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lewmagoo · 1 year

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i smile at the moon | rhett abbott

description: in which two wild souls become knit together as one

warnings: 18+ only, werewolves, violence, animals fighting, perry abbott slander, mentions of death, family drama, mentions of blood, smut, breeding kink, unprotected sex (basically a mating ritual lol), possessiveness, creampie, biting, scratching, all around animalistic themes

pairing: werewolf!rhett abott x f!werewolf!reader

notes: yeah so this started out as me wanting to write naughty werewolf smut and then it turned into a 10k+ word story complete with my own werewolf lore. thanks to @lovinglyeternal bc they basically created this monster by sending me a werewolf rhett concept. you are responsible for my insanity ;-)

He could smell you.

Each inhale of your scent was intoxicating. Stronger and sweeter than anything he’d ever smelled before. Citrusy, in a way. Warm and spicy like a hot cider.

All his life he’d been told that the scent of one’s mate was unique and indescribable. The most wonderful, appealing, all-consuming scent. Before he found you, he’d tried to imagine what it would smell like. His mama’s brown butter chocolate cookies, fresh out of the oven? Cotton candy, from the county fair? The comforting sweetness that hung in the air of his favorite childhood ice cream shop?

However, all of those scents paled in comparison to you. It hit him like a freight train the first time he met you. His knees went weak, his spine tingled as if he’d been struck by a bolt of white-hot lightning. It hit you just as hard, overwhelming your every sense. At that very moment, both of you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were made for each other. The Fates had brought you together and your bond would never be severed.

You would never forget that first meeting in the woods. You were part of a neighboring pack. New to the region, having recently migrated from your old home because tensions between your pack and a rival one had grown to concerning levels.

To avoid a full-blown war, your pack had moved out west, hoping to start fresh. And a fresh start was exactly what you found. But little did you know that it would also lead you to find the one you were destined for.

You met him the day his pack came to make a formal introduction and welcome you to the region. The Northeast Wyoming pack was comprised of the Abbott family descendants.

However, the pack was not as great as it had once been. What used to dominate the entire northeastern region of Wyoming had been reduced to a very small family of wolves. Royal, the alpha. His wife Cecelia. Their son, Perry; the eldest and next in line for alpha status, and their younger son, Rhett. Finally, there was Amy, Perry’s young daughter.

Rumor had it Perry once had a wife, but she’d ultimately left the pack and chosen to become an omega. Or, so you’d heard.

When you heard the pack was coming to welcome you to the area, you had no idea what to expect. These were potential allies, but if something went wrong, they could very quickly become your enemy. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that. You were tired of fighting and wanted nothing more than to finally enjoy a season of peace.

Little did you know that you were about to meet the one you would mate with for life.

They came at sunset, bearing gifts. Food for your table. Good bottles of wine. They even brought a few toys for some of the small children in your pack.

Cecelia did most of the talking. She was warm and friendly and gave you a hearty welcome, informing you that she was so happy to have new neighbors in the region, and was looking forward to rebuilding the community they’d lost over the years.

Silently, you wondered why their pack was so small. Yours had nearly twenty members. Theirs had five. Perry had a child, an heir, already. Which left Rhett, the only one who hadn’t furthered the bloodline yet.

Of the whole family, he was the last one to arrive that night. Royal made an offhanded comment about him always being late, and how he was just being lazy. The comment rubbed you the wrong way. Especially since Rhett wasn’t even there to defend himself. You didn’t even know the man, but you already felt a strange sense of protectiveness toward him.

Odd, you thought. But instead of dwelling on it, you simply turned and joined the rest of your pack, ready for the evening’s festivities to begin.

Rhett arrived a little while later. A rickety old GMC Sierra pulled into the gravel driveway, and it caught your attention. You glanced over to see a young man climbing out of the driver’s side. You couldn’t quite see his face yet, but you could tell he was handsome.

That’s when you caught it. The breeze blew in your direction, and a scent unlike anything you’d ever smelled before filled your entire being. Deep and musky, like pine and woodsmoke, yet sharp and fresh, like the air after a rainfall.

It pulled the deepest of gasps from you, and you dropped the stack of plates you’d been carrying out of the house for the outdoor supper. You vaguely heard your mother calling your name, asking what was wrong, but you hardly registered it. Without another thought, your legs were moving of their own accord, carrying you straight for the brunette-haired man walking up the lane.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a figure quickly approaching. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the scent. Sweet and spicy and delicious. He tensed, his eyes widening as his nostrils flared slightly. He’d never been hit with something so strong and irresistible. Suddenly his world was spinning off its axis as he realized what this meant.

His heart began to pound in his chest. His palms grew clammy. His knees went weak. And then, suddenly, you were in front of him, eyes glowing yellow, bright as the sun, and he thought he was going to suffocate right then and there as the breath left his lungs.

You weren’t sure who moved forward first. But all at once you were in each other’s space, like two lovers reunited after years apart.

Rhett leaned in and pressed his nose to the side of your neck, breathing in deeply. You buried your face against his chest and inhaled sharply. This was customary for wolves. Especially ones mated to each other, to greet one another by taking in the other’s scent.

When you parted, you realized that his eyes were glowing, too.

“It’s you,” he whispered, awestruck. His chest heaved. He could hardly take in oxygen.

You barely knew what to do with yourself. You were so overwhelmed that all you could do was stare at him, drinking him in. The one you had dreamed of since you were small. Your hands lifted of their own accord, and you ran them over his face. Down his neck. Across his chest. Feeling that he was in fact real and that this wasn’t a dream.

Then, when you found your voice, you breathlessly spoke. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Rhett finally found the breath he needed, and a disbelieving laugh brushed past his parted lips. He could hardly believe his eyes. Here you were, standing before him. The one he thought he’d never meet. He’d been certain that he was cursed to go through life without a mate. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, and an all-consuming sense of elation buzzed through him, like fizzy champagne in his veins.

You watched as he took a step back, his boots crunching against gravel as he threw his head back, face turned to the sky. He took a deep breath and let out a deep wolf howl, sounding through the wilderness. It echoed off the trees and it shook you to your core.

You couldn’t help the laughter that began to pour from your mouth. Laughter of disbelief. Laughter of joy. Laughter of love. “It’s you!” You repeated his own words from moments prior, still laughing, so happy you could barely contain it.

He looked back at you, his eyes, back to a thrilling and human blue, framed by smile lines as he grinned at you. His howl had alerted the rest of your pack, and his own, and moments later, they were all gathering in the clearing to see what was going on.

You grabbed Rhett’s hand, holding it up high as your fingers intertwined. “I’ve found him!” You cried. “I’ve found my mate!”

That night, what had started as a friendly dinner between new neighbors turned into a celebration that lasted well into the night. It was a joyous occasion, to find one’s mate, deserving of an extravagant celebration.

You swore you didn’t stop smiling for the entire night. The realization that in a moment of divine fate, you had met the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. Your soulmate. The half to your whole. Suddenly, all the strife that you’d gone to just to get to this point seemed all worth it. Because now, here was this beautiful man beside you, rugged but gentle, with kind eyes and a shy smile. And he was everything you’d dreamed he would be.

Your families gave you time alone that night, and you walked beneath the light of the half moon, side by side, straying away from all the activity to find a quiet spot.

You sat in a clearing in the woods and you talked for hours. You told Rhett all about your pack, and the unrest that had forced you to move all the way out here to Wyoming. You spoke of each pack member with such reverence and respect, and it sent a pang of envy through him.

He revealed to you that he did not have the most positive relationship with his family.

“We’ve, uh, we’ve been through some shit, the last few years. It’s put a strain on the pack. ‘specially my relationship with my brother.” He gazed out across the expanse of the woods, and in the silver light of the moon, you saw a sadness in his eyes. “His wife Rebecca left him and Amy. He didn’t take it very well.”

“That’s sad,” you whispered sympathetically. “Do you know why she left?”

Rhett’s eyes remained trained toward the distance, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed. “Don’t tell my folks I said this, but he ran ‘er off. I saw it comin’ from a mile away, but everybody else seemed blindsided when she wound up running for the hills.”

“Were they mates?” You questioned.

“Nah. Perry said they were, but they weren’t. He didn’t want to wait to find his mate. Went against pack customs just so he could have Rebecca for his own. She went along with it at first. Even had a baby with him. But when I tell you I ain’t never seen a more unhappy woman in my life. She was a nice gal but she was fuckin’ miserable with my brother. Eventually it got so bad that she up and left. Didn’t even take Amy with her, that’s how bad things were,” he explained.

Your eyes widened at the thought. You’d always been told that the bond between mama wolves and their pups was unmatched, running deeper than even the lowest depth of the sea. For one to just up and leave her baby was unheard of. It made you shudder to think just how terrible things must have been to push Rebecca away like that.

You shook your head. “Poor Amy.”

Rhett hummed in agreement. “Her mama’s been gone a year now. She’s adapted okay, but she seems kinda lonely. Kids at school can’t relate to her because they ain’t wolves like she is.”

“I guess it really was fate that brought us here then, huh? All my little cousins will befriend her, she won’t have to worry about feeling as alone anymore.”

He smiled softly, glancing at you. “Sure am thankful to that Fate fella. I’ll have to thank him if I ever meet him face to face. Thank him for bringin’ you to me.”

It was your turn to smile, and you turned your face away, hiding the shy glimmer that lit up your eyes. But Rhett reached out, hooking his fingers under your chin and turning your face back toward him. “I know we’ve got some more formalities to go through before we’re joined together, but I want you to know that right here, right now, I’m pledgin’ myself to you and only you for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply again, letting his intoxicating scent wash over you once more. “And I pledge myself to you,” you replied.

Your gaze remained fixed on his own, and his hand shifted, moving to cup your cheek. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back up to your own eyes, as if asking permission. You gave the tiniest of nods, and he leaned in, so close you could almost taste him.

Until, suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded through the woods. You broke apart abruptly, and Rhett sighed, rising to his feet. “That would be my mama.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Guess we should head back then.”

And so you did, walking hand in hand back to the house. You knew from that moment on that everything was about the change. You would soon begin the ritual of preparing for your wedding, a formality in which your packs would be joined together through your matrimony. Everything you had been dreaming of for your entire life was finally coming true, and it all felt so close, yet so far.

That night, after you bid goodnight to Rhett, you went to bed with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. You fell asleep dreaming of the life you would lead together. A future that held many unspoken promises. A home of your own. A growing family that would carry on your bloodline, one of the greatest honors that could be bestowed upon a wolf.

In the following weeks, much preparation was made. You began the process of getting to know Rhett, spending many nights going on walks, learning the inner workings of one another. And then came the week just before your wedding. A night on which the moon hung low and full-bellied in the sky. The night you shifted beneath the glow of that very moon, sharing the very special and intimate moment of transforming into your wolves.

Rhett’s wolf was deep brown, almost black, with the softest fur you’d ever felt. He was breathtaking, and as you shifted into your own wolf, you found yourself nuzzling into him, letting him know you were there, that you were with him until death did you part.

And then, finally, your wedding day arrived. It was a beautifully warm day. The sun filtered through the trees and cast dapples of light all over, like rays of magic falling from the sky. You’d kept things simple, as wolf weddings normally were. A crown of flowers placed delicately upon your head. A simple, flowing dress. Bare feet so you could feel the forest floor beneath you.

You stood before Rhett, underneath the swaying leaves of a century-old weeping willow, where you spoke your vows to one another, and joined yourselves, and your packs, as one.

As you pledged yourself to your mate, you wept tears of joy, and when he kissed you, so tenderly and reverently, you held onto him tightly, as if he might disappear if you let go. Now that you’d found him, you never wanted to let him go.

“I’m yours,” he whispered against your mouth.

“Forever,” you echoed.

The celebration that followed was grand. Music and dancing, old folk tales told around a bonfire whose flames seemed to touch the very sky. It was the most wonderful night of your life, and nothing could steal your immense joy away.

And so, your life together began. Your union brought your families together, and gave the Abbotts a sense of community that they had not previously had. Just as you’d hoped, Amy made friends with the young ones in your pack. Your parents developed a strong connection with Royal and Cecelia. The rest of your family was warm and welcoming.

As you became integrated with the Abbotts, you made the decision to live on their property. Before you’d even met, Rhett had been in the process of converting the old barn loft into an apartment. It soon became a project that you worked to complete together. A home built with love, filled with love.

Through that process, while you waited for the apartment to become livable, you took up residence in Rhett’s childhood bedroom. It was small, but it was comfortable, and it smelled like him, your favorite scent in the whole wide world, so you were content.

Living in the house allowed you to grow closer to his mother, and especially to his niece Amy. Your heart ached for the little girl and all that she had been through. You longed to be a comfort to her if she needed it. And much to your utter joy, she took well to you.

“I’m happy you’re mated to Uncle Rhett,” she told you in earnest. “I’ve never seen him smile so much before. I can tell he really loves you.”

Her words made your heart warm in your chest. “I’m happy, too,” you replied.

The girl’s face fell a little as she looked down at the napkins she was folding for the dinner table. “I wish my mama and daddy had looked at each other like that.”

And in an instant, your heart was breaking in your chest.

The absence of Rebecca Abbott weighed heavily on the entire family. Cecelia still held out hope that she would return. Royal liked to claim that she’d gone and “shacked up with a good-for-nothin’ lowlife.” Perry liked to insist she was going to come back any day and beg for his forgiveness.

Rhett believed otherwise. “I don’t think she’d ever come back here in a million years. Either she found another pack, or she’s out there still runnin’ around as an omega,” he told you.

Rhett’s belief that she wasn’t coming back, and Perry’s insistence that she was, often caused tension between the brothers. They both tried to remain civil for Amy’s sake, but it seemed that Perry was only growing more restless as time went on.

He would get especially agitated just before the full moon. Which was natural for any wolf, but with him, it seemed to increase tenfold. And when his anger and bitterness reached its breaking point, he would take it out on whoever was in his path. Usually, it was Rhett.

You would never forget the first time you witnessed him blow up at your husband in front of you. There was one thing you were certain of in that very moment: it was going to be the last time he ever did it.

A perfectly quiet family dinner in the Abbott kitchen was disrupted when the conversation turned to Rebecca. It was Perry who brought her up, claiming that he was certain she would return soon, that he could feel it.

It was very common for wolves to be able to feel when their mate was near. You always felt Rhett’s presence when you were apart, and it was that much stronger when you were together.

However, you and Rhett both knew what utter bullshit it was for Perry to claim he could feel her when they weren’t even mates to begin with. And his comment pushed Rhett to react.

“Quit sayin’ she’s gonna come back. You and I both know she won’t ever come back here again, Per.” The moment he said it, Rhett wished he could take the words back. Not because of his brother, but because of Amy.

Her wide eyes flickered up from the plate that she’d been staring at. But instead of looking at Rhett, she looked at her father.

“Is that true, Dad?” She asked, her voice small.

Perry clenched his jaw as he glared at his brother. “Now look what you did. Got my daughter all upset.”

Rhett sighed. The child needed to hear the truth. “Look, Ames. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Your mama isn’t coming back.”

Without so much as a warning, Perry shoved his plate away, which bumped his glass of water and sent it spilling across the table. You tensed beside Rhett, afraid of what was coming.

“Perry!” Cecelia exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at her son’s outburst.

He stood up from his chair, its wooden legs scraping against the linoleum. “What’d I fuckin’ tell you, Rhett? You’re really gonna upset a little girl like that and rip away the last shred of hope she had left?”

Rhett sighed deeply, shaking his head. “It’s better than you lyin’ to her about it.”

“Fuck you!” He shouted. “Ever since you brought this bitch into our home you’ve been subscribing to her fuckin’ ideals.” He motioned toward you. “She probably put you up to this, didn’t she? Told you to destroy what hope my daughter had left.”

At the derogatory comment directed at you, Rhett shot out of his seat, quick as lightning, his eyes glowing. You followed suit, immediately on the defensive.

“Alright, enough!” Royal barked. But even his authoritative tone didn’t get the attention of his boys.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”

“It’s true! She’s fuckin’ changed you, man. Turned you into someone I don’t even recognize.”

“Yeah, she changed me! Into a better man! Which is more than I can say Rebecca ever did for you! Oh wait, that’s because she wasn’t even your mate to begin with!”

“Stop!” Amy cried, already in tears. “Just stop!”

But it was too late. Perry had been pushed over the edge, and before anyone could even register what was happening, he was lunging. Cecelia tried to grab him, but he was too quick, and in seconds, he was crowding Rhett’s space.

But he didn’t get very far. Much to your own surprise, you moved faster than you ever had in your life, placing yourself in front of your husband. Your body burned with the overwhelming desire to protect. Your eyes flashed yellow, and you bared your fangs, growling lowly.

“Touch him and I’ll drop you right where you stand,” you snarled.

Perry growled right back at you, his eyes going bright yellow to match your own. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he made another move toward Rhett, you would go for his throat.

“Dad, stop,” Amy spoke up. She got up from the table and ran to stand between you both. She let out a little growl of her own, entirely non-threatening, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to see her family fighting. “Please. Everyone just stop! I don’t want you to fight!”

“Listen to your daughter, Perry,” you spoke out. You could feel Rhett against your back, ready to act if need be.

