#outer range fan fiction

[attapullman]

That Abbott Boy | Rhett Abbott

GIF by delopsia

Summary: You and Rhett have stayed in each other's orbit since you were children. But what if there's something more than just friends?

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings & Notes: Rhett Abbott x f!reader, brief mentions of underage drinking and violence, fluffy and angsty (?), childhood friends, Rhett's the town whore and likes boobs, bad mouthin' Perry Abbott, destruction of pinatas, 18+ as always. Happy Halloween, witches! You can play your tricks, but here's your treat!

Children flooded the barn, your daddy’s ranch overtaken by sugar-hyped little hands and giggles as your classmates pet the horses and pretend to drink from the trough. Set up outside were balloons and presents, marking the momentous occasion of your birthday. The sun shines bright upon your cheeks as another year blesses you.

Your ma wrangles the hyperactive group and announces the piñata. A cheap, store-bought thing, meant to resemble a puppy dog but failing. Your classmates scramble to line up, eager to be the one who breaks open the winnings of more sugar. And as you turn to lead the battle, you see that Abbott boy.

Rhett. Cerulean eyes hidden under his baseball cap. That thin smile that says more than his mouth ever does. With only a decade of life under his belt, he comes across like there’s more layers to him than anyone could know. He’s affectionately stroking his hand along the nose of your mare, soothing her after too many grabby fingers. Too distracted by his care to notice everyone else has left the barn.

“You coming?” Your voice is small in the old building. His gaze snaps to you from his thoughts, running his hand along the horse’s flank before following you outside. You’re accurately aware of him trailing behind you. His heavy footfalls into the dusty ground. A dusty rose spreading along his cheeks when your eyes accidentally meet.

Joining the group and taking your rightful place at the front of the line, your ma wraps a bandana around your eyes and twists you twice. Orientation lost as hands straighten your shoulders toward the misshapen papier mâche. The burden of embarrassing yourself overwhelms your small frame, but you swing with purpose. You’re the birthday girl and you will knock it down!

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Miss.

Rules dictate your turn is over and you hand the blindfold and bat over to the next child in line. Swing. Miss. Swing. Hit. It’s a compilation of hits and misses as the line dwindles. Next to bat is Rhett. You give him a small smile as he steps up. He takes the wood between his hands, shoulders squaring to the challenge as he runs his fists over the woodgrain. His eyes are focused, a boy with only one goal.

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Hit! A bit of paper dislodges from multiple blows and a few treats fall to the ground. The next kid in line holds their hand out expectantly for the bat. But that Abbott boy has other plans.

Thwack. Thwack. Two more hits directly to the piñata, splitting it and upending every sweet in its arsenal. Children flock to the ground as they pick up as many as possible. Rhett’s face is proud - the winner of the arbitrary game - and he bends to pick up a chocolate.

The kid not picking up candy? You. A slow heat rises from your chest and the tips of your ears flood a rosy color. How dare he cheat! On your birthday! Squaring your shoulders, your ma catches you quickly. She knows your temper. Gives you a shake of her head and advises you to spend your energy on other ventures.

“That Abbott boy is gonna be trouble, just you wait and see.”

_____________________________________________________________                                                                                        

The church is stifling, holding the hot July air hostage. Sunday best sticks to sweaty skin. Programs are used as makeshift fans to create a breeze. The preacher drones into the still air that threatens to choke the life from this joyous union.

How Perry Abbott found someone to marry him is beyond you. Aloof one moment, violent the next. You saw what he did to Trevor Tillerson at the skating rink all those years ago. His brother may be a piñata cheater, but Perry was actual bad news. This poor blonde woman must be missing some grey matter to think this was a good idea. 

The preacher finally starts saying words you recognize (“Do you take this man…”)  and the church doors open as Perry kisses his bride. The wash of fresh air clears your head and allows you to be happy for the couple. Love is in the air!

At the reception you mingle with a few girls from class. Only a year until you escape this hellhole. Wabang is nothing but girls turning into their God-fearing mothers and boys becoming their drunken cowboy fathers. Before you’ve hit drinking age most of them will be married, taking over their families homesteads and pushing out children. You’re not even eighteen and yet this is the dream floating through every classmates mind. Your skin crawls at the idea of settling down with someone like a Tillerson.

Food and dancing is outside - thankfully - and various members of the community are congratulating the newlyweds. Your own parents are wrapped in conversation with the sheriff and your neighbors. Land disputes are as frequent as phone bills here. A classmate asks if you’re going to the ol’ back roads that evening. Wink wink. You barely begin to answer her when a laugh carries over from the church, a group of high school boys leaning against the cracked siding, swigging from smuggled beers over quiet conversation.

You catch Rhett Abbott’s eye. He smirks back over the lip of his bottle, a twinkle in his eye. Good money could be bet that he’s been drinking since this damn service began. He draws the bottle away and holds a finger to his lips, his smile quirked to the right as he asks you to keep his secret. As if you’d ever tell. 

His eye slips into a wink. God, he is such a flirt.

Since that fateful piñata day, you and Rhett have stayed in the same orbit. Although, while you’ve remained studios with your head down to ensure an easy exit from the town, he seems to always be mixed in something. Too many nights at the ol’ back roads, scrapes from roughhousing with friends, more than one girl making insinuations the next morning in the girls restroom. But that Abbott boy has always been good to you. A tip of his cap when he walks by you in town, feed sack in hand. That slow smile when he returns the pencil you dropped in class. Last fall the two of you had spent the afternoon sprawled in the sunshine behind the school, skipping out on government because the government can go fuck itself. And it was too nice a day to be cooped up in a concrete building.

Your friendship was easy. Rhett soothed the tension in your brain, that drawl of his like music as he went on about ranch work and dreams of riding bulls one day like his dad. You were going to miss him when you left. 

Your head shakes to indicate silly boy and you return his naughty grin so he knows he’s still in your good graces. He turns back to the group, and you miss him looking back at you when you join your parents.

______________________________________________________________

Staring out from behind the curtain, you see your parents and other relatives of your family sat near the front of the audience. Holy hell, this is real.

You’ve been dreaming of high school graduation since the day Wabang lost its appeal. That printed diploma claiming that you paid your dues in this town and the world is your oyster now. 

The dinky auditorium they held graduation in each year was filled with the sound of chairs scraping and families clapping each other on the back for their children’s newest accomplishment. Behind you, your graduating class is alive with nervous titters.

A hand slides across your waist, high enough to not raise question, and Rhett peeps his head next to yours. His newly grown stubble is neater than usual, and his curls are actually combed. You lift a hand to smooth the collar of the shirt that’s crumpled under his graduation robe. You’re so proud of him for making it here.

You follow his eyes and catch where his family is sitting. Royal and Cecelia both deep in conversation with their neighbors, Perry and his little family occupied in their own bubble. What’s the daughter’s name again? Ashley? Anna? Amy? You don’t worry too much, she’ll come up soon enough in conversation with Rhett. Not even two and she’s the center of their household. He adores her.

The two of you share a smile as you acknowledge the moment. So many of your shared dreams have centered around this day and what it means. Finally leaving this godforsaken town. His eyes twinkle with the promise of leaving his family behind. That Abbott boy is finally going to make his own path. You’re so fucking proud.

A microphone crackles. The ceremony is commencing. Rhett squeezes your hip excitedly before finding his spot at the front of the line. Let the beginning of your lives begin.

______________________________________________________________

The door squeaks open, letting a blast of icy air flood the bar. Patrons let out their individual noises of complaint. The Handsome Gambler fills with more bodies, huddling around booths as holiday greetings are exchanged. Yet another Christmas in Amelia County. You’ve avoided the town the last few years, but when your roommate’s parents took a last-minute cruise she begged you for a “traditional cowboy Christmas”. She had been disappointed that your parent’s ranch didn’t look out of a House Beautiful spread.

She’s delighted by The Handsome Gambler though. The “quaint” charm as sun-beaten men drink their Jameson and Rainier. You’ve already seen several people you know, raising your chin in hello. 

But it’s the one face that hasn’t returned your greeting that plagues your mind. Sat beside a buckle bunny blonde who cannot keep her hands off his arms - Do you blame her? That ranch is doing everyone favors - and you can’t seem to catch his eye. You haven’t seen him since your final goodbye three years prior, your daddy’s truck full with your things. 

You’ve heard about him though. One of your parents always has something to say about that Abbott boy. 

Ridin’ bulls like his ol’ man. Pretty damn good too.

Seen him with half the girls in town. He’s gon’ get one of ‘em pregnant if he don’t watch out.

Always in a brawl, limpin’ around town. Never know if it’s a bull or person throwing the punches.

No one ever talks about how Rhett still lives at home, in his plaid bedroom at the end of the hall. Never making it out of Wabang like he so desperately wanted.

You glance over one last time. His head ducks down. What happened to him?

______________________________________________________________

That next summer you get stuck in Wabang when your car won’t start after visiting your parents. The mechanic in town gives you a week minimum for the part to come in. Theresa at the library offers you a few shifts of your high school job, something to pass the time until you can get to your real job a few hours away.

The last few days have been pleasant, mostly elders in the community and the odd teenager whose homestead doesn’t have dial-up. The monotony of checking in battered paperbacks feels good. When you had a moment you spruced up the children’s display with summer books you had enjoyed as a child. 

“H’ya.” The distantly familiar voice startles you. Your heart thumps against your chest as your gaze raises to two wide blue eyes and a sheepish smile. “D’nt mean to startle ya.”

Next to him is Amy, nearly as tall as the stack of books she’s carrying. She’s participating in the daily summer program led by Theresa. Every day this week a member of her family has dropped by to pick her up, stopping by to inquire about your folks or your life away. Your mouth goes dry after so long away from the presence of that Abbott boy.

You go along scanning Amy’s books, listening to her prattle on about this and that. She’s an inventive kid, the stories are never dull. Rhett keeps rubbing the back of his neck, that strong bicep hidden underneath a shirt stained with pasture mud. You suppress the urge to tuck an unruly strand back into his cap. But that privilege died years ago.

The two leave with a polite goodbye and your head is reeling. Especially the next morning when Amy strides through the library doors chattering excitedly, her uncle on her heels balancing two coffees. Dropping her off with the other kids with a tap of his elbow. You make yourself busy arranging a shelf when he turns toward you.

He slides the styrofoam cup toward you. You can smell the cinnamon, exactly how you take it. 

“S’for you.” A tension breaks between you two as you accept the coffee, tentatively raising it before enjoying that first sip. Your lips curl in a smile as that warm feeling envelopes your entire being. 

“Thanks. How’d you know I’d want a coffee?” While you know the answer is because he’s thoughtful, he mumbles something about Amy and his mother and a barista. Your smile lets him know that you’re thankful regardless of the reason. 

There’s so many things you want to ask him. What is his life like? Is bull riding everything he imagined it to be? Why didn’t he leave Wabang?

But before you can launch into that conversation, he’s excusing himself back to the ranch, Carhartt jacket out the door before you can ask if he wants to grab a drink later.

Every morning as Amy walks in for the summer program, Rhett trails behind her. A coffee in each hand. Drops it off without any explanation, just a smile so hard to read it plagues your mind. 

This goes on until the part for your car finally comes and you can leave this town - and the people in it - behind you.

______________________________________________________________

You’re running late. Another Wabang wedding that has eaten up your weekend with the drive you loathe. There’s a pair of heels and a lipstick in your glovebox for “emergencies” after forgetting and wearing your dusty work boots and a slip dress at the last one. The “Entering Amelia County” sign whips by as you toe the speed limit.

Pulling into the church lot, you’re thankfully not too late. You slip into the back and hope your parents don’t notice, but you’re easy to miss amongst the ten gallon hats.

Vows exchanged. Preacher preaches. A kiss to top it off. And now you’re back where you were ten years previous, standing to the side of the dance floor catching up with classmates while Rhett Abbott drinks a beer leaning against the church.

The biggest difference is that he’s a man now. He’s no longer that Abbott boy. All sinful broad shoulders and muscle from hours of labor. Skin tanned and scarred from sun exposure and barbed fences. That damn brace on the hand not nursing a beer. And instead of cracking jokes with the other twentysomething cowboys, his focus is solely on you.

Neither of you makes a move to connect, letting your gazes linger as you stay with your respective parties. The afternoon fades into dusk. The string lights at the edge of the reception area come to life, offering an amber glow to the increasingly drunken crowd. Even you have enjoyed more than your fair share of whiskey. When the ol’ timers leave, the festivities really begin.

“Care t’dance?” He’s drunk, sliding up behind you smelling of leather, malt, and cinnamon. You know he has three left feet, but when those warm hands wrap around your waist, any worries about your toes promptly disappear.

He’s intoxicatingly close. You’ve never been this close, touched this much. Just quick hip squeezes and the occasional shoulder push, the odd side hug after high school afternoons sitting amongst the grass. At this distance you can see that his eyes have dark spots of indigo. That one eyebrow dips lower than the other. At this distance you fully realize how attracted to him you are.

Rhett’s always been a friend, nothing more. Someone who shared the dream to leave. Another animal lover. The piñata cheater who ruined your tenth birthday. So why did he smile always make you heart flutter?

