#outer range fanfic

[sebsxphia]

gentle, rough and loving.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett abbott’s aftercare is the final piece to the puzzle you need.

￫ word count: 2.5K.

￫ music: listen to the incredible and beautiful playlist made by @laracrofted for this fic here! 💽

￫ c/w: endings of smut, endings of BDSM/rough sex, mentions of BDSM, rope, derogatory language used towards reader, one mention of no previous aftercare in previous relationships, sub space, soothing injuries, kissing, swearing, rhett giving you proper aftercare, rhett being an absolute sweetheart and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: i’m dedicating this piece to the wonderfully talented @lewmagoo. their writing is absolutely phenomenal, and what always gets me most, is the beautiful aftercare that they write. therefore, this piece was born! please kindly check out their writing, i cannot recommend it enough! <3 i hope you enjoy! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Gentle, rough and loving are the three words you would use to describe what it felt like to make love to Rhett Abbott. He had your face pushed down with one hand, onto the hard and cold floorboards of your living room floor. His other hand was gripping at your hip so hard, you knew his fingertips would leave bruises. Yet, the hand that was pressed on your face had his fingers curling round to the rise of your cheek, so the wooden floorboards wouldn’t hurt too much. The hand on your hip worked to steady your wrecked frame, so you would never fall forward and hurt your neck.

He had secured your wrists tightly together with some rope. The rope itself wasn’t some tattered and fraying rope that he had found in his barn, no. Rhett had insisted that he purchased proper bondage rope. Your safety was of the upmost importance to him, regardless that he was treating you like a common whore in this very moment. He used his extensive, and ever growing knowledge of cowboy knots, to tie your wrists together and let them rest on the arch of your back. It was the perfect centre of gravity so that you wouldn’t topple over when his thrusts became particularly rough.

At the beginning of your relationship, before any rougher type of sex had occurred, you explained to Rhett your prior experience of aftercare with previous partners was, minimal, to say the least. It was during the quiet confines of your shared bed during one moonlit night. You remember the look on his face, shadowed gently by the moonlight filtering in through your lacy curtains. His face contorted into hard lines above his eyebrows, yet his eyes still wore a soft and loving gaze for you. He was both angry beyond belief that no one would take care of you like that, and deeply consoling to your fears and hurt.

“I promise you, I’ll never let that happen to you, m’love. You’re safe with me. I hope y’ can come to trust me, in time.”

He understood that he had to earn that trust from you in time, and he made a promise to himself that gentle night that he would.

A year later and Rhett had kept his promise.

After the scene was over and he came down from his own ecstasy inducing high, the word loving, was about to replace the word rough. He could still hear your faint whimpers that escaped your mouth in time with your body twitching from your heightened sensitivity. With heightened caution, he slowly slipped his fingers out from under your cheek to allow for your face to gently meet the floorboards. His other hand still had a hold on your hips to steady you, but his moved his fingertips an inch upwards so he wouldn’t press down on the particularly sore points. His hand from your face traveled over the base of your skull, along your spine in your neck and dipped in between your shoulder blades. This was when you first registered his voice.

“Darlin’, can y’ feel that? Feel my hand on your neck?” You let out a small grunt in response. You had intended it to be a hum in agreement, but with lack of water it distorted your voice. He understood your tone none the less and made a mental note to get you water as soon as he was able. He continued to trace your spine with his hand until he reached your tied wrists. He was allowing you to feel his gentle touch, to remind you that his far rougher touch was finished now. His fingertips reached your bound wrists and you heard him speak again.

“I’m goin’ un-tie your wrists now, darlin’. I won’t let y’ go, I promise.” He worked his set of fingers nimbly to un-tie the knots. He only ever used knots that were quick and easy to un-tie, especially with one hand. As you felt the rope be pulled out from underneath your wrists like a table cloth off a table, your wrists went limp and they slid down your hips. Rhett was quick to grasp onto them to allow your centre of gravity to stay. You huffed out a groan that he could only register as, exhaustion.

He made another mental note. “Your poor back and wrists, they must be so sore. Cream, after water.”

“Shh, m’love. I know, I know. I’m goin’ turn you over now, okay?” The hand on your hip guided you down to the floor and then slid round to your belly, to turn you around to face him. The gentle hold on your wrists let go momentarily before he gathered them back in his hand to rest on your stomach. He had you turned over and now sat in his lap, as he sat on the floor. He had one hand resting in between your shoulder blades, allowing him to hold you up right and see your face. Your cheeks were flushed a rosy red, with tear stains tracking down your flesh. Your eyes were drooping and completely glazed over, and you wore a cock drunk, lopsided smile.

He was proud that he could fuck you so good that you would end up as a wreck like this, but that was done now. It was now his responsibility to be gentle and loving with you, and take care of you.

“Can you tell me your name?” Rhett avoided using any pet names that would be used during a scene like that, as to not push you into subspace any further.

“Bambi?” You croaked out with your eyebrows furrowing slightly. His lips quirked up in the corner of his mouth, but he kept it hidden from you.

“That’s not your name right now. Can y’ tell me your name?”

Your brow furrowed deeper and you inhaled a shaky breath. Your glazed over eyes scanned his face and he felt a wave of relief when he saw your eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly. It was a tell tale sign that you were coming back around and you remembered Rhett as your lover and someone who was safe, to you. You called out your own name and he placed a softening kiss to your forehead with praise.

“Atta’ girl.” He beamed in delight. “That’s your name ‘nd I’m here to take care of y’ now, okay, darlin’?” You nodded in response and removed your hands from his to grab onto the collar of his plaid shirt. You buried your face into his neck, letting your cheeks scratch over his stubble and your nose inhale his familiar scent, grounding you further.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett…” You mumbled incoherently into his flesh.

He smiled to himself and moved his hand to cradle your head. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s me, you’re safe now. I’m gon’ take y’ upstairs ‘nd get y’ cleaned up, okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder and let him scoop you up under your thighs, allowing himself to get off his knees and cradled you next to his torso. He carried you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, letting you down softly onto the mattress below. He shed his own plaid shirt and instructed you to sit up briefly. He guided your arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around your bare chest, noticing you were shivering slightly. You held tightly onto his biceps as he pulled away from you. There was a look in your eyes, a pleading desperation for Rhett not to leave you. He recognized it instantly and reassured you within a second.

“I jus’ need to get y’ some water and ointment first, m’love. I’m gon’ be ten seconds.” He pressed another praising kiss to your forehead. Your glazed over eyes looked almost tearful and it caused his stomach to drop through the floor. It teared at his heartstrings, knowing that you entrusted him so deeply like this.

You watched as he left your bedroom, with the glass from your nightstand in his hand. You kept your eyes intently focused on the doorway and awaited for his return from the bathroom. You heard the faucet running and the pipes shaking throughout the rest of your home. When he returned, you held out your hand, as to beckon him for his reassuring presence. He squatted down by the bedside and handed you the glass. He reached up to brush the hair out of your eyes, looking up at you with a prideful smile when you gulped down the soothing liquid within seconds.

“I’ll get y’ another glass in a bit. Can I have your wrists first, please?”

Rhett was well aware of the fuzzy headspace that you could be in. Regardless of the stage, he understood that you may be unable to communicate back to him. Therefore, asking for your permission, or telling you what he was doing was always first on his mind.

You held out your wrists and let him take them delicately into his own hands. His calloused fingertips had always been rough, since the day you met him, but somehow, when they were drawing over your skin it seemed as though it was a featherlight and tender touch. You adored how your rough and tough cowboy, could be so gentle and loving.

He moved the ointment over your wrists and asked you to sit up next so he could soothe your aching back. He could feel your eyes fixated on him the whole time. You were tracing and following his every move. But he knew it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it was because you were finally receiving the proper aftercare that you deserved and you wanted to burn it into your memory forever. He could feel how your body was keening into his loving touch, with every simple swipe and stroke of the cooling ointment. When his fingertips ran over your wrist, he could sense your pulse coming back to a resting rate, which pleased him greatly.

When the pain points that he was aware of were covered, he moved onto your needs that you perhaps hadn’t yet communicated to him.

“Darlin’, can y’ tell, or point, to any other parts that hurt, please?” You out stretched your finger to point at your knees and he let out a quiet chuckle to himself. “Of course. I’m not surprised, y’ took me s’ well, sweetheart.”

He moved up and onto the bed, and caught your gaze in the process. Your eyes had lit up and sparkled brightly at his sweet praise. Your mouth was parted with an anticipated smile.

“I— I did?”

Your fingers twiddled with one another in your lap. He recognized how your body language shifted and the look you wore on your face. You were asking for praise and reassurance, something that you had never had prior.

“Oh, m’love,” he scooted up to where you sat against the headboard. He knelt next to you and took your face in his hands again. “You did incredible for me. I’m s’ proud of you. You’re such a good bunny for me.” He leaned down to gingerly press a kiss to your cheek but your lips met his instead. You hovered mere millimeters away from his lips and you swore you could’ve felt a zap! of electricity connect you both. You felt his warm breath fan over your lips and you gazed up at him through your lashes.

He swallowed thickly and his voice got caught in his throat. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?”

“Please, Rhett.” You breathlessly pleaded. He leaned in to meet your lips and your body almost went limp against his. The first loving kiss that came after a particularly rough fucking, was always the final piece to the puzzle. Like clockwork, you came back around and you were now fully understanding of your surroundings and who you were with. You were with your Rhett, who was gentle, rough and loving.

He pulled away, with you both letting out a small gasp at the sudden contact of air. He held your gaze for a couple of moments longer. He loved the way how you keened into his touch, how you were moving your face to press your cheeks harder against his large hands.

“Let me finish taking care of your knees, ‘nd then I’ll cuddle up close to you, okay?” You nodded in his hold and let him slip away, back down to your legs.

Moments later your body was smoothed out with the ointment, you had another glass of water down you and you had been moved back into Rhett’s arms. He’d pulled out your old laptop from underneath your bed to watch something easy, alongside some emergencies snacks for occasions such as these.

He had taken his plaid shirt off you at your request. You wanted to feel the ever comforting feeling of skin on skin contact. He was sat back against the headboard with you in between his legs. His broad and toned thighs were locking around you and keeping you protected. His hands ran up and down your arms in soothing strokes, and sketched out mindless shapes on your flesh. He occasionally dipped into the snack you had in your hand to feed you one or feed himself, which always earned a giggle from you.

“Do y’ want a bath after this, darlin’? I’ll give y’ a proper massage too, the lavender oil and everythin’.”

Your head rolled back into the crook of his neck and onto his shoulder. You let out a satisfied hum and looked upwards towards Rhett. Your hands moved to cradle the back of his skull and toy with the lick of hairs at the base of his neck. He craned his face down to catch your satisfied, yet still drooping gaze.

“Please, lover.” You paused for a second and sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re s’ gentle, rough and loving to me.”

If your hand was on his chest right now, you’d be able to feel his heart beating in double time. So fast, it could burst right through his chest. Your trust was solidified in Rhett and it made his heart feel as though there was a bed of wildflowers blooming inside of him.

“Anythin’ for you, m’love. I’ll always take care of you.”

“I’ll always take care of you too, cowboy.”

Your own statement was as true as his. After a particularly rough ride and having his knees scraped and his shoulder pushed out of his socket, you would be there. Your hands would roughly grip at his chest and shoulder to pop the bone back in its place, but your hands would turn gentle as you pressed the cotton pad to his bloodied knees. You would lovingly run your hands through his hair as he lay with his cheek pressed on your bare chest, when the exhaustion would wrack his body entirely.

You loved and cared so deeply for each other, that you both knew no one would, or could, ever match that.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97

tagging who maybe be interested: @sunblchdfly @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @peachystenbrough @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

#(also i hope you all get the header showcasing rhett being gentle rough and loving. okay thank u <3) #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #outer range #outer range x reader #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #outer range imagine #outer range drabble #outer range smut #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

[sushiwriterhere]

right where i want you

summary: "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader word count: 6.1k warnings: sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n.  notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog🗣😼 i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horse’s coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasn’t changed a thing, it seems. 

“Rhett Abbott you leave me alone or I’ll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.” You don’t even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean he’ll leave. He won’t. And he never does.

“How’d ‘ya know it was me?” You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know that’s what he wants.

You still don’t turn around to face him. “Because y’never leave me alone.” 

“I’m jus’ sweet on ‘ya. Couldn’t help it if I tried. Besides, missed ‘ya while ‘ya were away at that fancy east coast school o’ yours.”

“Well, have you tried?” You ignore the second part of what he said–you’re back for the summer, and you really haven’t been gone all that long even if your parents act like you’ve come back from the dead.

That pulls a laugh from him. 

For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabang’s sheriff didn’t seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around. 

“Nope,” He lets his lips pop dramatically on the ‘p’ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, “Plus, you’re real cute when you’re mad.”

All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush you’ve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression he’s wearing in that moment because it’s the same one he’s had every other time he’s taunted you. 

“Decide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastin’ my time.” You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though. 

“Aw, don’t get too upset now,” He pushes himself off the stall door he’d been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.

You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If he’s ever going to leave you alone.

“I didn’t come by to bother ‘ya, honest.” He murmurs.

You don’t grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.

“I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight, everyone’s been missin’ ‘ya. Whole town’s in uproar that you’re back.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.

You’re loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhett’s always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while you’d been away is not part of your calculus.

-

For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. He’s a liar and you’re a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofa—

You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhett’s eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde who’s grasping the collar of his flannel. 

In missing Rhett’s gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time you’re in the parking lot, it’s too late to turn around. James is between you and the door. 

He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “Wait up!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You really don’t want to deal with him right now, you don’t want to deal with any men, for that matter. 

“I said wait.” His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. There’s nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and you’re certain he won’t just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.

“Now that you’re back, I’m going to take you out to dinner.” James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you haven’t lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states. 

You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriends–always holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. There’s nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.

“No, thank you, James. I really should get going.” You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that he’ll change his mind. 

You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough. 

His demeanor switches in an instant.

“You think just ‘cause you’re the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swoonin’ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.” The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, “Why I ought’a teach you a lesson.”

When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, you’re outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.

Instead of James’ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhett’s voice breaks the moment, “Earl, I’ll make ‘ya sorry ‘ya ever look’d at ‘er if ‘ya don’t step away right now.” 

There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. You’d call him your savior if you don’t blame him somehow; if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldn’t be here. 

“Like hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.” James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.

You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots. 

They soil your plan for a hasty escape. It’s Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second they’re yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on James’ face and you aren’t sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not. 

“Stop it!” You try to at least get Rhett’s attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. “Rhett Abbott you fool, get off’a him!”

All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. You’re standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; there’s blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhett’s. Suddenly they’re being pulled apart.

You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, “You ever try that shit with me again I’ll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.”