A beat passed. You held Perry’s gaze, unwilling to back down. Another beat. Then, finally, he surrendered, stepping back. He knew it wasn’t worth it. It was suicide to go up against another wolf’s mate. When it came to protecting what was yours you would fight to the death. Perry seemed to know he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He had no idea what it was like. He’d never experienced that deep, primal, territorial need to protect. Not with Rebecca. He had it with Amy, but that was different. She was his child, it was natural to protect her. But he had no idea how deep the bonds of two truly mated wolves went. He couldn’t bond with Rebecca in that way because she’d never been his to begin with.

Rather than fight a losing fight, Perry stalked away that night, leaving the rest of you in the kitchen to process what had just happened. And Amy, who remained in front of you until her father disappeared from the room, finally turned, and rushed into your arms.

Your heart broke as she began to cry. “I’m sorry!” She whimpered, apologizing for her father’s behavior.

It only made you angry, because it wasn’t fair that this 9-year-old little one had to apologize for him. You hated all she had been subjected to in her young age. And that was the moment you pledged to always look out for her. If her mama wasn’t going to do it, then you would. And you would do a damn good job of it, too.

After that night, Perry steered clear of you. He seemed to realize that if he were to ever challenge you, you would kill him. No hesitation. He didn’t stand a chance. Rhett knew that you had his back, and you would always stand by him, even when faced with adversity brought upon him by his own family.

That protectiveness was a two-way street. Rhett looked out for you just as fiercely as you did him. And while you were busy defending him against his brother, he was going to bat for you against other things. You would never forget the first time you saw him physically defend you. It was seared into your mind like a brand.

You were out on a hike with Amy. It was blackberry season, and she was desperate to pick them while they were perfectly ripe. Her grandmother was too busy with other gardening endeavors to go out into the woods to help her pick wild ones, so you offered to go instead.

Before the heat of the day grew too overwhelming, the two of you set off, with you leaving a kiss against Rhett’s lips and a promise that you’d be back in time to join him for lunch later that day. Amy was so excited, babbling excitedly the entire hike up into the woods.

She was fascinated by all things nature, and she knew the area like the back of her hand, so she was well aware of where the very best berries grew. She led you deeper and deeper into the woods until you came upon an entire gathering of sprawling blackberry bushes, ripe for the picking.

“See? I told ya!” She excitedly said, running on ahead of you, her tin bucket swinging in her hands.

You couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness, quickening your steps so you could catch up with her. What followed was an hour-long blackberry picking process, and after the fact, that bucket was full to the brim with ripe, juicy berries.

“Grandma’s gonna be so happy! She can make her blackberry preserves! And blackberry pie! And blackberry syrup for pancakes!” She spoke a mile a minute, informing you of all the ways the berries could be used, and how she couldn’t wait for you to try them all.

However, you found yourself growing distracted when the wind carried a strange scent in your direction. You paused, lifting your head and breathing in deep. Something didn’t feel right. Amy noticed this, and she eyed you curiously.

“What’s wrong?”

“I smell something,” you replied. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end.

Amy turned, sniffing at the air. Then, suddenly, she gasped. “Cougar,” she said.

You glanced around. You couldn’t see it, but you could tell the animal was close. You’d never had an encounter with a cougar. While you knew you could hold your own against an animal like that, having Amy in tow only made you nervous that the cougar would try to harm her. Surely it would be able to sense that you were wolves and not normal human beings. But maybe that would only make things worse.

You wrapped your arm around Amy’s shoulders. “Let’s just go. Maybe it’ll leave us alone.”

But no sooner had you spoken than you heard a bone-chilling growl, and you turned, catching sight of a large cat just ahead of you. Your blood turned to ice in your veins, and on instinct, you pushed Amy behind you, keeping a hand on her as you slowly backed away.

You locked eyes with the cougar, flashing your golden irises, hoping that would be a deterrent. However, the cat only bared its fangs and crouched back on its haunches. Your heart began to hammer in your chest. There was no time to hesitate.

“The second he jumps, I want you to run,” you told Amy.

“But I don’t wanna leave you!” She exclaimed, trembling with fear.

“You can’t shift yet. You’re safer running than you are staying here with me,” you emphasized. Amy was just a baby, her wolf hadn’t even made its appearance yet, and even if it had, it would only be a pup. Not strong enough to fight a fully grown cougar.

“But-” she never had a chance to finish the sentence, because in a flash, the cat was lunging at you. Amy let out a shrill scream that carried through the trees.

On the Abbott ranch, Rhett’s head snapped up when he heard the scream. He had been hard at work trying to finish up the project of converting the old barn, but at the sound of his niece’s shriek, he dropped the tools he was holding.

A shock of what felt like electricity rippled through him, and he grunted, realizing that you were in danger. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was running, hyper-focused on the area that the sound had come from. As he ran, his body shifted and transformed, until, moments later, he was no longer a man, but a sleek, black wolf, running fast as the wind.

In the woods, you were preparing to fight for your life. You physically tossed Amy out of the way so that when the cat landed, it would hit you instead of her. You didn’t even have time to shift into your wolf. Or, rather, white-hot terror blossomed within you when you realized you couldn’t shift.

Your fangs had elongated and your claws had come out, but your body remained in its human form. And when you realized this, it was too late. 200 pounds of muscle crashed into your chest, sending you back toward the forest floor.

You screamed, growling as threateningly as possible, but it didn’t seem to do much to scare the animal. You thought for certain that this was it, that you were going to die right then and there. But then, in a flash of black fur glinting in the sunlight, an earth-rattling roar ripped through the air, and in a split second, the cat was no longer on top of you.

Gasping sharply, you sat up, eyes wild as you took in the sight before you. There was Rhett in his wolf form, and he had the cougar by the neck. Beside you, Amy let out a sob as she scrambled toward you. You grabbed her, wrapping your arms protectively around her, turning her face away so she wouldn’t have to watch.

The cat snarled and hissed, clawing at Rhett’s wolf, and it caught him on the side, at which he let out an agonized yelp that made you flinch. But he quickly regained dominance and in seconds, the cat let out an inhuman screech and quickly scrambled away from the wolf, turning to hiss once more before running off, wounded, into the woods, clearly realizing it was not going to win this fight.

Rhett followed after it to make sure it was long gone. In the meantime, Amy was crying against your chest. “Is it gone?!” She whimpered.

You ran your fingers through her honey-colored hair, soothing her softly, even as your own body still trembled with fear. “Yes, baby. It’s gone.”

She sat upright, glancing around. “Where’s Uncle Rhett?!” Her voice was panicked, terrified.

But you didn’t have to reassure her, for seconds later, the wolf returned. Amy scrambled to her feet and ran to him, falling to her knees as she threw her arms around his neck. The wolf whined lowly as he nuzzled against the girl, sniffing at her to make sure she was unharmed.

As you approached, he locked eyes with you, and you knelt beside Amy, reaching out to run your hand over his fur. You could tell he was hurt. The slash in his side from the cougar’s claws was bleeding crimson. But he wouldn’t rest until he saw you both to safety.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and he rested his head upon your shoulder before he finally pulled away. He pointed his head toward the trail home, wanting you to follow, and so you did. Amy gathered up her half-spilled bucket of berries, grabbed onto your hand, and followed Rhett’s wolf out of the woods and back toward the house.

It was only after he made sure that you and Amy were safely returned home that he allowed himself to shift back to his human form. As Cecelia fussed over Amy, Rhett trotted after you into his bedroom upstairs, and as soon as the door was shut, his fur faded away, giving way to pale, smooth skin. Within moments, there was your husband kneeling bare before you, all signs of his animal form gone.

“Baby,” you breathed, falling to your knees in front of him, reaching your hands up to hold his face. “You’re hurt.” The claw marks along his ribs looked even worse in his human form.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ll heal,” he replied. Then it was his turn to check you over for any harm. “Did that son’bitch hurt you?”

“I…I don’t think so. Just scared me, is all. I couldn’t shift, and by the time I realized that, it was on top of me.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed as he frowned, large hands coming up to rest against either side of your neck. “It’s ‘cause you were scared,” he whispered. “It’s happened to me before. I froze up, got so fuckin’ into my head that my wolf didn’t wanna come out.”

“Really?” You asked, a little relieved that you weren’t alone.

“Yeah. She’ll come out again, don’t you worry.”

You hummed in understanding, happy that Rhett knew exactly what you were dealing with, and that it was nothing to worry about. Then, the time for realization kicked in. The realization that it all could have been so much worse, and you were lucky that Rhett stepped in when he did.

“Thank you,” you whispered, after you’d both finally stood, allowing Rhett to gather a clean set of clothes. “I feel so fucking useless, not being able to protect Amy the way I needed to. I hate that I froze up. I’m just so relieved you heard us and got to us in time.”

Rhett shook his head, stepping toward you as he finished pulling on his jeans. String fingers tilted your chin up. “You did your best in a fuckin’ scary situation. Hell, you were ready to sacrifice yourself so Amy would be safe. That’s not you bein’ useless. You protected her just like any mama wolf would protect her pup.”

His words brought unexpected tears to your eyes. When he saw them glimmering along your lash line, he smiled softly, thumb stroking over your cheek. “You did good, little wolf.”

The nickname, which he’d dubbed you after the first few weeks of knowing you, made you smile, despite the tears running down your cheeks.

After that encounter, it seemed that your bond only deepened. You grew even closer than before, your hearts knit together by an unbreakable invisible force. And as your love blossomed and flourished, you crossed the threshold of new milestones together.

One of those milestones was finally moving into the old barn that you’d been renovating together. It had gone from a barebones wooden shell to a cozy home with room for your family to grow. It allowed you to still remain near the rest of your combined pack, but also gave you a haven of privacy. Gone were the days of sharing his childhood bedroom and trying to stay quiet while in a house full of wolves with keen hearing. Now you had your own space to do whatever you pleased together.

Although moving into your own space was a very big milestone for you, it was nothing compared to what was coming your way.

There was a very special and celebrated time that took place between werewolf couples. Much like regular wolves, werewolves had a mating season. The first season shared between mates was pivotal in their relationship.

You and Rhett had yet to experience that season yet. On your own, you had endured heats before. It was only a natural occurrence. But you had heard that the heat you experienced on your own was nothing compared to that first one you would experience with your mate.

Secretly, in your own mind, you had fantasized about what it might be like. You were already insatiable enough as it was during heat. The thought of it being increased tenfold was unimaginable for you.

You knew the pattern of your cycle. It was easy to follow. You would enter into heat twice a year. Once in the springtime, and once in autumn. Each time it would last around 7 to 14 days.

Your marriage to Rhett took place in early summertime. Which meant, along with the changing of leaves and the cooling of the air, you would soon be entering into that heat stage. You knew it was coming. It was marked in red on your calendar.

You were nervous, to say the least. While you were eager to experience it with him, it was all so new. Sex was not a foreign concept between the two of you. You’d had it plenty of times since your marriage. But this was different. This was a primal, instinctual ritual. One that could potentially result in your bloodline being continued.

You were entirely unprepared for just how intense it would be. As the season turned, your body prepared itself for another cycle. It started subtly at first, but soon grew into so much more.

Possessiveness and protectiveness over your mate was the first thing you noticed, increased even more so than usual. That possessive streak reared its ugly head when an unsuspecting human girl tried to flirt with Rhett. You found yourself pulling him against your side and quite literally growling at her. It was not your proudest moment, but you could not control the wolf inside you. She did what she wanted.

The protectiveness came when anyone disrespected him. It didn’t matter who. Although Perry generally tried to steer clear of running his mouth at Rhett in your presence, there were times when he slipped up. And this time around, you found yourself with your claws at his throat when he made a comment under his breath.

“Say it again,” you hissed, baring your sharp canines. “Go on, say it!”

It took both Rhett and Royal to pull you off of him. That instance, however, you were not sorry for. You would never be ashamed of defending your husband.

Soon, the irritability and possessiveness melted away into something else. Your every sense was heightened. Your already keen wolf senses were increased to the point where you could hardly even bear it.

And then came the desire.

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for how all-consuming it would be. It hit you like a freight train, slamming into your body and sending you into orbit. It started as a dull ache that very quickly began to spread throughout your body.

The first day you woke up with it, you were animalistic. It drove you out of your slumber and sent you shooting upright in bed, growling as you pressed your hands against your lower abdomen, where the ache had settled.

Much to your utter dismay, Rhett was not in bed beside you. He was more than aware about your approaching heat, and he tried to spend as much time with you as he could. But that morning, his father had called him out of bed at an ungodly hour to handle an issue with an injured calf. That took him away from you, and when you discovered he was gone, you let out a pained yowl, curling into a ball.

“Rhett!” You desperately cried out, hoping he was still nearby. But you were met with no answer.

Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, and you gasped sharply, placing a hand over your mouth when you realized that your need had soaked straight through the panties you’d worn to bed. They weren’t just damp. They were drenched.

When you stood, your knees almost buckled, and your hand shot out to steady yourself against the bedpost. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. You had never in your life felt such a sensation.

It was an ache so strong that there were no words to describe it. An agony that was not quite painful, but maddening nonetheless. And there was only one way to soothe it. Rhett was the only one capable of easing the burning fire. The only one who could act as a soothing salve. But he was nowhere to be found.

How could he just leave? In your agitated state it only served to upset you all the more. He knew you were coming up on your heat. He knew you needed him. How could he leave you all alone to deal with it?

Of course, he hadn’t done it on purpose. That morning when he’d woken before the sun, he could smell you. Your scent had increased, its spicy sweetness making his head spin. But he knew how Royal would get if he refused to help his father with the issue at hand, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the man’s contrariness.

Leaving you in bed that morning had been incredibly difficult. But he left with the hope that this project wouldn’t take long, and he’d be back with you before you ever woke up.

But that was four hours ago, and he was still dealing with an injured calf, a distressed mama cow, and one irritated Royal Abbott. The situation had given Rhett a distraction, but back at home, you had none.

You swiped your phone off of your nightstand with the intent of calling him to see where he was. However, when you dialed, you were alerted to the sound of ringing coming from his own nightstand. He’d left his phone at home.

You growled in frustration, tossing your phone onto the bed, just as another surge of molten need vibrated through you, sending you to your knees. Your body trembled, and the intensity was so great that you could feel yourself beginning to shift.

Your claws lengthened from your fingers, ripping shreds into the side of the duvet as you held onto the mattress for support. You felt out of control, and it was a scary feeling. You hadn’t felt this way since your first full moon, and even that wasn’t comparable to how intense it was now.

The full moon didn’t leave an agonizing ache in your cunt like this. No, this was solely the result of your body’s natural drive to mate. But how on earth were you meant to do that if the one you were mated to wasn’t even here?

Tears welled in your eyes, and you forced yourself to rage deep, ragged breaths. Maybe if you could just get to the bathroom, you could put yourself under a cold shower and hopefully snap yourself out of this feverish state.

You stood on unsteady legs and stumbled toward the steps, which you rushed down until you made it to the main floor area below the loft. You burst into the bathroom and immediately turned on the shower to a cold spray, stripping out of your shirt and panties and jumping in.

You hissed as the chilly water enveloped you, cascading down your heated skin. It provided a small amount of relief, but it didn’t take the discomfort away completely.

You knew that you couldn’t relieve the ache yourself, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You reached a trembling hand between your thighs, running your fingers over your center, your legs nearly giving out as you brushed against your swollen, thrumming clit.

You let out a sharp whimper and jolted forward. You tried to soothe your need to be filled by using your fingers, but they were nothing compared to Rhett. His fingers, his cock. They didn’t reach that spot inside you that made you see stars. You were left feeling unsatisfied and even needier than before.

In frustration, you leaned back against the shower walls squeezing your eyes shut and trying to steady your breathing. You imagined this was how wolves felt in the wild. You hardly felt like you could exercise your human control anymore. You’d heard of werewolves shifting permanently into their wolf bodies and giving in to their wild nature. It didn’t seem that far-fetched that it could happen to you.

In the midst of your plight, Rhett had just looked at the sky and realized that the sun’s placement must mean it was nearly 10 o’clock in the morning. His eyes widened. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he’d left early that morning, but it had been almost five hours. He knew you were awake by now, and probably desperate as all get out.

He patted his jeans for his phone, but found his pockets empty. And then he remembered, he’d accidentally left it behind that morning. “Shit,” he cursed. He snatched up his Carhartt jacket that he had draped over one of the stall doors. “Dad, I gotta go,” he called out to his father.

“Hang on,” Royal replied, but Rhett shook his head, already halfway out the barn door.

“M’ wife needs me, I gotta get back. Ask Per for help if you need it.” And then he was gone, scrambling out into the cool October morning. His mind was spinning as he pictured you home alone. You were likely at your wit's end.

Sure enough, when he finally made it to the house, it was your scent that nearly knocked him flat on his ass as he walked through the door. He grunted as if he’d been kicked in the gut, stumbling back against the wooden door.

His every sense was overwhelmed by you. Deep, spicy, sweet. Irresistible and divine, all at once. His heart rate began to quicken in his chest, and he gasped as he straightened, hastily kicking his boots off by the door. “Little wolf?!” He called out.

At the sound of his voice, a sob of relief tore from you. You had just climbed out of your cold shower, towel wrapped around your body. “Rhett!” You wailed, your voice coming out as a desperate, animalistic yowl.

He knew exactly where you were, he could hear the pounding of your heart, the shallowness of your breath. He was drawn straight to you like a moth to flame, and within seconds, he was at the bathroom door, just as you flung it open.