His dancing is as bad as anticipated. He steps on your toes every few steps, muttering “S’ry” each time. Eventually succeeds to just swaying back and forth, letting you take the lead. His blush feels like a reward, your favorite bashful cowboy.

The music slows to a hauntingly sweet melody and you allow your head to fall to his chest, already missing watching his beautiful face. There’s a wall between you two, unspoken and heavy. It weighs on your chest. Where are the words to express what you’re thinking?

Before you can summon the words - the courage? - to say what you want, the song ends. Panic floods you. And you’ve always been one to choose flight over fight. An excuse tumbles from your lips and suddenly you’re fleeing the makeshift dance floor as quickly as those godforsaken heels will allow. 

The blood is rushing in your ears, too loud to hear your name called out behind you. The church is too full of partygoers. Your feet turn toward your car and the solace it provides. 

He catches up to you in the parking lot, his legs longer and faster. Takes the creamy white Stetson off his head while he catches his breath. He didn’t realize you were so fast. 

The two of you are suddenly alone for the first time in years, no distractions  to disrupt the brewing emotions. Your back to the driver’s seat door, eyes alight with confusion. Him towering over you with the kindest expression painted over his features.

“Why’d’you run?”

His breath washes over you, warm and comforting. Every instinct tells you to run, to get away from the rush of emotion consuming your soul that has been building for a decade. But then…fingers intertwine with your own, a soothing thumb over your palm. You’re reminded he’s still that Abbott boy, smelling like trouble but gentle as the prairie grass. You have no need to worry about being vulnerable with him.

A deep breath shudders through you. You break eye contact to answer his question. “Got a little too wrapped up in the moment and forgot I’m not one of your buckle bunnies.” 

He lets out a hesitant laugh. Hands released as he cups your chin to look into your eyes. Such pretty eyes.

“I’d trade every one of ‘em for a moment with you.” It’s silent as both your breaths cease, his heartbeat vibrating between you. Your eyes plead for more reassurance, more proof that you’re more than another conquest for a man with too many trophies. He licks his lips. “You remember that piñata?”

You nod. Hard to forget being that mad.

“S’ry for cheatin’. I wanted t’be the one t’get the candy out. Impress ya, show I was the best.” He chuckles. “I’m s’stupid. You like rules. And probably wanted the candy yerself. Surprised ya didn’t kick my ass.”

“I wanted to.” Another low laugh escapes his lips.

“Figured you’d want nothin’ to do wit’me and was good with it for a while, but the summer you grew tits? Came back t’school and nearly passed out. So self-conscious and kept coverin‘em. Wanted to smack your arm, I couldn’t look away. Luke Tillerson brought ‘em up on the way home ’n I punched ‘im in the jaw. That’s when I knew I liked ya. Wanted you to be mine.”

That dirty cowboy. Naughty smiles exchange as you both glance down at your chest, much more developed and pushed up thanks to underwire. He blinks hard to clear his mind.

“When you left, figured t’was time to move on. Beat myself up for never gettin’ the courage to leave too.” Your hand slides up his forearm, sharing comfort for such a raw nerve. He smiles his thanks and runs his own hand up your arm, resting a thumb on your shoulder. “Thought maybe y’were back perm’nently when I saw ya a’the library.”

“It was just until my car was fixed.”

“Know that now. But a guy can dream, right?” The wall has completely crumbled now, your bodies close, breaths intermingling. Your mouth opens to speak, to fill the space.

The words are stopped by a warm cowboy mouth fitting over yours. 

The stars align. Planets shift. The cars leaving the party around you fade into the distance. All that remains is Rhett and everything he offers.

Maybe Wabang is worth it after all.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhettt abbott fan fiction #rhettt abbott fic #outer range fan fiction #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott

[topguncortez]

Not Dead Until You're Warm and Dead || Whumptober day 7 - R. Abbott

whumtpober masterlist || whumtpober taglist form

synopsis: Your and Rhett's relationship had been anything but easy between bull riding and lies. But you had hoped that you would be enough for him to come back alive.

word count: 2.8k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: flatline

warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, death, character death, allusion of suicide.

When Rhett first laid eyes on Y/N, he knew she was the one for him. He had missed his chance with Maria, holding back on his feelings and letting her walk out of his life. But when he saw her standing on the fence line as he lowered himself onto his bull, he knew that she was going to be his wife. He held on for his life, lasting the whole eight seconds, and impressing her. The boost of confidence from the ride was what he needed to go over and talk to her. Her cheeks turned red as he invited her for a dance, telling him that she couldn’t dance to save her life, but he assured her that it was okay. He had kissed her that night. 

After that night, Y/N basically disappeared. She was nowhere to be found and it seemed like no one really knew who she was. Rhett had asked around town, asking pretty much everyone where the y/h/c girl went and who she was. It had dawned on Rhett, he never got her name. When Rhett was ready to give up, throwing in the towel that she was just a one-night stand sort of girl (even though they didn’t hook up) he received a call from an unknown number. 

“Hello?” He asked, creasing his eyebrows. 

“Rhett Abbott,” Her voice was like honey, and Rhett chuckled to himself. 

“How did you get my number but I never even got your name?” 

“I asked a friend,” She smiled. 

“I asked a friend about you, but it seems like you are just some figure of my imagination.” 

“I can assure you that I am not.”

They had talked for hours on the phone after Y/N had explained who she was. She was originally from Amelia County, but as soon as she graduated high school, she packed her bags and went to the coast. She would occasionally fly back to Wyoming, the last time she flew back was to watch her little brother ride against Rhett. Neither one had noticed the sunset, the moon rising in the sky, or the first strands of the orange morning sun. Rhett woke up to his alarm clock and looked down at his phone to notice that he was still on the line with her. He smiled to himself and whispered ‘sweet dreams darlin’’ before hanging up. 

And that’s how it went for weeks. He would call Y/N after dinner and they would talk for hours about everything under the sun. He learned that she was studying to be a nurse, in her third year at USC. Y/N learned that Rhett had made it to the finals, and she was already looking at flights to come watch him. Rhett rode one of his best rides when he noticed her smile in the stands during the finals. He focused on her the whole time, and the second he heard that buzzer go off, his mind was locked on finding her. The next morning they found themselves wrapped up in each other's arms. 

They continued their relationship long distance for about two years until she graduated college. Rhett had saved up his rodeo money packed up his truck and headed out west. He stuck out like a sore thumb as he walked around campus in his levis and blue flannel. He was going over in his head what he was going to say to her. The last time he had seen her was over six months ago when she had flown home for Thanksgiving. Rhett was going to propose to her, he had already asked her dad for her hand in marriage. He easily found her dorm room and waited on the bench until she came out. 

“Why look at what we have here? You lost Cowboy?” Y/N asked as she walked out the door. Rhett stood up, holding the bouquet of carnations in his hands.

“Slightly,” Rhett said with his usual half smile, “For you,” 

“Thank you, love,” Y/N took the flowers, and then placed her hand on his face and brought him in for a kiss. 

Their date went off without a hitch, Rhett taking her to a lookout spot that he had heard about. He laid some blankets down in the back of his truck and shared the sandwiches and stuff he had prepared. She talked about her final days at university and how she got a good job at the children’s hospital nearby. Rhett told her about how he had finally gotten away from his family, and Y/N was shocked. She never thought she’d see the day when Rhett Abbott left his family’s ranch, but here he was. He took her to the one-bedroom apartment he got which was covered in boxes. He tucked his shaking hands in his pockets as Y/N walked around the small place and explored. 

“Rhett this place is- what are you doing?” 

“I’m proposing,” Rhett said, as he was down on one knee with the ring box in his hand. 

“I know, why?” 

“Because I love you enough that I want to be with you forever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” 

“Yeah, yes! Yes!” 

Rhett placed the ring on her finger and held her tightly in his arms. He made love to her for hours that night, trying to make their bodies as close as possible. They felt as if they had truly become one, their hearts, minds, and souls. 

Their wedding was small, held back home in Wabang. Perry and Royal had worked hard to clean up one of the barns so they could have a reception out there. It was no secret to Royal that he wasn’t thrilled about the wedding and his youngest son fleeing out west. He had hoped that Rhett would take over the ranch when Royal couldn’t do it anymore. Perry was happy to see his brother finally settle down and had hoped that this would stick. Cecilia was also happy to have another daughter in the family. The two of them seemed very fairytale-like as Rhett held his new wife close to his chest as they swayed on the dance floor. But the honeymoon feeling came crashing down quickly. 

Their first fight had been an ugly one, over Rhett’s drinking. Years of riding bulls and popping painkillers had become a second nature to him, something he quite couldn’t let go of. Rhett had found a farm to work as an extra hand, but it was quite enough for him. He thought when he left Wabang and chased after the woman he loved that it would be enough. Having her be his, his own Mrs. Abbott, would be everything he had ever dreamed of, and it was. But he fell back into his old ways. Y/N would get pissed as he’d stumble in at odd hours of the night as she was trying to sleep before her early morning shifts. She had finally had enough of it. 

“Jesus Christ Rhett,” Y/N cursed under her breath as she looked at the drunk man who had just knocked over something, “Why do you constantly do this shit.” 

“Do what? I’m too fucking drunk to do this shit with you right now.” Rhett slurred. 

“Well Rhett! The hell do you expect!? This is the fourth night in a row you have come home completely trashed. You keep doing this shit, enough is enough,” Y/N yelled. 

“What do you mean?” Rhett sobered up as she climbed out of bed, and grabbed a bag from her closet, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving.” 

“No, baby please, I’m sorry,” Rhett grabbed her hands to try and stop her, “Please, you can’t leave me,” Rhett’s voice cracked, “You’re all I have. I left everything behind to be with you. I have nothing.”  

“I never asked you to do that,” She bit back tears. 

“I know, baby, please don’t leave me.” 

And she didn’t. She stayed by his side, even when he told her that he was going back to riding. She was actually proud of him for getting back on the bull. He had done his best to stay away from the temptation of the old life; the booze, the pills, the pussy. But old habits die hard. His body was older now, taking rougher beatings when he would get bucked off. He would have a simple celebratory drink with the guys after the rodeos. Rhett found himself out later at night, coming home to a quiet house with his wife at work. Their schedules hardly ever matched up. He got bored of using his hand in the shower, and he could hardly remember the last time he and his wife made love. 

He didn’t fuck them at first. He’d only let them suck him off before a ride, releasing the tension. But that only did so much. The rodeo hands seemed to look the other way when it came to his infidelity. He’d fuck the no-name buckle bunny before the ride, not bothering to learn their names or even show them an ounce of respect. He saw them as playthings to fill the void he was missing from his wife. He thought he was good at hiding it, but Y/N had always been smart. 

She knew that he was hiding something from him. She could tell in the way he wouldn’t touch her, his kisses were just pecks, and he avoided looking into her eyes. Y/N had even seen it with her own eyes at one of his rides. She had gotten the night off of work last minute and decided to surprise him. The whole crew seemed to act weird and barely paid her any attention as she walked through the trailers to find him. The smile ran away from her face the second she saw him walk out of his trailer, fixing his belt, and a bombshell blonde walking out behind him. Y/N felt her heart break as she leaned against the side of the trailer away from his eyes. 

Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Rhett heard the sounds of someone retching and walked around the side to see his wife. His eyes widened as he ran over to her, and moved her hair back. 

“No!” Y/N cried and pushed his hands off of her. 

“Baby, you’re sick, let me-” 

“Get the fuck away from me!” She yelled and Rhett stepped back in shock, “Fuck you, Rhett! I saw you! How could you?” 

“Babe I’m-” 

“Your shit will be in the driveway.” 

Rhett had come home that night to exactly what she said, his stuff in the driveway, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. So he sat outside the front door and waited for her. Y/N felt bad when she saw him in the morning and let him in. She ignored him the best she possibly could, but it was hard to do. Rhett could hear her break down while she was in the bathroom and it made him shed a tear himself. He sat on their bed and waited for her to come out of the shower, he could see the dried tear stains on her cheeks. 

“I promise you, I’ll never ride again. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

And he had stayed true to his word. He had told his dad over the phone that he had officially given up riding. That he and Y/N had decided to start trying for a family. Rhett didn’t want to spend his time away from his family or worse, like some of the legends in Bull Riding, dead or gravely injured. Rhett had stayed away from the rodeo life for about six months. And in those six months, Y/N and he worked on their marriage. They went to therapy, talking out their transgression and disagreements. They got back to the basics, bringing back romance into their lives; going on dates and trips. They had some of the best sex they had in years. They had both seemed to forget what had happened six months ago until he got that call from Royal. 

“I told her I wasn’t going to ride,” Rhett whispered as he stood in the kitchen. He was making breakfast for Y/N, after a busy night of lovemaking. 

“We’re in danger of going bankrupt, we need this,” Royal said, “We can’t lose the farm.” 

“There’s nothing you can do?” Rhett ran a hand down his face. 

“You know I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if there was,” 

“Fine,” Rhett said, “When is the ride?” 

“Three days.” 

“Three fucking days?! That’s our anniversary.” 