His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like he’s considering spitting in your face, “Still hiding behind your daddy? Figures.”

He’s hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but he’s simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No one’s restraining him anymore, they’re all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that it’s just the two of you in the parking lot at that point. 

You make your decision in an instant, “Give me your keys.” 

You don’t get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesn’t move. 

“Rhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.” 

He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, “Tryin’ to take me home, sugar?”

Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You don’t check if he’s following you, some part of you knows you don’t need to. 

You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. It’s deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you. 

As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when he’d bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbott’s was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies. 

You’d watched the chaos from afar until he’d lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. You’d looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didn’t like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.

He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldn’t even let them touch the keys.

Now here you are, driving his truck like it’s your own without a single complaint from him. 

When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way you’d gotten in–without a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. It’s almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that he’s inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming. 

Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, “Now why’d ‘ya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?”

Rhett looks like he’s just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You don’t miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. There’s a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks. 

“I’m the one startin’ shit? He was tryin’ somethin’ with you!” He takes a step toward you but you don’t move, “Earl’s a piece of shit and he got what was comin’ to him. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“I had it handled.” Your defense is instinctual–knee jerk, even—everyone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and you’re sick of it. 

“Did ‘ya?” You’re toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. “‘Cause what I saw said somethin’ else.”

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible. 

“I’m not arguin’ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean ‘ya up.” 

For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. You’ve turned on one of the living room lights, but there’s still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earl’s nose and cheeks. 

“Now keep bein’ all tough, I better not hear ‘ya bitchin’ about the antiseptic hurtin’.” You don’t have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle. 

He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he won’t be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.

He doesn’t comment on your position at his knees. 

“Earl’s nose better be fuckin’ broken.” Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands. 

You don’t grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

When you return to him, he hasn’t moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden you’re kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like he’s holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.

“I need to make sure he didn’t break yours.” It’s a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he won’t call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones. 

He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; it’s uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasn’t worn them in a long while. 

Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if he’s trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesn’t grip them, doesn’t let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.

“Looks fine to me.” You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He’s trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only he’s breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.

You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because they’re a man and you’re not. But with Rhett, you can tell you’ve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress. 

Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. It’s silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. He’s so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.

Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. He’s like a foal in the way you’re unsure of how he’ll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.

He doesn’t bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. You’re not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.

“Are you going to behave, Rhett?” Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.

He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way he’s hard against you. 

He likes it. He likes the way you’ve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isn’t fighting you, he isn’t arguing–for once in his life, he’s quiet in your presence. 

The realization of how obedient he’s being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what you’d done to him the night before.

“You’ve spent all this time pullin’ my pigtails, and now that I’m here you can’t even form words.” He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.

You want to hate him. 

Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way he’s spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

“Whatever,” His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, “Whatever you want, sugar. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“And if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?” You aren’t going to make this easy on him. 

Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, you’re not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. You’re grateful he was there, you are. But you didn’t need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.

“Now, sugar, I find it hard to believe—”

You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand that’s leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that you’d actually get up and leave. 

“Try again.” You don’t change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.

“Whatever you want, goes.” He swallows slowly before speaking again, “Will you just–Will you please sit back down?” 

He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.

You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, “Does this turn you on, Rhett?” You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, “Not much of a big, bad, man now, are ‘ya?”

To your surprise, that doesn’t set him off. Most men wouldn’t let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly. 

“Like I said, whatever you want, sugar–I just want ‘ya to use me. Be good for something,” He licks his lips and exhales shakily, “Be good for you.” 

Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesn’t waver for a single moment. 

Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. They’ve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhett’s eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap. 

“So this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?” You’re goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what he’ll let you get away with. 

With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isn’t hiding, not in the slightest.

Now that you’re this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that he’s so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you don’t hate Rhett Abbott. 

In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether he’s around or not. When you’d gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. You’d half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.

(What you don’t know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. He’d looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time you’d rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, “fuck off”.)

“Can I kiss ‘ya?” His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like it’s a nervous habit. 

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, “That’s not what I meant and y’know it.”

Finally, you press your lips to his. They’re soft and warm and he’s so much better of a kisser than everyone else you’ve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp. 

You don’t expect it to feel so good. It’s one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, it’s a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You can’t stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly. 

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined,” He sighs, pushing up against the hand that’s still around his throat. 

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off, Rhett.” You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.

But it seems he’s given up the fight now that you’re right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesn’t matter.”

Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that he’s got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You could’ve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never would’ve occurred to you that this is how he’d be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.

You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.

The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand won’t stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. It’s mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck. 

“Cum for me, sugar,” Then, as if he’s anticipating your chastisement, he adds, “Please.”

Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize you’re chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesn’t let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating. 

“Fuck, Jesus,” He gasps, and after a moment, “I’ll be thinking ‘bout that til I die,” He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You want to tease him about taking the Lord’s name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, it’s quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that he’s still hard under you, but he isn’t making any moves to change that. 

He starts to shift under you like he’s considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him. 

“Ah ah, I’m not finished with you yet,” His eyes snap to yours in surprise.

“Rhett Abbott. Tellin’ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?” You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, “Prove it.”

Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesn’t stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him. 

“Can I–Can I keep going?” He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, “Like it when it, ah, when it hurts.”

God, this is what you’ve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls he’s been with do this to him. But something tells you that isn’t the case–you really don’t want it to be.

The whines and gasps he’s letting out as he’s writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. You’re only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch. 

It’s terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.

“What are you playin’ at?” You can’t help but settle back into your old ways–the Rhett Abbott you’ve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way he’s looking at you sets you off kilter. 

When he laughs at the way you’re starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, “Knock it off, Rhett. You’re bein’ an asshole.”

But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

As if anticipating the way you’re going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. It’s nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time it’s something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way. 

“I hate you, Rhett Abbott,” You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used to–this time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him. 

He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he might’ve figured it out too–that you don’t hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.

You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way he’s staring at you expectantly. 

He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. He’s a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that you’ll disturb the moment somehow.

The shower proceeds without a hitch. It’s oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that he’s still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if he’d done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.

When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after you’ve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?

Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, “You always smell so good, I spent ages tryin’ to figure out which one you were usin’. Just bought all of ‘em at some point.”

You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You don’t have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him. 

“It’s this one.” 

The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if he’ll ever stop making you feel like that–simultaneously like a trapped animal and like you’re the only girl he’s ever seen. You wonder if this (there’s a ‘this’?) will last long enough for you to find out.

He lends you one of his shirts and you’re pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.

“You’re a vision for a blind man, sugar,” His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, “Now come to bed.”

It’s something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. You’re immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you don’t fight him.

“You okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.” His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.

Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. There’s barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.

“I don’t think I hate you.” 

He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that he’s laughing.

“I’m sorry, sugar, c’mere,” He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, “I’m not laughin’ at you, I’m laughin’ only ‘cause I never hated you. I don’t really think you hated me either.”

“Hey!” You’re indignant, “Rhett Abbott, who’re you to tell me how I feel?”

“Alright, alright, sugar, I’ll take ‘yer word for it. My heroics do it for ‘ya?” You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.

“The way you almost got the snot beat outta ‘ya? Sure.” Scoffing, you turn yourself over so you’re facing away from him again, only you don’t move out of his arms. 

He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. You’re not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. You’ll just have to see.

#walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbot smut #rhett abbott x you #outer range fic #outer range fanfic #outer range fanfiction #no use of y/n

[cherrycola27]

Idle Hands

Author's Note: I want to preface this by saying I know that this isn't my usual content. This mini-series is a result of my insomnia fueled rewatch of Outer Range, adhd, the high amount of Lew content we have been getting lately, and my dive back into country music. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, violence/ fighting, rodeo inaccuracies, smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Next Part

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Part 1: The Devil's Handiwork

Rhett hadn't planned to end up at the Handsome Gambler tonight, honestly.

But with Perry in jail, his parents on the outs, and Maria having left town, the Abbott house was just too—quiet.

So, he hopped in his beat-up old truck and headed into town. He had only planned to stay for one beer, really. But after he finished it, he realized that another one couldn't hurt. And boy, was he glad he talked himself into a second one.

Truthfully, Rhett was on his fourth beer now. But that was all because of you. Your band had been setting up when he first walked in and took a seat at the bar. Rhett had scoffed and rolled his eyes when he saw you.

You had on some well-worn cowboy boots, a flannel draped over you, and a pair of blue jeans that had to have been painted on because the fit you just right.

He figured you were one of those pop-country wannabes that seems to grace the bar more and more frequently.

But the minute you stepped on stage, Rhett knew he was wrong about you. You were different in the best way.

You didn't sing the songs that were all over the radio, that were upbeat, and full of life.

No. You sang songs about love and loss and betrayal. Songs that reminded him of the old country his father had raised him on.

And you were so convincing when sang them. Your words haunted him. The shake of your silver tambourine enchanted him. Drawing him in with every note. They bar must have had almost fifty people in it from here or there, but Rhett swore that you were singing right to him.

He was so bewitched watching you that he didn't realize how much time had passed. Soon, you were announcing your last song. It wasn't one he was familiar with, but he found himself tapping along to the beat as you sang

"Oh, lord, I need a little help."

You crooned into the microphone as you met his eyes.

"Oh, lord, come and save me from myself"

You sighed as you trailed your hand across you the tidbits of lace that peaked out from under your shirt and up your neck.

"And that devil's in the market for a pair of idle hands"

You finished with a wink and a crimson smirk across your face.

Rhett wiped his palms across his faded jeans as his very own hands, that had been setting idle just moments before, wrapped around the neck of his beer and brought it to his lips. He downed it in one gulp as you made your way off the stage and down to the crowd of on lookers, straight towards him.

Rhett fumbled with his wallet, trying to quickly pay his tab and leave, because in his head, he knew that you would be trouble.

He grabbed his hat from the bar and secured it on his head. He turned on his heels and collided with whoever had the misfortune to be behind him.

Rhett quickly caught himself and looked to apologize to whoever he crashed into, only to be met with you standing in front of him.

"Leaving so soon, Cowboy?" You spoke to him sweetly, voice flowing over him like honey.

"Y—yes ma'am." He stammered out.

You cocked your head to the side and clicked your tongue, not moving from your spot. You reached up and adjusted the hat that now sat askew on his head.

"Shame, I was hoping to have a drink with a thirsty cowboy, but if your whistle has already been wet, I guess I can find someone else." You sighed as you trailed your fingers down his bicep and looked up at him through your lashes.

"I—I suppose one drink couldn't hurt." Rhett stuttered. Your warm fingers on him was making it hard to think.

"Perfect." You smiled at him with a devilish grin.

Rhett swallowed thickly. He knew that this was either going to be the best or worst decision of his life. He just wasn't sure which one yet.

"So, Cowboy, you from around here or just passing through?" You ask him as the two of you settle into a booth tucked away from everyone else at your request.

"Born and raised here." Rhett answers you as he fiddles with the label on his beer before taking a sip of it. The hops of it dance across his tongue. Smoothe and familiar. It's a local brew, not something you can find at every bar and store. It surprises most people that Rhett drinks with when they see him order something niche.

"I've never seen this kind before. Is it any good?" You ask him as you gesture to his drink.

"S'one of my favorites," Rhett mumbles as you slide closer to him. Now your thigh is pressed against his. He can feel the warmth radiating off of your body.

"Wanna try it?" He offers as he tips the neck of the bottle towards you. "Sure." You grin at him.

Rhett expects you to take the bottle from his hand, but instead, you surge forward and connect your lips with his.

He lets out a surprise gasp, which allows you to slide your tongue into his mouth. Rhett relaxes into you. One of his large hands curling at the nape of your neck. But just ask quickly as you kissed him, you pulled away, leaving him breathless.

"You're right. It does taste pretty good." You breathe out as if nothing had happened. A laugh bubbles out of Rhett as he shakes his head and takes another drink.

"You're something else, darling." He chuckles. "Y'know, I just realized I never caught your name."

Now it's your turn to laugh. You smile at him sweetly before telling him your name. He repeats it back to you in his gravelly draw, and you think that it's never sounded better.

"You've got a mighty fine name, darling, but I think I'll call you Honeybee." He says.

"Oh, and why's that, Cowboy?" You challenge him.

"Because you're sweet with a little sting. And you can keep calling my Cowboy if you want, but Rhett works just fine, too." He smiles.

"Rhett." You draw out his name like the melody of one of the songs you just sang. Even though he's only heard you utter it once, Rhett can already tell he's addicted to the way his name falls from your lips.

"So where are you from? Because I know it's not from around here. I'd remember a pretty face like yours." Rhett asks you.

"You think I'm pretty?" You fire back. He cracks another smile and nods.

"I'm from Oklahoma. But I've been on the road for a while, following a dream." You tell him. "How the hell did you end up here?" He asks you. "My aunt and uncle have a ranch here. I'm spending the summer with them. Trying to reconnect with my roots." You explain.

Rhett shakes his head and realizes that your aunt and uncle's ranch is a few miles away from his family's. He hopes that means he'll get to see you more this summer.

"So what do you do for a living, Cowboy? Or do you just hang out in smokey bars all day?" You ask him. "I work on my family's ranch, and I ride bulls." He tells you with a shy grin.

"A bull rider. Guess that means you like to walk on the wild side?" You raise an eye brow as your hand comes to rest on his thigh. You trace lazy shapes over the faded denim.

"I've been known to take a few risks." Rhett says as he shifts closer to you.

"Is that so?" You ask him as you slide your hand along his thigh until it's resting atop of his obnoxiously large gold belt buckle that he won in his last rodeo.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replies calmly. You lean in closer to him. So close that he can smell the floral perfume you're wearing. Your lips are millimeters from his ear. "I may not be a thousand pound bull, but I sure could give you one hell of a ride tonight, if you're up for it, Cowboy." Your hot breath fans over him.

Rhett shutters at your words. And you smirk, proud of the effect you have on him. You go to pull your arm away, but he catches you by the wrist and places your hand over his bulging jeans. You cup his length through the fabric and press your thighs together.

"I think I might be the one giving you the ride of a lifetime." Rhett practically growls out.

"We'll see about that, Cowboy. I've been known to hold my own. I'm staying at the motel across the street for a few nights until my aunt fixes up the guest room at her house. I'm in room six. See you there." You wink at him before dropping a key onto the table and sliding out of the booth.

Rhett shamelessly watches you walk towards the exit. And when you turn back to blow him a kiss, he notices that the stetson hat that was once on his head now rests atop yours.