“Rhett!” You wailed again, throwing yourself into his arms as sobs wracked your body. “Wh-where were yo-you?! I needed you and you were gone! Why did you leave me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. Dad needed help and I didn’t think I’d be gone that long, but that was five fuckin’ hours ago. I’m sorry.”

You clutched at his shirt, and he gasped when he heard a rip, only to find that your claws had torn through the fabric of his flannel. “Shit, okay, hold on,” he told you, pulling you back to look fully into your face. Your skin was damp, but it wasn’t from the shower you’d just taken. You were sweaty but also hot to the touch, as if you had a high fever.

Your eyes were glowing gold, and through your parted lips he could see your fangs. And oh, how you trembled. So much so that he had to hold you steady so you didn’t fall. “Please,” you whimpered, “it hurts so bad, please, I-I can’t take it anymore! I feel like I’m on fucking fire!”

Rhett was overwhelmed. You smelled so good, like the natural scent that had drawn him to you when you first became mates. But there was something else, something that could only be described as sex. It felt like it was altering his very brain chemistry.

Then he growled, deep and low in his throat, and pressed his nose to your neck, breathing in deep before he began trailing lower, in search of the source. He ripped your towel away from your body and nuzzled at you until he finally stopped between your thighs, pressing his nose against your cunt and inhaling.

You gazed down at him, and his own eyes flashed yellow to match yours. Possessively, he nipped at your inner thigh. “I’m here now, little wolf,” he assured you, “I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you sobbed, “I can’t…I don’t know if I can…” but the words died in your throat.

He straightened back up, leaning in to kiss you deeply as he quickly shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it aside before you reached for his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but quickly growing tearful and frustrated. He shushed you with another kiss and unbuckled the belt himself, shoving his jeans and underwear down his legs all at once, freeing his already hardening cock.

As soon as you saw it, you mewled, dropping to your knees and rubbing your face against the velvety skin. Rhett grunted, his head spinning at the sight of you nuzzling your cheek against his dick. You were so far gone, and it was dizzying to him.

“Need it so bad,” you whined, kitten licking the tip as the shaft hardened. “Need it so deep inside me.”

“I’m gonna give it to you, promise,” he rasped. Then he hauled you to your feet, with the intention of pulling you up to your bedroom in the loft, but you never made it. You couldn’t wait another second, and in a flurry of desperation, you grabbed onto him, tugging him hard and sending you both to the floor.

He landed on his back as you climbed on top of him, but in true wolf fashion, he snarled, wrestling you until you were the one lying on your back on the floor. In this way, he showed his dominance over you, securing his right to be your mate.

“Gettin’ big for your britches, little wolf,” he muttered as he ran his nose over your flesh, inhaling you. You had very quickly turned to putty in his hands, especially when you felt his cock against your inner thigh.

“Need it! I need it, please! Please, please, please!” You wept, entirely forgetting your little fight for dominance that had taken place moments earlier. The ache between your legs had increased all the more. A throbbing, burning, crushing ache that made you feel like you were suffocating, as if you’d die if you didn’t become one with him in the next few seconds.

Rhett looked down and he saw why you were so desperate. Your cunt was puffy, and with the sunlight that was streaming in through the windows, he could see how wet it was. You’d only been on the floor for a few moments but your arousal had already dripped down onto the hardwood. “Oh my god,” he whispered in amazement.

He couldn’t contain himself if he tried. He placed his hands on the floor, at either side of your head, and nudged his hips forward. When you felt the blunt head of his cock against you, you whimpered. It burned, it burned, it burned. Until, suddenly…

“Oh!” He was inside you in one fluid motion. Every last inch of him, filling you to the brim, fitting inside you like he was created to. Because he was. You were two unique souls made perfectly for each other.

“I’ve got ya, sweet baby. I’ve got ya,” he assured you as you whimpered and whined at the fullness.

And suddenly, all at once, that terrible, gnawing ache began to fade. It felt like a healing salve to a grave wound. You gasped, your eyes widening as you gazed up at your husband. “Rhett,” you squeaked.

“I know.”

Tears filled your eyes as you finally felt relief for the first time that day. Those same tears began to track down the sides of your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathless sob. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and clung to him as he began to slowly move.

With each push and pull of his cock within you, your body reacted accordingly, providing you with even more lubricant until he was moaning, gasping at the feeling. “Shit, darlin’, you’re dribblin’ all over me.”

“S-sorry,” you peeped, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ca-can’t help it. Feels too good. Feels…oh, feels so fucking…good…”

You threw your head back as he built a rhythm, slow at first, but the pace soon quickened. Back and forth, faster and faster, until it could only be described as rutting. You felt so fucking full, and he kept you that way, barely pulling his hips back, instead fucking you in a pulsing motion. It was too much and not enough. You started to grow desperate again. The ache was gone, but it had been replaced with molten heat, as if your insides were melting.

“Harder, harder, harder!” You cried out.

He obliged, grunting laboriously as he drove into you harder. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he plunged his cock into you repeatedly. The sounds escaping both of you were animalistic. Growls and snarls and hisses, the wild animals caged within you trying to claw their way to the surface.

He was so deep inside you, every ridge and vein of his cock creating such divine friction within you that it felt like you were being burned alive in the most wonderful, indescribable way.

Your claws dug into the tender flesh of his back, and he gnarled, snapping his teeth at you, but not in a threatening way. He nuzzled into your neck, the sharp tips of those fangs pressing against your pulse point, and you whined, leaning into the pleasurable pain.

His teeth drew blood, and as soon as the crimson blossomed against your skin, he used his tongue to soothe over it, licking up your lifeblood. The bite mark healed quickly, as injuries normally did, but you could still feel the sting even after it was gone.

And then, something else happened. It was common for werewolves to shift partially, where their eyes, fangs, and claws became visible. But it was also common for them to grow a little in stature, too.

You could feel it. His muscles rippled beneath your touch, expanding. His shoulders grew broader. And something else, grew, too. When you felt it, you let out a wolfish yip, jolting against him as his cock swelled within your cunt.

“R-Rhett,” you squeaked, and he shushed you, kissing you languidly.

“You’re okay, little wolf. Feels good, don’t it?”

You managed to nod despite yourself. Your tears kept falling and they wouldn’t stop. But they weren’t tears of pain. Quite the contrary. It didn’t matter that he was growing inside you. Your body was designed to accommodate it. The feeling was incredibly pleasurable, and it sent an intense shudder through your body.

You screwed your eyes shut and mewled as he kept rutting into you, stretching you, filling you, completing you. This felt right. This felt good. This felt like the most natural thing in the world. And it was. Your bodies were joined as one. One force, one soul, one heart.

“You feel so good,” you repeated yourself, unashamed of the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “So good, so good, so good.”

His hips quickened within you. His hands remained at either side of your head, and you could hear his claws gouging into the hardwood. He’d be pissed about that mark later, but right now, he couldn’t be bothered to care. Nothing else mattered but this. Fulfilling this natural, primal, raw desire to claim, and be claimed.

The intensity mounted, like a kettle beginning to boil. You held onto him so tightly, encouraging him to go deeper, faster, harder. And he did, until it felt like he was fucking you into the floor.

He leaned back to watch you, admiring the way your eyes rolled back in your head, the way you shuddered so powerfully, as if you’d just been struck with a bolt of lightning. It felt like you had, because each nudge of his cock in your slick walls sent sparks surging through your core.

His eyes flickered further down, to the place where your bodies met. Where your cunt clasped him in a vice grip. “Takin’ me so well,” he gruffed, at which you whimpered. Then, you felt his big, warm hand splaying against your lower abdomen. “Gon’ fill you up, little wolf.”

“Please,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?” He leaned in close, and you opened your eyes, finding golden irises gazing back at you. “Yeah? Want me to get you full of me? Take all my seed like you were made to?”

You cried out, jolting against you when he thrust forward particularly hard, sending your body vibrating with ecstasy. “Need it so bad!” You practically shrieked.

“I’ll give it all to you. Get this pretty tummy nice an’ round. Full of my pups.”

At his words, your entire world tilted on its axis. Your brain went blank with white-hot pleasure. All you knew was “yes, yes, yes!” That was what you wanted. That was what your body was begging for. To mate. To be bred.

Rhett kissed you again, swallowing your babbled pleas. You felt as if you were not of your body. Like you were floating over yourself, watching your husband fuck you. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Your body shook and shivered. Your eyes rolled back in your skull. You couldn’t speak. You could hardly breathe. It was immeasurable. Indescribable. You were certain you were going to pass out from the ecstasy. It surged through you from head to toe, sizzling and sparking, illuminating the very edges of your soul, sending you into orbit.

You swore you did black out for a moment. How was it possible that something could feel this good? You had experienced all-consuming pleasure before, multiple times. Rhett was a generous lover who always made you see stars when he fucked you. But this was different. This was mind-bending, soul-shattering, earth-shaking.

You didn’t realize you were repeatedly chanting his name. It left your lips like a prayer, breathlessly whispered up to the heavens. He spoke to you, but you couldn’t hear him. You were deafened by searing pleasure, ringing in your ears, rattling your very bones to their marrow.

You barely registered his mouth at your neck again, teeth nipping into tender flesh. All you knew was that you were existing on an otherworldly plane. And then you felt it. That flame that had been burning inside you was growing. Hotter, bigger, more intense.

Rhett could feel it. You were trembling uncontrollably, body convulsing as if you’d been struck by raw electricity. Your cunt kept pulsing around him, tightening so intensely that he almost struggled to move within you.

“Let go,” he rasped, knowing that he, too, was nearing his end. He could feel it, crackling to life at the base of his spine, thrumming within his heavy, aching balls. He was driven by his need to fill you with his very essence.

“I-I’m c-co-” but you couldn’t speak. The words wouldn’t come. They were impossible. So you simply cried and wailed beneath him, so certain you were about to burst into flames, reduced to nothing but ash.

But you didn’t burst into a fiery inferno. Instead, every nerve, every neuron, every atom of your body was consumed with something you could never, ever describe with mere mortal words.

Your eyes went wide as you locked your gaze with Rhett’s. Mouth open, chest pressing into his as you jerked forward. And then it hit you. Hard, deep, stretching over every inch of your body. You let out a carnal howl, which surely echoed for miles outside of your home.

You fell apart around your husband’s cock, keening, sobbing, consumed by blazing euphoria. You felt as if you were part of the universe, an explosion of blazing stars, scattered brilliantly across the universe in a blinding, breathtaking array.

You thought it would end, but it didn’t. Your eyes flew open when you realized you were still coming. “Rhett!” You shrieked. “I-I c-ca-can’t stop!”

His mouth fell open as he gasped sharply, grunting as your body continued to undulate beneath him. But he couldn’t reply, for suddenly, he was overcome. His own release rushed through him in an overwhelming surge, and his grunt turned into a yowl. The heat of his release flooded the very core of your being, filling you until it spilled out around the edges of his cock, dripping down to the floor beneath you.

It took what felt like an eternity for you both to come back to yourselves. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but once Rhett regained feeling in his extremities, he gingerly lifted himself from where his body had fallen against your own.

His eyes were back to their familiar human blue, so brilliant and comforting all at once. His face was soft with concern, and he lifted his hand to gently stroke your tear-dampened cheek. “Y’ okay, little wolf?” He asked.

You couldn’t find your voice, so you simply nodded, sniffling softly. He soothed you, leaning in close to kiss you deeply. “That was…fuck, that was a lot,” he continued on.

“I-I know,” you whispered, barely audible.

Gently, he eased his cock out of you, and you let out a heartbreaking cry at the emptiness. One that he soothed with another kiss. He brought his hand down between your legs, cupping your dripping cunt, soothing any pain he might’ve caused. But you weren’t in pain. Far from it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Got a call from Dad this mornin’ about a calf that got hurt, had to go deal with that and it took all fuckin’ mornin’, and by the time I realized what time it was, it was too late. I know I shouldn't ‘ve left you all alone like that, and I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It’s okay. When I was crying at you about it I…I don’t think I was in my right mind. I’ve never felt like that in my entire life. Felt like I could crawl out of my own skin. Hurt so bad, I needed you somethin’ fierce. I’ve had heats before but nothing could ever compare to this.”

Rhett hummed, lifting his own hand to place over the one you’d rested on his cheek. “From now on, I ain’t leavin’ you. Don’t want you goin’ through that alone again. I’ll stay with you until it’s over.”

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

You spent a few more moments on the floor, catching your breath and processing what had just taken place. Rhett glanced at the claw marks he’d left in the hardwood and groaned in annoyance. “Next time you wanna fuck like animals, let’s do it in bed, where I can’t mess up the woodwork I broke my back tryin’ to get perfect,” he grumbled.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Noted,” you said.

You allowed him to help you up off the floor, and he pulled you to him, naked bodies pressed together. His gaze grew serious. “I love you, little wolf. I’m gonna take good care of you while you go through this, alright? Don’t want my darlin’ sufferin’ on my watch.”

You beamed at him and bumped your nose against his. “I know you will. You always do.”

Again, he kissed you, and then he guided you back to the bathroom from whence you’d come. There, you showered together, cleansing yourselves of your previous activities. For the time being, you were sated, and that terrible, gnawing ache was gone. What followed was this strange sort of floating feeling. Your bodies were producing special pheromones which intensified the bonding process immediately following sex.

You felt so connected to Rhett, even more so than you ever had before. It was a little overwhelming. After your shower, you refused to part from one another. You stayed close, curling up in bed for a little rest after such an exhausting morning. Rhett lovingly wrapped you in his embrace, your still bare bodies intertwined.

He traced patterns on your skin with his fingertips and told you all the things he loved about you. He confessed how grateful he was that you were his mate, and how he’d been lost before he met you. You spoke of your future together and what it might entail. Including the little ones you might add to your family if the Fates smiled down upon you.

You connected on an entirely new level, and it only served to knit your hearts closer together. And then, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, cuddled in each other’s embrace.

But your body would soon wake you again, and you would be reacquainted with that all too familiar ache. This time, however, Rhett was with you. You found yourself whimpering, crying for him as you shook him awake.

He remained perfectly calm as he soothed you, kissing you so lovingly as he arranged your body into position. Slowly, steadily, he eased himself into you again, joining your bodies as one.

“You’re okay, little wolf. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

And you knew he would.

tagging (a mix of those already on my taglist/those who might be interested):

@cdauni @gothamrots @happyrebelruins @bobfloydsbabe @myfandomchangesalot @mikpieboo @petersunderoos96 @eighthwvnder @yanna-banana @bradshawsbaby @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @basiccortez @thesluttyarchivist @rhettabbotts @milesmillergf @briseisgone @laluneveillesureux @gohnspants @bobfloyds @wkndwlff @damrlova @withahappyrefrain @michaego

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

Text

son of a preacher man | rhett abbott x reader

disclaimer; this thot popped into my brain this morning as i listened to 'son of a preacher man' by dusty springfield, feel free to listen to it as you read. I myself am agnostic so if there's any inaccuracies-- *shrugs*. both characters are 20.

warnings; religious themes, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, female reader, afab!reader, corruption kink, innocence, dresses mentioned, attempt at masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of sick parent, size kink(?)

summary; rhett abbott, the preacher's son, is the only one who had ever reached a part of you, a part of you you hardly knew yourself.

word count; 4K.

tagging people who might like; @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter

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Spring had come suddenly that year, the meadows waking from their long sleepy absence and blooming slowly with white and pale lavender wildflowers. The sweet fragrance that emanated from the very earth you walked on was intoxicating to you, more than happy to spend long afternoons amongst the meadow wildlife if time allowed it.

More often than not though, there was no time. Your father had fallen ill the past year, and his health had steadily declined as the raw winter chill seeped through the old wood of your house. Mother had needed all the help she needed around the house, with the sweet lambs you had out back, shearing them and spinning yarn from their soft fur.

You’d often work tirelessly at knitting sweaters, little socks and mittens for the church charity, or to sell on market days to help sustain the farm and your fathers medication. Sometimes mother let you knit out on the meadows, but most of the time she wanted you near her.

The one day you steadfastly looked forward to was Sundays. Sundays when the kind Reverend Royal Abbott would make sure to visit your family after Sunday service to read for your mother and your father, as your fathers health no longer allowed him to attend sermons. It was not so much Father Abbotts blessings that brought you feelings of elation and butterflies, no, it was more so the blessing of his youngest son.

It was the one afternoon you were completely free from your mothers watchful eyes, and she always let you wander the meadows with the Abbott boy for as long as you needed - under the impression that the preacher’s son was offering you the lord's word as comfort for the situation that was impending. She always gave you a comforting and sympathetic smile as the younger Abbott took you for a walk through your back lawn, out towards the meadows, pastures and forests adjacent.

You and Rhett Abbott were the same age, and you’d always had such a soft spot for the cerulean eyed boy with longer hair and mischief twinkling in his smile and eyes. You knew his mother Cecelia often reprimanded him, and wished he was more like his older brother Perry who sported short, more respectable hair, and who had already married.

There was something enchanting about him, the way your body and soul always seemed so in tune with him - how when he entered the room, your very being would vibrate with the need to be close to him.

He was everything. Tall, broad, beautiful and kind. You were, according to yourself, rather plain. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he would desire you in any way, until you noticed how he always made a point to accompany his father to your house on Sunday afternoons. In the beginning, he would sit near you as you listened to his fathers preaching.