“I’m sorry Rhett.” 

“I gotta go, she’ll be up soon.” 

Rhett had gone to the rodeo by himself, it didn’t bother him, he was used to going by himself. It did make him a little upset that she didn’t even bother to come with him. He stood in the waiting area as he waited for the name of the bull he would be riding. The second he was given the bull, he knew it was a lost cause. The bull was impossible, no one had been successful in completing a ride. His team gave him a pat on the back and Rhett gave them a shy smile. The first person he had called was her. 

“Is there anything you can do?” Y/N asked. She was sitting on the back porch of their house, looking out at the waves as they crashed on the sand. 

“You know how these things go,” Rhett said as he leaned up against the side of his trailer. 

“I don’t like this Rhett,” She said honestly. Silent tears were running down her face. 

Rhett could hear the sadness in her voice, and could only picture the tears running down her face as she looked out at the setting sun, “I know you don’t. But I promise, I’ll come home to you.” 

“You fucking better Mr. Abbott,” She sniffed and wiped her tears away. 

“I will, Mrs. Abbott,” He smiled back, “I gotta go okay, I promise I’ll call you right after.” 

“I love you Rhett.” 

“I love you Y/N.” 

She had watched the clock, as she settled down in a chair in front of the fireplace. The class of whisky was cold in her hands as she counted down the seconds until Rhett’s ride. Rhett said a small prayer as he walked up the metal steps towards the bullpen. The crowd was going wild as he waved his hand and greeted his team. They helped him down on the bull, and it already was bucking the second Rhett put his weight on the animal. Once it settled, Rhett tied the rope around his hand, making sure he had a tight grip on it. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, seeing glimpses of his future life with Y/N, a few kids, and a beautiful house back home on the Abbott Ranch. Rhett opened his eyes the second they opened the gate. It didn’t last long until a consuming darkness filled his eyes once again. 

Time seemed to tick on slowly, and her eyes never left the clock as she waited for the call from Rhett. Assuming from the time it had taken from the ride until now, that it hadn’t gone well. Everyone in the community knew that the bull Rhett had was a troublesome one. It was known for bucking off its riders in the first couple seconds. The second her phone rang, she picked it up. His name hadn’t even slipped past her lips when his team manager told her what had happened. Her heart was shattered in her chest as she dropped the phone on the carpet. Her knees shook as she collapsed to the ground screaming out his name. 

Her eyes were blurred with tears and her head was spinning as she pushed herself up from the carpet. Her phone was still on the line and they could hear her screaming for him. She walked out into the sand, her chest felt on fire as she let out loud sobs. She didn’t stop as her feet hit the wet sand from the waves. The further she walked into the water, her clothing felt heavier and heavier. The waves would crash and pull her underwater. She fought to keep herself above the surface, keeping her lungs inflated with air. The saltiness of water strung her eyes as the waves hit her. She looked up at the sky, looking at the stars and feeling the heaviness in her heart. She felt her feet leave the ground and she took a deep breath, as she felt a wave pull her completely under. 

In the black abyss she had fallen into, she could see the man she had always wanted. Rhett stood there waiting for her, his hand outstretched. She smiled at him as she placed her hand in his. He placed a hand on her cheek, brushing the tear from her cheek. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. 

“I told you I would come home,” Rhett said. 

“I know you did,” She spoke to him.

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17 @cornylovers

#outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range imagine #outer range fan fiction #outer range angst #Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x you #Rhett abbott x y/n #Rhett abbott angst #ailesswhumptober #g's whumptober

[basiccortez]

Goodnight, Baby - R. Abbott

note: just a cute little Rhett moment. It's actually from a prompts list called 50 wordlesss ways to say 'I love you' and I am tempted to bring it back again. . . also, my requests on this blog are open! read the pinned post for questions:) word count: 630 Rhett Abbott Masterlist

Rhett sighed as he walked into the house, quietly kicking off his boots. It had been a long day of working out in the hot sun, moving cattle and fixing the broken fence on the Abbott Ranch. He had sent you a text telling you not to wait up, that he would be home late. He hated not being home for dinner, or getting ready for bed. It sucked when it was just the two of you, now that there was a baby in the mix.

Jude Elliot Abbott had turned one a couple months, and Rhett felt like he had missed most of his life already. There were milestones that Rhett had missed due to being on the road for competitions or moving cattle. He hated it. You had told him over and over again that it was okay, that Jude wouldn’t even know the difference if Rhett was there or not. It still didn’t help Rhett feel any better. 

He moved around the kitchen quietly as he warmed up the plate of food you had left for him. He smiled at the new picture on the fridge that looked like Jude had drawn at daycare. The front of their fridge had become covered in pictures of Jude and them, pictures Jude had scribbled at daycare, or projects they had him do. Rhett cherished every single picture like it was a masterpiece.

When Rhett was done eating, he walked up the stairs quietly, looking at the various family pictures that littered the walls as he walked to the bedroom. He smiled at your sleeping frame as he moved around in the half lit room, taking off his clothes and putting on something more comfortable. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and hung up the wet towels that you left on the floor after Jude’s bath. He walked over to you, and gently ran his hand over your hair, and leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

You moved slightly at the feeling of his body, and gave him a sleepy smile, “Mm, welcome home.” 

“Hi,” Rhett whispered and leaned back down to kiss your lips, “How was your day?” 

“Good. Jude drew a new picture at daycare.” 

“I saw. Might need him to draw my new base drum cover.” 

You let out a tired chuckle, “You eat?” 

“Yeah,” Rhett nodded, “Go back to sleep, I’m gonna go check on our boy,” You nodded and Rhett kissed your lips once more  before he walked down the hallway to his little boy’s room. 

His heart felt warm as he walked into the room, and could see his son’s sleeping face, with his thumb tucked into his mouth. Jude was fast asleep on his back, small little sighs leaving his mouth as he slept. Rhett crept over to his crib, leaning over it as he watched the little boy sleep soundly. He watched his chest rise and fall, still scared that he was going to have a lapse in breathing. Jude had finally grown out of his sleep apnea, but it didn’t stop Rhett from still being worried about it. 

Rhett sighed and leaned his head on his arms, closing them for a second when he heard Jude stir. Rhett picked his head up quickly and watched as the little boy moved around, readjusting to get more comfortable, and shifting the soft blanket that covered him. Once Jude was settled back into sleep, a deep sigh leaving his mouth, Rhett fixed the baby blanket, slightly tucking him back in. Rhett gently patted the back of his head, feeling his soft brown curls, and then leaned in to kiss his head. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Rhett said, and left the room to go lay down next to his wife.

-- -- --

taglist: @dhwanishah09 @callsign-phoenix @wannabeddiesgirl @sweetlittlegingy @gretasmokerising @the-winter-marvel33 @callsign-blue @lewispthings @nobody7102 @maria-allegra @severewobblerlightdragon @bradshawswife @thedaredevilsgirl @berry-blueberry @tallrock35 @eyes-capone @operation-spot @wkndwlff @downinroma @xoxabs88xox @whateverbagman @rhettabbotts @lt-natrace @lt-bradshaw @sebsxphia

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#Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x you #Rhett abbott x y/n #outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range fan fiction #outer range imagine

[undiscovered-horizon]

<I do not condone two adults riding a horse, it's dangerous.>

Imagine Rhett taking you for horse rides.

You knew you were going to experience some serious thigh soreness the next day when you got on that horse with only a saddle blanket separating you from the sable gelding. But you had a good reason to stay glued to Rhett's back for the next hour or two, so it was all worth it in the end.

The conversation wasn't going too well in the sense that it was majorly dismembered - questions unanswered or answered after a significant amount of time, reflections or memories shared without context or connection to the previous subject. Truthfully, both of you were busy thinking about other things: Rhett couldn't keep his mind off the feeling of your hands wrapped around his torso and you were a little too focused on your arms holding onto Rhett and the wonderful views spreading across the horizon. A pang of jealousy struck your heart - Rhett Abbott got to see the picturesque panoramas any time he wanted, he practically grew up staring at them.

Rhett halted the horse when you had found yourselves on a low hill, staring at the mighty mountains looming in the distance - blue and unclear as was the water inside a delirious man's oasis. The mountain chain seemed to be unending, spreading from West to East only to disappear beyond the horizon, threatening that their wall is unending. The pine trees looked so small this far away, nothing beyond moss green toothpicks that melted into one puddle of wilderness that begged to not be left uncharted. Then there were the fields, wide acres of golden and green grass, their arises long and untamed, intertwining with wildflowers and herbs. It seemed as if you could run through those fields of untouched beauty and scream your lungs out into the sky, while Mother Nature would remain greatly unbothered. The view was so very lonely but also divinely heartening - that a human might be alone in the world but as they are part of the miracle of nature, they can never quite be lonely.

"This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," you said quietly. Looking over his shoulder, Rhett saw the fascination painted on your face. Although his heart forgot its usual rhythm while he admired your own admiration, the man himself couldn't pinpoint the reason for the sudden hot flash that spread under his skin.

"Maybe I should get you a mirror, then?"

His flirtatious remark earned an honest laugh from you and Rhett nearly felt pleased that he was the only one hearing it - someone else might have fallen in love with you too.

"So, Rhett, you take every girl here?" you teased him. He had a curious habit of saying honest and often heartfelt things when slightly jabbed.

"No. You're the first one, actually." Rhett's voice had a hint of unsureness to it as if he was letting you in on a secret you might not take well.

To be honest, it felt good - to know that the guy known for sleeping around could, after all, be lured into something more akin to commitment. In a way, you were quietly gloating, believing that something about you made Rhett change his ways and you weren't wrong to think so: your proud ego couldn't be more right.

"Alright, you got me. I feel special."

Maybe it was Rhett's imagination or maybe you did actually hold him a little tighter than before.

"You should," he said and you felt your own heart starting to beat in an irregular, frenzied rhythm. "You're not just any girl."

He didn't look at your face to see your reaction - he couldn't, he was too nervous. What a great loss that was for him! Had he seen the flustered blush on your face, all of his doubts and anxieties regarding your feelings towards him would have disappeared instantly.

#country boy i love you #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #scenario #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott fic #outer range fic #rhett abbott fluff #outer range fanfic #outer range fanfiction #outer range imagine #outer range fan fiction #rhett abbott fan fiction #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #outer range rhett abbott

[footprintsinthesxnd]

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

[whiskeyswriting]

Eyes on You

| For: @breadsquash |

| Song: Eyes on You by Chase Rice |

Ever since he proposed to Milla, Rhett just could never stop smiling and staring at her when he would visit her. Whether it was baking together or just hanging out at her apartment and dancing to the records, Rhett’s attention and focus, and hands at times, were solely on Milla. He knew that his future would always be like this and he wouldn’t change it for anything else.

--

Cowboy AU 🏷️ List: @askmarinaandothers @bayisdying @breadsquash @callmemana @dragon-kazansky @callsignscupcake @callsignthirsty @cycbaby @likelyrowdy @luckyladycreator2 @gracespicybradshaw @mischief-siriusly-managed @starlit-epiphany @heyriojude

#mrsjaderogerswrites #top gun #top gun fan fiction #top gun cowboy au #the chaos squad #top gun maverick #top gun au #top gun maverick au #Top Gun Cowboy AU #Rhett Abbott #Rhett Abbott x OC #outer range #outer range au #rhett x milla

[jessleanwithit]

I have so many mfing ideas on things to write but I legit have 0 idea how to articulate what k want to say and I’ll stare at my work until it pisses me off and I delete it

#outer range #bad omens #fan fiction #bad omens fanfiction

[hplovecraftmuseum]

This book became extremely popular when it first appeared in 1975. Although charged with sex, drugs, and admittedly mostly a work of imaginative fiction, it explored a wide range of conspiracy theories that were popular at the time. Tales Of the Cthulhu Mythos, edited by August Derleth (Arkham House, 1969) is sited briefly in the Appendix. It's interesting that conspiracies to keep the general public ignorant of the gurgling presence of transgallactic alien powers working just below the surface to threaten all humankind are part of the background element in some of HPL's greatest stories. Repeatedly we find individuals and even government organizations working in concert to hide knowledge regarding the Old Ones, Ancient Ones, Outer Ones, etc. etc. No doubt this 'conspiracy' aspect of Lovecraft's works appealed to readers of the 70s. It's interesting that THE FIRST WORLD FANTASY AWARDS convention was held in 1975, the same year this book was published. The W. F. A. convention was attended by some of the most noted scholars, fans, fellow writers, and even some of the surviving members of the origional Lovecraft Circle. The convention was held in Lovecraft's beloved hometown of Providence, RI and was dedicated primarily to Lovecraft himself. The conspiracy element in HPL's fiction was right in line with the generation who had grown up with the Kennedy, and King assassinations, the CIA connection to mind control and secret LSD experiments, and the book, THE CHARIOTS OF THE GODS. The 70s were primed for Lovecraft. I should mention that the names Yog-Sothoth and Abdul Alhazred also appear in this massive trilogy. H. P. Lovecraft himself gets a mention on page 64 of the edition below, however, the narrator is quick to clarify that he is talking about the Psycedelic Rock band by that name and not the writer. Everything and the kitchen sink is thrown into this series. Certainly for anyone who wants an overview of the kaleidoscopic chaos of ideas mashed into the psychedelic era this would be the book to investigate. (Exhibit 403)

#lovecraft #the First World Fantasy Awards #The Illuminatus! Trilogy #conspriacy theories #Lovecraft and the 1970s

[thecocacolacorporation]

what is manipulation if not charm with purpose?