Taging some who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @laracrofted @bobfloydsbabe @lewmagoo @sunlightmurdock

#cherrycola27 #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett x reader #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbot smut #idle hands #outer range fic #outer range fanfic #Spotify

[floydsmuse]

All I want for Christmas is you

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x f! reader (no y/n)

Description: During one snowy December night, Rhett gets his hands on the record player and invites you to dance with him… (wc 1.2k)

Warnings: None! It’s just fluff ✨

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a/n: Happy holidays lovelies :). This is my little submission for @lewmagoo ‘s Christmas celebration ! This is one of my favorite Christmas songs of all time and it just reminded me of Rhett :,) so I knew I had to include it into this fic. I really hope you enjoy this! <3

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You and Rhett had finally finished up on your last minute Christmas shopping. Having purchased all of your gifts for each member of your families and booking it out of the store before the anticipated snow storm could occur and become too heavy to bear was certainly a win win.

As you were driving back home, little flurries began to liter out of the sky and started to stick to the windows of Rhett’s truck. You reached out your hand to lightly trace a path to follow each snowflake that would stick to the glass and admire it’s beauty, each one appearing a little bit different from the other.

Rhett’s eyes remained on the road, but he couldn’t help but shoot a glance at you through his peripheral and smile to himself. He just knew how much you loved this time of year and since he’d met you, he developed a new found appreciation for the holidays too. God was he lucky to have someone like you in his life, he thought quietly to himself. His big hand reaches over to engulf your thigh, giving it a loving squeeze and causing a warmth ness to shoot up through your entire body. You had a really good feeling about this upcoming Christmas, you were sure it was going to be one for the books.

~

You two arrive back at your shared home, as the snow continued to creep down from the sky. You both hop out of the truck, the frigid air hitting you like a ton of bricks and causing you to shiver involuntarily. With bags of gifts in hand, you quickly head inside and are immediately hit with this instant cozy feeling. Rhett moves to take his bags and grabs yours too, putting them in the little room next to the kitchen. You made your way over to the tree, turning on its lights and basking in all of its glory.

You could hear Rhett’s heavy footsteps approaching the den now, as you took to lighting a few of your holiday candles and switching on any additional holiday decor. This was your first official Christmas in your new home and things were really starting to come together.

You feel Rhett’s arms wrap around your waist and his head dips down, nuzzling his nose into the part of your neck where it meets your shoulder. The feeling of his scruff against your skin makes you fidget slightly and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the tickly feeling. Rhett was already well aware that you’d get like this when you felt the familiar scratchy little hairs on his chin and upper lip, but that didn’t make him move from his place. You opted to just lean your head further into him and just enjoy the intimate closeness. You two stayed like this in an embrace for a few minutes, just gazing up at the tree and taking in the festive ambiance. You felt Rhett suddenly pull away from you and his body heat that just radiates off of him vanished from your grasp.

“Where do you think you’re going mister?” You playfully question Rhett, as he starts moving over to the other side of the room to where his vintage record player lies. You look at him quizzically, as he picks up one of the vinyls on the nearby shelf and places the disk down onto the platter of the record player.

Your perk up on at the song that begins to play, it being All I want for Christmas is you by Vince Vance & the Valiants. You knew that Rhett loved this song and you would often hear him humming it to himself while working on little projects around the house or even when he’d be whipping up the two of you some breakfast in the morning. He starts making slow strides back to you and reaches out his hand for you to grab.

“Dance with me darlin,” he lets out. Wiggling his eyebrows, as a subtle smirk appears onto his face.

You look up at him in pure amusement and don’t waste another second, gladly accepting his hand in yours and being guided to connect against his chest.

Rhett begins to gently sway you back and forth. His body naturally moves to the rhythm of the song and his head begins to ever so lightly bop to its beat. You find your rhythm too and in time, you both were moving in sync. You two had started to make your way over to the other side of the den, being very cautious of bumping into any furniture in your wake. You press your head against Rhett’s chest and he holds you even closer to him, if that was even remotely possible.

As you are listening to the beat of Rhett’s heart and the sound of the song playing, you hear Rhett start to sing soundly to you in this husky drawl,

You are the angel atop my tree, you are my dream come true…

Your head shoots up. you are about to compliment his voice, but Rhett’s quick to dip you, causing you to let out a squeal at the sudden action. Once you return upright, he spins you around, causing you to be slightly dizzy and your hair falls messily in front of your face. You take a moment to compose yourself and look back up at him absolutely lovesick and in pure disbelief,

“Rhett where have you been hiding that voice of yours?! you really got it all going on huh?” You playfully quipped at him.

He looked down sheepishly at that, lowering his head and biting his bottom lip, trying not to smile too big at your words. You could see an evident blush creep onto his cheeks.

“I just love this song and I wanted to serenade my baby on this fine December eve.” Rhett shot back at you in a playful and flirty tone.

Now you were the one blushing. Rhett lifts his head up, looking at you with so much love and adoration. He breaks into song once again, reciting,

Santa can’t bring me what I need, cause all I want for Christmas is you.

Rhett now reverts his eyes down to your lips and then back up to meet your eyes. Your breath hitches in your throat and the next thing you knew, his lips were being melded onto yours. It wasn’t a heated kiss by any means, but it was passionate & it made you feel all bubbly inside.

You both pull away, needing to take a second to catch your breaths. The music is slowly starting to fade out, and the next song begins to play.

You find yourself pulling away from him slightly, but Rhett’s quick to pull you back into his chest. Wrapping his arms around you yet again,

“I’m not done serenadin’ ya darlin.’ You’re in for a real treat.” He snickers and you couldn’t stop the chuckle that was just destined to leave your lips. You leaned the side of your head against his shoulder, hugging back into him. you close your eyes to fully savor this moment in time, as Rhett continues to sway you back and forth into the magical wintery night.

-

-

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett x reader #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott outer range #rhett outer range #outer range #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #rhett abbott fanfic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse #a lew magoo christmas

[3tabbiesandalab]

God She’s Beautiful

Hi all! It’s been a red hot minute. I don’t think I’ve written anything since late last year! But this idea has been banging around in my head and I just had to get it down.

A Rhett x Reader idea loosely based on a snippet of a basketball press conference I saw a while back that I thought might suit him.

No warning, just a fluffy, soft cowboy and a happy ending.

My masterlist if you’re interested.

Enjoy!

“Do it Rhett. If you write your dreams down, they come true. I’m gonna be a journalist. C’mon, I promise I won’t read yours!”

12-year-old Rhett Abbott scrunched up his nose as he looked between the blank piece of paper in his hand and the girl in front of him. Writing down dreams and wishes seemed stupid. But YFN looked at him so earnestly, bright eyes shining, a wide smile on her face like she believed that anything was possible for him. So Rhett grabbed the pen from her and quickly scratched his down.

Winning the bull riding world final

He glanced back up at YFN and she grinned at his compliance. Even at his young age, Rhett understood he didn’t have a lot of hope for a full life. His family didn’t really show him love and it wasn’t a secret that everyone thought he wouldn’t amount to much but working on his family’s ranch in Wabang. But YFN was a radiant light and when she shone on him, he felt different, like he could be better and do anything.

Soon that light would be gone; her family planning on moving to the other side of the country. Even though he thought it was stupid, it couldn’t hurt to wish for her too. So Rhett smiled shyly back at YFN and hastily added another dream to his paper.

Kissing YFN when I win

….

Rhett scrubbed a large hand down his face and let out a nervous breath as he sat down at the desk. After years of struggle in the lower leagues and failed attempts at cracking into the Premier Series of bull riding, at 25, he’d finally made the PBR World Finals. Not only that; Rhett had won. Rode the fuck out of that nasty bull and won.

Nobody had believed he could do it; certainly not his family and not the people of Wabang. There was the exception of the occasional coach he could afford and the few buckle bunnies he had screwed in the past, but they were both after the money and name that came with the win, not just in it for Rhett.

There really was only one person who wholeheartedly had faith that he could do anything. Rhett had held on to the hope she gave him as a kid and now here he was living his fucking dream.

Unfortunately that dream included a huge press conference with a room full of other riders, sponsors, and journalists.

He wasn’t one for talking much, especially in front of a crowd.

Fuck. Rhett really hated press conferences.

He was seated in the middle of the panel of riders and the black microphone in front taunted him as the men around him laughed at something the speaker said. Rhett’s eyes darted anxiously around the large room, and he rubbed the thin layer of sweat on his hands along his thighs.

“You all good over there Rhett?”

Rhett’s head snapped towards the speaker when he realised he was being spoken to and a low chuckle hummed through the crowded room.

“Ah yeah sorry. Ain’t real good at this,” he replied nervously with a small quirk of his lips.

“Son, with a win like that tonight, you don’t need to be sorry,” the speaker taunted good naturedly. “Let’s take some questions for the new world champ.”

As the press conference continued, Rhett answered the questions as quickly and as best he could, itching to get away from the attention.

“Ok last one. Umm… the young lady there.” The speaker pointed towards the front of the crowd and Rhett’s gaze followed the direction.

His eyes landed on a petite, gorgeous woman and was met with a set of bright, warm eyes and a beaming smile that seemed so familiar. It felt like the breath had been knocked from his body.

“God she’s beautiful.”

Rhett’s voice echoed around the otherwise silent room.

Shit. He’d said that out aloud.

“Fuck,” Rhett whispered before clearing his throat. “Did you hear that?” he quietly asked the woman as prickling heat crawled up his neck and his ears burned.

A rosy blush spread up the woman’s cheeks as she shyly nodded, her eyes twinkling as she looked back at him, and a flustered Rhett dropped his head into his hands as the room laughed loudly.

A sweet melodic voice pulled him from his embarrassment. “Congratulations on your win Rhett. I know this has been your dream for a long time. You even wrote it down when you were 12.”

At those words, Rhett’s head whipped up, and his eyes found the woman’s playful orbs. The recognition began to dawn on him as he searched her face for the one he remembered from his childhood. The one that he’d missed when she’d disappeared from his life when her family moved away.

YFN.

He took in the beautiful and obviously intelligent and cheeky woman she had become. She was still a glowing light. A wry smile grew on Rhett’s face as he remembered what he wrote on that piece of paper long ago, “You promised you wouldn’t read it YFN.”

She laughed warmly at him, eyes reflecting joy and humour back at him, “I guess I lied.”

Rhett had all but forgotten that he was in a crowded room, and he slowly rose from his seat. An inexplicable pull had his feet moving around the desk until he was in front of YFN.

He studied her expression, searching for any sign that she didn’t feel the palpable energy he was feeling. She looked up at him reverently, her mischievous gaze from before had morphed into something deeper and more heated. Unaware from the attention the interaction was garnering, they both stood there taking each other in for a moment before Rhett stepped closer and splayed his hand gently on her hip, his palm tingling from the contact.

“Hi YFN. It’s been a long time,” Rhett murmured softly. “You became a journalist just like your wish.”

A small wistful smile played at YFN’s lips, “I did. Sports is not my usual area, but I couldn’t help wanting to cover a certain cowboy’s story. I’m so proud of you, Rhett. All your dreams came true. You won the world championships.”

“I did,” he mirrored her comment back at her.

Rhett was a man of few words, especially in front of an audience, but in that moment, he could not stop himself. “You read my wish YFN, do you remember what else it said?” he asked, hinting at what his mind and body desperately hoped to do next.

The air around them crackled with anticipation. YFN looked up longingly through her dark lashes, exhaling a small puff of air as she nodded in response to Rhett’s question.

He lifted his other hand, gently cupping her cheek and placed a soft kiss on her full lips with his own.

Rhett rested his forehead on YFN’s and breathed “Now all my dreams have come true.”

And the long forgotten crowded room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles.

Fuck. Rhett really did hate press conferences.

….

Four world championship wins later, Rhett sat at the desk for what would be his last press conference. At 29 years old it was time to hang up the spurs and retire. His wish of being a champion bull rider had turned out better than he could have hoped.

And it wasn’t the only dream of Rhett’s that came true either.

The seemingly stupid 12-year-old wish of kissing YFN had.

And so had some newer dreams too.

Like the wish he’d written on a bit of paper 6 months after reuniting with YFN.

Marry me beautiful

Or the dream of having a family of his own. More light for him to bask in, more love to have in his life.

And because of that, thankfully he wouldn’t have to endure this particular press conference on his own. Rhett’s adorable 3-year-old son had insisted on accompanying him, so his little mini me sat in his lap; wide, anxious eyes scanning the loud crowd while Rhett’s large arms folded around him protectively.

The speaker cleared his throat and the noise of the room dulled as he asked, “So Rhett, another championship win for you, congratulations son. Would you like to fill us in why you’re retiring from bull riding then?”

Rhett gave the speaker a small nod and turned his attention to the crowd of people in front of him. His gaze swept across the faces until he found the one he was looking for, and a smile crept onto his lips when he saw YFN. She lit up the room as she always did, grinning widely at him, unshed tears in her bright eyes as she cradled her pregnant belly.

His wife, and his little man and soon-to-arrive twin girls were the reason for his retirement. They’d given him everything he could of hope for and more in this life, and now it was his turn to support them and help them realise their dreams.

Rhett opened his mouth to answer but before he could, a sweet little voice rang out through the room.

“Look Daddy! It’s Mummy! She’s boo-tee-ful.”

The audience laughed and cooed at his son’s statement, unintentionally amplified by the microphone in front of him. One that happened to perfectly echo Rhett’s from four years ago.

Rhett chuckled and kissed his son on the top of his head and smiled lovingly at YFN.

He supposed press conferences weren’t so bad after all.

….

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x reader #x reader #outer range #outer range fanfic #lewis pullman #im finally back from the dead

[hederasgarden]

Stand By Me - Part 2

Summary: When a local ranch hand’s attention evolves into something more sinister, Rhett Abbott becomes an unlikely source of comfort and protection for you. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 4.3K (SORRY DEAR READERS) Rating: Mature, future chapters will be explicit and 18+ only. Stalking, anxiety, misogyny, inaction by the police and Rhett being protective. Future chapters will include some violence. No spoilers for Outer Range. A/N: This will be a four part series. I cannot thank @mayhem24-7forever, @callsign-phoenix, @whatblogisthis216 and @wildbornsiren enough for their help and support putting this together. Thank you @callsignhurricane for the absolutely gorgeous header.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist

In the morning, you find Rhett fast asleep on your couch. Sometime during the night, he removed his boots and placed them side by side under your coffee table. He looks a little uncomfortable crammed on your couch, one sock-covered foot resting on the floor. You take a moment to study him, his face relaxed in slumber. He’s always been handsome, but he's even more so now with his golden lashes resting against his cheek and his long hair mussed. One hand rests on his stomach and you see his long, lean fingers twitch while he sleeps. His other hand is behind his head.

When you take a step forward, the floor creaks and his blue eyes snap open. He shoots up, tension lining his whole body, but it dissipates the moment he sees you. He twists his neck to the side with an audible crack and you feel a rush of guilt thinking of him sleeping out here. You’re about to apologize when he speaks.