It was hard to concentrate on the words of the Reverend, when his son was running his strong hands softly across the thin fabric of your white, billowy Sunday dress. When he did it the first time, you’d turned to him in shock, only to be met with a sympathetic look as he opted to let his hand rest on your shoulder. It clicked in your mind then that he was offering you comfort. Taking in your surroundings, you saw your mother in tears at the preacher's words, and you bowed your head - only partly ashamed you’d been too busy taking in the scent and the close proximity of Rhett to fully understand Royal’s gruff voice.

His hand on your shoulder, warmth seeping through the thin and soft fabric of your dress made you inhale the softest of gasps. You wanted to melt into his touch and never leave, but you managed to sit up straight with your hands neatly folded in your lap that Sunday afternoon.

As they left that Sunday, Royal tipped his hat and bid your family farewell, as Rhett gripped your shoulder tightly again and spoke softly;

Everything will be alright.

You could tell Royal was proud of his son, thinking his wilder spouse had finally found the way of the Lord. Perhaps that’s why, as time went on, Rhett would make a point to speak verses of comfort to you when they visited. He kept touching your upper arm and shoulder, once venturing to rest his large palm just above your knee - but the surprised gasp you had let out had been so loud he’d had to pretend to swat away a fly as the elders turned to look at you.

Being good isn’t always easy, you tell yourself that night as you imagine Rhett’s firm touch all over your body, burning sensations flaring when you thought of his palm reaching higher up on your thigh. Your own daintier hand didn’t feel the same as you graced it up your inner thigh, your nightgown bunching around your hips as soft gasps spilled from parted lips, legs falling apart further and further as you thought of Rhett’s tall frame fitting in between them.

Hesitant touches made you writhe in your bed, breaths coming in short gasps, but never truly getting satisfied. No one had ever taught you about your own body, had never told you what sort of feeling you were yearning for when your body burned and ached like this.

A soft, longing, moan of the preacher’s son's name fell from your lips as you brushed against a spot that momentarily satiated the ache, but you lost it in your surprise that overtook you at what had tumbled from your mouth. That night you contemplated your actions, wondering if you were no longer a good girl in the eyes of the Lord. It surprised you that you felt little shame about your actions.

After a whole week of chores, knitting and tending to your little lambs, it was soon Sunday again. You’d opted to wear your Sunday dress again, as you would any Sunday, but you had to admit you spent a little more time with the rest of your appearance. As Father Abbott and his son approached your abode, your mother sang their praises to you, gushing over how kind they were to come to your house personally to make sure your poor father’s soul could be salvaged.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Royal grumbled, taking off his hat and bowing his head before he kept talking “today, my son was wondering if he might have the privilege to preach to your daughter - he has expressed concern for how she might be faring in these dire circumstances.”

Glancing up at your mother, you saw tears glistening in her eyes as she nodded “Of course, Father Abbott, we are so blessed to have you preaching to us who are a bit older - certainly, our daughter would be thankful to have a younger perspective upon her hardships,” she answered for you, and you could only bite your lip to keep your smile at bay.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Rhett spoke, before he revealed what passages he would cover with you today. “Could we perhaps be allowed on the meadow out back?” Rhett continued, eyes flitting between your mother and his father “I find that nature can instill peace along with the Lord’s words,” he elaborated and your mother nodded, tears now glittering on her cheeks.

“My little lamb does love spending her time on the meadow, does it offer you peace my dove?” Your mother doted on you, as if she now at once understood why you were out there. You could only nod mutely, not entirely believing your luck as the elders made room for Rhett to lead you through your back lawn, your arm tucked respectfully in his arm.

Those first times, Rhett did take you for a walk. He would talk in soft, soothing voices, once in a while adding some passages from verses. Mostly, the two of you would talk of other matters too, and getting to know Rhett was exhilarating. He told you of the times he’d snuck out to the rodeo, told you how his friend had snuck him onto a bull that had bucked him off. He told you of the thrill, of how he’d felt so alive.

You looked at him with starry eyes, and he looked at you with soft adoration in his eyes as he told you how he had always found you sweet. Had always looked out for you. Surprised, you gently argued that he had never talked to you much when you were in school together.

He told you he would often try to sit near you, would always try to land himself in projects with you, but that their teacher thought he was a little bit of a bad boy, preacher's son or not. A soft smile made its way onto your face as he confessed these sweet thoughts to you, bowing your head downwards out of habit.

Feeling his rough fingertips under your chin made your head spin as he tilted your face up so he could see you again “you’re so sweet… so beautiful, little lamb” he whispered, cerulean eyes taking in your parted lips and your slightly furrowed brows.

“Rhett,” his name was out of your mouth, breathy and pleading, before you knew it. His breath seemed to hitch, before he groaned your name, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours - facial expression akin to fathers when he was in pain. It seemed as if his other hand was itching to pull you flush to his body, hovering in the air between you when the two of you heard Royal shouting Rhett’s name in the distance. Apparently the Sunday sermon was over.

“Rhett.” You all but whimpered, longing for his touch, for anything he would be willing to give you. The pained expression was back on his face as he looked down at you again, he gently cupped your face in between his large palms, letting his blue eyes devour your features before he spoke.

“Shh, little lamb, everything is alright. I’ll see you next Sunday, alright? I’ll try to see if I can come before that okay?” He whispered to you, and you nodded, watching as he smiled softly before letting his lips press a lingering kiss to your cheek before he straightened up and guided you back to your house.

Letting out a shaky breath, your mother appeared before you, letting you know which chores needed done before sundown. She took in your shaky state and asked if you were feeling alright.

“Preacher’s son had chosen some… very emotional verses today, I’m sorry mother.” The lie slipped almost too easily from your tongue, and your mother smiled sympathetically, offering you a small pat on your shoulder before she was off, singing praises about that preacher's son.

That week, Rhett appeared when you went to sell your knitted goods at the market, and he had taken his brother's place when you brought the pieces for the charity for the church. When he caught sight of you, those beautiful blues of his would look fiery and alive. His touches would linger, his words like sweet honey as he praised your handiwork. As he collected items for the charity, you decided to stay and help him for a while.

Soon enough, it was time to close the church doors, and it seemed as if Rhett could wait no longer. As the doors hid the two of you from the world, he whispered your name in desperation, cradling your face and neck in his large hands, tilting your head up.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, and a soft, needy noise escaped you at his close proximity, at his words and the way he held you so delicately between his hands.

“Please, Rhett,” you breathed out, daring to let trembling fingers clutch at his white button-up, hesitantly pulling him to you. “Oh, my sweet little dove,” he groaned before his lips came down on yours in a slow kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that made you dizzy. His warm, wet tongue venturing into your willing mouth, slowly caressing your tongue, swallowing your soft gasps.

You had never been kissed like this before - it was intoxicating, and sent heat coursing through your very veins, down to your core. Rhett’s hand had slipped into your hair at some point and the sensation of his strong hold on you had a foreign sound leaving you, a sound you only made on those nights when you had tried in vain to replicate the fire coursing through you now.

The sound of a heavy door slamming, had Rhett pulling away, smiling down at you as he stole one last quick kiss before promising he’d see you that Sunday.

As Sunday came, you felt daring in opting for the white dress that was almost sheer in its thin fabric. It was usually paired with a white bra and top, and sometimes a cardigan. Today, you had foregone both bra and top, covering yourself with your usual cardigan to not raise suspicion with your mother.

To your great surprise, there was a knock on the door before noon, long before the sermon in church was over. Your mother opened the door to see Rhett, holding a bible in one hand and a soothing smile on his face as he explained he had picked out a lengthier passage today, and that his father would come by later. Your mother looked elated as she called for you, ushering you out the door with the preacher’s son.

As you caught sight of Rhett, that familiar ache burned within you, his very innocent touch on your elbow enough to have you leaning closer to him.

Today he led you further away, down the far end of the flowery meadow, where a couple of trees shielded the spot from direct view.

“Rhett-” you had barely finished his name when his lips crashed down on yours in a frantic kiss, his hands squeezing at your waist. “I’m sorry, little lamb. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” he chuckled, gracing your cheek with the back of his hand. You smiled sweetly at him, leaning into his broad chest, letting yourself tuck your face into his warm neck as he held you.

“Rhett,” you tried again, biting your bottom lip as you wondered if this confession would have him fleeing “you… always make me feel funny inside,” you spoke hesitantly, feeling foolish for telling him.

“Can you tell me how I make you feel, honey?” His voice was dark, and his grip on you had tightened slightly, his one hand guiding your chin from out of its hiding place.

Licking your lips you looked into his stormy eyes “like my whole body is on fire… like, like I ache for you,” you furrowed your brows “I tried once, tried to… soothe it, but I- I didn’t know how, and it felt—“ you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rhett groaned, “you have no idea what you do to me, do you? Sweet little thing,” he murmured against your neck, where he started licking and kissing.

“I feel it now,” you confessed with a whine, and Rhett chuckled against your skin. “Mm, have I made you ache, little lamb?” He rumbled and you nodded “where does it ache, sweets?” He continued, his hands caressing your arms slowly.

Licking your lips, you detached yourself from the warm comfort of Rhett’s embrace, slowly removing your cardigan to reveal your all but bare breasts through the sheer fabric of your dress. Not entirely knowing why, or how, your hands slowly inched up the length of your body, keeping eye contact with Rhett as your dainty hands palmed at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you.

“It aches here, Rhett,” you mewled, letting one hand run down the length of your stomach as you whispered “and here, too,”

The growl that left the preacher's son was near animalistic, and his eyes burned with desire as you hitched your white dress up your thigh.

“Teach me” you breathed out as your eyes fluttered closed, and Rhett’s tall frame embraced you, holding you against his hard form. His lips were all over you, kissing you, loving you. His larger palms soon replaced your smaller ones, massaging and palming at your breasts - his nimble fingers teasing your nipples in a way that had you crying out in the pleasure that coursed through you. You knew only he could soothe the ache, you’d known it must be so.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl,” Rhett groaned against you, mouthing at your exposed collarbones before he let his lips latch onto your hardened nipple over the fabric of your breast, suckling, licking and nipping softly at it, only making you louder, mewling and crying out his name.

“Fuck, baby,” he spoke gruffly before he held you in his arms and guided you down on the flowerbed. “Don’t know if I want to teach you how to soothe the ache, baby,” he confessed as he continued to let his tongue wet the fabric of your dress. “Want to be the only one who can make you feel like this, the only one you give yourself to,” he moaned, switching to the other nipple and massaging the other in his hand.

His moans were getting whinier as your hands found his long locks, his suckling becoming more fervent, his hips grinding into your soft thigh.

“I’ll teach you next time, sweet lamb,” he grunted, pushing your dress up to rest by your waist, your glistening bare cunt a stark contrast against the flowers that budded around your body. Rhett moaned again at the sight, letting his two fingers slowly glide between your slick lips, taking in the soft moans you let out for him.

“Fuck I need to taste you,” he moaned, letting his shoulders rest between your thighs, groaning at how easily you spread yourself out for him. “So good for me, such a good girl,” he hummed, and the words sent fire coursing through your veins as you leaned on your elbows to look down at him. At the stroke of his tongue against your heat, your head fell back, a loud cry ripping from your throat.

“Rhett, oh my god!” You gasped, feeling his tongue swirl around parts of yourself you didn’t know could feel that good. As his wet muscle circled your entrance, you keened softly, canting your hips instinctively to get more. More of him.

“Chasing my mouth now, hm, sweet lamb?” He hummed, chuckling darkly as he licked a broad stripe up your cunt “Want to ride my face, don’t you, filthy girl?” His eyes burned into yours and at his words you couldn’t help the obscene moan you let out. Your body was on fire, your thoughts were starting to turn hazy as Rhett’s tongue brought your first orgasm crashing over your body.

“Fuck, you look like an angel,” Rhett groaned as he took in the sight of your slick coating your inner thighs, your pussy glistening in the sunlight, chest heaving and breasts fully visible as the wet fabric clung to them - nipples hard at the chill of the wind.

A whimper left you as he did, his body not touching you momentarily to rid himself of his clothes. “Rhett” you whined, and instantly he was on you again, kissing you, your slick shining on his chin as you tasted your essence on him.

“I need you,” you gasped, feeling something hard and hot between your legs. Looking down you saw that Rhett’s cock was achingly hard, his thick head red and leaking. You didn’t think you’d ever seen anything more beautiful. A pitiful mewl left you, your hand grasping at the hair at his neck to force his mouth down on yours again, as Rhett started guiding his cock between your lips, circling your clit before catching slightly on your hole and repeating the motion.

“You need me to take care of you, sweetheart?” Rhett’s voice was strained, filled with lust and need. You nodded weakly “Please, Rhett,” you gasped, the sensations he brought you wholly heavenly to you.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, caressing your cheek as you keened at his praise, his swollen head now sinking into your wet heat. “Oh” you gasped, whining at the stretch of his cock entering you.

“Doing so well, little lamb - taking my cock so well for me,” he soothed, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your lips as his forehead rested against yours. “It hurts… you’re so big,” you cried, and he was instantly soothing you with kisses, stilling with only half of his cock entered into you.

“Want me to stop, honey?” He murmured as he kissed at your neck. “No, please,” you murmured back, humming in pleasure as he dragged the front of your dress down to latch his lips onto your bare nipple, suckling and kissing at it, making you moan in pleasure as he pressed further into you.

“Rhett, Rhett-“ you babbled, soft cries leaving you as his hips finally became flush with yours. Tears were clinging on to your lashes, and Rhett softly soothed you, kissing at your cheeks and praising you.

“You’re so tight, feel so good wrapped around my cock… you were made to take me, baby, made just for me,” he moaned as he thrust slowly into you, the drag of his cock inside you enough to have your breath speeding up, wrapping your legs around Rhett’s hips to push him deeper.

You didn’t understand why Rhett let out the longest and loudest moan so far at that, but you wouldn’t complain. His skilled hands were soothing aches all over your body, one landing on your lower abdomen as his shallow thrusts made you feel like you were floating on the clouds.

Reaching for you, he pressed down where he could feel the head of his cock “you’re so full of me right now, darlin’” his voice was husky “can you feel me?” He continued and you could only nod as you mewled softly.

“I love being full of you,” you confessed, soft whines and whimpers leaving you as Rhett brought you closer and closer to heaven. “Want you in me always, never want you to leave” you mewled, gripping at his biceps as his pace picked up.

Rhett groaned at those words, soft curse words leaving his lips as he fucked into your wet core. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, sweetheart, have me drippin’ out of your cunt all day,” he grunted, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips as he hiked your thigh higher up on his hip. His name almost slipped past your lips in a needy moan again, but you almost felt like you wanted to call him more. Something forbidden.

“R-Rhett” his name still stuttered on your lips, and he was smirking down at you, as if he knew you were a bad girl with impure thoughts. Perhaps you’d always been bad. As his fingers toyed with a spot above where you were connected, you ascended to the heavens with the help of him. His name along with unknown phrases coming out in quick succession as you felt warmth fill you as Rhett’s hips stuttered and he cried out your name in a strangled gasp.

Still inside you, Rhett let his body come down on yours, resting his head between your exposed breasts, mouthing at them softly. His hands caressed your sides lovingly as he told you he was yours now. And you were his. You’d given yourself to him, and you didn’t mind. You never wanted to leave this meadow - never wanted Rhett to leave you.

As the sun warmed your bodies, and you’d placed countless kisses to his bare shoulders, Rhett helped you dress, smiling at his slick already painting your inner thighs. Pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, he asked you;

“Can you get away again tonight?”

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott smut #preacher!rhett #smut #my writing

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

Text

You’re My Girl

Rhett Abbott x reader

Synopsis: Rhett has always been stubborn and will stop at nothing to ride at the rodeo even with an injury. But after a fight with his wife leads to her being injured Rhett realised what is more important to him.

Warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, couples fighting, descriptions of hospitals

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS?” Rhett shouted, shoving his chair harshly under the wooden kitchen table. “YOU’RE KIDDING ME!”

“Rhett, please just listen. I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? You can’t ask me to not ride. You know how much this means to me.” Rhett sighed, running his hand through his unruly brown locks, “when we got married you promised you’d support me in everything. You promised and…”

“I DO SUPPORT YOU, RHETT!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face, your voice hoarse from arguing with your stubborn husband. Rhett had injured his back hauling bales in the barn but refused to back out of the rodeo on Friday. You loved your husband dearly but he was stubborn as hell when he wanted to be and this was one of those times. Rhett paced back and forth in front of the table, his boots hitting the wooden floor aggressively. You knew you were pushing your luck but you desperately wanted Rhett to rest up. He’d been on strong pain medication from the doctor so he could get out of bed in the morning but he wouldn't stop. How was he expecting to ride a bull? You stood from your seat, rounding the table and coming face to face with him. “Rhett, please. I’m not trying to hold you back, I’m trying to help you. Your back has had you in agony all week. Please just miss this one out, rest up for the week and maybe you can ride the following week. I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Rhett glared at you as you reached towards him but he stepped back, holding his hand up to stop you. “I need this win and you know that better than anyone. I can’t believe you’d ask this of me.” He grabbed his hat from the table and stormed out the front door. You watched as the door ricocheted into the wall with a loud thud. Sinking back into your chair, your heart sunk and you finally allowed yourself to cry, shoulders shaking as you released the sob you’d been suppressing. You’d always hated arguing with Rhett, it wasn’t that his temper scared you, he was known for being fiery, you just hated seeing him hurting. The footsteps shuffling behind you made you turn as Perry and Cecila poked their heads around the corner, looking at you expectantly. You just shook your head, watching as your tears fell onto the table, seeping into the wood like the ink on the pages from the love letters Rhett had sent you. He’d always write you a little note before each of his rides, telling you how much he loved you. It was how he’d proposed. He wrote you a note and told you to read it when he’d won and as the scores came up on the board you’d read it, ‘will you be my girl?’ You had looked up over the crowds of heads to where Rhett stood in the arena, ring box in hand as he shouted, “so what’s your answer, Darlin’.” You smiled at the memory. Those had been happier days when everything was less stressful. Now you had to worry about the Tillerson’s advances on Abbott land, the fact that Perry had killed Trevor, the fact that your husband was on a suicide mission, let alone the secret you’d been keeping for weeks. Cecilia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did everything you could, my Rhett’s stubborn sometimes. He will never learn.”