Pairing: The Brucolac x Uther Doul

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: light blood play, reference to past sexual relations, swearing, reference to injury

Rating: Mature

Here we go, lads.

Uther Doul x The Brucolac fan fiction. Set soon after the events of The Scar. Essentially my interpretation of what happened when Uther Doul went to visit the Brucolac, from the Brucolac's perspective.

Its NSFW because I don't want you to get in trouble for reading fan fiction on company time <3 I care about you, and want you to be safe. Also there is light blood play and stuff, so there is that as well.

This kinda follows my Good! Doul headcanon post, a very different Doul from who we see in the novel. As outlined below...

He was outside again.

The Brucolac looked down at him, the man only faintly illuminated by the light from the masts of the Uroc. He always came when the saint’s fire burned. He wanted to be seen. From this angle, through the window of the Brucolac’s office, he looked small. He could be overlooked as just a fleck of dirt on the outer pane of glass. Just a pale speck amidst the endless black night and the void of the sea.

There was a faint knock on the door, and one of his lieutenants entered.

‘Sir, Uther Doul is here to see you again’

The Brucolac sighed and covered his mouth with his hand.

This was the seventh night in a row. It had rained for the first two. As the city reversed and moved north, it had been steadily getting colder. Citizens had dug out their thicker coats and boots, so recently stowed away. Doul had stood resolutely, only fading away into the dark when the pale fire retreated.

What is this, Uther? He thought, This new dance of yours​​?

Since they had turned away from the Scar, everything had felt unfinished. Public feeling was complex and incommunicable. Regret mixed with relief, rage intermingled with humility. There had been many relocations between the ridings. Those from Garwater, who felt they simply could not trust the Last Remaining Lover, came to Dry Fall to show their support for the failed coup. Those who were bitter about the wasted time and material on a project that they never got to see to completion, took up residence in Garwater. Even in the ridings that had taken no visible action, there was unrest just bubbling under the surface, waiting to pop.

‘Send him in’

‘Sir...are you sure?’ The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably, ‘Would...would you like a guard accompanying you?’

It took a lot of nerve to ask. The Brucolac could respect that, and could see its kindness, but still. He wanted to claw his eyes out. He wanted to scream, ‘I’m the fucking Brucolac, I am not afraid of anything, and I am certainly not afraid of Uther fucking Doul’, but his hands were shaking. They were aged, cracked and cragged like parched desert soil.

The past few weeks, the mask had slipped.

The Brucolac fixed him with a harsh glare, and he left the room.

It had been almost a month since the mutiny.

Like dropping a hefty stone into water, it had vanished from sight, but the ripples still rang out. They rang so loud in The Brucolac’s head. He had, of course, thought deeply about the ramifications of his actions beforehand. He had contemplated the effect it would have, not just on him, but his citizens. The citizens of wider Armada too. He had concluded that, whatever the actual outcome, he could not stand by and let this play out. It was worth the risk, for Armada, for his home, for the greater good. He hoped that, should he be wrong in his judgement, that history remembered him as a considerate fool, instead of a coward, or a sadist, who went along with such a plan.

He had expected punishment, if unsuccessful. He had accepted loss of his standing, loss of respect, pain, torture, and even, his final, true death.

He hadn’t expected the cross.

Every second, pain intolerable. For days, his skin blistered and burst, the salt from the pus stinging his wounds as it dripped from him. He screamed incessantly, until the sun had burnt even the back of his throat. The light of the moon had licked his wounds some, but it only served to make them more tender to the sun’s onslaught the next dawn. He had tried to fight till the last, still hurling insults to any of the Garwater elites he saw, but by the third day of unremitting torment, he longed for death. He would call out to the citizens who came by, and beg them to decapitate him, to kill him outright, but they would hurry away, embarrassed by his cachexia, his pathetic pleading.

He was under no illusion, it was the Lovers’ decision, but it had been Doul who had brought him to that cross.

He had exploited The Brucolac’s weakness to land that first, and incapacitating blow. The Brucolac’s weakness for him. How, whatever else was going on, he did not want to hurt him, not really. He had been so sure that Doul had felt the same; that when it really came down to it, he would take his side. It made him feel disgusted with himself, just how much care and gentleness he had shown this mortal man, this quick.

You let this man play you like a child with his toy soldiers.

Doul did not knock, just the light click of the door’s handle sliding back into place told The Brucolac that he was there.

He considered not turning around, he didn’t want to give him the dignity of his full attention. He didn’t want to look at him. The ghost of him, reflected in the window pane, his incorporeal frame filling his view, was enough to make his stomach turn.

And his smell.

All vampir are equally cursed and blessed with preternatural senses. They can taste emotions. Smell intent. They had the ability to feel minor changes in the air that told them of the weather turning, to hear a pin drop through several brick walls. It helped them to hunt and hide and entrance.

Uther Doul smelt of fresh sweat, and the vanillin of old books, and well-cared for leather, as well as charisma, and focus, and discipline. But, this night, there was an obsequious taste emanating from his skin. Something wheedling and simpering that was never there before.

He was repulsive to the Brucolac now.

‘Deadman Brucolac’, His voice, lyrical and as clear as the dawn, burned him.

‘Uther.’

The Brucolac turned and stood before the other man.

Doul took the briefest intake of breath, and he could taste a sudden note of shock seep from his former friend’s skin, before it was replaced by that fawning sweetness that set his teeth on edge.

For several days and nights after he was cut down, The Brucolac had to be fed by his lieutenants. Like an invalid, one would prop up his shoulders, while another brought the blood filled vials to his lips. They would wash him and change him when he soiled himself, and, mercifully, leave him to weep alone, from his raw, sightless eyes.

His wounds would have killed a mortal man. Even with all of his power, he was still marked and aching across his body. His burns still wept. His joints groaned under new duress. His eyesight, so vivid and clear before, was blurred, out of focus. Unreal shapes clouded his vision. He woke at nightfall from fretful dreams, carefully moved his stiff limbs to dress and limped around the Uroc. He couldn’t bare to be seen by any of his citizens. Topical application of blood helped. It soothed his wounds like a healing balm. He would massage it into his joints when they ached, into his temple to soothe his stabbing headaches.

The Brucolac looked wounded.

‘Shocked at my appearance, Uther?’ he sneered, ‘Do you find it distasteful?’

Uther said nothing. His face he kept unreadable.

The Brucolac sighed, ‘Why are you here, Uther?’

Uther opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He swallowed, loud enough for the Brucolac to hear, then started again, ‘There is nothing that I can say that will do justice to the betrayal that you must feel.’

‘The betrayal I must feel’ thought the Brucolac, Not ‘the betrayal that was done to me’, just ‘the betrayal I must feel’. Fuck off, Uther

Uther’s hands were clasped behind his body, in a soldier’s stance

‘But I wanted to apologise. To you. Fully, for my actions.’

The Brucolac couldn’t even describe Doul as traitorous. He had side stepped any request for assurances or promise, as deliberately and deftly as an acrobat. He never admitted to or conspired to do anything. He had just stood there, in his stony-faced persona, and let the Brucolac do the work.

They had been friends once.

Lovers, for a while.

Now, looking at him made him nauseous.

‘I wish...I wish that things could have been different. I wish it hadn’t come to this.’ his voice, like an incantation, ‘I have always cared for you deeply.’

The Brucolac noticed the faintest softness around Doul’s eyes. As if remembering a dream, the Brucolac recalled the other beautiful things he used to say to him with stunning, vivid clarity.

He had always known that his old friend was capable of deft manipulations. Before, when Doul had been more than the craven image standing before him, he would steer conversations to where he needed it to go with the skill of a practised helmsman. He had seen him seduce men and women with his handsome face and his intoxicating blend of confidence and awkwardness. He was disarming in more ways than one. His charm, his ability to make you feel as though you, and only you, were allowed to glimpse behind the mask, would make anyone weak to him.

And what is manipulation if not charm with purpose?

The Brucolac never thought it would happen to him. He now realised, with a churn of his stomach, that neither did any of his other marks.

‘I know that this will probably mean little to you, and I will answer any questions that you ask of me, completely. Honestly.’ his voice earnest, ‘But please believe me what I say I did what I had to. To save Armada.’

The Uroc was a quiet ship. Even from this, the top, floor, the whispered lapping of the water on the hull filled the room.

Uther Doul stepped towards him, stealthy and placating, a lion tamer approaching its charge.

‘You were right you know. I didn’t agree with the Lovers’ plans. It was a succession of stupid, dangerous ideas... which I felt responsible for, for giving them the damned ideas in the first place.’

‘Before, I had dreamed that I could use my knowledge, my research, to help bring Armada into a new golden age. I wanted to give that to the city. But I only had ideas, half baked plans. When I read about the Scar, about the power we could harness once we got there, I was too excited by what I had found. I shouldn’t have let them be known without doing more research, without thinking of the ramifications of my actions. I didn’t realise how far it would go’

Uther was just a pace away from The Brucolac. The scent of his pleading, like damp soil mixed with stringent lemon, swirled around the room. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the base of his neck, as if he had been caught half way through dressing. His cropped hair was unkempt. The Brucolac noticed, with shock, that he was unarmed. He held himself as if the weight of the possible sword still hung at his hip.

‘It was only after that it became clear to me. From my application of possibility science…’

‘I couldn’t give a whore’s fuck about possibility science’ The Brucolac growled

Uther let the rest of the sentence die in his throat.

‘What I am trying to say is, I did what I had to, Deadman.’ he looked at his hands

‘I am sorry that it came to that. If I could have changed anything at all, I would have not allowed you to be...treated that way.’

He won’t even say it, seethed the Brucolac, he won’t even admit what was done to me, accept his part in all of this

Doul’s eyes met his, ‘I’m sorry that I hurt you’

‘You humiliated me, Uther!’ The Brucolac roared, his whole body buckling with fury.

He seethed from the force of his yell.‘I don’t care that you were thinking of the city. I don’t care about your master plan.’

One solitary sob broke past his lips, ‘I wanted you to care about me’

‘I know you never…’ he tensed his jaw, readjusted himself, started again, ‘You would come to me, and confide in me, and kiss me, and fuck me, and I know, I have always known, that it meant more to me than you. I always knew I was an ersatz lover, some kind of replacement for something you hadn’t found yet. At first, I thought time might pull you to me. Then, I’d break my own heart thinking of you. Over and over again, I imagined you laughing at me, so soft for you and no one else. I thought about how, one day, you’d probably find someone new. Some Deadwife, maybe. Some nice, sweet girl, who’d bare your children, and you’d tell her about us, not even doing me the dignity of being a dirty secret, and you’d both giggle together at your youthful indiscretion.’

He breathed heavily, and lent against his desk, suddenly weakened.

‘Regardless, that was in the past.’ He gazed out the window. The night was deep, the moon and her daughters at the peak of their ascent, ‘I was fine with our return to friendship’

He had not been fine. What had distressed him the most was the wordless nature of their break up. Doul used flash him that boyish smile that seemed so incongruous with the rest of him, and the Brucolac would know that he would share his bed that night. He would whisper delicious nothings, as he penetrated him, and then, when both had finished, he would ask nervously if he was okay, that he was sure it hadn’t hurt at all. Always so gentle. Then, as though ripping off a bandage, he would rise from their bed and wordlessly leave. Only his scent and his warmth to remind the Brucolac that it had not been some hallucination, not some dream.

The Brucolac sighed deeply. He hadn’t been worthy of a dismissal. No awkward, painful conversation about different hopes and directions, about unaligned personalities, about ‘affection-but-nothing-more’ for the other. The absence of a proper end to their relationship just made it harder to put to rest. It was true that, until comparatively recently, The Brucolac still felt like maybe, in one of their clandestine meetings, maybe Doul might grip his hand, and pull him close, and they would be wrapped up in each other again.

Instead, they fell into a friendship, or what could be described as a friendship. One that hurt as frequently as it helped. Harsh words in public; secret, one-sided discussions at night.

‘I was fine when I could pretend that you at least cared for me a little.’

Doul started towards him. His arm reached out to close the gap between them. The Brucolac flinched away.

‘Brucolac, if I could explain, if I could get you to understand how much I have given up…’ he trailed off, perhaps sensing that his choice of words felt rich.

The Brucolac stared at him darkly as he continued,‘I want to go back. To the way things were. Before the fucking avanc, and the Scar, before I started working for the Lovers, back when we first met’ He pleaded, ‘I have always tried to do the right thing.’

‘I have given up so much for this city, because I thought it was necessary. But...I am tired.’

He laughed a little. It sounded empty and hollow. ‘I’m so tired of always letting go!’