"Sleep okay?" He asks. The grizzled tone of his voice makes your stomach swoop and it takes you a minute to respond.

��I did, thank you. Do you, um, want some coffee or something? I was going to make some for myself…"

“That’d be good,” he says with a soft smile. He rakes a hand through his hair to clear it from his face. On the table, his phone buzzes and he bends down to get it, the corner of his lip pulling up briefly. “It’s Ma,” he explains. “Checking in.”

He texts something back before dropping the phone on the couch to follow you into the kitchen. It’s strange to have a man in your space and with the way he follows so closely behind, you’re self-conscious of every little thing. It was silly and maybe a little vain, but you did your hair and make up before coming out this morning, even though you’re still in your pjs.

“I don’t have anything fancy. It’s just Folgers,” you tell Rhett, pulling down the big red tub and scooping out the powder into the coffee filter.

“I’m not a fancy guy,” he says, smiling at you. He leans against the counter and folds his arms across his chest, continuing to watch you.

As the coffee pot gurgles to life, you pull down two coffee mugs, taking the chipped one for yourself. He turns down your offer of milk and sugar, drinking it black while you doctor yours up.

“I can make some breakfast,” you offer. “Least I can do since you had to stay the night.”

He shakes his head. “The sheriff’s station opens at 8 am. We need to talk to Burt about this. See what can be done.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, feeling silly. This wasn’t a social visit, Rhett was only here because you were in danger, because you’d caught the wrong kind of attention. “You probably have 100 better things to do this morning. I’ll um, go get dressed. Sorry.”

Rhett catches your arm as you walk past. You feel that same jolt of electricity move under your skin, just like last night when he touched you.

“Hey,” he says softly, waiting until you look up at him before continuing. “No need to apologize. I wanted to be here last night and I want to come with you to the station, if you’ll let me.”

It’s a lot, being under his intense stare and you fidget nervously. “I- I want you to come.”

He smiles and pulls away. “Good.”

You leave him to get dressed, surprised to find him lingering in the hallway outside of your bedroom when you emerge. He looks a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Couldn’t find the bathroom,” he explains.

“Oh, these old houses have weird layouts. It’s just, em, through my bedroom,” you tell him, pointing behind you.

You let him pass and move into your room. You see his head turn as he takes in your small, cluttered space and you feel incredibly self-conscious. The bed is only half made and yesterday’s uniform is still in a heap on the floor. Heat burns in your cheeks when you spot the bra hanging off the bathroom door handle. You don’t realize you’re just standing there after he disappears until you hear the toilet flush.

Hurriedly, you turn around and head to the living room only to pace anxiously while you wait for him. You spot Rhett’s hat on the coffee table, the light brown suede material looking soft to the touch. For a split second you think about picking it up but then you hear the old warped flooring of the hallway groan and withdraw your hand guiltily.

“Ready?” He asks, slipping on his hat.

“Yes,” you tell him, grabbing your purse before you suddenly remember. “Wait, I need to get something.”

You dart past him, back down the hallway to the old linen closet and stand up on your tiptoes to feel along the top shelf. You shoved an old shoe box into the very back when you put it there two weeks ago. As if hiding it would make all of this disappear. A small frustrated sound escapes your pressed lips when you come up empty handed. You’re considering dragging out the old step stool when you step back into a solid chest.

“Easy, it’s just me,” Rhett rumbles in response to the startled yelp you let out. His hands settle on your shoulders and you drop your head forward, embarrassed all over again. Of course it was him. “What are you looking for?”

“A shoe box. It should be on the top shelf."

He hums and reaches past your head, snagging the item in question. You hesitate when he offers it to you and there’s a slight tremor in your fingers. Rhett tilts his head in response, brows drawn together in concern. You force yourself to take it from him carefully, an anxious shiver running down your spine.

“What’s in there?”

For a second you don't want to tell him, ashamed. “Things he left me,” you finally say, not needing to expand on who he is.

“Can I see it?” Rhett questions. “I’d like to see it if that’s okay.”

You nod, looking up at him when he takes it from you and lifts the lid. A muscle in his jaw twitches and his nostrils flare as he carefully picks through the items. When he pulls out one of the man's drawings, you look away. They might have once been beautiful, flattering even, but your eyes were scratched out in all of them. The sharp lines of the man’s fury with you were unmistakable.

“This everything he gave you?”

“No," you admit. "I threw most of it out but then I thought maybe I should keep them. In case it got bad enough to show them to the sheriff.”

A tick in Rhett’s jaw jumps and you feel foolish. Of course he thought you should have gone to the Sheriff before now. Maybe if you had, he wouldn't be here wasting his time with you.

“You’re very brave for keeping this,” Rhett says, touching your shoulder. “It couldn’t have been easy, having this close by.”

You look up, surprised. “I should have told someone before this,” you whisper.

“You did. That’s why I’m here.” Your lower lip trembles in response and you reach for the box but he doesn't let you take it. “I got it. Come on.”

Just like last night, Rhett follows closely behind as you make your way to his truck, although now there is no hand on the small of your back to guide you along. You miss it. He opens the passenger side of the truck for you, making sure you’re buckled in before walking around to get in himself. The ride to the station is quiet though not uncomfortable. With Rhett you don’t feel the need to fill the silence like you do with others. You can just be.

Even though you try to distract yourself with the radio, you find your eyes drawn to the box sitting between the two of you. You stare at it, wondering how the Sheriff will respond. Would he believe you now? He’d have to with Rhett by your side and those awful “gifts” as proof – at least you hoped he would.

“Ready?” He asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

When you look up you’re surprised to see you’re parked in front of the police station. You can feel Rhett’s eyes on you, waiting for a response but you can’t make yourself move or even breathe. You don’t want to do this, fear and anxiety curdling the coffee in your stomach.

“It’ll be okay.” he tells you. His touch on your shoulder has you looking into his beautiful blue eyes. “We’re gonna make him listen,” he promises.

“We will,” you agree, even though you don’t quite believe it.

Rhett takes the box, tucking it under his arm and waits for you before heading into the station. He tips his hat at the receptionist, offering her a smile that she returns. You can see she likes him. She sits up straighter and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, paying you no mind. You recognize her from high school, Monica Barlow, one of the varsity cheerleaders and runner up for prom queen. She still looks just as thin and beautiful as you remember. You tug at your work uniform self consciously.

“Morning. We need to see Burt,” Rhett says confidently.

“Hi Rhett,” she chirps, twisting a strand of shiny blonde hair around her finger while she stares up at him. “I’m not sure if he’ll have time to see you but you can wait with me if you want. It’s so boring here, I could use the company.” She giggles and Rhett smiles.

“Come on Monica,” he says, leaning closer to her, his voice dropping lower. “You mean to tell me you don’t run this place yet? Got all those guys at your beck and call?”

She laughs and it’s a light, pretty sound. “Oh, you’re awful,” she tells him, reaching out to slap his arm. “He’s got a pretty booked schedule…” she trails off, glancing behind to Burt’s office. Even though the blinds are partially drawn, you can clearly see him sitting at his desk.

Rhett pushes up his hat with a finger, tilting his head to the side but says nothing. To your surprise, Monica blushes. “Let me get him his morning coffee first,” she says.

When she heads down the hall Rhett stands up straight, his expression falling back into that serious look he’d been wearing most of the car ride. You shift from foot to foot anxiously, only settling when he touches your arm. Even though he doesn’t say anything, it helps and the two of you wait in silence for Monica to return.

“He’ll see you now,” she tells him, glancing at you for the first time. You can tell by her blank, pleasant smile that she doesn’t recognize you.

“Thanks, Monica,” he says, winking at her. She preens and bats her lashes.

Rhett uses the hand still on your arm to urge you to walk with him. On the way to Burt’s office you pass Deputy Joy who seems surprised to see you there, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the man beside you. She looks like she wants to say something but before she can, he’s herding you into the office and shutting the door behind him.

“Well… if this ain't something. Rhett Abbott in my station without handcuffs on.” Sheriff Burt exclaims, leaning back in his chair. The wood of his chair creaks dangerously as he settles his hands on his prominent gut. “What can I do you for?”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance, focused entirely on Rhett. It makes you feel small, inconsequential. Silly. Like the first time you stammered your way through your concerns and he just stared at you with that patronizing look. The one people give small children and dogs. You clench your jaw and stare down at your shoes as Rhett explains why you’ve come. He shows the Sheriff the shoe box and recounts the man’s behavior last night.

“Well, like I told the girl last time, it sounds like she’s got herself an admirer.”

“An admirer?” Rhett asks sharply, taking a step forward. The hand at his side curls into a tight fist. “That’s horseshit.”

“Now Rhett,” the Sheriff starts, hooking his thumbs into his belt, his tone painfully familiar to you. “This sounds like a personal matter best solved between the two of them. Or maybe you. Have a chat with him, man to man. Might be that he doesn’t know she’s got herself a man and he just thinks she’s shy. You know, in need of wooing.” He looks at you then, thin lips drawing up into a smile. “You seem awfully timid, honey.”

“I-I told him I had a boyfriend,” you say. “I said-'' you start but the Sheriff cuts you off with a wave of his hand. His quick dismal makes you feel so little and insignificant.

“You don't think stalking is a police matter?” Rhett asks, the anger in his voice clear. “Threatening a woman isn't serious enough to necessitate getting off your ass?”

“Now listen here, boy,” the Sheriff warns. You flinch when he stands abruptly and his chair scrapes against the linoleum flooring.

“You’re the one who’s not listening,” Rhett interrupts. “How the fuck you got elected is beyond me.”

“Careful, boy. I’d hate to have to call your momma to bail you out again.”

Rhett takes a step forward and you see the Sheriff’s hand move to rest on the butt of his gun. The tension in the room is suffocating and your heart hammers in your chest. You may not know Rhett well, but from the look on his face you think he might lunge across the desk to reach the Sheriff if this continues much longer. The thought of him getting in trouble or hurt on your behalf is too much and you latch onto his arm.

“Rhett,” you plead. “It’s okay. Let’s just go.” He looks at you, working his jaw but the sharpness in his eyes fades a fraction. ”Please.”

“Best listen to your woman, boy,” the Sheriff says, his smug tone enough to make Rhett’s head snap back up.

You say his name again, touching his shoulder.

He breathes out harshly in response and purses his lips. “This ain't finished,” he warns the Sheriff with a pointed finger.

The Sheriff scoffs, unfazed by Rhett’s threat and you feel his muscles tense under your palm. He looks like he’s gonna say something else but then shakes his head and turns to leave, grabbing your hand in his. He pulls you through the station at a fast enough clip that you struggle to keep up. When Monica sees you coming she stands, smiling, but Rhett doesn’t even spare her a glance. He doesn’t stop until you’re outside.

“Fucking useless piece of shit,” Rhett growls, kicking the tire of his truck.

He takes his hat off and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. There’s a deep red flush up the back of his neck and color in his cheeks. When he turns away from you, you don’t miss the tension in his shoulder and the way he breathes heavily, working to get his anger under control. Were it another man, his behavior might have been frightening but you feel a different emotion, one that makes your chest warm and your skin tingle. You’ve never had someone fight like that for you before.

When Rhett turns around a few moments later he looks almost ashamed. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing his jaw, “Shouldn’t of cursed in front of you like that or reacted like I did. Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, taking a tentative step closer. You want to touch him but aren’t sure if you should or if he’d even want you too. “You didn’t scare me. I… I trust you, Rhett.”

Something in his face changes, an emotion passing through his blue eyes you’re not familiar with. You watch his lashes flutter and his jaw go slack before his gaze cuts away from you. It’s clear you’ve said something wrong and that thought has you twisting your hands together.

“What time’s your shift start?” Rhett asks abruptly.

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden change in topic. “Uh, 10 am,” you respond.

He nods. "We got time then, come on. You should eat somethin’. I think Odessa's is open this early."

“Okay.” You agree, surprised when you feel his hand settle on your back.

You walk alongside him and let him lead you north on the main street, even though you’re well aware of where the diner is. It’s been a staple in Wabang since before you were both born. Rhett looks deep in thought so you don’t talk, but you do steal glances at him now and again until he distracts you enough that you miss a divet in the sidewalk. It sends you stumbling, but he catches you easily, an arm around your lower back and a hand on your elbow. Underneath your embarrassment is a strong current of warmth in your gut that has you inhaling sharply.

“Alright?” He asks.

You nod and he lets you go. You continue walking but this time you pay attention until you arrive at the busy diner. You seat yourselves and take one of the peeling menus from the holder on the table. You’ve eaten here enough times to know what you’re getting, but you need something to do with your hands. That only lasts so long before the waitress takes your orders and you’re left with nothing to do but look at Rhett.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out suddenly. Rhett’s eyebrows rise in response and you hurry to keep talking. “It’s just, I mean… I’m sorry you had to waste your time on this.”

“Only one who wasted my time this mornin’ was the Sheriff,” he tells you, lip curling in distaste for the aforementioned man. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”

You know on some level he’s right, that the Sheriff should have listened to you, especially once he’d seen the box. The box…Shit. You left it behind at the station. It was probably at the bottom of a trash can now, long forgotten, along with you and Rhett. You really should return for it, the box was your only physical proof of what was happening, but you’re not sure you have the stomach for it, even with Rhett at your side.

“I suppose the Sheriff did have one good idea,” Rhett says.

He chuckles at your surprised expression

“What’s that?” You question.

“That he might back off if he thought you had a man,” Rhett explains, the look on his face letting you know exactly how he felt about that antiquated statement. “He’s already seen you with me at the store. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince him that I’d make trouble for him if he didn’t knock it off.”

“You mean….pretend we were together?” You ask hesitantly, afraid of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting. It’s a little pathetic how your heart lurches in your chest at the chance to spend more time with him. To have him close.

“Yeah. Don’t think it would take much. You could come watch me ride tomorrow night. I’m sure Ma would love the company. Then maybe… drinks at the Handsome Gambler a few times?” He questions, eyes narrowed in thought. “I know I’ve seen that guy in there before with the other men from the Dustin ranch.”

You don’t respond immediately, overwhelmed by his offer. You weren’t used to having people go to bat for you, at least not since your grandfather passed shortly after you graduated high school. It’s a sobering realization to know Rhett’s probably the first man you’ve felt safe with since he died. That thought dislodges something in your chest that sends a spike of unwanted emotion climbing up your throat and pressing on your eyes.

Rhett seems to take your silence as something else and leans back looking a little uncertain for the first time since he came to your rescue last night. “If you’re not comfortable-”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “It’s just…” you trail off, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying.

“Hey,” Rhett says quietly, hands settling over your own. God, the soft tone of his voice goes straight to that bundle of fear living under your breastbone, easing it just a little more every time you hear it.

