeing sound. 

“You wanna say that again?” Perry knew better than to interfere with a bar brawl and as he watched Heidi stammer to her feet? He had every reason to believe you knew what you were doing. He’d come out for a few beers to deal with his own grief of Rebecca still being gone without a trace. 

“C’mon bitch, say it again.” You taunted Heidi as you swayed on your feet. Stumbling around as you tried to lock eyes with the blonde bimbo barbie who definitely didn’t look good in the particular shade of red her blood was. “I dare you—“

“I said the little orphan girl is drinking herself into a stupa fellas.” Heidi sneard as she took a swing at you, connecting her fist with your jaw. Perry swore he heard a crack as you twirled and stumbled into his lap as he sat up at the bar. He caught you as you fell and stood to help you up. 

“Jesus Rebel, let’s get you home huh?” Perry chuckled to himself as blood dripped down your chin. It felt good to feel something, anything. You felt like you’d been floating out of this world all afternoon since your world was flipped upside down and on its head. You’d lost your baby. 

“Hi Perry.” You cooed. “I didn’t even see ya there.” All Perry did was look at you as you tapped his chest three times and fixed his collar. “How you been?” You asked casually like you hadn’t just had your shit rocked. Like you hadn’t started miscarrying earlier that same day. You still were, apparently it can take anywhere up to a few days to pass. You didn’t know that. Not until Doctor Miller had told you to take it easy for a few days. 

“I think it’s time I take you home.” Perry groaned as he helped you stand on your two left feet. “C’mon.” He sighed, finishing his beer. “Get in the truck kid.” You did as you were told and walked with Perry as he guided you out with a hand pressed to the small of your back. But you paused, always needing the final say. Turning over your shoulder as you smirked and spat blood. 

“Hey Heidi! Just for the record my parents may be dead but at least when my mum was alive? she didn’t fuck half the town!” The bar cheered and whistled at your insult, but it wasn’t long before they were cheering and whistling against you. 

“What, you mean like Rhett Abbott has?” Everyone and their mother knew what you were to Rhett Abbott. You were the backup plan. The girl he kept just close enough to have yet far enough away to not get your hopes up. Your best friend, your neighbour, your forever love, your almost baby daddy, So when Heidi Fye insulted Rhett you saw nothing but red and Perry knew. He damn well knew if he didn’t hold you down you’d attack Heidi and rip her flesh from her bones. 

“Perry let me go so I can put her in the ground!” 

“Nope—I ain’t letting you get the shit kicked out of you because Rhett doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants.” You softened against Perry as he carried you out of the bar. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of his neck when he crouched to pick you up—wrapping your legs around his torso. Holding you tight. 

“He’s pretty though, isn’t he.” You mumbled. “He has a real pretty smile Perry.” 

“Oh my god how much have you had to drink?” Perry chuckled to himself, he knew how you felt about his brother. He knew how Rhett felt about you, but he knew that Rhett was always gonna put you in second place. Second Place to Maria Olivares. You let a few tears fall free down your cheek as you held onto Perry as tight as you could, just needing a hug and being carried out of the bar by Perry Abbott, older brother extraordinaire, would just have to do. 

“For the day I’ve had Per, not nearly enough.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Perry drove you up to the main entrance of your property, you had told him through a slur of mumbled words that he could have dropped you off at the main gate—but he ignored your incoherent explanation and drove you right on up. Truck to front door service. 

“Thanks again Perry.” You groaned as you slipped out of the truck. 

“You got your keys?” He asked as he shut the passenger side door. 

“Nah, dad usually leaves the front door unlocked, I’ll be fine.” In the mists of your drunken state you’d forgotten your dad had passed three months prior. Perry didn’t respond, he just watched you stammer up the stairs onto the front porch. “Seeya Perry.” 

When your hand wrapped around the locked front door you just let your forehead rest against the old wooden door that had white paint peeling from the exposure to the elements. Your dad was dead and you’d just lost your baby.

“Fuck—“ You sighed. “Damnit.” 

“You got a way in?” Perry shouted from the truck as he watched you nod. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ll figure it out.” You were gonna have to bust a window in. “Go home Perry, I’m a big girl now.” 