He began to pace, floorboards creaking under his feet, ‘Everything I have done, is for someone else! I wanted to serve, but I didn’t know it would make me a slave. Once you start down that path, you realise that everything matters. There is no chance, no happenstance. Everything has got to be exactly right. You can’t live. You can’t just be anymore. Everything is a choice. Left, right. Red, green. Eggs for breakfast, bread.’

The Brucolac didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but let him unravel before him.

‘I don’t remember the last time I chose something, for myself just because I liked it, because I wanted it. Because I needed it’

Uther’s paused and smiled at him, tenderly, shyly.

This made the Brucolac stutter. This could not possibly be the same man in front of him. The same man, who stood, blank faced in a room full of scientists, and the Lovers themselves, and let them cook ridiculous and dangerous plans. The man who would shout him down when he requested help ending this suicidal scheme. The man who, impassively, let the Brucolac be crucified and left to burn.

‘Tell me, how can I repent?’ Doul stepped towards his former friend, ‘It will take time, of course it will take time, and I will not pressure you, but I am willing to wait. I am willing to come and stand outside your window for forty nights... fifty... forever. Whatever it takes.’

There was a manic look to Doul’s face. His usual unmoveable expression barely constraining a frantic energy, just underneath the surface, that unnerved the Brucolac greatly. Maybe he has gone mad? The Brucolac thought, Maybe Uther Doul has finally cracked?

The two men stared at each other for what felt like an age. The Brucolac, worn and tired from pain. Uther Doul, filled with some sort of passion that his ex-lover could not place.

‘I will not pressure you, I will not force you, but I want you to understand’ he paused meaningfully ‘I will beg for your forgiveness’

He emphasised the beg, as if it were a promise.

The Brucolac felt his shoulders slump a little. How much he wished he could take this plea at face value. He would punish him, make him cry and beg and lick his boots, but then his forgiveness would be a divine reward. After pardoning Doul, they could both be free to go back to how they had been. He could think about him again without feeling his skin prickle and his throat tighten. How he wished Doul could go back to being someone he could trust.

But, he was steeled to the fact that there always had to be something else. There was always something else, some sub-clause at the end of every one of his contracts. Even with the benefit of hindsight, The Brucolac struggled to pin point when Doul began to manipulate him. Was it before they met? Subsequent to him becoming Garwater’s man? After they first kissed?

‘You can hurt me’ he said, almost sweetly, ‘Please, Brucolac, hurt me, if you wish. I...I just want to make this right’

Any anger that may have abated from sadness and grief for a past long lost, returned with the vigour of an avalanche.

The Brucolac leapt up, full of feline grace, and grabbed Doul full force. He held his face tightly in his hand, and squeezed. Squeezed his cheeks hard enough to make him look laughable, ridiculous. Doul’s lips parted under pressure, and he could feel his teeth, his jaw bone, the scaffolding that kept him together. He pushed the taller man down, until he was on his knees before him, wide eyes looking up at him.

How he would love to hurt him.

He would love to have him flogged. In front of the entirety of Armada. He wanted to shout from the roof top of the Uroc, as the whip cracked and Doul whimpered, ‘Here is the great Uther Doul. Finally, facing the consequences of his actions.’ He wanted to parade his broken, pathetic body through the streets, all strength sucked from him, cringing and ashamed.

It felt such a childish, even lecherous, desire.

‘Is that all it would take for you?’ The Brucolac hissed, ‘A simple exchange; you hurt me, I hurt you, then we are even?’

He grabbed his tight cropped hair and pulled his head back. He did not resist. He let his neck lay bare in front of The Brucolac. The thin skin of his jugular quivered with each pulse. The Brucolac could smell it, ebbing and flowing, metallic and heady.

He let one sharpened talon trace the muscles of his neck. Let it push into his flesh, just a little. Every part of Doul was formed, like a sculpture, like a machine. It was strange to see the softness of his surface, see his flesh yield.

He had under estimated how hard he scratched. It punctured his skin. Doul did not flinch. A trickle of blood run down his pale skin. The Brucolac’s jaw unhinged instinctively. His teeth extended, ready to feed. The scent of his blood was ineluctable.

There was a time when turning Doul would have been his dream. To have him by his side, his colonel, his right hand man; it would have felt like being chosen.

His serpentine tongue flicked out eagerly, and he let it mop up the flow, avoiding the wound deftly. He wanted to drink from him, to clamp his teeth deep into his jugular and to feel his life force pour into him, to feed until he was intoxicated by it, but he stopped himself. He let himself lick and suck what flowed from his wound. His mouth filled with his blood. Hot and metallic; he tasted of fear and arousal and self-inflicted passivity.

Gods, he had missed him.

The Brucoloc drunk all that the spring of blood had brought forth. He felt the other man’s strength flow into him, and Gods, he was strong. The feel of Doul’s skin underneath his tongue, his mouth, felt deliciously familiar. He had craved it for years. There was a part of him that yearned to feel his weight upon his back, to let him back in, even with all the pain he had caused. He let his tongue lead up from the wound, finding his way to his lips and kissed him deeply. Doul submitted completely, and let the blood spill into his mouth.

A tentative presence, then loving strokes, The Brucolac felt Doul’s hand caress his face. His flesh warm was against his own dead, cold skin. He brushed wild hair from his cheeks, and cupped the back of his head, pulling him in deeper into the kiss. Nothing, nothing had felt sweeter.

The Brucolac detached from him quickly, as if he had been scorched.

‘We both know it doesn’t work like that’

He stepped back from him, and watched as Doul wiped blood from his mouth.

‘Nothing I do to you will earn you forgiveness’

The Brucolac returned behind his desk, and turned away. He could feel himself shaking.

‘I have never wanted to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was softness’, he fought to keep the quiver out of his voice.

He was well aware that he sounded pathetic, but he felt beaten. Whatever game Doul was playing, whatever this temptation was for, he wanted no part in it. He watched the reflection of his former lover rise to his feet. How dare you, how dare you come here to offer me everything I ever wanted, knowing that you have poisoned it, defiled it so?

If it had to be like this, then so it shall remain.

Doul seemed to sense that he was no longer welcome. The cold of the night had seeped back into the room. The warmth he had left on the Brucolac’s skin was fading fast.

Uther Doul walked slowly to the door.

He stopped at the frame, ‘I am, truly and forever, sorry for what I have done. And I mean it, I will wait. However long it takes’

There was silence between them. The Brucolac’s entire body was overcome with fatigue deeper than his muscles, deeper than his bones. He held himself steady.

Doul grasped the handle and pulled it towards him, before the Brucolac spoke.

‘Don’t come back, Doul. I’m done.’

#china mieville #uther doul #the brucolac #the scar #fanfic

[attapullman]

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: f! reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, fingering, swearing, alcohol, healthy dash of praise k!nk as usual

A Note From Mo: I blame reading an old fic I desperately wanted to re-write and having covid, strep, and my period all at the same time for whatever the fuck this is. Anyway, happy 6 months since the last time I wrote Rhett! xoxo

There’s something about waking up in a bed that isn’t yours that causes an anxiety like none other. Especially when the night before is a hazy blur. And you aren’t wearing any pants.

Wait, where are your pants?

Creamy morning light bleeds through the thin plaid curtains in the room. From your spot half-buried under the comforter, you notice the vaguely familiar rodeo posters tacked up on the wall and dust-covered flannels on the floor. The slight tinge of boy sweat engulfs the room. Definitely not a Tillerson room, but who the fuck did you go home with?

A quick body scan results in these observations:

Your jeans were long gone, but cheekies and tshirt still remained.

Your head was splitting open from the axe of a bad hangover.

Based on the groan that did not come from your body, there was definitely another person in the bed. And they were awake.

You flip over in bed, panicked. Praying to God that beside you is some random Wabang townie. But you would know those dark, grown out curls anywhere. He may be turned toward the wall, but you know him better than you know yourself.

“Rhett?”

A tentative hand leaves the warm cocoon of blankets to roughly shove your ex’s shoulder. He grunts with consciousness and a veiny hand rises up to rub at his eyes. Takes a moment to rake through those unruly curls. Flipping over onto his back, bright ultramarine eyes quirk up at you. 

“Good mornin’ to y’too, sunshine.”

It’s hard to remember everything you want to say when he’s looking entirely too delectable for the morning hours. Something you’d sweetly told him during your relationship, but after your swift uncoupling it’s downright rude of him.

“Why am I in your bed?” His eyes roll slightly as he lifts up onto his right arm, rolling the thick, labor-built muscles of his neck and back. It’s mesmerizing, watching him work out the kinks that come with his profession. Your eyes unable to leave where his hand massages over that bronc tattoo you’re still weak over. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”

He’s sexy as hell, but you’ve been doing a really good job avoiding him the past year.

“D’ya not remember any of last night?” Your head shakes, cheeks heating. “Not even a little? Oh fuck, really? You had quite t’night, darlin’.”

The color completely drains from your face. In your hey day, the two of you could drink the bar under the table, stumbling out of the Handsome Gambler with the sloppiest grins and even sloppier kisses. Drunken shenanigans were the norm. 

But since your breakup last year, nights out had been quiet. A beer or two, a tequila shot when the time called. Your friends don’t have the tolerance of a bull rider. And neither do you anymore, since you can’t remember much past that third shot of Don Julio.

How had you landed in bed with Rhett Abbott? 

As you watch him roll out his other shoulder, it’s like no time has passed since that night. Sitting in his truck, the front porch light on as your roommates wait for you to come in. Deciding that if he’s gonna be traveling the mountain states to make a name for himself, it’s not fair for you to be sitting at home worrying what bone would break. You can’t take off weeks to follow him around. You’re too young to sit around pining. He can’t handle all that time away from you. It just makes sense to call it quits. And yet tears poured down both your cheeks when you shut that truck door for the last time, Rhett Abbott no longer your business.

Why are you here?

Blinking back the ghost of tears, you clear your throat. “What kind of night exactly?”

In the past, a night of too much tequila in Rhett’s bed would have had Royal knocking on the door at an ungodly hour and Cecelia giving you an exasperated yet playful look when you snuck out the back door in the morning. 

“Do ya really want t’know what happened?” He’s leaning against the headboard, broad chest in view, sheets low on his hips. You say one last prayer that he’s wearing sweats so that you can still believe that you didn’t have a blackout fuck with your ex.

“I’m scared to ask,” you admit, the gentle smirk on his face confirming that this story is not going to paint you in a flattering light. 

Rhett’s head tilts down as he laughs, teeth flashing as the hearty grumble fills the room. Looks back up at you with that boyish mischievous grin you’ve loved for years. There’s a pillow indent still marring his cheek. Your heart lurches for him, for when you could call him yours.

His lip quirks. “Ya threw a rock at m’window in the middle o’the night. Begged me to let ya in. Told ya to go home, but ya threatened t’wake up my folks.”

Your cheeks flame with shame. Drunk you was not in your corner.

“Snuck ya in the back door, like ol’ times. Said yer friends had dropped ya off, so let ya stay until ya sobered up.” The burning embarrassment lifts a little, imagining you quietly climbing in bed and sleeping. But that unruly mischievous smile is back. “Then ya started tellin’ me how much you miss my cock and asked t’go for a ride.”

A hole opening in the earth and swallowing you couldn’t make you escape this embarrassment.

“Please tell me I didn’t-”

“Oh, but y’did, darlin’. It wouldn’t be a drunk night out with ya without asking for m’fingers. Practically gagging for it as I got ya upstairs.” He’s radiating pride. You risk a glance at those thick, calloused fingers. Yep, you can see yourself begging for even just one of them.

“Then ya started strippin’ off yer pants…forgot how cute yer booty looks shakin’ like that.” He lets out a joyful grunt, the happiest sound a cowboy ever did make. “Had to hold yer hands to yer side to keep it from bein’ a free strip show.” 

You swallow down every ounce of your dignity, the scene playing behind your eyes. Those strong hands wrapped around your biceps. Your cheeky comments, grinding your ass on any part of him you could. The lack of inhibitions on your part was concerning, but when had you ever been able to restrain yourself when it came to Rhett?

His giggles fade as you both sit against the rough wooden headboard, the one that is nearly as old as this creaky house. In the silence of the room you can now hear the busy sounds of his folks making breakfast. Figures they still have that louder than sin coffee machine. You could really use a cup.

He shifts beside you, the energy in the room softer. “Ya know, after y’fell asleep, I kept on thinkin’ about all the times ya stayed over here. Nights in the pasture. We were s’good…” He trails off, the silence filled with reminders of rushed kisses between rides, lazy afternoons on horseback, and too many days spent in the barn pretending to do chores while the two of you fell in love. 

It was you. You couldn’t handle the broken bones. The purpled bruises week after week. He loved it, and you couldn’t take that from him. So you had left a part of yourself with him and spent the past year pretending like you weren’t missing a limb. It was him. He didn’t want to be always missing home. Canceling rides purely so he could drive hours back here. He cut his losses before he was in too deep, spending the last year acting like a chunk of his heart wasn’t permanently cemented in you.

When you two crossed paths in town you exchanged sad glances and half-hearted smiles. Nights at the Handsome Gambler a drink was raised in greeting. It was as painful and as amicable as a breakup could be. But this was the closest the two of you had been since that night in his truck. The most you’d spoken other than forced hello’s. The most you’d touched since that last kiss goodbye.