You shake your head, hating how emotional you’re getting again. This was stupid, he was just offering you help. That should be normal, expected. It’s what people did. You weren’t usually someone who fell apart so easily but that seemed to be the only side of yourself you were showing Rhett.

“We can figure something else out,” he says. “Perry and I can pay a visit to the Dustin ranch. Make him understand… it was just a thought.”

“It’s not that, it’s a good idea,” you promise him, trying to find the words you want to use. It takes several moments before you speak, Rhett watching you patiently. “It’s just people always say they want to help but they don’t mean it. They have their own problems and families to care for,” you explain. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I appreciate what you’re doing for me. Not everyone would.”

“Families aren’t all they're cracked up to be,” Rhett promises you cryptically. “And you’re making this sound like a chore when it’s really not. I’ll have a pretty girl cheering me on in the stands and someone to share a beer with on Friday nights instead of sitting alone at the bar like a sad sack.”

Pretty. He called you pretty. A part of you wants to believe him but you know he’s only trying to make you feel better. You saw the kind of woman he went home with, the whole town did and they didn’t look like you.

“Alright,” you agree with a shy smile.

You take comfort from the feel of his fingertips on the back of your hand and the two of you stay like that until the food arrives. The waitress eyes you curiously. You expect Rhett Abbott taking a girl out to breakfast wasn’t a sight she’s ever seen. It might be your imagination but she seems to linger a few minutes longer than necessary after dropping off your plates before heading back behind the counter. You catch her whispering to another waitress, both of them watching you. Rhett notices and smirks, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“That didn’t take long. See, this is gonna be easy,” he promises you with a grin. “Though, I’ll apologize in advance for dragging down your reputation.”

“Don't think I really have one,” you tell him. The only reason people seemed to remember your name half the time was because you wore a name badge.

“Nah, you were always a good girl in school,” he tells you with a grin. “I don’t think that’s changed.”

Your cheeks heat at his flirty tone. You don’t respond, taking a bite of your pancakes instead. While you continue to eat, Rhett lays out his plan. It’ll start that night when he picks you up after your shift to go to the bar for a few drinks and be seen. Tomorrow, you’ll join his parents at the rodeo to watch him ride. If the man shows up anytime in the future, Rhett wants you to call him immediately.

When the check comes, he pays before you can offer. You thank him but he brushes you off, his hand returning to your back once you’re outside on the street. It’s a quick walk to the hardware store. You can see your boss and another employee inside already, preparing to open. Rhett’s hand on your back drags up to rest on your shoulder and he turns you to face him.

“They’re watching us,” he says. You try to look behind you but he stops you with two fingertips along your jaw and a shake of his head. “Should probably do a little more than wave goodbye,” he suggests.

“Oh, good point,” you agree, anxious anticipation for what he might suggest making your voice shake. “Whatever you think, Rhett. I trust you.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he whispers, looking concerned.

“I don’t mind you touching me. It… it makes me feel safe,” you admit in a rush, skin hot.

That same look from outside the station earlier passes over his face and he inhales quietly. You worry you've said the wrong thing again.

“Alright, c’mere,” he directs, a hand on your hip pulling you in for a tight hug.

His hat bumps into your head when he tucks his face into the side of your neck. The feel of his warm breath against your skin sends a rush of butterflies to your stomach. You make a soft sound when he drags the flat of his palm up and down your back comfortingly. He pulls back a fraction but is still close enough that you’re partially shielded by the brim of his hat. He smiles and you’re quick to return it, chest warming at how handsome he looks.

“I’ll pick you up at 5,” he promises, leaning in to brush his lips over your cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you agree.

Rhett doesn’t move again until you’re safe inside the store, offering you a sweet little wave that you return before watching him climb into his truck. Today didn’t go as well as you hoped, the Sheriff still doesn’t believe you even with Rhett, but you don’t feel as anxious or scared as you expect.

For the first time since this all started, you’re no longer alone. You have Rhett and a plan.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #outer range fan fic #outer range fanfic

[southpawbitch]

Homebody | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Masterlist (this is part SIX; read the others here)

word count: 1.9k

summary: eight months later; rhett is back and some things have changed

warnings: drinking, trevor tillerson being...not great

A/N: ok ok so I've been sitting on this for an embarrassingly long amount of time because I feel like everyone (including me) isn't excited about it anymore, but I've actually really enjoyed writing this and can't believe it's almost over!! hope u enjoy!!! x MJ

You reach your hand up and pinch the skin of your forearm so tightly you leave a crescent shaped mark behind when you finally drop your hand. You’re awake. This is real life, and Rhett Abbott is standing just across the road from you, loading bags of topsoil into the back of his truck as if it’s just another Tuesday evening on main street in Wabang. It would be if not for the fact that he’s been living somewhere around Denver for the past eight months–doing god knows what with god knows who. Well, you know who, but you’d rather not think about her right now.

His return is not something you expected–not when you know about Cecilia turning his room into her study and Royal hiring someone to replace him only a month after his absence. He didn’t even make it back for Christmas. It all seemed so permanent–like he was going to be gone forever.

You remember the day he left like it was yesterday. You had been busy wedding planning with your mom–picking out table linens and centerpieces at a cute event rental place a few towns over. Your head was spinning with all the decisions that you’d be making practically on your own. Ben wasn’t too involved in the process, and your mom just wanted you to be happy, but you weren’t happy, which is why you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders when your phone vibrated in your bag and Rhett’s name flashed across the screen. It had only been a week since he showed up to your house, ending everything, and you perked up at the thought of him changing his mind. 

Except it wasn’t Rhett on the other line when you answered.

“Hey.” You greet sweetly, excusing yourself from the conversation with the sales associate and your mom to take the phone call outside. There’s silence on the other end as the cool breeze outside causes the hair on your arms to raise. “Rhett?” 

“Do you know where Rhett is?” The voice on the other end belongs to his brother, Perry. You swallow nervously, looking around you to see if anyone might be close by as you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes when you remember the conversation you had with him only a few days ago. It was less of a conversation and more of him telling you that he was leaving because he couldn’t see you anymore–like you were the reason he wanted to skip town. 

You were heartbroken, but you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You thought once he cooled off, he’d be back to his normal self again. Apparently not. 

“You’re the last person he called, and he left his phone on his bed…we’re just worried.” You can hear it in his voice. Although they don’t get along too well, Rhett’s still his brother, and he’s been through more in the past few years than you could possibly imagine. You pull yourself together for his sake. He probably doesn’t know why the two of you were speaking, nor does he care. He just wants answers, and unfortunately, you think you have one for him. It’s like the missing pieces to this shitty puzzle are just now presenting themselves to you. Maria was accepted into a law school in Denver. She left just days after Rhett visited you. You didn’t even put two and two together–not even when Rhett all but confirmed that they were together officially. 

“I’m sure he’s just with Maria. You should call her.” You say flatly, keeping calm despite the anger and sadness that you feel on the inside. Perry doesn’t say much else. He hangs up and you walk back inside to continue planning for your wedding. The weight of the ring on your finger feels heavier now than it ever has, knowing that whatever you and Rhett had between you is officially over and you’re Ben’s for good. Forever. 

When he’s finished loading everything, he hops up to sit on the tailgate of the truck and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with ease. The sun is setting, and most of the shops in town are closed at this point. Only a few cars remain on the street. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing on the other side of the road, staring at him. He looks out towards the mountain range, just beyond the edge of town, bending his leg up and wrapping his arm around it, resting his chin on his knee as he blows a puff of smoke out of his mouth. Like he never left.

Rhett sits at your favorite coffee shop–the one on the corner of Heath Street that has a nice view of the mountain range in the distance–waiting for you to walk through the creaky, wooden door and order your usual. He’s been back for almost a week, but he’s yet to see you anywhere around town, and he’s smarter than to start asking–he knows that wouldn’t be a good look for either of you, and he doesn’t want you to know how desperate he is to find out how you’re doing. He was hoping that running into you accidentally would ease his mind a little. Even just seeing you from across the room would be enough to ease his mind.

He could just ask Perry, but that would turn into a whole thing. He knows Perry called you after he ran off. It was hard enough trying to convince him that nothing was going on between him and an engaged woman, but it seems all is forgotten now that he’s back for good, and he doesn’t want to open that whole conversation up again. 

Because he is home for good. 

Denver wasn’t for him, and bull riding just didn’t feel the same without any kind of support system. Things with Maria were a whole different beast. He knew they wouldn’t last. He spent most of his time there thinking about you and pretending he could be just as happy with someone else, but it’s a lot easier said than done. He missed how easy it was to talk to you and how you didn’t try to turn him into someone that he’s not. He never would’ve thought you’d have this hold on him. He thought leaving was the right thing to do–leaving so that you could be happy without him getting in the middle of the plans you made for your future. He wants to make sure he made the right decision, so he waits for you.

But you never show. Not in the four hours that he’s been sitting here have you even walked past the building. He’s about to throw his coffee out and leave once the clock strikes noon, and it’s clear that you won’t be stopping by, but then he hears the familiar shriek of one of your friends–Katie Palmer. He stays seated, keeping his back pressed hard against the booth as he turns his head ever so slightly as if it will make his hearing better. She’s just in the booth behind him, talking to someone on the phone. 

“Jade and I are leaving around ten, but she did say she might meet us at The Pit Bar later.” She lets out a small chuckle in response to the person on the other end. “No, no…don’t worry about it. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the company.” Is she talking about you, or maybe to you? He can’t imagine who else it could be unless you’ve stopped talking to your friends in the eight months he’s been away. The conversation ends there, though, giving him nothing more than a vague timeframe and the name of a bar in town. It’s not his favorite. The Tillersons have sort of claimed it as their own territory, and it’s not often Rhett leaves there without a bit of blood on his knuckles, but if there’s a chance you could be there, he’ll take it. 

He places his Stetson on top of his head and gets up, taking one last look around the coffee shop as he heads towards the exit with his unfinished room temperature latte. 

It’s almost midnight when you step outside The Pit Bar to take a breather and have a cigarette before rejoining your rowdy friends for the night. It’s the first time in a long time you’ve agreed to a night out. You haven’t been anywhere except work and the general store for most of the year, but you miss your life. You miss getting coffee at Hitch’s every morning and having lunch at the diner with your friends once a week. You miss going out and drinking and having fun. One day, you suppose, it’ll be fun again. 

The door to the bar swings open and out walks Trevor Tillerson. He looks in your direction and smiles, making his way over. You take a deep breath, dropping your hand and ashing the cigarette into the gravel below your feet as he greets you, tilting his hat slightly like he’s some sort of gentleman. You give a small smile in return, taking a drag and breathing it in as you look out into the parking lot–doing your best to ignore the six-foot man standing right next to you. 

“Oh, come on.” He chuckles, and though he’s smiling, his tone is a little sinister. “Can I bum one, baby?” 

You’re not sure where he gets off on calling you baby, but you do your best to ignore the atrocious pet name and his audacity. “This was my last one, sorry.” 

He steps closer and places his hand on the building behind your head, partially blocking you in. He mumbles out something, but you can’t tell exactly what it is. He’s very drunk and very much trying to flirt with you–something you’ve been trying to get used to ever since you called off your engagement with Ben. Guys who never even looked in your direction before were suddenly all over you all the time, which is why you had to stop going out. You couldn’t handle the attention, or the fact that the one person you wanted was hundreds of miles away. 

“I can take you home if you need a ride.�� He says somewhat politely, reaching up and pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, causing the hair on your arms to raise in a spine-chilling way. His hand lingers for a moment and you feel yourself stiffen. You’re more than uncomfortable, and you have no idea how to get out of it. Trevor’s just trying to get into your pants–you know that–but you also know that he has a bad temper when he’s mad, and though you’ve never known him to hit a woman, you don’t want to be the first. 

“I don’t need a ride.” You confirm sweetly, watching his eyes turn dark with rage as his mouth turns down into a frown. His hand curls into a fist and pounds into the wall behind you, causing you to jump slightly. 

“I don’t know why you’re playing so hard to get.” He spits out, leaning down so that his face is mere inches from your own. You take a deep breath, feeling yourself sink deeper into the wood of the building behind you and screw your eyes shut, preparing to wind back your dominant arm to attack his face when suddenly, the heat from his body is gone and a strangled grunt comes from his throat. 

Your eyes open the second that Rhett’s fist connects with Trevor’s jaw. 

#rhett abbott #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbot x reader #outer range #outer range fanfic #lewis pullman #rhett abbott fanfiction #Rhett abbott fanfic

[wildbornsiren]

Homecoming | Rhett Abbott/F!Reader

Homecoming. 

Summary: Rhett comes home after a trail ride. The two of you talk about playing house. 

1,496 words. Female/AFAB reader. 

Warnings: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI breeding kink, cream pie, dirty talk.

Notes: Someone had asked me for breeding kink/wifey with Rhett. This is my best attempt. I tried. Really I did. Comments and shares are absolute gold and feed my muses. Likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s so appreciated and means the most.

The back door opens, and you turn to see Rhett entering the kitchen. His clothes are dusty, boots filthy, caked with dry mud. He’s got a few new healing scrapes on his knuckles, and a weariness emanating from him that you can feel in your bones. His skin is deeper than when he left, a sunburn gracing the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, his eyes bright and focused on you. He swallows, and you can see the bob of his throat as his gaze moves up and down. “You look good.” His voice is hoarse, and it sends goosebumps cascading over your skin.

“Welcome home,” You smile. 

He had sent you a text a few hours beforehand letting you know when he’d be home, and so you took advantage of it. Cleaned the house, baked a cake, and put dinner in the oven. You knew he hadn’t missed that you’re wearing a dress, one of his favorites, and an apron, barefoot as you move across the kitchen to set the table.

He lets the door close behind him, the lock clicking audibly into place. It takes him two steps to get to you, his hands landing on your hips, pulling you to him roughly. “You know what that dress does to me, girl.” His mouth against your neck, rough stubble scraping against your skin until his mouth is on yours, and he’s kissing you.

“Do I?” You feign innocence kissing his cheek. “Go get cleaned up, dinner will be ready soon.”

Rhett doesn’t let go, instead his hands sliding down to grip your rear, pulling you flush to him. “I’m gone for four days helping Perry move the stock, and you’re playing housewife?” There’s no bite to his words, but a warmth that you recognize instantly. “You want to be a rancher’s wife that bad darlin’, who am I to deny you that?”

“You going to make an honest woman out of me Mr. Abbott?”

You can feel him fiddling with the apron strings as he palms your ass with those rough hands. “If you’ll have me ma’am.” You tip your head, giving him more access to your neck. “I like the thought of having you in my house. Sweet and barefoot,” He nibbles at the curve of your neck. “Couple little ones runnin’ around.” His voice is so soft, you barely hear the last bit.