“I know, just making sure you’re alright.” You stumbled around on the front porch as you looked around for something big enough and heavy enough to throw through the window near the front door. When you front the little fisher frog statue of your dads you knew that would be enough. Bending over, Perry watched as you lugged it through the window, flinching at the sound of smashing glass and the old broken window pane.

You just turned with slumped shoulders, gave him a soft smile and said three simple words that were so hard to believe it made Perry wonder if you were really doing okay or not. But he didn’t stick around to question you, he took your word for it knowing that if you needed help you’d reach out. 

“Never been better.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

When your alarm clock rang out through your bedroom you gasped as it startled you awake. Ringing constantly in your head as you rolled over onto your back and sat up. Looking around to see you hadn’t even made it onto your bed. The floor must have looked a little more enticing last night, although your lower back seemed to disagree. 

“Alright alright I’m getting there Jesus Christ.” You hissed as you staggered your way over to your bedside table, smacking your obnoxiously loud alarm off. “Fucker—“ It was only when you turned your head you saw the blood still staining your sheet. “Oh—“

That’s right, even drunk you knew there was a reason against sleeping in your own bed. Hungover you was still catching up and sober you had mentally checked out the second she left the hospital with Rhett. 

It was something you would have to take care of at another time because right now you had to get yourself showered, eat, make a coffee with enough caffeine in it to kill a horse and get out to the boundary line to fix the fences that had come down in the storm that had ripped through two days ago. 

So with a heavy heart and even emptier soul, you trudged yourself down the hall to the bathroom, showered, ran down stairs as you fixed your belt and tucked your shirt in, made your coffee and ate your toast all the while still knowing you were still bleeding. 

You didn’t have time to put your life on pause to grieve. So you put a pad on and prayed it would be enough for now until you could make it back for lunch. 

“Ahh.” Perry smirked as he caught the sight of you heading up towards the boundary fence. “There she is.” He chuckled, Rhett just raised a brow his brother's way as you held a finger up, flipping Perry off. “How’d you pull up this morning Rebel, how’s the head?” 

“I’ve never had any complaints.” You shot back, hoping down from Chester as you led him over to one of the watering troughs. You audibly heard Royal groan as Rhett and Perry laughed softly to themselves. Rhett, albeit still mourning a loss his family would never know about, found a little joy in the way you so effortlessly made him smile. “I’m just kidding Royal.” You made sure to correct yourself. “Head’s throbbing a bit but I’m fine, Heidi’s just lucky I was having an off night.” 

“Rhett here had an off night too.” Royal sighed as he shook his head. “Drank all my damn beers and fell asleep at the bottom of the stairs—“ Rhett tried to hide his embarrassment as you crossed your arms over your chest on the other side of the broken wire fence. Watching as he tightened the line he’d been working on. 

“Don’t forget to mention he was mumbling that Maria girl's name over and over.” Perry added and your heart sank. You and Rhett both shared a loss so profound that it was gonna take its toll one way or another—but you thought for a little while Rhett would stick around. 

But he wasn’t tethered to you by a technicality anymore that had been created on the basis of a one night stand. A stupid decision you’d both made. He wasn’t yours and that was a hard pill to swallow considering you've been in love with Rhett Abbott your entire life. 

“Maria huh?” You chuckled as you looked over your shoulder for a brief moment at the expanse of the damage done to the fence. You were gonna be out here all day. Good thing you were wearing dark jeans. “You’ve been in love with that girl since we were sixteen years old.” 

Rhett just looked up at you, he didn’t know what to say in response. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, because he did. He just always found himself hung up on Maria and you didn’t deserve that, to feel like a second thought. He needed time to get the idea out of his mind that he was going to be the father of your child. The child you’d created together only to lose a few weeks later. 

“Guess so—“ Was all he mumbled and you just scoffed, knowing there was nothing else left to say. Be there for you, your ass you thought. Damn, always the bridesmaid, never the bride. There had been a hundred times when you hadn’t recognised any part of Rhett that loved you. You tried to memorise and identify the moments when you thought perhaps you’d be something more, the night you’d created a whole new life was just the tip of the iceberg. It hadn’t been the first time you’d slept together, and it hadn’t been the first time you’d done the walk of shame. But it was the last, you were sure of it—because it all gotten so foggy. So fucking messy: 

Forever and always Mrs Forgettable.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~***~***~**~***~***

Tags: 🏷️ @bradshawseresinbabe @valhallaas @lewmagoo @delopsia

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