Looking into those impossibly deep oceans he calls eyes, there was an emotion that you couldn’t read. His smile gone, thin lips bitten as he worried them between his teeth. Mirth replaced with angst.

You need to get out of here.

“M’sorry for interrupting your night. You know my libido has her own brain when I drink. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair - think Ce will notice me going out the back door?”

You’re barely off the bed when an arm, all hard muscle and thick veins, wraps around your bicep and brings you to a warm chest. “I-I…just for a minute, ‘kay?”

It’s the best you’ve felt in so long. Safe, warm. He’d shaped perfectly to accommodate you. It’s only natural to scoot closer into him, blurring the lines of ended relationships to seek his comfort.

Rhett’s heartbeat is solid beneath your cheek, speed picking up when you curl into him and run your hand along his side. The rumble of his chest vibrates as he clears his throat. “Ya don’t have t’ leave. I like havin’ ya here, missed holding’ ya, yer so soft.”

You hum in agreement and then there’s a beat, and you can almost see the bashful grin splitting his face. “And yer s’sexy in those panties.”

At least you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

One of those perfectly large, comforting hands slides down your side, hitching your hip up so you can straddle his thigh. That thick expanse of pure muscle was exactly where you belonged.

You were already here, already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go the whole way.

“Rhett?” His eyes latch onto yours, eager to hear from you. “I don’t have to go. If you want to, uh, catch up?” If his hungry smirk wasn’t an indicator, the twitch in his boxers below speaks volumes.

Aware there’s an old house with no sound proofing and an entire family downstairs eating bacon, he rolls you over onto your back, rippling biceps boxing you in. That confident smirk that looks as in place in bed as it does atop a two ton bull. The hungover logic in your brain pleading you to go home not nearly as strong as the instant spring of your legs landing either side of his hips.

His lips ghost over yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. The slightest groan left you, eager to feel him. Taste him.

“Please…please don’t tease me.” His smirk is bordering on arrogant as you wrap impatient hands around strong shoulders. Your libido was making her triumphant return after not being satisfied the night before, pooling in the apex of your thighs as he presses against you. You want Rhett, and you want him now.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, a shadow of the real thing. “If y’can be quiet f’me, I’ll give you m’fingers, darlin’.”

Dignity fades to the back of your brain as you quickly nod at him, lips pressed close like a good girl.

Scruff scratches along your jaw as he hums along your skin, pressing his weight to one side as calloused fingers make their way south, slipping and catching against your soft skin. Both your eyes fluttering as cotton is pushed aside and he finds your clit, rubbing the softest of circles. His little chuckle at how wet you already are. Small whimpers leaving you before he finally tilts his head down to smother your lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Fuck, he’s an even better kisser than you remember.

Running a hand through those unruly curls, letting the dark hair tangle between your fingers as you fight to keep your moans contained. A struggle as he presses deliciously on the button, delighted at how you squirm against him. Lips ghosting against your ear as he moans your name. “Doin’ s’good for me.”

While his thumb continues its mind numbing descent on your clit, the tips of his fingers brush against your folds. He knows you love a tease, the promise of what’s to come. His special trick to getting you to your orgasm in less time than he rides a bull.

“R-Rhett.” Your voice is barely audible, struggling to keep yourself from screaming his name to the heavens. Your fingers never feel this good, nothing could ever be as satisfying as his touch. Your pathetic whimpers picking up speed as the blinding white pleasure threatened to overtake you.

“Are ya gonna cum for me, darlin’? Y’know y’want to. Cum for me, baby girl, show me how good I make y’feel.”

Scruff against your neck and jaw as he showers you in kisses, whispers praises in your ear, fingers stroking and rubbing and bringing you closer to the promised land. Slips that wild tongue between your lips, groaning at your familiar taste, and that’s all it takes.

A thousand years could pass and you would still remember how all-consuming every orgasm is that Rhett Abbott has given you. The flash behind your eyes, the constriction of your chest. Thanking the good Lord that Rhett’s tongue is deep in your mouth to shush the pleasured scream that threatens to escape. 

You settle from your orgasm with soft kisses and his wet fingers trailing along your skin, soothing you. Not that it’s easy to be soothed when his erection is throbbing against your thigh. He’s hot and ready, prepared to take you all the ways he’s denied himself the past year.

You’re doing the mental math. Your ex giving you an orgasm isn’t that bad. Fucking him? That’s the kind of mistake you can’t undo and should be avoided.

But when you look in those midnight blue eyes, all reason hightails out the door. It’s just sex - not a relationship - you two are so good at sex. And it’s been so long since you’ve taken him for a proper ride.

Your fingers sink into the back of his boxers, itching to sink your fingers into the meat of his ass - hard and toned from hours riding. Tease him a little by pressing a kiss to that scruffy chin as he ushers you along, desperate to be inside you.

Just as you get the checkered material past his cheeks, there’s a knock at the door. Rhett’s a deer in the headlights above you; wide, scared eyes aimed at the door.

It’s Cecelia, speaking through the wood as she walks past with the laundry. “Rhett, hurry up, y’got chores in the barn.” 

The two of you exchange a glance, relief at being in the clear.

“Oh, and sweetie? Since you’re still here, if you want breakfast, there’s some extra bacon.”

Abandoning my normal tag list since it's not Bob and tagging some fellow Rhett bb's who might enjoy: @bobfloydsbabe @sorchathered @bobgasm @auroralightsthesky @creatchie8 @just-in-case-iloveyou @ryebecca @sebsxphia @lewmagoo

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fan fiction #rhett abbott x you #outer range fan fiction #outer range smut

[topguncortez]

Day 28: It's just the tip of the iceberg prompts: Anger born of worry character: Rhett Abbott warnings: physical violence, Perry's a fucking dumbass, fighting, bull riding injuries, dislocated bones, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of depression (not eating, not sleeping). masterlist | whumptober | library

Rhett was scary when he was angry. He knew he was, and that’s why he tried his hardest to remain calm. Also one of the reasons why he drank as much as he did. He had his father’s anger in him, and knew how to pack a lethal punch if needed. Rhett could harness most of his anger into bull riding, but sometimes, that anger spilled over. Never with Y/N though, he never got angry at her. And he tried his hardest to never let her see that side of him. 

But it was like something in Rhett had snapped as he was sitting at the kitchen table, the meal his mother and Y/N had cooked was ready to be eaten. She smiled at Rhett, and touched his shoulder gently as she sat down next to him. He grabbed her hand, and kissed the diamond ring that sat on her finger. Amy sat across from them and fake gagged at them, which caused Rhett to chuckle and toss a piece of bread at her. 

“Rhett,” Y/N scolded and sat down next to him. Royal sat at the head of the table, and Cecilia at the other end. It was hardly ever that they sat at their actual dining room table, but Cecilia insisted now that Rhett and Y/N were over. The best thing Rhett had ever done was officially move out of his parents house. Y/N had a small house in town, and Rhett was jumping at the bit to move in with her. If it wasn’t for Cecilia telling Rhett he needed to wait at least a couple months before asking to move in together, he would’ve asked by week two of dating. 

“Do you want to say grace?” Cecilia asked her husband, who looked worse for wear. Rhett wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but he had shown up in ripped clothing and a gunshot wound on his leg the other day. Royal said it was one of the Tillerson boys, but Rhett wasn’t buying it, nor was he going to pry. He was already on the sheriff’s radar for Trevor’s death, and didn’t want to be pulled into any more of the mess. 

Rhett had told himself when he started dating Y/N that he was going to get on the straight and narrow. No more bar fights, or getting OWIs. He knew that there were whispers around town about the kindergarten teacher getting mixed up with the drunken bull rider, and Rhett hated it. Y/N acted like the whispers at church didn’t bother her, but Rhett could see through it. She also knew that since Rhett had been named a suspect in Trevor’s disappearance and murder, that the school had put her on leave. She kept it a secret from Rhett for a couple days, but he figured it out one day when he saw her turn a different direction than the school one morning. He felt bad that she was getting punished for his stupid actions. And it didn’t help that his father wasn’t helping him either. 

“I can do it,” Y/N volunteered, and Rhett squeezed her thigh. Everyone at the table bowed their heads, “Dear Lord, please bless-” 

“Where the hell have you been?” Royal said, as the door was pushed open. Y/N opened her eyes and looked over to see Perry standing in the doorway. 

“I confessed,” Perry said.

“Confessed?” Amy asked, “What would you need to confess about?” 

Y/N felt Rhett stiffen next to her, taking his hand off her thigh. She looked over her shoulder at him, and noticed the way his body was starting to shake, “What are you talking about?” Rhett asked. 

“I left a letter for the sheriff. I took the blame for all of it,” Perry looked at Y/N, “Everyone else is off the hook, including you.” 

There was a pause of silence before Rhett pushed back from the table with enough force to send his chair crashing to the ground. Y/N jumped at his action, feeling her heart going erratic in her chest. She placed a hand on her belly, the only other person noticing the action was Royal. 

“Fuck you,” Rhett spat. 

“Hey,” Royal said to his son, as Rhett kicked his chair. Y/N was silent and looked down at her lap, trying to count to ten in her head and calm her breathing down. Rhett paced the floor angrily behind her, running his hands through his hair. 

“Perry, after all we did to protect you?” Cecilia spoke up. 

“I took the blame to protect you. To protect everyone!” Perry said, “You’re all safe now.” 

“There’s no telling what the cops will find now that they know it's on us!” Royal seethed. 

“Rhett, can you stop pacing please,” Y/N said softly, reaching out to grab his wrist, which he angrily pulled away from her, and threw a glass at Perry. 

“Fuck you!” Rhett yelled, angry dripping in his voice. Y/N’s eyes widened as Royal quickly got up from his spot to hold his younger son back, “Maybe our parents are protected, but the sheriff knows that we left that bar together! You have no idea what I have given up to protect you!” 

“Hey! Get Y/N and Amy out of here!” Royal yelled. She didn’t even know her name was called until Cecilia put a hand on her shoulder, and to get her. Y/N looked up at Cecilia with fear in her eyes and the older woman frowned. 

“I’m sorry!” Perry cried. Y/N stood up from her chair, and quickly grabbed Amy, the young girl clutching onto her arm as they moved away from Rhett’s side of the kitchen. 

“Don’t say you’re fucking sorry to me! It’s no wonder Rebecca left you! You selfish piece of shit. You’re the reason Amy doesn’t have a fucking mom!” Rhett snapped, his chest heaving with every breath. Y/N couldn’t believe what he was saying. She knew Rhett could be mean, but she didn’t think he could be this mean. 

“He didn’t mean that, Perry,” Y/N said, and touched the man’s arm gently, but Perry wasn’t listening, as he shoved her back, sending her stumbling to the floor and charging after Rhett. Cecilia ran to Y/N as Royal tried to separate Perry and Rhett. 

Y/N watched in horror as Perry picked Rhett up and slammed him on the kitchen table, delivering a punch to his face. Cecilia ran to her boys as Y/N held Amy tightly in her arms, whispering under her breath. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Y/N felt tears running down her cheeks as she tried not to let Amy see her dad like this. She flinched at the sound of breaking glass as Royal stepped in and pulled his oldest son away from his youngest. Rhett had blood dripping down his nose as stood heaving on the other side of the kitchen. His blue eyes for a moment flashed over to where Y/N was now standing, holding Amy. Perry gathered himself for a minute, and grabbed the knife that was sitting on the counter. 

“I’m protecting Dad!” Perry yelled as he taunted Rhett with the knife, “Autumn was going to tell the sheriff that she saw him with Trevor’s body?” 

“What?” Royal spat, “How many times have I told you to not talk to her.” Royal grabbed Perry’s body, and slammed him up against the glass courier cabinet, sending glass shards everywhere. 

“Fuck!” Y/N hissed as she felt a glass penetrate her skin. Blood trickled down from her forehead as she pulled a small piece of glass out. Cecilia shrieked as Rhett pushed past her over to Y/N. 

“Babe,” Rhett said, and reached out to grab her. 

“No!” Y/N yelled and pushed him away, and ran for the door. 

“Y/N! Wait!” Rhett called out for her and ran after her. Cecilia walked over to Amy, and grabbed the little girl in her arms as the house was now quiet. 

“You better pray you didn’t do anything to hurt that girl or that baby,” Royal said and shoved Perry one more time, before walking over to his wife and grandchild. 

Rhett could hear Y/N’s sobs as he ran to wear she stood in the middle of the driveway. The night air sent a chill to her bone, and she wrapped her arms around her. She looked around at the dark scenery around her. She could remember nights as a child when she would run out and find herself in the middle of the pasture, staring at the stars, finding Polaris and debating on running away. 

“Y/N!” Rhett called out for her as he approached. 

“Don’t come near me!” Y/N yelled as she turned around to face him. Rhett held his hands up in defense and nodded, “What the fuck was that?!” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t-” 

“Don’t give me that shit, Rhett Abbott,” Y/N seethed, “What the hell were you thinking? You know what he’s capable of. And you thought it was a good idea to start a fight in front of your niece, and say those things about her father! I know you hate him, but for fuck’s sake! That’s her dad! The only goddamn parent she has left!” 