“But what if it’s not enough,” you wailed, looking helplessly at your mother-in-law. “What if it’s not enough?”

——————————————————————————

The rodeo arena was packed when you arrived and you struggled to find a seat where you could all sit. In the end, Perry had to balance Amy on his knee while you and Cecilia squished on either side of him. You wanted to see Rhett before he rode but Cecelia advised you against it.

“You know how he gets when he’s like this. There ain’t no good trying to talk him out of it.” She was right of course, she was his mother after all but you could help the growing discomfort in your stomach as you wait for him to ride. Royal had gone down to see him and you could see the two men talking. Rhett looked uncomfortable and Royal kept trying to support his son but in true Rhett fashion, he pushed the help away. You fiddled with the sleeve of your jacket nervously, watching as more and more people flooded into the already packed arena. By the time Rhett was ready to ride you were a nervous wreck, palms sweating and heart racing. You’d had to stop yourself multiple times from getting up to tell the judges that Rhett was injured and couldn’t compete but you knew if you did that he'd never forgive you. You watched as the bull hurtled out into the arena, throwing your husband around like a rag doll. Perry gripped your hand tightly and you squeezed it in return as a thank you. He knew how stressed you felt when Rhett rode and although he was generally awkward around you he always tried to comfort you in times like these. As the buzzer sounded you let out the breath you’d been holding, relieved that his first ride of the night was over. Cecelia went to grab some drinks, while Perry and Amy chatted amongst themselves. You got up from your seat, moving down to the metal railings to try and catch another glimpse of Rhett. He was talking to one of the other riders but you could tell by the way he was standing that his back was causing his pain. You were so caught up in what Rhett was doing that we didn’t see the loose bull come charging out into the crowds. People were shouting, pushing and shoving to escape the animal's wrath. The crowd swarmed towards you, shoving you harshly against the railings. Pushing with all your might you freed yourself, tripping and falling into the dust below with an almighty crack, your arm bent underneath you as your head connected with the ground. Searing pain shot up your arm, burning through you as you gasped for air. It was complete agony. Your arm hung limply at your side as you rolled over, avoiding people’s footsteps and propping yourself up against the railings. You could hear the Bullfighters herding the bull back into the chute, thudding hooves against the rough ground and shouts of men filling the evening sky. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings but the pain caused your mind to fog, eyes blurry as you tried to make out your surroundings. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear Rhett’s voice calling your name. You called out to him weakly, willing him to find you. The blurry figure approached you, kneeling and grabbing your face in their hands. You knew it was Rhett, even without seeing him you knew. Your body responded to his touch and you tried to sit forward but he held onto you, stilling your movements. Rhett's voice was full of anxiety as he spoke to you, his voice wavering as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. He pulled you into his lap cradling you close to his chest as he whispered to you comfortingly. “It’s ok, Baby Girl I’ve got you Darlin’. It’s gonna be ok.” You could hear him shouting frantically to Perry and the second set of legs appeared next to you. Everything was muffled and the pain in your arm only progressed until it was blinding, everything was growing darker and all you could hear was Rhett’s voice fading into the distance.

——————————————————————————

Rhett had never been so scared in his whole life when he saw you collapse against the railings as the crowds of people pushed past. He’d run like his life depended on it, bringing you into his arms and cradling you against him. You had a large gash on your forehead and you held your arm against you, whimpering softly as he maneuvered you into a more comfortable position. Everything had happened so fast and before he knew it you were led in the backseat of Perry’s truck heading to the nearest hospital, his final ride completely forgotten. You looked so pale and Rhett felt helpless as you lay unconscious in his arms. Cecilia had ordered him to keep pressure on the cut on your head and the bleeding had now slowed. His mother had given him a small smile before he got into the truck. “She’ll be ok Rhett, she’s a fighter.” Those words circled around Rhett’s head as he watched your lifeless frame. Rhett shouted at Perry to drive faster which caused his brother to run three red lights and nearly got them killed crossing a junction. ——————————————————————————

The hospital was quiet when they arrived and a nurse ushered them straight into a room where Rhett placed you carefully onto the crisp white sheet. You looked as sickly pale and Rhett gulped audibly, trying to control his ragged breathing. The on-call doctor soon arrived and began asking questions but Rhett couldn’t concentrate, his brown eyes stayed fixed on your feeble frame. Perry spoke to the doctor but all his words jumbled into one, the harsh beeping of the heart monitor, the chatter of the doctor and Perry, and the buzzing, flickering light above your bed all blurred into white noise. Perry had to all but drag Rhett out of your room. “You gotta let the doctors do their work, Rhett. You're no good to her now.”

In the waiting room, Rhett sank into the squeaky chair. It had been well used with rips and the leather flaking and Rhett wondered how many family members had sat in this waiting room, just waiting for the news of their family. How many people had cried and mourned, how many had celebrated? Rhett had always wondered what it must be like sitting in the waiting room, wondering how people had felt. He had never been on this side of an accident, normally it was him led in that hospital bed while you sat here fretting. He hated that he’d put you through this feeling time and time again.

The room was no bigger than the hay barn of the ranch and was well-lit with fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling. Rhett's adrenaline from the evening was dimming and he could feel his eyes trying to slip closed but between the bright lights and Perry’s leg tapping incessantly against the floor he had little hope of the rest he was seeking. It felt like an eternity before the doctor appeared in the doorway, white coat on and clipboard in hand. “Mr Abbott?” The tall elderly doctor asked. Rhett could tell by his uninterested tone that he’d been doing this for years, he didn’t even bother looking up from his notes. “Your wife sustained a transverse fracture to her right arm, several broken ribs and she has a concussion.” He continued reeling off medical jargon that left Rhett staring blankly at him, trying to comprehend the complex terminology. “She will be fine and the baby looks to be fine too.” Rhett’s heart stopped. The baby? The doctor left swiftly, leaving Rhett staring into the abyss.

“Rhett, you good?” Perry placed a hand on his brother's shoulders, watching as he swayed a little, with the adrenaline gone and the shock of the news Rhett’s knees buckled and Perry steered his brother back towards the chair. Rhett’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to regain his composure, trying to calm his nerves before facing you. How did this happen? Rhett knew very well how it happened. After his last rodeo win, he snuck with you to his truck. He always felt horny after a win but this time it was different, you were just as mad for him as he was for you. Rhett thought back to that passionate night, windows steamed, naked frames pressed together, your soft whimpers as he pounded into you seeking his release. Rhett’s face was a little flushed when he looked back up at his brother. “I’ve gotta see her.” With that he stood, taking long strides across the room and out into the hallway.

——————————————————————————

As Rhett entered the room he couldn’t help the tears that pricked his blue eyes. You were sat up in bed, plum-coloured bruises littering your face, stitches placed in a neat line along the cut on your forehead and your right arm balanced in a sling. Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest was feeble, but you still gave your husband a small smile.

“Rhett,” you whispered and he was by your side in an instant, clutching tightly onto your left hand. “Oh god Baby Girl, I’m so sorry.” Rhett could feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threatened to fall. He tried to blink them away and stay focused on you, but the tears trickled down his face regardless. You could tell he was doing his best to keep his emotions at bay. He was trying to be strong for you like he always did.

“It’s not your fault,” your voice was weak and croaky and Rhett instantly reached to give you a glass of water which you accepted and drank gratefully.

“This should never have happened. It’s my damn fault, if I hadn't been so stubborn we wouldn’t have even been there and you would have been ok.” Rhett was trying to reason with you but you just shook your head.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Baby. I never want you to feel like I’m holding you back, I only want what’s best for you and I want you to be safe.” You were crying now too so Rhett perched on the edge of your bed, pulling you close as you cried into his shirt. “Shh, don’t cry Darlin’, it’s all gonna be ok.” Rhett couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the baby. It was such a foreign thought to him. A baby. You were having a baby and he would be a father. Ever since you two had started dating you both knew you wanted a family, but after several years of marriage and nothing to show for it, Rhett had assumed that it wasn’t on the cards for you both and he’d accepted that. He was just glad that he had you. When you composed yourself a little, you pulled away to face your husband. “I’m so sorry… I d-didn’t tell you about the b-baby,” you stuttered, still trying to catch your breath from crying.

“It’s ok, Baby Girl, it’s ok. I was just a little surprised, that's all.”

“I was going to tell you after you won tonight, well I was going to tell you even if you didn’t win but I knew you’d win,” you laughed lightly, “but then you hurt your back and I was scared you ride and hurt yourself and I’d lose you and be on my own and…” you continued to ramble but Rhett stopped you, pressing his lips firmly to yours. You melted into him, gripping hold of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, cradling the back of your head gently.

“You're never gonna lose me ok, Baby Girl.” You smiled at the nickname he’d given you when you first started dating. “You're my girl, remember.”

“I’m your girl,” you repeated, taking his hand and placing it against your still-flat stomach. “You know soon you might have two girls.” Rhett chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and laying you both back against the hospital bed. “Maybe I will but don’t worry, you’ll always be my best girl.”

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @rhettabbotts @hederasgarden

#rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fan fiction #rhett abbott #lewis pullman

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

Note

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

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jungle-angel · 1 month

Text

A Cowboy By Any Other Name (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Even in adulthood, Rhett still has the most adorable nickname you've ever heard

Warnings: Mentions of adoptions, plans to start a family etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe

It was one of those Sunday mornings in early spring where you and Rhett had slept deeply, exhausted from the night before and too tired to have switched into your pjs. Amy had crawled in between you, snuggled in the curve of Rhett's elbow with her little Tiger Lily ragdoll Wes and Nora had made for her. The sun had come streaming through the windows of your shared bedroom, shining right onto your faces as Rhett's eyes fluttered open.

He kissed Amy's head before tossing aside the covers to get up, coming over to kiss you before heading downstairs, drawn in by the smell of Cecelia making breakfast for everybody and the hot coffee percolating into the pot.

"Ah first one up I see," she chuckled.

"M'still fuckin tired Ma," Rhett groaned before kissing his mother on the cheek.

"Long night?"

"Like ya'll wouldn't believe," Rhett answered. "First classes and then a ride after."

"Tell me that was your last one."

"Last one, for good this time," Rhett told her. "I ain't gettin banged up anymore."

"Well, I'm glad ya'll did," Cecelia said, cracking a few eggs in the cast iron pan. "Amy needs you and so doesn't (y/n)."

Rhett knew she was right. Amy was still little and desperately needed him around and although you were fairly independent, you needed Rhett just as badly as he needed you. The last time he had gotten banged up from a bull ride had been the week before Amy was born, landing him in the hospital for a week only to return home with his arm in a sling and heavy duty meds for the days after. Thank God he had gotten the woodworking teacher job at the Amelia County Steiner School when he did. It had been a literal lifesaver.

Rhett poured himself some of the fresh steaming coffee into his mug with a little milk from the fridge before you had come downstairs, still heavy headed and groggy.

"Why don't ya'll go back to bed?" Rhett chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Didn't wanna sleep so late," you yawned.

"Sorry to tell you Grumpy," Cecelia said. "But it looks like ya'll are gonna be sharing that coffee."

"Grumpy?" you laughed.

"Rhett bit his lip. "My um.......my nickname."

"Oh my God!" you exclaimed. "That's adorable, how did that one stick?"

"When Rhett was a baby, he'd get all pouty and bore an odd resemblance to Grumpy in Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs," Cecelia explained.

"Aw c'mon Ma," Rhett groaned.

"Oh my God I need to see this!" you said excitedly.

"Oh hold on one sec honey," your mother-in-law laughed.

You and Cecelia went to the credenza in the dining room where she kept all the family photo albums, pulling out a picture of Rhett at three years old with a pouty look on his face.

"Ma what the hell?!" Rhett blurted out.

"Awww look at you and your cute little pouty face," you teased.

Rhett tried to swipe the picture out of your hand but to no avail. When his father came into the dining room, it got ten times worse.

"Hey sugar pea!" Royal called, "Ya'll seen my watch?"

"Fell off the nightstand again," Cecelia answered, holding it up for him.

"Thanks honey," Royal said before he kissed her. "Oh......oh hey now, got the pics?"

"Yeah and I found one of Grumpy with his little pouty face," Cecelia laughed.

"Oh look here's a good one," Royal said as a shit eating grin crawled across his face. "Remember this?"

A laugh escaped your throat as Rhett turned redder than a freshly pulled beet.

"Oh my God I remember that one!" Cecelia exclaimed. "Rhett couldn't have been more than a year old and he went runnin naked through the backyard sprinkler."

"Full moon too!" you blurted out. "You had the cutest lil baby butt ever!"

"DAD PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!!!"

Royal quickly handed off the photo to you before you bolted up the stairs with Rhett hot at your heels, the two of you laughing as he chased you down, pinning you against the wall outside his parents' bedroom.

"You do know Amy's still asleep," you informed him.

"Then gimme the pics."

You two laughed and giggled before Rhett leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him before kissing him again.

"Love you sweetheart," he mumbled.

"Love you too Grumpy," you chuckled.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal x cecelia abbott #outer range

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 8 months

Text

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: The Amelia County Boy's Home is having a back-to-school clothing drive and Cecelia Abbott forces her son to finally get rid of those old clothes that no longer fit. However, Rhett encounters someone he doesn't expect. (wc: 4174)

Warnings: flashbacks, rhett's a bit of an idiot but he's got the spirit

✎……here it is! the long-awaited rewrite! i hope anyone who reads this finds as much joy in it as i have the past few months. this story has helped me find my love of writing again so it's near and dear to my heart - so please be kind!

✎……MASTERLIST || NEXT CHAPTER

Rhett didn’t check to see if there were any holes in the old pair of Wranglers before he chucked them into the box along with everything else. Old shirts from high school that he couldn’t remember the reason for keeping and had been too small for him for quite some time. Sweatshirts and hoodies he bought at rodeos that made him cringe — their airbrushed images of bucking bulls and rearing stallions large. And a few other pairs of jeans that were just on the wearable side of thread-bare. All this he tossed into the cardboard box his mother had given him. Not caring to fold any of it.

They were just donations, after all.

Picking up the box from his bed, and plopping his old brown stetson on his head, Rhett made his way downstairs. The stairs creaked under his booted feet like they had since before he was born.

That was the thing about old farmhouses. They were noisy. Groaned and shook against the winds that rolled along the great Wyoming plains. Settled at odd hours of the night. There was no use in trying to sneak around. Wherever you walked, a floorboard wailed. Over the years, growing up in that old farmhouse, Rhett had learned which polished planks were less squeaky than others. Which steps to avoid in the wee hours of the night. Attempts at creeping through the house, smelling like hay and cheap booze, even his mother — who grew up in that same noisy old farmhouse — found valiant.

But he didn’t care about sneaking now. It was ten in the morning and he had chores to do. One of which was already complete: gather clothes he wouldn’t mind donating to the Amelia County Boys Home.

Rhett stepped into the overcrowded kitchen to the lingering smells of bacon and eggs. He knew he missed breakfast. He slept in late, and everyone else had already been awake for hours. His father and his older brother, Perry, were probably out in the fields counting cattle by now. He hoped he wouldn’t have to see them before he left for town. Rhett set the box down on the small kitchen table in the middle of the room with a sigh. Wondering if there was any coffee left.

“That you Rhett?” his mother called from her office.

Once upon a time, that office was the family dining room. But that conversion took place long before Rhett was born. His grandfather turned it into an office space for the family ranch when he inherited it from his father. Hence the crowded kitchen.

“Yeah,” he replied, taking off his hat and setting it beside the box, knowing his mother would give him a look for wearing it inside the house. “There any coffee?”

“A little, maybe.”

Rhett turned to the coffeemaker, and sure enough, there was enough for one cup. That was all he needed. Getting down a mug from the hooks over the window, he poured what remained in the decanter and took a sip. Nothing fancy, but it did the job in waking him up some.

His mother’s small steps echoed, floors creaking, as she walked into the kitchen. She pointed at the box on the table. “Those the clothes y’re donatin’?”

Cecelia Abbott was a stout woman. Both in heart and stature. Her brown hair much like her younger son’s was cropped short around her ears. She never did anything to it like the other rancher’s wives, just let it hang around her face and hoped for the best. And her face was hard, wrinkled like old leather. Evidence of a hard life and years of hard work. She was kind — but often silent.

“Yeah,” Rhett replied, turning to lean back against the counter.

Cecelia picked up the sweatshirt laying on top. A sweatshirt with Amelia County Rodeo printed on the front with peeling letters — a cowboy riding a bull just underneath (also peeling at the edges). A relic from his days on the high school rodeo team. First time he ever rode a bull and really caught the thrill for it. The best part of his high school days, in his opinion. She turned it around so he could get a look at the logo. A small, fond smile flashed across her face only long enough for him to recognize it.