“Little ones?” You arch your eyebrow. His expression is guarded, and he’s not meeting your eyes. “You want kids Rhett?” You reach up, sliding your hands into his hair, tugging his head to meet your gaze.

“Been thinking about it.”

“With me?”

He nods, lower lip worried between his teeth. “Can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my life with. Build something with.” He clears his throat, “Next ride I’ll have enough to get you a ring. Make it official.”

“That’s a couple months from now.”

“I wanna do this right,” he says, kissing your mouth softly.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t start getting ready. Little ones take time to make you know.” He blinks at you, confusion on his face. “We can start practicing cowboy.”

Confusion faded quickly as he grinned, eyes bright and mischievous. “Are you saying what I think you’re sayin’?”

“Take me to bed, cowboy.”

“Oh no,” his voice rumbles in his chest, scruff brushing against your skin as he nuzzles your neck. “I’m going to have you right here, on the table. Since you went to the effort to make dinner and all.” His hands are back on your ass, groping, lifting the hem of your dress. “You aren’t wearing panties, are you?”

Whatever smart response you were going to give him died on your lips when he backed you against the table, lifting you onto it. He wedged himself between your knees, one hand cupping your cheek as he kisses you, slow and deep.

Rhett wasn’t ever big on words, but the way his fingers brushed so softly against your cheek, the quiet moan of pleasure that came from him when your lips parted under his, the press of his entire body against yours, said everything he couldn’t. He kissed you as if he were drowning and you were a lifeline to shore. Rhett carried so much, so very much, and when your hand slide over his shoulders, down his back taking more of his weight, the sound that tears from the back of his throat goes straight through you. He's all hard angles and planes, your fingers twisting in the hair that curls just slightly at his collar, his hips thrusting against you. The scrape of denim and the press of the cool metal of his belt buckle are electric, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Need you darlin’.” He rasps against your lips. Beautiful blue eyes are swallowed by desire, the scrape of the scruff on his jaw against the curve of your neck makes you moan. “Please, sweet girl. Need to be in you, want to lose myself in you.”

“Come on, Rhett.” His hands flex against your hips. “I know you’ve been thinking about me sweetheart. Missing your wifey. Thinking about fucking me and filling me instead of wasting your cum in your fist. Make me yours, need to feel you in me.”

“I know you don’t kiss your momma with that mouth.” Rhett’s chuckling, even as he’s undoing his belt buckle and fussing with his jeans.

“No, but I suck your cock.”

“Woman, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to say shit like that let alone remember your name.” He growls, shoving your dress up over your hips, and his pants down enough to free his cock. His eyes close, smirk fading into absolute bliss as he settles between your thighs. The stretch of his cock leaves you gripping the back of his neck, nails biting into tanned skin.

“Now I’m home.” Rhett whispers against your mouth, kissing you again.  He rests his forehead against yours, buried to the hilt inside you. “You feel so good darlin’.” His hands are shaking as they skim up your sides, pulling you up and against him before they settle on your hips. He sets a slow pace, gentle, letting you feel every inch of him sliding into you. The drawl is more intense, his voice so deep that it rattles your bones, mouth soft as he peppers your face with kisses.

Your hands are splayed against his back, feeling his muscles flex and roll as he fucks into you. His hair has fallen into his face, his expression so soft it makes your heart skip a beat. “I missed you, Rhett.” The snap of his hips against yours makes the table shake under your combined weight. Your grasp one of his hands, his fingers interlacing with yours.

“I’ve got you sweet girl.” He says against your neck, his voice cracks, pace faltering slightly. He whimpers against your skin, driving harder into you, the slick sound filling the space between you. All his weight drops onto you, the force of his thrusts moving you against the table. Your hand finds its way to his hair, pulling playfully. “Gonna make you mine, darlin’. Want something good with you.” He’s panting against your shoulder, and it’s all that you can do to hold onto him. “Make something I’m proud of. Something worthy of you.”

Rhett lets go of your hand, calloused fingers easing between you, rubbing at your clit, slow and steady. “You’re so good for me baby.”

“Rhett…” You’re not quite sure what you’re asking for other than more. More of him, more of his touch, the way each slow drag of his fingertips sends electricity coursing through you, the way he presses so incredibly deep, filling you, the sharp just of his hip bones against yours, the flutter of his heartbeat under your lips. He’s all consuming, and you’re taking all that he has to give. His name falls from your lips over and over as he brings you over the edge and you’re clutching at him as your orgasm tears through you.

He’s not too far behind you, spilling into you with a low growl, your name rattling around in your ears. Rhett presses another easy kiss to your mouth. “You really wanna be my wife?” He murmurs, eyes locking on to yours. When you nod, his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin, “and a whole mess of lil ones?”

“If you’ll have me Mr. Abbott.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around.” There’s a pink flush to his cheeks that travels down his neck. He hasn’t moved, still buried inside of you, his hands resting lightly on your thighs keeping you wrapped around him.

“You already asked, Rhett. I’m reminding you that you’re worthy of the world.”

“You are my world darlin’.” Rhett murmurs, nose pressed to the soft spot just beneath your ear. “And I’m not fixin’ to let you go anytime soon.”

-------

Tagging in:  @a-reader-and-a-writer  @hederasgarden    @writercole @evansrogerskitten  @roses-and-grasses @robertcallsignbobfloyd  @green-socks  @mayhem24-7forever @callsign-phoenix @yespolkadotkitty @princessmisery666   @cowboybarbie @princessmisery666 @sailorscuttle @blue-aconite @jostystyles @rhettabbotts @topguncortez @lt-natrace​ @therebeccaw​ @imjess-themess​ @hoe-on-the-range

#Rhett Abbott x reader #Rhett Abbott x you #Rhett Abbott/Reader #Rhett Abbott/You #smut #Outer Range #Outer Range fanfic #shelly writes #reader imagine #reader insert #Rhett Abbott

[callsign-joyride]

Hot Blooded | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Rhett to the rescue when a fire alarm in your apartment building goes off and you're taking a shower.

Pairing: firefighter!Rhett x f!reader

Content warnings: One of the other firefighters is an asshole, fluff, I wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's very short

It was late when you got back from having a night out with your friends. You didn’t have much to drink, maybe one or two beers, and you had water when you weren’t drinking, so you were okay to drive home. All you wanted to do was take your makeup off and shower, regardless of how late it was. So, you were standing under the hot water of the shower while listening to a podcast. You were waiting for your hair mask to run its course, and then you’d wash it out. That was the plan until the fire alarm went off. The noise startled you, but it was like you were frozen in fear. You didn’t smell any smoke, which was good. It meant that someone probably burned their food, so it wasn’t anything too serious. 

The only problems were that it was snowing outside and you didn’t have time to layer up enough to avoid freezing. You were mid-thought when someone started pounding on your bathroom door. They announced that they were from the fire department, and by that point, the alarm had been turned off. You quickly turned the water off and wrapped yourself in a towel before slightly opening the door.

”Ma’am, you need to leave the building,” one of the firefighters said. His name tag said Smith, so you assumed that that was his last name.

”I’m sorry, I was in the shower.”

”It doesn’t matter. The fire safety protocol says that-,”

”Calm down, dude. It’s freezing out there and she’s obviously okay. This area is cleared,” someone with Abbott on his name tag chimed in. 

“The chief won’t be happy about this.”

”Radio him and tell him that this room is clear. She doesn’t have to leave the building. Other apartments need to be cleared. This isn’t our biggest concern right now.”

Most of them left, except for Abbott. He closed the bathroom door and gave you time to get decent before speaking to you.

”I’m really sorry about that. A lot of our guys are sticklers about following the rules, but I wasn’t going to make you go outside,” he said.

”Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

”No problem. Can I ask why you were showering so late?”

”Oh, I went out with a couple of friends and I got back super late. I normally don’t shower at this time, though. It was more of a one-off,” you said, chuckling. 

“Yeah, I understand. I shower at the craziest times when I’m on call. I should probably get back to my team, but can you give me your phone number? You seem really nice, and maybe we could get coffee or something some time.”

”Sure!”

He pulled out a little notepad and a pen, nodding his head as you told him your phone number. When he had finished writing, he showed you to make sure that it was the correct number. Right before he left, he told you that his name was Rhett and that he’d be keeping in touch. Sure enough, when you woke up the next morning, there was a text on your phone from an unfamiliar number.

It’s firefighter Rhett from last night

Taglist:

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#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott series #outer range #rhett abbott x you #outer range fanfic #rhett abbott fanfiction

[sebsxphia]

Help I have a thot so rotten I need professional help.

Rhett is working and you rile him up - so.far so usual. At one point he snaps and ties you to a breeding stand and then proceed to mount you. All the while snarling how your going to be breed like an animal in heat when you act like one. No amount of pleading and begging will help you

￫ a/n: lemme fucking tell you something anon. i got this. read it. and was in shock for the next ten minutes. i love this so so so much it’s unhealthy 😵‍💫 welp! we’re going down!

￫ c/w: rhett using derogatory language towards the reader, comparing you to an animal in heat, rhett being mean and degrading to you, cnc, p in v, daddy kink, manhandling you, what’s in the ask is what you’re gonna get.

you’re both working in the barn through the afternoon, moving hay and other supplies, cleaning out the horses and keeping the rest of the livestock in check. the humid summer heat has past it’s highest point since midday, but you’re both still struggling through the heat. it’s unbearably hot inside your stuffy barn and understandably, you’re both agitated.

every so often when you pass by rhett, you squeeze at his bulging biceps or at his crotch that’s already supporting a semi from your heated touches. he lets out a low grumble the fifth time you pass him by and you mock pout at him.

“what is it, daddy?” you elongate the last part of your wording with a flirtatious touch and bat your eyelashes teasingly at him.

rhett’s jaw is set firm as he scowls at you. his eyebrows are knitted tightly together in frustration as he bites back at you. “quit it. you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ whore right now and it ain’t helping.”

“but, daddy—” you whine out again, but rhett is there to cut you off instantly.

“enough. fuckin’ help me finish this and maybe, i’ll be nice to y’ later.”

his tone is firm and unwavering, and you should know better than to push him, but you excuse the heat for your lack of better judgement.

“fuckin’ fine. i’m goin’ inside and finishing myself off, somethin’ you can’t do.”

that snaps the final cord of patience that rhett has inside of him for you. he’s quick to grab at your forearm with a bruising grip as you leave the barn. you yelp out and struggle against him as he manhandles you, pushing you closer to a corner of the barn. it overwhelms you how strong he can be. your thrashing is no use.

your eyes are wide when you see him dragging you closer to a breeding stand, yet you feel the inside of your stomach somersault at the prospect of what rhett is suggesting. you still go along with it however, pleading with desperation as he ties you to the breeding stand.

“r-rhett? what are you fuckin’ doin’?!” you land with a final thud as rhett pushes your neck down to rest on the head stand that would be used for animals. you’re bent over and on all fours, with your feet teetering and scraping along the hay covered floor. your dress is flipped over your ass and you feel rhett’s hot and calloused fingers hook inside your underwear and tear them completely from your frame.

“if you’re gon’ act like an animal in heat,” rhett’s voice behind you is an ugly snarl, his teeth biting at one another. “i’m goin’ to be breedin’ you like an animal in heat.”

you hear his belt buckle clang against itself before a harsh smack is delivered to your exposed ass and the backs of your thighs. in reaction, you let out a cry that ends with an embarrassing moan. you hate yourself for being so incredibly aroused by this, but you don’t hate yourself for playing into his fucked up little fantasy.

his hands grip tightly at the flesh of your hips as he mounts you like an animal himself. you let out another pleading moan as you feel his tip push through your folds.

“rhett! please, please—” you’re begging and pleading with him, but you don’t know what for.

another curt smack is issued to your ass as he stuffs himself full inside of you. “animals in heat don’t get a say in this, quit your whinin’ or i’ll stuff your mouth with a horse bit.”

#💌you’ve got mail #lorddddy #rhett abbott #sebs masterlist #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range fanfic #outer range drabble #outer range smut #outer range fic #outer range x reader #outer range imagine #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

[cherrycola27]

Idle Hands

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, violence/ fighting, rodeo inaccuracies, smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Part 2: Marlboro Reds and Motel Rooms

You sigh as you lay down on the bed in your motel room. Tossing your head back against the pillows, you see Rhett's hat dangling from the bed post. You sit up and smooth down the silk of your robe before reaching for the pack of cigarettes on your nightstand.

You fumbled for one and your lighter, mentally scolding yourself. It had been almost forty minutes since you'd invited Rhett to your room. Enough time for you to shower and change into a silk nightie with lace trim with a matching robe and panties.

You flicked your lighter and brought the tip of your cigarette to the flame and lit it, talking a long draw. As you exhaled the smoke, you came to terms with the fact that Rhett wasn't coming and you'd made a fool of yourself.

You were just about to pour yourself a drink when you heard a knock on your door. You padded across the room and glimpsed through the peephole, and smirked. You placed your lucky between your lips and opened the door.

Rhett stood there silently. One arm above his head, bracing against the door frame. His bicep straining against the material of his flannel shirt.

You took a long drag of your cigarette before exhaling slowly, smoke circling around Rhett. You tapped the butt of it, flicking the ash off before silently offering it to him.

Rhett grabbed it from in-between your fingers, took a drag, and then tossed it to the ground and stamped it out with his boot.

"Took you long enough to get here, Cowboy. Was beginning to think you weren't coming." You say to him in a sultry tone. "Wanted to give you a chance to change your mind." Rhett shrugged as he shifted to stand at his full height. "Wouldn't have given you a key if I was going to change my mind. Why didn't you use it?" You ask him as you cross your arms, pushing up your breasts in the process. You don't miss the way his eyes drop down to them before sliding back up to your face.

"Wanted to knock. Thought it was more gentlemanly than just barging in." He smirked. You rolled your eyes at him before looping your fingers through his belt loops and dragging him inside your room.

He steps in closing and locking the door behind him before taking a seat on the chair next to the lamp in the room.

"Care for a drink?" You ask him holding up a bottle. "Sure, darlin." He draws out, spreading his thighs. You grab some ice and drop it into two glasses before pouring the drinks.

You grab them and walk over to him. You pass Rhett a glass and take a long sip of yours, and he does the same. "S'good. What's it it?" He asks you. "Evan Williams with a splash of cherry cola." You tell him as you place your glass down and step between his thighs. He sits up a bit straighter.

"It's my poison of choice. Well, that, Marlboro Reds, and handsome cowboys. Been burned by all of 'em, I guess." You sigh as you tip his chin up.

"Is that so?" Rhett breathes out as he sets his glass down. He slides his hands up and over the pale pink silk that covers your body. His hands rest on your hips before be roughly yanks you down to straddle his thigh.