“I’m sorry-” 

“I’m not done,” Y/N cut him off, “What I just saw in there was not the same man I fell in love with. The same man that I said yes to marrying. The same man that I am having a baby with!” 

“You’re pregnant?” Rhett asked, his jaw dropping, “I’m going to fucking kill Perry for push-” 

“There you go again!” She let out a frustrated groan. She turned her back to him, and took a couple deep breaths. She closed her eyes and thought back to all those nights she helped her mother clean up her face after a fight with her father. The sounds of breaking glass and the cries for him to stop drinking. Y/N could remember asking her mother why she stayed, why would she willingly stay with a man as horrible and mean as her father. Her mother simply said, she stayed because of Y/N. 

Y/N opened her eyes and let out a shaky breath, “I’m leaving.” 

“What?” Rhett asked, “What-What do you mean?” 

“I can’t stay with someone like. . . whoever the hell that was in the kitchen,” Y/N said and turned back to face Rhett, “I witnessed my mother stay with someone like that for years, and it killed her. I will not end up like her. I can’t. . . I can’t put my child in a situation like that.” 

“Y/N, I’m not-” 

“You are Rhett! You are just like that! You’ve just gotten used to hiding it,” Y/N said, and took a step forward, “I’m sorry.” 

She didn’t say anymore as she walked past him and to her car. Rhett took a step out of the way as he heard her car start, then the turning of gravel as she drove out of the driveway. He wanted to get angry and go back into the house with a new fight to start, but instead, he walked into the house, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and walked up to his room. 

— — — 

It took three days until Rhett finally got out of his room. He was starting to feel sick from not eating and just laying in bed all day. He could hear the conversation of his parents outside his door. They had one son sitting in jail and the other locked in his room. Rhett also knew that he had an important competition tonight, and needed to fuel up for it. 

He stood at the kitchen sink filling up a pot of water so he could make himself some mac n cheese, when he heard footsteps. He looked over his shoulder to see Amy standing there shyly. Rhett hung his head in shame at the nervous stature of his niece. She was probably scared of him too, and Rhett didn’t blame her. 

“How are you?” Amy asked softly. 

Rhett gave her a small smile, “Got out of bed.” 

“That’s good,” Amy nodded, “Are you going to shower next?” 

Rhett laughed, “I reckon that’s on the list of things to do.” 

“Good,” Amy nodded again. There was a beat before she spoke again, “Y/N says hi. I stopped by the other day after school. I miss seeing her during recess.” 

“Yeah, I know she misses seeing you too,” Rhett turned back to the now overflowing pot of water, “Shit.” He cursed and turned the tap off. 

“I’m guessing Y/N does the cooking at home?” 

“You’d guess correctly. Says I can’t boil water without burning it.” 

“Clearly, you can’t even get water into the pot correctly.” 

Rhett shot her a look as Amy giggled. A wave of relief washed over him at the sound of her laughter. He was happy to hear the sound again. But there was still that heavy feeling of guilt in between the two of them, like a thick blanket. Rhett didn’t want to talk about the fight, and he didn’t know how to address it with her anyway. 

“Do you ride tonight?” Amy asked. 

“Yeah,” Rhett nodded, “Championship. . . and my last ride.” 

“Last ride? Why?” 

“I got a baby on the way,” Rhett smiled to himself, “Y/N needs me around more.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

Leave it to the nine year old to ask the heavy questions at twelve in the afternoon. But she was right, why was Rhett still there dwelling in his own mistakes. He hadn’t ever been the one to back down from a fight before. He rolled his shoulders back and stood up straight. Rhett looked at the little girl in front of him, he wasn’t sure when she grew from the little toddler who was chasing him around to the beautiful young woman that stood strong in the middle of the mess. 

“I’m gonna ask Y/N to leave with me tonight, and I want you to come with us,” Rhett told his niece. 

“What about my dad?” Amy asked. 

Rhett sighed, “He’s got a lot to figure out. We all do, but we also want what's best for you. You deserve to be a kid, and live a somewhat normal life. So, come with us.” 

Amy paused for a second, and then nodded. 

— — — 

The smell of livestock filled the air as Y/N walked towards the metal stands. No matter how mad she was at Rhett, she had never missed a ride. For nearly three years Y/N had sat on his mother’s left side, holding her hand and watching the seconds tick on until he could get off that damn bull and get to safety. But tonight was different as she looked around the stands and didn’t see a single member of the Abbott family. She frowned and found a spot to sit where she could clearly see Rhett. 

Rhett let out a shaky breath as his rodeo hand, Michael, taped up his wrist. His blue eyes looked up, scanning the crowd again for his family. His frown ticked upwards a bit as he landed on her frame, smiling and talking to some Wabang citizen. She looked gorgeous in a white sundress, jean jacket and her boots. Rhett’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed her still wearing her ring. 

“Are you ready for this?” Michael asked him. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Rhett said, and climbed up towards the chute. The bull he drew was already angry, and he wasn’t even on it yet. The animal bucked and snorted wildly as Rhett climbed over the railing. Y/N bit her nails as she watched him climb on the animal, and secure his rope. The second the buzzer went off, her eyes locked on the large clock. She couldn’t watch Rhett, she had to focus on the timer or she would get sick. 

“Come on, Rhett! Hold on!” She cheered as the time ticked. The time stopped at 5 seconds as a loud buzzer sounded. She snapped her head towards the center of the ring, where she watched Rhett stagger to the side of the ring, and get pulled away from some of the hands. Y/N gasped as she pushed her way through the crowd, running to get back to him. 

“You can’t ride,” She heard one of the rodeo hands saying to her husband. 

“I have to,” Rhett’s voice was gravely, “Just pop it back in.” 

“Rhett,” Y/N said as she got over to him. His blue eyes looked up at her filled with guilt and sadness, “What happened?” She asked Michael. 

“Dislocated his shoulder on the fall,” Michael said, “He can forfeit and be fine.” 

“I’m not doing that,” Rhett said, “Pop the damn thing back in.” 

“Rhett,” She pleaded. 

“I have to,” Rhett said, “I have to do this. For you, for Amy. . . for our baby. Please, just hold my hand while they pop it back in.” Y/N nodded and rushed to his side. Rhett stood up, and grabbed Y/N’s hand tightly. She kissed the top of his head as a loud groan left his lips as Michael touched his arm. Michael looked over at Y/N and nodded, before popping the bone back in, “Son of a bitch!” Rhett yelled, and stumbled forward. Y/N moved out of the way as he vomited from the pain. 

“You’re okay,” Y/N rubbed his back, “When’s the next ride?” 

“Soon,” Michael said, “He’s gotta get into the chute.” 

Y/N nodded and grabbed Rhett’s face gently in her hands. He looked at her, the oceanic blue pools of his eyes wet with tears. She didn’t say anything, but kissed his cheek. Rhett closed his eyes as she left and walked back towards the stands. Rhett slowly opened his eyes and watched her walk away. 

“Let’s do this shit.”

— — — 

Y/N was kicking the gravel underneath her boots as she waited in the open area of the rodeo for Rhett. He was probably showering and changing, Y/N always made sure there was an extra set of clothes in the trailer for after the rodeo. Rhett had won his last ride, and ended up winning the whole competition. As Rhett stood up from the dirt after his last ride, he looked around the arena, taking in the sight of the town cheering for him, but his eyes locked on to Y/N, who was beaming with pride. The two of them could tell at that moment that everything had shifted. That a line had been drawn in the sand, and it was time for them to decide on what to do next. 

“Hey,” Rhett called out to her. Y/N looked up from the rock she had been kicking and smiled at the bull rider. 

“Hey yourself. Congrats-” 

“Leave with me,” Rhett said, cutting her off, “Please. I don’t have anyone here for me, besides you and Amy, and she already agreed to coming with me, so really, it's just you. And I am tired of everyone in this town seeing me as a fuck up. I don’t want our kid to have to deal with the same thing. I’m ready to leave, I need to. We need to.” 

“Rhett,” She sucked in a breath, “I’m sorry for what I said the other night. I got scared, I had never seen that side of you before. All I saw in that moment was everything I tried so hard to escape.” 

“I know,” Rhett took a step forward, “And I am so fucking sorry, darlin’. I never ever wanted you to see me like that, or make you feel like that again. I know what it did to your momma and I’m not going to do that to you. I promise, I will never ever hurt you or our baby.” 

Y/N smiled at the words ‘our baby’ leaving Rhett’s mouth. She stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of them. Rhett’s hand rested on her hip, the other one was being supported in a sling. She gently caressed his jaw, running her thumb over his stubble, before reaching up and plucking the hat off his head. Rhett smiled as she placed it on her own head. 

“Take me away from here, Cowboy.”

#outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range fan fiction #outer range imagine #Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x y/n #Rhett abbott x you

[violoncelle121]

My New KoF Headcanon

I am currently studying Biology for my college, and it is my Major. Some of the class lectures I remember listening to were the concepts of Evolution, an 'Early Earth', and Selective Breeding. So out of the things I have learned in those courses, I proposed a new headcanon for the fictional world of Geronimo Stilton and Elizabetta Dami's 'Kingdom of Fantasy' book series.

Remember, this theory is completely fan-made, so do not take this too seriously, and do not regard it as any original work from the author of the 'Kingdom of Fantasy' book series. 

~~ BEWARE OF SUGGESTIVE CONTENT AHEAD! DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THEMES SUCH AS GENOCIDE OR SOCIAL INJUSTICE! ~~

My idea suggests that before there was a diverse range of creatures living in such a world, there were two primeval species: Fairies (a more 'ancient' variety, not like the ones in the books) and Demons. The early Fairies were a species that came to the land by falling from the sky (like shooting stars), while the Demons were originally living in the Kingdom of Fantasy. At that time, there were still many 'pure-bred' Demon species and variants, dwelling in environments from mountains to forests, and even the oceans and ice caps. In addition to that, there were likely regular humans living in the early KoF already, but they did not play significant roles yet.

The early Fairies still had blue skin and two pairs of white wings (similar to those of the Crystal Castle today), but the wings of the ancient species were probably larger and scalier (especially on the outer layers to keep their wings safe from the elements). Supposedly made of cosmic material, it was believed that the Fairies could absorb and use energy from any celestial body, like the Sun, stars, or the Moon. Pure-bred Demons usually had animal-like legs, pointed ears, dark eyes for night-vision, claws, fangs, horns and/or tails, and occasionally a pair of large wings (depending on the environment). They were able to manipulate any kind of magic and transform into any kind of animal they chose. However, the one thing they had in common was the trait of having Souls highly saturated with magic.

Years have passed since the Fairies and Demons have tried to coexist with one another, then either species assumed that one was too powerful and too dangerous, so it was then decided that both could not handle putting aside their differences anymore. Over the eras, battles have clashed between the species, and there were laws that set them apart even more. This was until a ruling Fairy decided to capture pure-bred Demons and forcefully breed them with other species to decrease their magical capabilities. This condition has remained for several generations, while many pure-breds and Fairies who opposed that heinous tactic were executed. The energy in their Souls were then used to enhance weapons.

As a result of such injustice, newer and lesser species have been formed, such as Shapeshifters, Elves, Mer-folk, Wizards/Witches, and other beings, including new Fairy varieties (probably descending from the ones that opposed the genocide of the Demons). However, some Fairies still decided to keep their 'purity' by disregarding certain species, such as the 'evil' Wizards/Witches and Dark Fairies, believing that they were and are the closest things to Demons.

I am still trying my best to develop this fan-made theory, but I still hope you enjoyed reading it. On the other hand, I cannot put this idea into one large fanfiction because it is complicated and time/energy consuming, and I am already busy enough as it is. However, I can sneak in some references of this in my Kingdom of Fantasy fanfics in future chapters. Feel free to post any comments and suggestions. Thank you for reading this, and stay fantastic!

#Geronimo Stilton #Thea Stilton #GeronimoStiltonKingdomofFantasy #kingdom of fantasy #regno della fantasia #reino de la fantasia #fantasia #book theories #fanmade #original concepts #elizabetta dami #fairies #demons #fanfictions

[basiccortez]

Kinks HC- R. Abbott 

pairing: Rhett Abbott x female!reader word count: 2k warnings: THIS IS ABOUT KINKS, READ WITH CAUTION. sir kink, impact play, brat tamer, rope play, sadism, consensual non-consent, Dacryphilia, dumbification, safe wording. note: thanks to the discord for letting me bounce some ideas off of you!

Sir Kink:

Rhett loves power, he likes to be in control. You can see from the way he reacts in certain situations. He didn’t flat out say that he was a kink for domination, but you could read between the lines 

The second that your lips tremble out the word: “Sir” he’s a goner. He pauses for a second as he’s placing sloppy, hot, wet kisses on your neck and looks at you. You can see the darkness pooling in his blue eyes. 

After that night it became a common thing between the two of you. Most people didn’t bat an eye as you would respond to Rhett saying, “yes sir” , “no sir.” It seemed like just a nicety to them. But it had Rhett thinking of just about anything to stop the blood flow straight to his cock. 