“Sure ya don’t wanna keep this one?” she asked, turning it back over and tracing the letters with her thumb.

Rhett took a gulp of his coffee. “Why would I?”

“I don’know…For the memories?” she suggested, “Show your kids one day?”

He scoffed over the lip of his mug. At this rate, there was a slim chance of that happening. A wife, couple kids — that entire settled-down life that it felt like everyone in their small western town was ready for him to have. He was twenty-three and every girl he tried to date either left him or didn’t seem interested in getting married until the relationship after him. He blamed the bad luck on still living at home and his reputation as a bull rider, but really, deep down, he knew it was him that was the problem. Every time. There wasn’t any sense in holding out hope for something that wasn’t in the cards for him. So he shook his head and sipped up the last of his coffee.

“‘Member jus’ fine without it,” he said, watching as his mother folded the sweatshirt gently and put it back in the box.

All she did was hum in answer.

Amelia County, Wyoming had one real city, along with a few other unincorporated communities. Wabang. The Dirty Bang to those who managed to escape but still came back from time to time. Rhett thought the name was funny, though his parents gave him a glare any time he used it in front of them (Perry, without fail, always laughed).

The city itself was small. With a square downtown full of mom-and-pop shops or empty storefronts. Just enough stuff for the ranchers and farmers that made up the population to get by. If you wanted clothes from somewhere besides the Tractor Supply or watch a movie in theaters or eat someplace nice — you had to drive the two hours to Casper.

Everything felt a little dusty in Wabang. A little worse for wear. A little like everything and everyone was on the verge of keeling over. Like that old horse put out to pasture a long time ago. Just waiting for the day to come but stubbornly refusing to give in. Stuck in some space between life and death.

At least, that was how Rhett saw it.

He remembered when he was eighteen and telling anyone who would listen that as soon as he graduated, he was getting off his family’s ranch and out of that little nothing town. Graduation came and went. He knew he couldn’t go to college. His grades were never going to be good enough for that. And getting up and leaving everything he knew, no matter how much he wanted something more, scared him — now that the time had come. So he decided to wait a year. Save up. Make a solid plan. Then one year turned into two. And so on until suddenly he was twenty-three and he was still on that ranch and still in that town.

Maybe he too was dusty, worse for wear, on the precipice of some death that he saw coming a mile away. Stuck between.

He glanced at the box full of clothes sitting in his passenger seat as he drove into town. Adjusted his grip on the steering wheel as well as the lay of his hat.

It wasn’t that the Boy’s Home scared him. It just made him uneasy. A big Victorian with peeling white paint and missing roof tiles on the outskirts of town — surrounded on either side by more old houses with faded colors and rotted porches — rumors spread easily that the place was haunted. At the very least ghost adjacent. Or maybe the real source of his unease was the fact that anytime he misbehaved as a kid his dad would purposefully drive by and threatened to drop him off and leave him there.

Either way, whether by the speculation of specters or his father’s threats, he felt slightly wary as he pulled up in front of the Boy’s Home now.

Only, it wasn’t like how he remembered it.

The paint had been redone. It was no longer chipped and faded but pristinely, bright white. Even the roof was fixed, completely replaced by brick red tiles all in neat rows. There were flowers, brightly colored mums and coneflowers, and bushes planted out front. The plack that read Amelia County Boy’s Home est. 1905 by Miss Abigail Granger was no longer crooked, hanging by one screw beside the front door, but perfectly straight. A sign was pushed into the lawn about the clothing drive. The entire house stood out in stark contrast to the still decrepit buildings surrounding it. The only blemish was a porch swing with a broken chain.

This place didn’t feel dusty. Or worse for wear. Or on the verge of some slow, long-awaited death. It felt…Welcoming. Homey. Full of life.

Suddenly, he was feeling like he should have checked those Wranglers for holes.

Rhett sighed as he cut the engine and climbed out of his truck. Box cradled in his arms. He followed the short stone path up to the front porch, looking for somewhere to put his donation or at least someone to leave it with. But there was nothing except that porch swing, one side still held aloft by the intact chain. Another sigh slipped past his lips, huffed and slightly agitated. He was hoping to get by with this chore without having to talk to anyone besides maybe a here ya go and you’re welcome. But alas, he adjusted his hat one more time and rang the doorbell.

“Coming!” a feminine voice called from inside. A few moments later, the blue door was pulled open. “Can I help you?”

He knew her. Nearly a head shorter than him, athletic build gone slightly soft, with long light brown hair kept back from her face by a kerchief covered in daffodils. Her eyes were big and blue and expectant. The corner of her full pink lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile. She looked kind, but not silent about it.

Her name was just out of his reach though, on the tip of his tongue.

But he remembered her from high school.

The Wyoming/South Dakota Rodeo Invitational was always the one event in the season that Rhett looked forward to the least. He hated the South Dakota team. Mostly because they were good, but also because they knew it too. Liked to rub it in their faces. Call them a bunch of dirty hicks when they were all a bunch of dirty kids of hicks with something to prove.

It made Rhett angry, so he rode better. But not good enough. He only placed third. Shiny yellow ribbon pinned to his protective vest nearly mocking him as he walked back to grab his gear.

He passed by the dirt riding pit, the stands now completely empty and the fairgrounds only lit by the yellow street lamps above. A few people still milled about. Other kids and their parents, talking excitedly about their scores or abysmal about their performance. Rhett was just glad his parents couldn’t make it to this one. He didn’t know if he would have been able to stand the fake positivity from his father or his mother’s sympathetic face.

There was a girl standing at the pit railing, still wearing her back number with Amelia County printed at the top. She was alone, hands in her back pockets, white stetson tilted back on her head.

“Bus’s leavin’ soon,” he called out to her.

She turned to face him with a bewildered look, eyebrows raised and pink lips downturned, and he stopped walking. A big blue ribbon was pinned to her flannel.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, pushing away from the fence and walking towards the show barn where their teams' gear was stored during the rodeo.

Rhett only had to take a few long strides to catch up with her. “Congrats.”

“Thanks,” she said again as she glanced down at her ribbon.

“Barrel racin’, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Her cheeks looked pink in the yellow light. “Bull rider, right?”

“Yeah,” he laughed softly.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. He waited for her to grab her things and walked back to the bus with her. She sat towards the front, by herself. And Rhett went towards the back where his friends were calling his name.

She was that same girl. That same barrel racer who won first place and walked with him quietly and pink-cheeked. Looking up at him now with some sort of knowing smile forming on her face. Like she was in on the joke but he didn’t get it. His tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth, too large for the space, as he adjusted his grip on the box and tried to say something.

He still couldn’t remember her name.

He also couldn’t remember if she had been that pretty before.

Her head cocked to one side, knowing smile growing as she prompted, “Is that for the clothing drive?”

“Y-Yeah,” he managed to stutter out around the growing weight of his tongue, blinking rapidly as he glanced down at the Amelia County Rodeo Team sweatshirt neatly folded on top. “Uh — there-there wasn’t a place f’me t’put it, so…”

“Oh, God, sorry! Brought everythin’ in t’start organizin’. Got more than I’thought we would,” she replied, smile that showed maybe too much of her teeth never leaving her face, then she reached for the box. “Here, lemme take that.”

Her small hands slid over the sides of the cardboard box and caught his fingers by accident. Rhett felt something flutter inside him, like his gut twisting in a knot. Her skin was warm. Even from such a brief touch, he knew her hands were soft — untouched by years of hard work. He glanced down at his now empty hands. Rough, hard callouses stared back at him. Immediately, he dropped them back down at his sides. Adjusting the weight of the box in her arms, she stepped back into the doorframe.

Her name scratched at the back of his mind like the dog he left out in the rain. It was right there. But he just couldn’t grasp it — and he knew he couldn’t just ignore it.

“You went t’Amelia County High, right?” he asked.

Her mouth shut with an audible clack, smile and teeth gone, as she cocked her head at him. Brows furrowed in something like curiosity. Rhett smiled as he watched her. She looked cute when she did that.

“Yeah, I did.” She adjusted her grip on the box, thigh coming up to push it further into her arms. “Uh — we sat next t’each other at graduation, actually.”

It was an absolutely sweltering day in May, 2015. The sun high in the sky by mid-morning and not a cloud in sight to block the bright rays. Rhett wished he could have at least worn his stetson to keep the light out of his eyes. But he had a different hat to wear today.

A golden graduation cap with a blue tassel hanging by his left ear.

Amelia County High School held its graduation ceremony at the fairgrounds, in one of the big metal-sided show barns with stands already set up on either side of the dirt-covered floor. There was always a notice sent out to all the seniors not to wear nice shoes.

Inside the barn, the sun wasn’t shining in his eyes, but he could feel the sweat running down his back. The air pulled into his lungs thick with that early summer heat and the smell of old cow shit. With the last name Abbott, Rhett had the distinct privilege of sitting in the front row of his graduating class of 150. Closest to the makeshift stage and the valedictorian finishing up her speech. She was going off to Georgia for school — something medical — and Rhett could only wish he had that kind of excuse to get out of Wabang. But senioritis had hit him hard, and his grades suffered for it. He hadn’t even bothered putting in an application anywhere. It wasn’t like he would’ve known what to major in any way.

His plan was to leave the following morning. Pack up his stuff and go west. Follow the rodeo, live out of his truck. Find…Whatever it was he was looking for. There had to be something out there for him. He just knew it. And he wanted to find it.

He looked over his shoulder at the rest of his classmates. All in those matching golden gowns. Maria Olivares stood out to him easily. Beautiful and posed and smiling up at her friend on stage. With skin like caramel, full lips painted pink, and hair dark as night. She was getting out of this town too. California to learn how to be a veterinarian.

Maybe she was part of what he would find out there in the wide world.

“Rhett Theodore Abbott.”

He strode across the stage, his family cheering wildly from the stands. Taking his diploma, carefully tucked in a blue leather case, he shook the principles hand. Then he walked off the stage and back to his seat. It was over in seconds. Four years — and it was done. Part of him felt as if it, getting his diploma and walking across the stage, should have felt like more. More momentous, more exciting, more something had ended and something else was beginning. Instead, it felt like nothing. There he sat, sweating in his seat, diploma in hand.

And he just felt stuck.

The next person’s name was called. Another last name starting with A. She was short, her gown nearly covering completely the old cowboy boots she wore. Her hair, brown as young tree bark, shone with hairspray and curled around her shoulders. Her smile big and wide as she accepted her diploma and walked across the stage. Her applause was just a bit louder than Rhett’s — a whistle piercing the air that made her laugh.

That whistle sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place where he had heard it before.

The girl came down from the stage and sat next to him back in their row. For a moment, it was just the two of them.

“We did it!” she laughed awkwardly, fists slightly raised in celebration.

Rhett chuckled. “Yeah.”

They said no more as the ceremony went on. As the names of all their classmates were called. As they got to their feet and moved their tassels from the right — to the left. And as everyone cheered, Rhett looked back to see Maria Olivares kissing her boyfriend.

“Abernathy.”

The name he suddenly remembered came past his lips more like a question than he intended. His head tilted down as he looked at her through squinted eyes, wondering if he was right or if he had just made a fool of himself. Her lips peeled back in a smile before she laughed, loud and beautiful. A relieving sound to his doubt.

“Yeah,” she laughed again, adjusting her grip on the box again. “Most people call me Tessa, though.”

He repeated her name on a mutter, tried it out on his tongue. A smile quirked the corner of his mouth when her cheeks turned pink. Just like they did under the yellow lights of the rodeo. But in the mid-morning sun, the blush tint made the freckles high on her cheekbones stand out more. Like wildflowers dotted in a field.

Tessa Abernathy. Now that her name was in his grasp, memories of her came flooding back. Watching her barrel race with a kind of determination that cast her face in shadows that gave him chills. Her standing across a circle of mutual friends in the school hallway, never saying much and shifting foot to foot. He remembered her eyes. Blue as a cloudless day in July and always looking at him like she was just caught doing what she shouldn’t. A little different maybe, but harmless. They hardly ever spoke to each other and they both seemed content that way.

That girl from Amelia County High was nothing like the woman that stood before him now. Or had she really always been that pretty and he was too stupid to notice? She looked up at him with those same July eyes — only all he could see was confidence. Maybe amusement as she waited for him to say more. Should he say more? He didn’t know what, only that he wanted to.

Swallowing down the weighty feeling on his tongue, he rubbed at the rough material of his work jeans as he started, “I d’know if y’member me — “

“‘Course I ‘member you, Rhett Abbott.” She grinned, ear to ear, as if they shared some secret.

She remembered him too. Probably from the instant she saw him. An unexpected guilt tugged at the pit of his gut. He was always doing that. Forgetting shit he shouldn’t. Like the name of the pretty girl he went to high school with. Just another one of those things he didn’t know how to fix and at this point, no one expected any better from him. So he stopped trying a long time ago.

“I — m’sorry,” he muttered, gaze focused on his dirty boots.

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for,” she answered, “S’not like we were friends or whatever.”

“You were friends with Laney, right?”

Laney Griner. Small and blonde with big opinions and an even bigger voice. The life and organizer of many parties. But still sweet as the pies she liked to bring to bake sales. Rhett never liked the way she would play dumb in order to get the other guys to pay attention to her. It never worked on him — and he wasn’t sure if Laney ever wanted it to. She really only had her eyes set on one boy.

“And you were friends with Walker.”

Walker Browning was that boy. Rhett’s best friend since kindergarten. He was shorter than Rhett and broader. Built like the son of a ranch hand he was. Walker liked to dream — but he wasn’t much of a doer. He liked to drink and party and everyone wondered when he was going to grow up. Cecelia Abbott liked to blame Rhett’s lack of ambition on the Browning boy, but there was never any real malice behind it

Laney and Walker came as a package deal, forcing their friend groups to be together often. Though that never seemed to mean the two halves talked to each other much.

“Yeah,” Rhett chuckled nervously, wiping at his mouth. “Um — when-when’d you get back in town?”

Tessa laughed again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “I never left.”

All Rhett could do was stare at her for a moment, thinking. There was no way. It had been six years since they graduated. Surely he would have seen her around town in that length of time. One of the bars, the rodeo, a weekend bonfire, the grocery store — something. But he couldn’t recall anything. Not that too big smile or eyes like easy summer days. He even still hung out with Walker, and Laney was with them often (when they weren’t broken up for the time being).

“Seriously?” he questioned, still racking his brain for somewhere he might have seen her but just missed it — guilt pulling at his insides again.

“Seriously.” She turned and set the box down on the floor inside with a soft groan, when she straightened, she leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed. “Don’t feel bad — don’t get much free time workin’ here.”

Rhett glanced around the porch, eyes catching on the black metal plack. Right. He had nearly forgotten. “Y’like it?”

“I do. What about you? I’know ya still ride bulls, but — uh — ?”

“Family’s ranch,” he replied with a nod.

Tessa smiled, and suddenly it didn’t seem too big or to show too much teeth, it was perfect for her. Beautiful even. Like her own personal bit of sunshine that she graciously blessed him with — that warmed his belly and made his own small smile try and form some reply.

“Nice,” she said, then a voice called from inside the house. She looked over her shoulder, then back to him apologetically. “I gotta get back t’work. Thanks — f’r’the donation. It was nice talkin’ to ya.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” He nodded with a small smile, stepping back towards the porch steps.

Tessa Abernathy smiled at him one last time as she grabbed hold of the door, lip caught in her teeth and that pink back in her cheeks. “See ya around, Rhett.”

He really hoped that he did.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

a/n: yeah i rewrote the fic...don't look at me. i originally wrote this when i was deeply lost in trying to please literally everyone besides myself and i lost my creative voice. so here we are. i am much happier and i hope the people who enjoyed the og version of this fic like it too.

#oc: tessa abernathy #fic: here to stay #fd: outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott imagine #outer range #outer range fic #outer range imagine #outer range oc #ocapp #chapter update #fic rewrite #rhett abbott x tessa abernathy #lewis pullman

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

The Taste of the Divine | Rhett Abbott (18+)

There’s something wrong with the Abbott land. Something bad about it, it’s clear as day. Angered and maybe on the wrong side of tipsy, Rhett stumbles across something — someone — he shouldn’t have out on the West pasture.

Warnings: vampire reader, race inclusive so ignore the header, written third person with she/her pronouns. Blood, lots of blood, biting, drinking, consuming — yaknow— vampire stuff. Oral (f receiving) and unprotected pinv. Kind of dubcon in that rhett is scared and horny but still down for what’s happening, wc 5.4k

…

“There’s a weird lady out on the West pasture!”

Cecelia’s nerves are already shot to pieces, what with her two terraway boys and all the trouble they’ve managed to cause both recently and over the almost three decade span of their lives. The crash of the door swinging open and banging into her wallpaper, followed by the thundering clap of Amy’s mud-caked boots along her hardwood floors, and then the true snarl of the thunder that rages on outside.

She drops the plate into the sink, suds and soapy water splashing onto the countertops and tile. Curling her hands around the granite, she inhales slowly and closes her eyes.

Royal jolts awake from his nap in his recliner, his rheumatic hands flinching as they clench around the now warm bottle of his beer. Rhett glances up from the shotty news cast on the television as she wizzes past him towards the kitchen.

She’s met with a dubious gaze from her father at the kitchen table and an eye roll that she isn’t supposed to have caught from her grandmother.