"I've got to ask you, Cowboy. Are you gonna burn me, too?" You cock your head to the side. "That depends, Bee. You gonna sting me?" Rhett challenges you.

"I'll be sweet to you if you're sweet to me. How does that sound, Rhett?" You draw out his name as you shift your hips against his denim cover leg.

"Sounds like a deal." He affirms before sealing his lips against yours and tightening his grip on your waist. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth as you slowly rock yourself against his thigh. Gasps of pleasure fall past your lips as Rhett slips his hands under your robe before palming the soft flesh of your ass.

He grabs the lace of your panties and pulls them tight, so they catch on your clit with each roll of your hips.

"You gonna get yourself off by riding my thigh? I've barely touched you and I can already feel how wet and needy you are for me, you little slut." Rhett gasps into your ear as your knee bumps against his cock.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like for me to leave a big ol'wet spot on your thigh so all those buckle bunny know exactly who you belong to? Huh?" You say as you grab at the long strands of his hair and pull his head back, forcing him to look at you.

"Fuck, yeah I would, Honey. You gonna make a mess all over me? Do it, baby." Rhett pleads as he guides your movements faster and faster until your cumming with a cry of his name. You slump against his chest and catch your breath before standing up and stripping off your underwear

You stuff your cum soaked panties into the breast pocket of his flannel. "What's that for?" He quirked an eyebrow at you. "I'm fresh out of gaudy belt buckles, but I thought you deserved a little something as a reward for a good ride." You smirk at him.

"S'that so?" He arches his brow as he pulls you in for another kiss before pulling your underwear out of his pocket. He brings it to his nose and inhales deeply before pulling back to admire them.

These'd look real pretty handing from my rear view mirror. Whatcha think about that, Bee?" He asks you with a smirk. "I think you're crazy, Cowboy. Now, how 'bout we focus on something else." You challenge him.

"Yeah? What's that?" Rhett asks you as his hands skim the silk nightie you're wearing, taking it in appreciatively. "You promised me a ride, Rhett. The best of my life, if I recall. So it's time for you to pony up. Or are you all bull and no saddle?"

Rhett growls in response, crashing his mouth into yours, forcing his tongue past your lips. He kisses you deeper this time. So deep you can taste the Marlboro Red, bourbon, and cherry cola you shared with him.

Your hands drop down to his obnoxiously oversized belt buckle and pry it open. You pop the button on his jeans and drag his fly down. He hisses at the contact.

Your hands fly to the shoulders of his flannel, straining against his biceps, and push it off of him before grabbing the hem of his white undershirt and pulling off. Both are discarded somewhere in the room.

You pull back to marvel at him, one of your hands traces over the bull tattooed on his peck. You want to laugh at the irony of it all, but it dies on your lips when his mouth finds the sensitive flesh behind your ear, and he sucks on it—hard—surely leaving a mark behind.

Abruptly, Rhett stands up from the chair and takes you with him. He tosses you on the bed. You land with a light bounce before he pushes his blue jeans and boxers to the floor with a loud clang of metal.

He steps to the foot of the bed, and that's when you see him in all his glory for the first time.

Rhett's large hand is wrapped around his impressively thick cock, lazily stroking it as he sizes you up. His hulking frame looms over you as you grind your thighs together in anticipation.

Your fingers grasp the hem of your nightgown to pull it off, but his deep voice cuts through the silence. "Leave it on. I know you wore that pretty little thing for me, and it would be a shame for it to go to waste." He commands you. You nod your head and drop your hands to your side.

Rhett climbs up the bed and hovers over you. He kisses you again, sweeter this time. It's a stark contrast to the way his hands are roaming over your body, roughly palming at your breasts over the lace before he drops them to your hips.

Without warning, Rhett flips you over onto your stomach. He pushes your head down into the mattress before pulling your hips into the air.

Your nightie slips down, revealing your perfectly round ass to him. He hums appreciatively as his fingers skim the expanse of your skin before giving a harsh smack to your right cheek.

You moan in surprise. Pleased with your reaction, Rhett does it again. "Fuck" He breathes out as he catches sight of just how wet you are for him.

He slides two fingers through your wetness and gathers it before spreading it over his cock.

He lines up with your entrance and takes his time, sinking into you slowly, inch by glorious inch, before he bottoms out.

The stretch of him is almost too much. If he was any bigger, it would be painful. But he gives you a few minutes to get used to his size before pulling back a few inches and pushing back in.

His hands firmly grip your hips as he begins to pull you back to meet his thrusts.

Low grunts of "Fuck. Feels so fucking good, and so fucking tight." Leave his lips as he rocks into you.

You claw at the sheets as he pounds into you, jostling you forward with every powerful snap of his hips.

You can feel the blunt tips of his fingernails dig into your thighs as you cry out his name. His cock is curved just right, causing the head if him to drag over that place inside you that has your eyes rolling back into your skull.

Rhett knows he's found it because your moans have turned into a continuous high-pitched whine as you beg him not to stop.

"You thought you were so slick with that smart fucking mouth of your earlier. Didn't you, Bee? Well, where's it at now? Huh?" Rhett taunts you as he slows down and bends over you, his lips close to your ear.

"I—I— please, Rhett." Is all you can manage to say as one of his large, calloused hands wraps around your throat while his other wraps around your middle.

He pulls you upright, flush against his strong chest, and begins to drive up into you.

His thumb and forefinger settled on either side of your throat as he applied pressure. Not cutting off your airway, but instead restricting the blood flow to your brain. It's not enough to hurt you, but it's enough to make you feel like you're floating. High and hazy in a pleasure filled euphoria.

He brings his other hand to your mouth and taps on your bottom lip. You open, and he slides two fingers past your lips. You obediently suck on them. Running your tongue over them until they are slick and spit is dripping down your chin. Rhett wonders if your mouth would feel just as good around his cock. Maybe he'll have to find out.

Once his digits are sufficiently coated, he pulls them out with a pop and uses them to rub harsh circles along your neglected clit.

He increases the pressure on your neck and feels your pussy flutter around him, signaling to him that you're close.

"You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum all over my cock like you did my thigh? Fucking dirty girl. I know you want to." He goads you.

You want to reply, but you can't. Suddenly, Rhett's eyes spot his hat hanging from the bed post. He stops without warning, and you cry out.

"Hush, girl." He scolds you as he reaches for it before placing it atop his head.

"You wanted a good ride from your cowboy. Can't do that without my hat, Darlin." He draws out before snapping his hips into you again.

You keen before reaching back and lacing your fingers into the hair that's curled at the nape of his neck. Rhett resumes his previous position with one hand on your throat and the other on your clit as he pounds into you. You can't do anything but take each delicious thrust.

You're toes start to curl as you feel your high approaching again.

"I'm close." You warn him, but he already knows. "C'mon Bee. Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum all over your Cowboy's cock." He encourages you before sealing his lips over the spot where your neck and shoulders meet, and sucking on your pulse point.

It sends you hurdling over the edge and you cum hard around him, crying out his name.

Rhetts close, too, and suddenly, he's aware that he isn't wearing protection and doesn't know if you're on birth control. So, he quickly pulls out of you, and flips you onto your back.

You whine a complaint at the sudden emptiness, but a wide smile breaks out across your face as Rhett straddles your torso with his cock in his hand, and his hat still on his head

"M'gunna cum all over that pretty face of yours, Honeybee." Rhett says as he strokes his cock. You moan eagerly and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

Moments later, white hot ropes of his cum paint your face and cheeks. Some land in your mouth, others in your eyelashes, and a few on your chest.

You squeal with delight as Rhett pants and takes in the sight of you.

You quickly lick what you can from your face, swallowing it down. But before you can show Rhett what you've done, he's leaning down licking his cum off your tits, neck, cheeks and lashes.

He gathers it in his mouth before looming over you. He grips your chin, and you open without hesitation, and he spits his release into your waiting mouth.

You quickly swallow all of it down, savoring the salty, musky taste before sticking out your tongue for him.

"Good girl, Bee." He praises you before leaning down for a filthy kiss.

You break apart and push him off of you.

"That was amazing." You say to him. "We'll have to do this again sometime. And next time, just so you know, I have an IUD, so you can cum in me." You tell him as you sit up.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower and get cleaned up. You can let yourself out." You say to him as you stand up. Rhett sits up, looking a little confused.

"What?" He asks you, not sure if he heard you right.

"I said you can let yourself out. But give me your phone so I can put my number in it. You can text me if you want to do this again." You say to him.

Unsure of what to do, Rhett finds his pants and grabs his phone. You put your number in and hand it back to him.

You give him one last kiss before slipping into the bathroom.

Rhett stands there silently in your room for a minute as he listens to the water running, before gathering his things.

He slides his boxers and jeans back on and pulls his shirt over his head. Before he leaves, he grabs one of your cigarettes and lights it up on his way back to his truck.

He takes a long drag of it as he wonders what in the hell he has gotten himself into.

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#cherrycola27 #rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #rhett abbott smut #outer range #outer range fanfiction #idle hands #Spotify

[floydsmuse]

keep me warm

warnings: 18+, mdni, fingering, p in v, cock warming, little fluff too <3

pairing: Rhett Abbott x f! reader (no y/n)

description: after working out at the ranch on a particularly freezing day, Rhett returns home to you & is in need of some warming up…(wc 2k+)

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a/n: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate lovelies! i haven’t written for Rhett in a minute, so i just knew i needed to :)) i really hope you enjoy this! as always, likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too🥰💕 tysm!

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Rhett had been working around the ranch on a particularly frigid day. it was that weird transitional period between fall & winter. it hadn’t snowed yet, but the weather was destined to leave one frostbitten if they didn’t take the proper precautions & bundle up. you knew Rhett was a grown man & was fully capable of taking care of himself, but you couldn’t help but gently remind him to put on a winter coat & some additional layers for extra warmth. it’s not that you tried to be bossy, but you cared deeply about his well-being & didn’t want to see him get sick.

Rhett really appreciated your concern & certainly thanked his lucky stars that he had you in his life, to keep him in line & be his life support during tough times. but for whatever reason, this time he chose not to listen to your requests. instead his stubborn side coming out, with him completely neglecting to take his coat & opting to just wear one of his infamous flannels before heading out to the ranch.

you were too caught up at your own job to be aware that Rhett was putting himself through a form of self sabotage. you yourself were feeling the cold, just eager to be off the clock & head on home to your bf. you pictured the both of you cuddled up under some wool blankets, in front of the fireplace, in the comforts of your cozy little house. you knew Rhett would be needing all the warmth he could get, having been working out in the freezing cold all day long.

~

the time had finally reached five & you were on your way out. the cold air immediately struck your body as soon as you stepped outside, making you shiver involuntarily & goosebumps were forming on your skin. even with all of the layers you had on, it still had a great effect on you. you had hoped that Rhett would be back at the house by the time you’d arrive, but you knew he’d sometimes get caught up & wouldn’t always be back at a consistent time or hour.

~

about a ten minute drive or so goes by & you arrive back. you don’t see Rhett’s car in the driveway & your heart sinks to your stomach. he was still out & it was pitch black now. you considered calling him, to see when he’d be back. you reach for your phone in your bag, pull up Rhett’s contact & call him. only a few rings are heard on your end & it goes straight to voicemail. you let out a sigh, but figured that he was either too busy finishing up something or maybe he was heading back now, too focused on his driving to pick up. you had hoped it was the latter. shaking your head, you turn off the car, grab your bag & quickly head inside.

you knew you were going to wait for Rhett to get home to have dinner like you always did, so you decided in the meantime to set out some blankets & pillows in the den. you made yourself a cup of tea & waited for him to get back.

~

some time had passed & you found yourself drifting off into a light slumber. before sleep could fully take over your body though, the sound of the front door opening & closing shut is what made you regain complete consciousness. you hear the familiar sound of heavy footsteps coming in your general direction. but before they fully reach you, you hear Rhett head into the kitchen & presumably grab a drink from the fridge. you’re still half asleep & once you up look at the clock with heavy eyes, you notice that it’s almost 9:30 pm. you mentally smack Rhett across the head for coming home so late. damn Royal would push him too hard sometimes, keeping him out too late & making him work through harsh conditions especially on a night like this where the weather had reached below double digits. you were mentally slapping him across the head too. you suddenly perked up at the sound of those heavy footsteps again, approaching you now. you turn your head slightly to see that he’s shivering & his teeth are slightly chattering. his cheeks & nose are a bright red, his eyes watery. he looks like he was on the brink of being frostbitten. you don’t hesitate to get up from your place on the couch, reaching out to gently touch his face,

“ah babe, you’re colder than ice! come sit, sit. get nice & cozy under the blankets. i’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Rhett doesn’t quite say anything, as you practically push him down onto the couch & throw the blankets around his body. you were about to make your way back to the kitchen, but before you could make another move he grabs your arm,

“do-don’t need tea. just need ya right ere’ with me.”

his words come out through click clackity teeth & you don’t even think twice about getting under the blankets with him. you wrap your arms around his frame, the chill emanating off of him, as he clings closer to your body. there’s a comfortable silence between the pair of you, with you trying to warm Rhett back to life & him just allowing it to happen. after only a few moments you break the ever growing silence,

“is there a reason why you didn’t wear your coat or put on some extra layers? you could’ve gotten yourself sick or even worse.”

concern was evidently laced in your voice. you weren’t trying to be raid him or interrogate him, but you wanted to get to the bottom of this. Rhett was still not warming up, even from being under all of the thick blankets. there were times when Rhett simply didn’t use his head & often threw himself into situations without thinking twice about the consequences or results. it was something you knew he was trying to work on, but he still found himself slipping back into his usual ways.