The answer to Rhett was usually “yes sir,” whenever he would ask or say something, but if you were feeling bratty you would throw in a “no sir”. And Jesus lord have mercy, that would be the damn near end of you. Rhett would stop and look over his shoulder and be like: “what was that?” 

And that’s how you find yourself tied to the bed with a vibrator between your legs. He’s standing in the corner of the room just watching you whither and whine. 

“I bet this isn’t what you thought you would get yourself into when you decided to be a brat?” 

And every time you’d get close to cumming, Rhett would just know. He’d walk over to the bed and turn the vibrator down and look at you, “You have to ask,” 

“Can I cum, sir?” 

“You’re so fucking pretty, yes cum for me.” Rhett would turn it back up and watch as you cry. 

“Oh thank you, sir!” You let out a broken cry as he finally lets you release the built up tension in your body. 

Brat Tamer: 

As mentioned above with the sir kink, Rhett is also a brat tamer. With years of experience with rope, he knows exactly what he is doing. 

The first time you got mouthy with him, he quickly put you in your place. It was before he was going to ride and you had been nipping at his heels all day. He was focused on rodeo days and it was hard to break that focus and you just wanted an ounce of attention. 

“Rhett-” You whined out but it was cut off by his hand coming around your throat. 

“Shut the fuck up. You’ve been acting like a goddamn spoiled brat all day. Quit fucking whinning,” 

Needless to say you shut up real quick and felt your panties dampen as he walked away and over to the riders only area. You thought that after he won the rodeo that you would be forgiven for acting like a brat but you were wrong. So very, very wrong. 

“You think I just forgot how you acted earlier? Nah, you need to be taught a lesson in respect, girl.” 

You knew from then on out that you needed to act right, but you couldn’t help but be defiant (especially when the consequence felt oh so good). Rhett would give you a warning look if you started to act up, and you would stop your little act for a bit. But it never lasted long. 

“Excuse me boys, I gotta head out,” He said one night as you guys were grabbing a drink with Perry and one of the rodeo hands. You had gone and decided to flirt your way to getting a free drink, which Rhett was not happy about. “I gotta take my girl home to bed-” 

“It’s not even that late-” 

“We’re going. To. bed.” Rhett said through gritted teeth, and you whimpered as you squeezed your thighs together. 

Rhett wasn’t always mean as a brat tamer, no he was very caring as well. After every session that he had you tied up and crying he would take good care of you. Getting you something to eat, something to drink, putting ointment on your bruised wrists. 

Impact Play/Sadism: 

Growing up, Rhett always liked to see the bruises and cuts that he got from working hard on the ranch and riding bulls. What he didn’t know is that it would transfer into something else. 

The first time he had left a bruise on you, tiny finger bruises from grabbing your hips while you were riding him, he was enthralled. You didn’t seem to mind it, liking the pain from his hand, and you also liked seeing the bruises too. 

Slowly Rhett’s obsession with seeing bruises moved from the small ones left on your hips or thighs, intimate places, to being on more “public” surfaces, such as your knees or ass cheeks. 

One day Rhett was pissed at Perry, and was searching you out for relief. He walked into the house and saw you making pies with his mother. Rhett muttered something about needing you for a second and pulled you away from the house. He took you out behind the stable and pushed you down into the rock, pulling his cock out and pushing your head down to suck him off. 

“Fuck I need this. Perry being a fucking asshole and my dad, Jesus your mouth was made for me,” Rhett mumbled, making a make-shift ponytail in his hand and guided your head up and down his length. You could feel the rocks digging into your knees and you knew you would have bruises from the impact of you landing hard on them. Rhett fucked your face without a care of you gasping for air, or your tears or who could catch you two. When Rhett came, shooting hot ropes down your throat, you swallowed all of it. He tucked himself back in his jeans and then helped you up. 

“Got you a bit dirty,” He smirked and brushed off the dirt and rock from your knees. He felt his dick stir again seeing the bruises left behind. He stood up straight and grabbed your face with both his hands and kissed you roughly, “Better get back to Ma.” You nodded and Rhett sent you on your way with one rough smack to your ass making you yelp. 

That wasn’t the end of Rhett pushing you down on hard surfaces to suck him off. It came to the point where you almost constantly had bruises on your knees. 

But the bruises didn’t stop there, nah, Rhett loved to leave your ass red and bruised as well. Which goes back to the sir, brat tamer kink. If you disobeyed Rhett, he would have you over his knee counting the spanks until you were crying so hard you lost count. Rhett would love to see your ass red, the broken skin taking days to heal. 

Most of the family (Cecilia and Royal) ignored the way you would walk funny or the bright red marks on your knees, except Perry (but he learned his lesson one day). 

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” Perry whispered to Rhett one day in church as he watched her shift around in her chair and noticed her knees. 

“Needed taught a lesson,” Rhett mumbled back. 

Dacryphilia (crying kink): 

It has been mentioned several times that Rhett loves to see you cry. He gets off on it. 

The first time you cried during sex, he felt a pain of guilt and stuttered in his thrusts but the moan you let out told him that he didn’t need to stop. 

His favorite thing was to ruin your makeup, seeing the smudged mascara down your cheeks after he fucked your throat, or spanked you. He was so condescending about it too. 

“Aw my poor baby, spent all that time getting ready just to have it all ruined.”

He loved when you would become cock dumb that the only thing you could do was cry about how good you were getting fucked. 

Afterwards though, he was always sweet, holding you as you cried in overstimulation, and would wipe your tears.  

Dumbification: 

It’s simple, Rhett likes to fuck you dumb. He is probably a bit of a sadist, and loves to make fun of you for it. 

Like you had been mouthing off and smarting back to him all day, and even while he was fucking you. But the second he’s got you in complete submission and just railing you to the point where there isn’t a single coherent thought in your head had him laughing. 

“What happened to my smart girl? So fucking dumb for my cock, now aren’t ya.” 

“Come on, use those big girl words?” 

“God such a dumb cock slut, can’t even talk right.” 

Voyeurism: 

Rhett isn’t afraid to have sex wherever and whenever. Actually, he thinks the idea of being caught is very hot. Which is why he quite literally will take you anywhere and everywhere. 

Behind the stables? Yes. Outside his trailer at a rodeo? Yes. Bathroom of the Handsome Gambler? Yes. Yes. Yes. 

The idea that someone could walk in and see him fucking the life out of you is just so appealing. The one time that Luke Tillerson walked in on him fucking you over the bathroom sink at the Pit Bar plays in Rhett’s mind rent free. 

“Holy fuck, I’m- Really? Classy Rhett?” 

“You see how fucking hot she is? She was just begging for this, weren’t ya baby?” You answered Rhett with a loud moan and he smirked, looking up in the mirror to see Luke staring at you, which pissed Rhett off, “This ain’t no free show Tillerson, pay up or get out,” 

He loves it when you’re loud too (except his family doesn’t but you could care less when Rhett is balls deep inside of you). Royal and Cecilia have learned to stay away from areas of the ranch if they know that Rhett took you somewhere. Perry has walked in on Rhett one too many times. 

“Jesus Christ, Rhett, Y/N, this is the living room!” Perry yelled as he walked in the house to see Rhett eating you out on the couch. 

“I know, and I am living,” Rhett smirked and this fucker has no shame and dove right back inbetween your thighs. 

“Gonna have to burn that fucking couch,” Perry muttered and walked up to his room. 

Rhett also likes to watch you get off. He knows what you get up to when he is gone for long periods of time for rodeos. He loves to sit in a chair in his room and watch you get yourself off. He’ll direct you a little bit, but mostly lets you run the show. 

“Curl your fingers baby, yeah, there ya go.” “Pinch your nipple.” “Slap your pussy. Such a good girl.”

Consensual, non-consent (thank you @hederasgarden for awakening this in me) 

The idea of you allowing him to take you in your most vulnerable form was a huge fucking turn-on in itself. You had been hinting at it for a while, telling Rhett that you were okay if he woke you up with sex, or head. Then it came to the conversation that you were okay if he just walked up and took what was his. You two established a safe word, and boundaries beforehand. 

The first time Rhett walked into the house, seeing you in a dress with your apron on setting the table, Rhett just had to have you. He walked right in, bent you over the table, pulled your panties down and took you. It was the most glorious thing. You little yelps for him to stop which was covered by moans. 

After that if you guys were going to do it, you talked about it beforehand, basically like scheduling the day. And you would do it in other places except your bedroom, i.e the stables, the pasture, his truck. It just added to the whole ordeal. 

Rhett was always careful to watch your body language for any chance that you wanted to stop, which was even more of a turn on for you. 

He loved when you would fight him, trying to get out of his grasp as he held your arms down. Watching your squirm and kick under him as he pressed his weight into your body and would just take what he wanted. Your fighting would stop the second he pushed his cock into your pussy. 

Bonus: how would Rhett react to getting safeworded? 

The second you say the safeword, which would be “buffalo”, he’s stopping everything. And the guilt would fill his body immediately. 

How did he not see this beforehand? Had you dropped too far into subspace? What did he do wrong? What was he not watching? 

He’d tell you everything he was doing from untying your wrists, to pulling out of you. And he did everything slowly, making sure to kiss every bruise, every mark that was left behind. He would whisper sweet nothings against your skin as he slowly moved you both to laying down on the bed. 

He noticed that far away look in your eye and could see that you let yourself go to subspace. He was patient as he held you tightly, knowing that you wanted the feeling of his body weight when you dropped. 

He’d hold you as you shook, your body trying to regulate itself. He would shush your little whimpers as you clung to him. 

“Can you tell me your name?” He would always ask you that question after you would call the safeword, it was his way of trying to coax you out of subspace. 

“. . . Y/N. . . “ You breathed out. 

“Good girl, that’s a good girl.” Rhett kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry.” 

THE KING OF AFTERCARE 

Once he felt like you were a little more stable, your body not shaking uncontrollably, your tears drying, your brain being able to string together small sentences, he would go get you a small snack and a gatorade. He’d sit you between his legs, holding you against his chest as you ate and drank the electrolytes. Rhett would turn on some stupid netflix show that you like just to get your mind back from subspace. He would place small kisses on your bare shoulder or forehead from time to time. 

“I’m gonna go draw you a bath.” 

“With a bath bomb? 

Rhett sighed, he hated those fucking pink glittery things, but he was so whipped by you, “Yes, of course,” 

And that’s how Rhett found himself in a bathtub with you against his chest surrounded by pink bubbles and rose petals.

--- --- ---

note: time to go bathe in holy water. If y'all want me to dive in deeper to any of these. . . my requests are open! also let me know if you want to be added to my Rhett taglist!

taglist: @mayhem24-7forever @blue-aconite @callsign-phoenix @wildbornsiren @hederasgarden @hoe-on-the-range @skvatnavle @mrsroosterbradshaw02 @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-natrace

#outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fic #outer range fanfic #outer range fan fiction #outer range smut #outer range Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott fic #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott smut #Rhett abbott x you #Rhett abbott x reader

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Outer Range

Rhett Abbott

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott fan fiction #outerrange #lewis pullman

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Outer Range Season 2: The Mystery Deepens in the Official Trailer

The vast expanse of Wyoming’s wilderness is set to bewitch viewers once again as Prime Video releases the official trailer for the much-anticipated second season of Outer Range. The supernatural drama that captivated audiences with its first season promises to delve deeper into the abyss of mystery surrounding the Abbott family ranch. A Glimpse into the Void The trailer, spanning just under three minutes, propels the characters further into the void at the edge of the Abbott’s property. Royal Abbott, portrayed by the formidable Josh Brolin, continues his quest to uncover the truth behind the otherworldly phenomenon that has upended his family’s life

. New Horizons in Storytelling Season 2 of Outer Range is a continuation and an expansion of its narrative horizons. The stakes are higher, the mysteries more profound, and the family drama more intense. The trailer teases unforeseen circumstances that could shake the very foundations of time itself, hinting at a season that will challenge the character's—and the audience’s—perception of reality.    The ensemble cast, including Lili Taylor, Imogen Poots, Lewis Pullman, and others, return to reprise their roles, promising performances that are as compelling as the storyline. Josh Brolin’s directorial debut in the penultimate episode of the season is an additional highlight, adding a new layer of artistic depth to the series. Beyond its sci-fi elements, "Outer Range" explores themes of family, identity, and the unknown. Through its characters and storylines, the series delves into complex issues and challenges viewers to contemplate deeper questions about life and existence. Mark Your Calendars Outer Range Season 2 is set to premiere on May 16, with all seven episodes dropping simultaneously for viewers to binge. The trailer has set the stage for a season that will undoubtedly be a topic of discussion for both critics and fans alike. As the trailer for Outer Range Season 2 makes its debut, the anticipation builds for what is poised to be a riveting journey back into the unknown. With its blend of Western drama and science fiction, Outer Range continues to carve out a unique niche in the television landscape. Don’t miss the premiere on Prime Video and be part of the adventure that unfolds.

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#amazonprime #JoshBrolin #OuterRange #scifi #sciencefiction #tvseries