“There was!” Amy insists, her voice shrill and panicked as she stomps her boot into the floor and splatters her own muddy footprint. “She was staring right at me! — And she was dressed weird!”

Royal shakes his head and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He exhales all of his irritations out into the room and narrows his eyes at his youngest son, “Don’t worry, princess. Rhett’ll go check it out.”

Rhett scoffs and sinks back further into the arm chair, shaking his head, “No he won’t. Maybe her dad’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it.” Royal stares right ahead at Rhett, serious and stone-faced. “You’re the one who showed her that damn scary movie.”

The young cowboy growls in frustration as his truck plows through the storm, mud plastering the wheels and the paint job. Fucking Amy and her wacky fucking imagination.

He checks damn near the whole west pasture. It’s dark out, pouring with rain. If there was a woman out here, she’d probably be making her way to the house by now anyway.

It’s after he has already given up on looking and decided to come back that he spots it. The herd separated from one of the cows. He drives a little closer for a better look. It’s on its side — dead. He sighs, knowing that Royal will just be pissed about this too. He turns his head and catches movement in his peripheral. Looking back towards the cow, he sees it. The figure hunched over the animal.

Rhett squints, trying to look through the glaring white of his headlights. There’s a figure amongst the herd, he can’t quite see what it is. Hunched over one of the cattle like a damn animal, but it’s not shaped right to be a wolf. His better judgement tells him to stay in the truck.

Chilled fingers reaching out across the bench beside him, they curl around the butt of the shotgun. Brows furrowing, his eyes never once leave the contorted figure. Its shadow through the light tells Rhett that it’s moving, but it’s not right. It isn’t moving… right. Not like any kind of predator he has ever seen.

Being out here in the wide open, with the beams glaring right at this fucking thing, and it isn’t bothered in the slightest. Usually the wolves would be spooked by the lights or the sound of the engine. Not whatever is in front of him now.

Perry used to tell Rhett stories about this kind of thing. Figures lurking out in the pasture, things that weren’t human and wanted to hurt him. Older now, not the same angry little boy staring at the shadows on his wall with his covers pulled up over his face, it’s dismaying to realize that the same stomach-sick, cold kind of feeling washes over him.

Instinct. Royal says that Rhett didn’t inherit a damn ounce of it. But he did. He knows how to keep himself alive. Even after he hits the ground after getting tossed off a bull and it feels like he can physically feel his brain swelling and heart struggling to keep him going, instinct has always pushed him onto his feet and out of that heaving creature’s way. It tells him now to just shift the gears and go back the way he had come. Something tells him that it won’t follow.

Not even sure that he’s still breathing, he sits forwards and tries to make out what it is. It’s not right to be scared of the dark at his age. Of a fucking monster that Amy thinks she saw. Not a monster — a woman. He squints again, tilting his head just slightly. It can’t be a woman. Tearing apart that poor thing in front of it like it’s a sheet of paper. No human could rip through muscle and bone and tendon like that.

Too small to be a bear, not shaped right to be a young one either. It’s not a fucking wolf. He has no idea what it is. But he’ll be damned if he lets it kill off half the herd just for sport. If he could see better, maybe if it was a clearer night or if the rain wasn’t soaking the windshield, he’d be able to see the methodical way that the creature has picked apart its prey. Not sport. Survival.

Rhett’s calloused hand curls around the shotgun, his other grabbing the latch on the door handle. Perry was always more scared of his own damn stories than Rhett ever was.

The sound of the rain amplifies as he swings open the truck door, letting his right leg follow it. His boot touches down into the soaked mud, sliding just slightly before he’s even out. Adjusting the cap on his head, the door swings shut behind him and he tightens his grip on the door stock wrist, gripping the fore end of the gun with his other hand. He lifts the stock up to his cheek and takes a step forwards.

Even out here, Rhett can’t quite make out what he’s looking at. Doubled over and clawing at the flesh of the animal in front of it, he can’t even tell where the cow ends and the creature begins. Jagged-movements, snarling like a wolf, strength like a bear.

“Hey!” It’s a big of a sound as his tightened lungs will let him make. Not meek, it’s deep and graveled. It has scared off bigger animals before. It’s a mistake.

The snarling stops, it doesn’t get any less loud. Rain beating into the ground around him, soaking his clothes and chilling his skin. His heartbeat thudding in his ears is probably the loudest thing for miles.

Like an abstract painting, what is in front of him is just one of those things that doesn’t make any sense until you catch glimpse of that one part that tells you exactly what you’re looking at. Slender fingers braced on either side of the torn open chest cavity, resting still.

The sky and horizon black around it, solely illuminated by the beams of Rhett’s headlights, the creature finally looks up, grinning.

Mouth soaked, chin dripping with blood. Eyes red too, a deeper, more furious colour than the blood that coats her skin. A woman. No longer contorted strangely forwards, her head tilts as she stares right at his face. He’s right — his heartbeat is the loudest thing for miles.

She’s on her knees, pressed into the mud, devouring an animal twice her size. There’s something in her eyes that Rhett doesn’t recognise. He blinks slowly, fingers curling tighter around the shotgun. Rhett has never been looked at by anything the way that she — this thing — is looking at him now.

“What the…” His boots slip in the soaked mud, it cakes the soles and sides, threatening to swallow his footing in the marshy ground if he doesn’t move more cautiously.

She’s barely human looking, there’s something sinister in the reds of her eyes that makes Rhett’s stomach flip. His body carries him backwards quickly enough that his feet start to slip in the mud and the barrel of the gun falters away from the red, splattered target she has made for herself on her chest.

Her lips quirk further at the sides, her grin stretching as he stumbles back from her. Her pointed tongue, a deep crimson as it lifts forwards and cleans the blood from her teeth. She presses her weight forwards onto her palms like she’s going to stand.

Blue eyes widening, his heartbeat falters and amusement covers her chilling features as he drops the gun all together. The safety wasn’t even off. His hands fumble from the door, boots slipping in the mud, rain pouring down his back. With a panting breath, he finishes his sentence. “Fuck?”

Her stomach tightens, reminding her of why she was out here feasting on damn cattle in the first place. She’s so. Fucking. Thirsty. Something in her eyes changes. Rhett recognises the exact moment that he stops being entertainment and instead, becomes prey. It’s not something that he has ever been before, and yet, his body knows exactly what to do. Instinct. Something primal, maybe.

She reaches up and wipes her chin on her forearm, finished with the dead animal in front of her. Primal seems like the right word.

He glances up to the sky, pitch black and still pouring with rain like the heavens have opened up. That seems right too. It’s the first time that his eyes leave her since she has looked up, and he doesn’t dare look back. He tears open the door to the truck and hastens inside, locking the doors and fumbling for the key in the ignition.

He catches hold of the cold metal and looks ahead. She’s standing now. Looking right at him. It’s a little too bright to see with the headlights on, but there’s something disarming about the way she’s looking at him. Blood gone from her chin but still covering her chest, her arms, her hands. It’s the first time that Rhett notices what she’s wearing.

A plain white nightgown, cotton, soaked through and clinging, almost sheer to her body. It comes down to her mid-shins, torn around there. Satin woven through the neckline of it. It’s old — he can’t place it to a certain time period, but it isn’t from this one. Blood and rain mix together to saturate the material, evidence of what she has done lingering on its threads even as the rain washes her skin clean.

She’s barefoot. She must be freezing.

A sick feeling fills him as he realizes that she has drawn closer. That he can see that she is barefoot because she has stepped around the carcass and is walking towards him. He hadn’t even noticed.

His fingers curl tighter around the key but he doesn’t turn it. He just watches. The softened, almost timid look on her face as she stalks towards the truck, bathed in the white glow of the headlights. Still stained in red.

As she reaches the hood, she leans forwards and rests her palms on it. Rhett glances down, remembering the way her slender fingers had been braced on either side of the cow, nails sunk into its flesh. He swallows, blinking hard and forcing his fingers to move. The engine splutters.

Looking back up, his eyes study her face. She’s looking right at him, drenched. Scared. Out here all on her own. He doesn’t try the key again. It occurs briefly to him that something is wrong — that the sick, dreadful feeling had flooded away the second he met her now dark, but not red, gaze.

“Rhett.” She says his name like a prayer. A baited sigh, pleasant and desperate all at once. He blinks at her waiting at the hood of his truck. She tilts her head as he swallows, watching his adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat, listening to the blood gush through his veins. It was the name that the little girl had cried out earlier. She knows that it’s his name.

She mimics his swallow and reminds herself to blink. It freaks them out when she forgets to do that. He’s calmer already, but he’s afraid of her. Her lips almost quirk. He’s smart, he knows better. And yet — as she passes around to the passenger side, he makes no effort to try the key again.

Rhett slides further along the truck bench, pressing his back to the driver’s side door as she watches him through the passenger side window. She curls her fingers around the door handle and it complies with a quiet, effortless snap.

She looks up quickly as his breathing hitches. She shouldn’t be able to hear it from that side of the door, but she does. She shouldn’t have been able to snap the lock like this, but she did.

The door clicks open with no resistance, and Rhett finally gets a good look at her face. His brows furrow slightly as he looks her over, those sweet little features and those big, trusting eyes. He can’t remember why he locked the door in the first place.

“Rhett?” She moves fluidly now. As her gaze breaks from his to watch herself kneel on the truck bed, Rhett remembers. He catches sight of the almost washed away blood on her forearms. He looks quickly back towards the torn apart cow a couple feet from the truck. He remembered her jagged, twitching, animalistic movements. The truck door closes behind her. On her knees, she slides delicately across the bench and rests her hand against his.

She’s soaked, but her hands are warm. She curls her fingers around his palm, lifting it from the leather. His attention turns back towards her, arms tense, breathing shallow. Her lips quirk softly, almost sweetly, as she brings his bruised knuckles to her crimson-tinged lips and kisses softly.

Bringing it back down slowly, she rests his hand in her lap, against the soaked material of that strange nightgown. Next, she lifts her hand and strokes it along the length of his neck, smoothing his hair back away from his jugular. “You don’t have to be afraid.” She tells him calmly.

With every fiber of his being, he believes her. He believes that he doesn’t have to be afraid, but he is anyway. He’s afraid of what he saw, and what she is — plenty of things all at once.

Leaning closer, his scent is intoxicating, her mouth waters as her nose brushes against the stubble on his jaw. Rhett slams his eyes shut, suddenly wishing that he was a kid again, with covers to pull up to his chin, and his parents to tell him that he was going to be alright.

Her throat squeezes, desperate. She presses her lips tenderly to his skin, feeling his pulse under her. Pulling back, she hooks a finger under his jaw and turns his head towards her.

With his eyes on her again, he’s unafraid. Handsome. Pretty, blue eyes with long lashes, sun-soaked skin but in the kind of way that demonstrates hard work. A few centuries ago, she would’ve adored him. Now, it’s enough to just soothe his fears. She sits forwards and presses her lips softly to his cheek, pulling back and doing the same to the other one.

He doesn’t flinch. She can feel how badly she wants her touch, even with his trembling hands still rigid on his thighs. She takes his hand again, this time placing it over her breast through the sheer material.

Rhett’s brows furrow, he searches her face for answers and finds none. She leans into him again, this time kissing his lips. His hand remains stationary, unmoving, frozen. His lips move just the tiniest amount, chasing her kiss.

He had been expecting her to taste like blood, but she doesn’t. She smells expensive and she doesn’t taste like anything at all.

Rhett watches as she pulls back long enough to curl her fingers into the hem of the nightdress, peeling it up her body and letting it fall into the footwell. Kneeling before him, completely bare, she leans in again and kisses him tenderly.

His hand flexes against her hip, curling around her skin, feeling the warmth under his palm. Unmistakably human. He kisses her, fingers pressing into her sides.

“It won’t hurt,” She promises him, smoothing her open palm along his clothed chest. Wordlessly, Rhett understands what she is asking of him. He knows what hunger looks like. She kisses him again, more desperately this time, her fingertips trailing the dampened stitching of his jeans along the inseam of his thigh. Pulling back, she nips softly at his earlobe, feeling him shiver. “You give yourself to me, and I’ll give myself to you.”

Again, he understands what he is agreeing to. Her eyes are more red than they were before, her thumb stroking along the column of his neck. She’s intoxicating up close.

“Rhett?” She prompts him, smoothing her hand over his crotch, featherlight as she kisses his lips again. One more taste and she might just lose her mind. The flush in his skin makes her throat dry. The smell of his hair, his skin, the day that he has had. She growls lowly as he presses forwards and kisses her hard, grabbing at the back of her neck.

Almost eighty years of rest — her thirst nips at her nerves, fingers flexing against his shoulder blades as he covers her body with his, a silent reminder that he is still the one at her mercy here.

Her tongue trails the length of his jugular, as far as it spans along his throat. She kisses him feverishly as his rough, calloused hands explore her smooth skin. Not a scratch on her. Like she was just dropped out here, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been a while since she has had sex, even longer since she has had sex with a human. She had almost forgotten how eager they were. The beat of his heart against her bare chest is practically an aphrodisiac.

“I need something soon,” She murmurs into his neck, kissing it tenderly as she pushes his open button down back off of his shoulders. Rhett nods as he drops his head down to her chest, suckling at her warm skin. She pushes her fingers into his hair as he nips at her navel. “You aren’t scared, are you, cowboy?”

Rhett looks up at her from where he’s situated between her legs. Rugged, flushed with life, a spark of amusement in those wild blue eyes. It sparks her with envy as she sits up quickly. A little too quickly, something unhuman in the swiftness of it.

“No.” Rhett tells her. She catches hold of his jaw, nostrils flaring briefly. He should be. His hand smooths along her hip. “It’s okay. Go ‘head.”

She softens, not turning her head away from his throat. It’s not his fault, she supposes. She thinks of his family, hearing them pottering around their little home miles away — not thinking of him, out here, all alone with her. She thinks of her own family, long gone now, but not dissimilar to his.

“‘M gonna make it feel good, Rhett,” She says softly, honeyed cadence and soft lips as they gaze his throat. He closes his eyes and waits. Her index finger pressed to his throat, a discreet spot right below his jaw. The nail presses into his skin and drags, splitting the flesh. Blood spills from the cut immediately. Rhett gasps softly as she lurches forwards and presses her mouth to it.

She sucks the fresh blood from his neck, warm and sweet on her tongue — she should’ve known that a gruff looking cowboy like him would taste sweeter than honey.

He grunts as her palm cups his crotch through his jeans, using the meat of her palm to grind against his hardening cock. His eyes flutter closed as he tongue flicks over the small cut, still sucking at the crimson liquid.

Rhett curls a hand into her hair, holding at the base of her neck, keeping her against him. “S-Shit,” He pants out, grinding his hips up into her palm, leaning his head back in surrender. “Oh.”

Her free hand curls into his hair and tugs, exposing more of his throat to him, making him groan. His fingers smooth softly over the nape of her neck, she reminds herself to be gentle with him.

Licking away the remaining blood, she presses her thumb to the small cut to stop the bleeding. He kisses her slowly, slipping his tongue into her mouth. This time, he does taste copper, but he doesn’t mind it that much. She makes it worth tasting.

He glances down at her blood-soaked skin, the remnants left of what the rain wasn’t fast enough to wash away. He knows that he should be afraid of what’s coming, but he isn’t.

She reminds herself to move slowly and to breathe, to blink, as she takes the cap from his head and discards it, moving into his lap. Bracketing his hips with her thighs, she curls her fingers into his white undershirt, lips quirking. It’s not the same smile as earlier, that gutwrenchingly terrifying grin, but it’s enough to remind him to be afraid.

Her nails press into the material, tearing it with ease. It splits at the middle and down the sides. She discards it with little care, pressing her bare chest against his, carding her fingers through his brown locks as he kisses her. Desperate for that taste again, his lips chase hers. She gives it to him graciously, caressing his tongue with hers. Desperate for more than that, quite clearly.

He’s rock hard against the denim of his jeans, breathing hard through his nose as his hands grope at her still-wet skin. They stop briefly, finding purchase on the curve of her ass, using his human strength to angle her hips and rock his hardened cock against her core.

He would have eaten her alive if he had come across her before she was turned, the sweet little thing she had been back then. Raking her nails along his chest, she reminds him swiftly of the now leveled playing field.

Rhett thinks that this is just like every other girl he has been with — she feels it in his movements. The experienced, cool way that he knows how to touch a woman. Curious — how the times had changed.

The last human she had been with hadn’t paid her nearly this much attention. Maybe this is just Rhett, maybe it’s a new fad. If he lives, perhaps she’ll ask him. She hums, somewhat contentedly, as his nimble fingers work circles on her clit. Still in his jeans and not even asking her to touch him. Truly, curious.

Her reaction isn’t what Rhett is looking for. The soft hums of approval, it’s not enough, it’s not worth the ice-cold fear in his chest. She inhales sharply, a purely symbolic measure, as he turns them both and presses her back into the leather of the truck bench.

He’s got a dirty mouth for a farm boy. Wet, open-mouthed feverish kisses on every inch of skin that he can get his lips on. His trail of filthy kisses continues, his thin nose grazing her sternum as his mouth works towards her navel. His hands are strong and capable, holding her in place by your ribs. As much as she will let him, anyway.

Experienced and well-knowledged about sex by this point in her immortality, she can detect his eagerness in his movements, his desperation to please in the way his tongue moves against her skin. It's sweet. He’s good at it. It’s been a long time since someone has burned for her in the way that this rugged cowboy clearly does.

His hands trail from her hips, up and along her warm sides. Calloused hands roam her flawless skin. Move up and back down again. He revels in the feeling of her under his fingertips, on the tip of his tongue.

She lets the cowboy have his fun. It’s fun for her too, to still be surprised, even after all of this time. It’s not the first time that a man has buried his head between her legs, but it’s the first time that she hasn’t been just waiting for it to be over. Rhett knows what he’s doing. His hands grope at her chest as he sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

She cums, shuddering against his tongue, curling her fingers into his hair, making him hiss. Rhett grins at her as she releases him. There is plenty that she knows about him, but he knows what he did just then.

He’s cocky for someone who’s life is no longer in their own hands, warming up to her too much. This happens frequently. A handsome young man with a troublesome smile, and the wolfish woman ready to tear them apart.

Rhett pops open the buckle on his jeans and pushes them down his thighs. Her eyes burn red, crimson lips quirked at the edges as she spreads her thighs for him. Her hand slides between her legs, two fingers dragging along her folds and gathering her juices on the digits.

“God.” Rhett breathes out, covering her body with his, fingers curling tight into her hips. She smiles into the crook of his neck, kissing the taut skin tenderly, feeling his pulse under her lips.

“He can’t help you now, Rhett.” Her breath fans over his ear as she speaks, making him shudder. Turning his head, she kisses his lips. Slow, longing. Like a goodbye.

He groans softly as he presses into her, the storm raging on outside of the truck, wind slamming cold rain into the windows. Her lips are warm against his throat as she hums softly. Her fingers card through the lengths of his hair and along the muscles in his back.

Rhett rocks his hips back and forth gently — she almost scoffs — he’s concerned about hurting her. “More.” She tells him, her nails digging into his skin. Rhett exhales slowly and drives his hips into her.

To her surprise, he lifts his head to look at her. Studying her face, her reactions to the way that he moves. She moans softly, as he tugs at her hips, angling himself against her g-spot. Rhett’s grip tightens, keeping her there as he fucks into her again and again. This predator, much stronger than he is, completely at his mercy, moaning against his throat.

“You want it?” Rhett mumbles against her skin, grunting softly as he snaps his hips into hers. She gasps back. “Bite me, darlin’ — s’alright.”

She moans, an excited sound as he tugs at the lengths of his brunet hair. “I want it.” She tells him, grazing her teeth, featherlight against the oh, so breakable skin.

The truck is filled with their sounds as she lets another delighted cry out, surprising herself. She pants, squeezing her thighs around his hips. He reminds her so much of someone that she knew. Someone that she misses so dearly. It’s why she didn’t snap his neck out there in the rain. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulls him closer. He looks down between their bodies, watching as his cock fills her over and over.

“I want you, Rhett.” She decides, something primal and possessive in her voice. Her fingertips trail the stubble on his jaw as she tips his chin to look at her. He nods blindly.

“You got me, darlin’.” He kisses her mouth, another filthy little exchange that’s all tongue, moaning and panting. She grins against him, pressing her heel into the small of his back. “Whatever you need.”

Fingers curling around the muscle of his jaw, her strength braces him there, steady. She leans in close and inhales slowly, savouring this delicious scent. Rhett gasps as her teeth sink into his throat, hips stuttering and slamming forwards. She moans at the feeling, blood trickling down her chin.

She grabs desperately at the back of his neck, not wanting to spill a drop, liquid gold on her tongue. Not only because it has been so long, but because it’s him. Rhett’s fingers curl tighter into her hair, struggling to keep up with the pace of his thrusts as his eyes squeeze shut, muscles tensing.

His body’s natural reaction tells him that he is in danger, but danger has never felt this good. It’s like he can feel every ounce of her desire for him, pulsing through his veins when she’s attached to him like this. His arms squeeze around her middle, desperate to have her closer.

She squeezes her legs tighter around his hips, crying out his name in her mind, moaning against his throat. Her fingers curl into those long locks at the nape of his neck, feeling his blood lubricate that excruciating burn in her throat. Her stomach tightens at the thought.

Devotion. Sustaining her like this, fucking her like this — he’s right, he is all hers. Those people back at the house have all already gone to bed without so much as checking if he was alive. He wouldn’t be, if not for her mercy, and his wonderful mouth.

Hers. She licks a stripe along throat, gathering the spilled blood and lifting her chin to kiss his mouth. He accepts her kiss hungrily, sucking at her tongue greedily. Entirely hers. As their lips part, she goes right back to his neck, biting again, feeling her stomach tighten as his hips stutter.

She bites him harder, feeling him tense up, knowing that she’s hurting him. His blood spills freely into her mouth, gushing onto her tongue and out of the corners of her lips.

“Fuck!” Rhett grunts, feeling her walls clenching around him. The honeyed taste of his blood, the sound of his gravelled voice in her ear, the life flowing through his veins. Her back arches up off of the truck bench as she hits the peak of her climax and spills right over it.

There are a few more, erratic, desirous thrusts before the cowboy is spent, spilling into her. Wrapping the monster tight in his arms, forehead braced against her bloodied collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” She smooths her fingers through his hair delicately, licking the last few drops of blood that spill from the teeth marks on his neck. “Rhett.”

He’s dizzy and warm, burning warm, in fact. He squeezes her softly in his arms, closing his eyes for just a moment. He should have expected to be tired, but not like this. It’s like an anaesthetic— he feels sleep come for him and there’s nothing that he can do to fight it.

It crosses his mind briefly that it could be worse than sleep, but he isn’t afraid for it.

“Damn it, Rhett!” The curtains are drawn open sharply, making him flinch. He growls and pulls the covers up over his sensitive eyes. “We’re going to be late for church!”

Cecilia storms out of the room and slams the door behind her. Rhett sits up in his bed and presses the base of his palm into his eye socket, rubbing tiredly. He glances towards the window and squints at the light cascading across the floor, not quite reaching his bed.

He falls back against the comfort of his mattress and exhales slowly. Fucking weird dream. He shifts, hoping to find sleep again, feeling a soft discomfort at the bottom of his throat. Brows furrowing, he swallows and flinches at the white hot pain that passes through his nerves. His brows scrunch as he sits sharply upright again.

He looks towards the window and brings a hand up to cup his throat. His gaze falls down to his boots by the door, caked in mud and bloodied.

…

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delopsia · 6 months

Text

Thinking about all the things Rhett had to deal with while growing up on the Abbott ranch and how his world tips on its head when you come into his life.

He's forever conscious of how Perry was born out of love, and he was born because Royal realized that it would be cheaper to have his kids working than it was to hire help. Poor Cecelia was so blindsided by her baby fever that she didn't realize why Royal went back on his "I only want one kid" statement until after Royal hauled five-year-old Rhett out to work on the ranch for the third day in a row. An entire two years younger than Perry had been when he started working.

And the problem with Royal, is that arguing with him only makes him dig his heels into the dirt, refusing to sway on his decision.

Most of the kids in his school worked and had their responsibilities to help keep the household running, but Rhett was the only one who had to do his homework on the bus because otherwise, he wouldn't have time to do it until he went to bed. Just like he was the only kid to miss every single field trip, because why should he go to the zoo with his class when he could be working with Royal?

He doesn't understand why his dad snaps at him for crying over his injuries but soon comes a time when he doesn't care about the bruises littering his arms. Gets annoyed when Perry cries about crushing his hand. Nothing's broken; there's no reason to get worked up over it.

That exact thinking keeps him quiet the first time he gets hurt bullriding. So focused on chasing the same small-town glory as his father that he doesn't mind the sprained ankle. Getting on again and again because, for a few fleeting seconds, the crowd cheers his name, and the sound of their applause is the thing he's grown to crave.

There was some point when the workload in the house started shifting. When Perry was starting to reach the end of his high school days, started to fight a little harder against Royal's iron fist. And with an explosive temper that nearly dulls Royal's, it only made sense that he started getting his way. Enjoying days off, weekends spent touring colleges, and venturing out into the real world, because of how his explosive demeanor always devolved into threats that shook his momma to her core.

But one less pair of hands on the ranch meant that the others had to take on more work, and with Royal's old bull riding injuries coming back to bite him, Rhett was the only one capable of taking it on. But just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Hiring just one ranch hand would have made all the difference, but the prospect of losing money is something Royal's always disagreed with. Slowly, Rhett's work days grow longer. Dinner time no longer makes the end of his work, having to go back out to finish up while everyone else showers and settles in for the night. Waking up before school to get a head start on chores, hoping he'll be done early tonight.

It never happens. Where he finds free time, Royal finds things he could be doing, and Rhett starts learning that lying about needing to do store runs is the only way he'll get a break.

The way Royal refused to let him and Perry have cellphones until they turned eighteen and could buy them with their own money. The result of a privilege revoked after a thirteen-year-old Perry got caught on his phone at two in the morning ended with a smashed phone and a brutal reminder of where the eldest son gets his anger from.

A rule that was forced to be overturned when Rhett was sixteen. All because something in the west pasture spooked his horse; she'd run him clean over in her attempt to get away from it, and he never saw her coming. He still doesn't remember hitting the ground, but he does recall the splitting ache in his skull when his eyes finally reopened.

With no cell phone, he had no way to call for help, forced to limp home on foot. He didn't get home until after dusk because Royal had written his absence off as teenage rebellion. A hospital visit later, Cecelia went behind her husband's back to buy new phones for both of her boys, but even the justification of keeping her boys safe wasn't enough for Royal. Because Rhett had made it home and was fine at the end of the day.

Then Rhett's eighteen, and he's just barely maintained his grades to graduate. He's got it in his head that he's going to move out, get out of this stuffy old town, and pave his own way, doing something, anything. But now Perry and Rebecca are moving into the house with their daughter, and Rhett's being asked to put off his plans until they get settled in.

He's nineteen when he gives up on trying to leave because something always needs him to stay home a little longer. He's twenty when he figures out why Royal drinks so much beer, gets hooked on the way the bitter liquid makes the ache in his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a while, he's happy. Because you can't remember your sorrows when you're drunk.

Rhett's twenty-one when he can start wandering into bars, and he's twenty-one when he learns that there's a group of girls who come to rodeos, hoping to catch a steamy night with a bull rider, no strings attached. It's strange to kiss a girl you don't know the name of, waking up alone in a hotel bed with hardly any memory of what happened the night before. But for a few splitting seconds, he doesn't feel so alone in this big world, and he's clinging to it with every fiber of his being.

Until that's not enough, either. The scream of the crowd, the electric touch of those pretty girls that cheer his name, no longer make his days easier. Beer quits chasing away the pain in his joints, the prescription painkiller for an old injury in his wrist had might as well be candy, and he can only escape it by blacking out. He doesn't remember getting that DUI, but Officer Joy tells him that he was muttering about how Royal wanted him to chase down a cow that broke through the fence. He's in such rough shape that she intentionally forgets to discharge him, hoping the day of rest will do something to get rid of the bags under his eyes.

She isn't quite sure what to think when she learns that he's practically been running the Abbott ranch for the past few years. Royal always fails to mention his youngest son when he brags about his ranch.

Then you come along.

A fresh new face, one of the only people to move into Wabang rather than out of it because your new job led you all the way out here. It was Sherrif Joy who suggested you visit the Amelia County rodeo once or twice, and you'd only gone because there was nothing else to do. Rhett didn't notice you until Joy came to congratulate him on his ride, with you glued to her side. He hasn't stumbled through a hello in years, but he can hardly get it out of his mouth.

Your face sticks in his head while he works, and God, he doesn't even know your name, but his heart is jumping in his chest when you run into him at the store, time and time again. Until he finally cracks and starts a conversation with you while waiting in line, and somehow that ends in the two of you standing in the parking lot, talking until the store closes. An invitation to get drinks turns into dinner dates, and he's got something to look forward to again.

All of a sudden, you're massaging his overworked hands and cradling his scruffy face like he's made of glass. Whispering about how he needs rest and deserves all the love you shower him with, and he's not sure what to make of that. Can never figure out why his eyes water that first time he lays his head on your chest, listening to the pitter-patter of your heart while you play with his hair.

His momma is the only one whose ever done that; she stopped when he was fourteen.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he loves you. Those words choke in his throat every time he tries to utter them, stifling him into a painful silence that he can't escape. Instead, he does the only thing he knows how to do.

He works.

Replaces the busted locks in your doors, changes the oil in your car, he builds the porch you say you wanted, and he tinkers away at the little household annoyances. You want a fence? He's got it; he just needs to get up earlier to have time to build it. You're telling him that he doesn't have to do all these things for you, but work is the only thing he knows how to do. If he stops, then what else can he give you?

He doesn't understand what you see in him; he's not as energetic and fun as those other rodeo guys who eye you up every time they see you. They have more money, they're stronger, don't have the aches and pains of an old man, and they haven't got the reputation of being the town casanova.

He doesn't understand how you look at him like he's something precious—some priceless thing that deserves the world and more. There will come a day when you realize you deserve better, more than he could ever hope to give you, and he knows it'll break him, but he lets you love on him anyway. Because a few months spent with you is the best thing he could ever ask for, even if you walk away in the end.

But you're not walking away. Fuck, he's probably given you more opportunities than the Lord can count, but for some reason, you stay. And you're spending your first Christmas together, he's buying you too many sweets for Valentine's Day and he's spoiling you on your birthday, only to get confused when you surprise him with cake on his own birthday. Can't remember the last time he blew out candles, only realizes he was supposed to make a wish three days later.

Selfishly, he wishes that you'll be with him forever.

You're taking him to the zoo for one of your dates, and for the first time in his life, he's looking back at a tiger, and it's so, so different from the pictures. There are otters, bears, cheetahs, and wait, wait! Why are there goats in a zoo? Hasn't everyone met a goat before? What's so special about these ones? And how the fuck are giraffes so tall?

Royal says the red-panda plush Rhett hauls home is a waste of money. He could have saved that money to invest in land or a future, but all Rhett can think of is how, when he squeezes it to his chest at night, he can almost deceive himself into thinking it's you instead.

But then comes that big argument; he forgets what its about midway through, because he's realized that this is it. This is when you realize that he can't give you what you deserve. He can't blame you, but that still doesn't stop him from breaking when you walk out to your car.

He doesn't know what the hell to think when he realizes you're in the room with him. Couldn't hear the squeal of the door over the choked noises coming from his own mouth, eyes so clouded with tears that he can't even see you. But he can feel your arms around him, and he doesn't want to hug you out of fear of this being a dream. Yet you're still there, and you're not promising you're never leaving him, and he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand. And it scares him so bad that he shakes with it.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to let go of him because he clings to you with this fear that you've never seen before. Words aren't enough to convince his broken heart that you're not going anywhere, and for the first time since you met him, he talks. Spills every fear and thought he's ever had through his hiccups, confirms your suspicions of how much he hurts, and unveils the sources of his insecurities.

Your big cowboy falls asleep with his face buried in your neck, and he's still there when you wake up. It's the third time he's stayed in bed and didn't go to work, but it's the first time he's chosen to stay. Usually, it's a physical injury that forces him to stay down, but this is an injury you can't see. A fracture in who he is, broken after a lifetime of increasing pressure that he never stood a chance against.

He follows you into the kitchen, no longer trying to conceal the limp in his left foot as he tries his best to help you cook breakfast. You don't know where his appetite came from, but you've never seen him meekly ask if he can make himself more fried eggs.

It's only after that he remembers the argument about how you got a job offer that would take you a few states away. Out of Wyoming and away from him. But it's your dream job, and it hurts to see Rhett's bottom lip wobble as he weakly tells you to go for it. Dreams come first, after all.

Like many things, he doesn't know what to think when you tell him your dream has changed. You want him to come with you. Leave this flyover town, find a job that doesn't ask the world of him, and share a cute little house with you somewhere in the countryside. He doesn't get why you'd want it with him, but fuck if that isn't the one thing he's always wanted.

Royal thinks that Rhett's lighter attitude is because of his recent decision to move in with you. Cecelia already knows what Rhett's up to without needing to be told.

It takes a year for you to move. Just after you lock your front door for the last time, Cecelia's car appears in the driveway. Neither of you can figure out how she knew you two were moving out today, but she's brought a box of things that her youngest deserves to have. Pictures, his first belt buckle, that first cellphone that got drowned in the kitchen sink, and a freshly knitted blanket. A housewarming gift. She says it's good luck for a couple to have one and to not hesitate to call if you need anything.

That blanket sits on the back of the couch in your new living room. Rhett only curls up with it when he's feeling homesick, which had might as well be the entirety of the first six months in this new house. He finds a job at a local ranch, is lucky enough to have his beloved horse shipped out to stay there, and slowly, his true colors start to bleed through.

Or maybe they were always there, simply dulled by the exhaustion that once seemed to permanently sit in his weary bones.

Because his smile reaches his eyes more often, and his prescription painkillers have long since expired. His body a touch softer, the result of a rediscovered appetite, and he reaches for you more than he does a can of beer. Gripings about his father are replaced by laughter that echoes down the hall. He's still got that limp, but he chases you up the stairs quicker than he used to. Those gaudy belt buckles never leave, and never do you. Always there when he comes home from work, ready to meet him for his favorite welcome-home kiss.

Rhett will never be the son Royal asked for, but he will always be the man you've dreamed of.

And he's more than enough.

#rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's warmups #delgato's thinking #tw food #tw alcohol

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