Rhett shifts slightly from his seat on the couch, trying to find his voice in his current predicament. he doesn’t say anything, instead he pulls you directly onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. his hand reaches for yours, placing it down onto his bulge & your breath hitches in your throat,

“i- i need ya to…”

Rhett’s voice comes out strained & he can’t seem to put into words what he’s needing. you reach up with your other hand as it meets the side of his face, rubbing your thumb lightly over his cheek & encouraging him to convey to you what he wants in this moment,

“i’m so cold. i..i need ya to warm me up, please.”

he pleaded, practically begging you for some sort of relief & pulling you closer into him by your hips. you finally understood what he was yearning for & didn’t waste another second. you lean forward, placing a quick peck to his chapped lips. you shift awkwardly. removing your work pants, leaving you in just your panties & sweatshirt. next you go to unzip Rhett’s jeans & pull them down enough to let his cock free from its restraints, fiery red & veiny in all of its glory.

you grab a hold of it & begin to give it some light strokes. it was chilled to the touch & you heard Rhett let out a groan at the sudden action. you knew that it was going to be a stretch due to the very size alone & you weren’t even sure if it would fit due to the lack of lubrication. you make a decision, opting to take a digit & stick it into your weeping hole. your measly finger enters & starts off at rather decent pace. you certainly don’t feel as full or complete, but you figured that it would do for now. Rhett takes notice of you going at it. he grabs your hand & instead replaces your finger with his one of own. he pumps it in & out, making sure to curl it for your upmost pleasure & allowing it to rub against your gummy walls each time. all that was heard were the squelching wet noises coming from your pussy & the sounds of your little whimpers. you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the very sensation & let out an almost pornagraphic moan. Rhett’s fingers always felt so much better than yours. them being bigger & longer, completely capable of hitting that spot inside you just right,

“don’t stop, agh..feels amazing.”

you breathily let out, knowing damn well that Rhett wasn’t going to stop until you reach your breaking point.

you find yourself grinding onto his finger, bouncing up & down onto him as he adds in a second one. you swear his fingers were like magic & always were capable of making you completely crumble from their movements. each pump ignites a fire deep inside of you & makes stars line your vision. you keep up on your rhythm. your eyes roll into the back of your head, as Rhett continues to vigorously finger you like his life depended on it. he lets out light curses at the beautiful sight of you above him, in such a pleasure induced state,

“Rhett, im gonna-“

before you could even finish your sentence, you let go. your orgasm hitting you like a wave in the ocean & all you could do was fall into Rhett’s chest, as he pulls his fingers out of you & lets you take a second to compose yourself. you were a trembling mess above him, panting & trying to steady your breathing. Rhett reaches up to brush your hair out of your face & places a kiss onto your now sweat glistened forehead. you press your foreheads together, to regain some much needed energy & stamina. you knew that you had to return the favor now. you knew what Rhett was so desperately needing.

you lift your head up from his chest & grab hold of his now hardened cock. he lets out a grunt & allows his head to fall back against the edge of the couch. you don’t waste another minute, lining up his plush mushroom tip with your seeping wet entrance. you sink down onto him & you both let out a collective gasp at the intimate connection. you start to pick up on a steady rhythm, but Rhett is quick to stop you. you look down at him through hooded eyes, as he pulls you back into his chest, hugging you to him as if you were a life line. all he wanted was the close contact & the warmth ness of your slick covered walls in this very moment.

you cuddle up further into Rhett, wrapping your arms around him, while his arms wrap securely around your waist. you could hear him letting out little hums & sighs of contentment at the intimate closeness. you were happy to know that you were the only one who had the ability to make him feel like this. to give him the access to just be wrapped up in you & become absolute putty in your grasp. your hand reaches up to rub the hair at his nape, & you find yourself leaving feather light kisses along the side of his neck. it wasn’t meant as a gesture to take things further, it was instead used as a way to ground him & to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. you knew how bad Rhett needed this. how bad he was craving it. he had you completely filled up & linked to him. you couldn’t lie, you loved moments like these. you loved that you had a partner like Rhett who doesn’t shy away from what he needs & isn’t afraid to let you take care of him. it wasn’t always this way, but as your relationship progressed & you two grew together, he let this guarded persona subside & invited you in. Rhett trusted you & felt this security, this longing he had been missing since he met you. he was indebted to you & only you.

you knew you were going to have a serious talk with him tomorrow about bundling up when he goes out to work again & insist that you will “fight” him on it next time if he refuses. but for now you two stayed like this, intimately connected & at bliss in your cozy little home.

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#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

[bussyslayer333]

Right down the line

summary: you take rhett to the beach, he thinks you should stay there forever.

pairing: rhett abbott x girlfriend!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some suggestiveness, swearing, rhett is a loverboy™️

Rhett is sat on an old beach towel watching you from a distance whilst you dip your toes into the water. He feels so fucking happy it hurts. It’s so intangible to you that he never seems to let himself feel this way; carefree.

When Rhett told you that he’d never been to the beach, you were shocked first and then you were quietly upset. Although, you’d never let him see. If there was one thing Rhett Abbott refused to take from someone, it was pity.

So, you secretly organised a road trip to this tiny beach town in California that your parents always used to take you to as a child.

The roadtrip down with Rhett was utter bliss. Watching his handsome face in all shades of the sunshine as he drove, strong hands one on the wheel and the other a comforting presence on the soft flesh of your thigh.

You had directed Rhett towards the small cove beach that you had remembered correctly from when you were younger, quickly grabbing your beach bag and his hand, pulling him down the makeshift rock steps.

It was virtually deserted save for the few locals on early evening dog walks or runs. You set the beach towels down and shimmy out of your shorts and tank top, leaving you stood in front of Rhett in your flimsy tie bikini.

“You’ve been hiding this,” he teases, reaching to grab at the flesh of your ass, pulling you into his lap.

You swat at his large hands that go to play with the strings at the side of the bikini bottoms and tut.

“I’m not getting fined for public indecency because you can’t keep it in your pants,” You roll your eyes playfully.

Rhett takes your face in his strong hand, squeezing your lips together and leaning in to give you a peck. Which turns into another peck and then he’s trying to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You pull back in mock anger, “you’re insatiable.”

Rhett chases after your lips once more, stealing a kiss, “you’re delicious,” he mumbles against you.

You smile, and reach for the bottom of his shirt, beginning to pull it up. Rhett laughs and takes his cap off, allowing for you to pull his shirt off. Immediately, your hands go for his toned and tanned chest, your finger tracing over the tattoo there before you place a chaste kiss on his pec.

“Will you come in the water with me?” you plead.

Rhett looks hesitant, eyes moving past your shoulder to watch the waves lapping at the sand.

“You knock yourself out darlin’, I’ll join you later.”

“Promise?” You pout, sticking out your pinky finger.

Rhett chuckles but links his pinky with yours either way, patting you on the behind as you get up. He watches the way your hips sway tantalisingly as you walk towards the water, taking a moment to thank whatever God sent you to him.

The water is a tepid sort of cool, providing you some solstice from the Californian heat that had been beating down on you all day. You let it wash over your feet first, it’s a clear colour, foaming white where the waves gently crash against one another. After a few moments of wading around you turn to look back at your boyfriend. He’s been watching you with a lazy smile on his face, leant back on his forearms with his cap proving some shade on his face.

He watches as you beckon him over with an inviting arm. Rhett considers for a moment, and decides fuck it, he was done with letting the best things slip him by. But you, you were right in front of him, with a promise of not going anywhere and you were the best thing that could ever happen to him.

Rhett makes the small journey over to you, shivering slightly at the difference in temperature from the hot sand to the cool waves. He wades over to where you’re stood, water just around your hips.

Without warning, Rhett scoops you up into his strong embrace.

You squeal, “Oh my God! You brute,”

Rhett is laughing so heartily you find yourself breaking out into giggles as well, kissing all around his face, just to make sure the smile never drops from his heartbreakingly handsome face.

Rhett wades further into the water with you in his arms, allowing you to move around so that your legs are straddling his waist. Water is now softly rippling against your chests. It’s so peaceful you could cry.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums so casually, like it’s a fact of the universe.

To Rhett it is.

Your face flushes under the inspection of Rhett’s eyes, wandering over your skin with such adoration and attention to detail it rivals even the most respected art critics.

You join your lips to Rhett’s slowly, savouring in the taste of him. The kiss is intense, tongues and lips clashing and melting together, wet saliva noises that you would usually find disgusting coming from your mouths.

You whimper slightly as Rhett shifts you around in his strong grip, your crotch lightly rubbing over his semi. You pull back from the kiss, forehead resting against his. Your breaths mingle for a second, lips still so close to each other.

“I love you so much,” you whisper.

Rhett smiles, “I love you more.”

You roll your eyes and flick some water at him. He gasps in faux anger and moves to flick more water at you. You shriek and wriggle in his grasp, swimming towards the shallow water. Once the water is lapping at your knees, Rhett grabs you once again, strong arms tight around your waist, spinning you around.

Your giggles are loud and unrelenting. When he finally plops you down you catch your breath, leading him back to the sand.

You stand with your back to Rhett’s chest, head on his pecs. His chin is resting on your head and his arms are still tightly wrapped around you as you both take in the colours of the setting sun.

“We should stay here forever,” Rhett mumbles into your hair, mostly joking.

“We should,” you affirm, taking his hand in your own and pulling it up to place a kiss on the back of it.

He hums, content.

a/n: goddamn i need this man so bad

rhett come home the kids miss you 😞😞😞

i hope u all enjoy my first lil rhett piece hehehe

pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!

thank u for reading :)

- honey <333

#outer range #outer range rhett #rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #rhett abott x reader #lewis pullman #outer range imagine #outer range rhett abbott #rhett abbott fluff #outer range fanfic

[hederasgarden]

Stand By Me - Part 1

Summary: When a local ranch hand’s attention evolves into something more sinister, Rhett Abbott becomes an unlikely source of comfort and protection for you. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 4K (SORRY) Rating: Mature, future chapters will be explicit and 18+ only. Stalking, anxiety, panic attack, and Rhett being protective. Future chapters will include some violence. No spoilers for Outer Range. A/N: This will be a three part series. I cannot thank @wildbornsiren, @mayhem24-7forever and @callsign-phoenix enough for their help and support putting this together. Thank you @callsignhurricane for the absolutely gorgeous header.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist

He’s back again, lingering at the front of the store by the power tool display.

Even though his straw hat is pulled low to shield his face, you know it’s him. Greasy strands of thin blond hair peek out from under his hat and you recognize the distinctive scar running down the side of his neck that disappears into his shirt. You don’t know his name, only that he’s a seasonal worker at one of the ranches outside of town. He came to the hardware store one morning weeks ago to buy supplies to fix a downed fence. Your conversation was brief, but even then he unsettled you. His gaze lingering too long, fingers brushing over the bare skin of your forearm as you turned to leave.

You tried to forget about the strange interaction until he started showing up like clockwork during your shifts. He never bought anything, just lingered and stared. When he did speak, it was always questions that were overly personal, though never quite bad enough for you to feel comfortable calling him out. Any space you tried to put between the two of you was quickly eaten up by his imposing frame. He made you feel small, vulnerable. After the first few times, you learned to stay behind the counter when he was in the store, anxious to face him without something between you.

By far, the worst was the strange little gifts you’d find on your car windshield after he left. They started small like your favorite flowers or little stuffed animals, but quickly escalated. Sometimes it was things you remembered mentioning that you needed to coworkers or customers. New gardening gloves when your old pair got a hole or a phone charger for the one that broke. A few times you found charcoal drawings of yourself tucked under the wiper. They were nearly all of your face and always done in achingly deep detail.

That’s when you went to the Sheriff; but he wasn’t much help. He made it clear that he thought you were overreacting, even going so far as to suggest that you should take the attention as a compliment. Deputy Joy had been more willing to listen, offering to sit outside the store and catch him in the act.

He never showed on the days she was there.

Things got worse when he asked you out and you politely declined, citing a boyfriend that didn’t really exist. His 'gifts' continued, but the tone shifted dramatically. Dead flowers and sketches torn or with your eyes scratched out. You tried to go back to the police station half a dozen times but always lost your nerve. Instead you kept quiet, embarrassed and scared, half hoping he’d lose interest or move onto the next town for work.

You didn’t tell anyone else until Cecilia Abbott caught you crying in your car early in front of the store one morning. She was a regular, coming in weekly for supplies or just to chat with the owner, Mr. Anderson, always with a kind word for you and the other employees. You didn’t want to tell her about the man. Then she knocked on your window, looking so concerned, and you couldn’t help it. You didn’t tell her everything though, feeling like somehow this whole situation was your fault. It was too embarrassing to share all the things he’d done so you downplayed it.

Even though she couldn’t do much, Cecilia made you feel heard and offered you her number. “Next time he shows I’ll send my husband down, he’ll straighten the man out.”

At the time, you accepted the slip of paper but declined her offer, worried any action would only make it worse. Now, you wished you had let her help. It’s only 30 minutes until you’re supposed to close up the store and he’s your only customer. It was already dark outside, the few lights that lined the main street flickering to life. You track him as he moves through the store, your foot tapping anxiously against the barstool. You're craning your neck to follow him when the air conditioner kicks in. The jarring, unexpected sound makes you jump and the stool scrapes against the floor loudly. He looks up, the brim of his hat lifting just enough for you to see a flash of his light green eyes and pale face before you look away. You can feel his gaze on you and the memory of his warm breath on your neck when he once stood too close to you resurfaces.

You press a shaking hand over your mouth. Fear and self-doubt war inside, making your early dinner sit like a stone in your stomach. Before you can think too hard about it, you pick up the old phone by the register and pull out the crumpled paper from your pocket. Cecilia answers on the third ring, her soft, familiar voice a comfort as she greets you.

“I hate to bother you so late,” you whisper, twisting the cord of the phone around your finger. “But…” you begin, only to trail off, feeling stupid for calling her. “Nevermind, it’s nothing,” you continue quietly.

“He’s back honey, isn’t he?” She questions, the concern in her voice clear.

“Yes and I’m closing tonight.” You pause and lean to the right, looking past the register to check he’s still in the shop. He's lingering at the front display again, far enough away you can’t exactly tell what he’s doing. “I’m probably blowing this out of proportion–”

She cuts you off with an empathetic sound. “No. You’re not. I’ll send Royal or one of the boys up. Old Mr. Anderson shouldn’t be having a woman closing up all on her own anyhow.”

The relief you feel is immediate but underneath is the ever-present worry that you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to. It’s a 20 minute drive into town for whoever she sends to help. What if they thought you were wasting their time, like the sheriff did?

“Cecilia, I…I,” you stammer.

She makes a soft sound and you close your eyes. “It's not a problem, honey. You sit tight.”

After you hang up, the minutes seem to crawl by. You split your time watching the clock and trying to keep track where the man is in the store. It’s hard to concentrate. Every little creak of the old wooden floor and any flash of movement sends an anxious spike of adrenaline through your heart. At 9:55 you stand and lock the register, bending down to retrieve your purse from under it. When you straighten up, the man is standing on the other side of the counter. You flinch and trip back and his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist.

“Woah there, baby girl." He practically purrs the words, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. “You’re jumpy tonight.”

An automatic apology is tumbling from your lips before you can call it back. He smirks, leaning forward and you tug your hand away, holding it tightly to your body. He stares at you without speaking for a long moment until the bell over the door jingles. He turns immediately, an unhappy tick in his jaw, but you breathe out in relief.

It’s Rhett Abbott, Cecelia’s youngest son. You don’t know him well, never moving past exchanging pleasantries whenever he came into the store or you saw him around town though you nursed a crush on him from afar throughout high school. Tonight he looks like he came straight from work, wearing dirty jeans and a blue button-up shirt over a white henley, sleeves rolled up to expose his tan forearms. He tips his hat when he sees you, cutting his gaze to the man in front of you.

“Think I forgot something,” the man says suddenly, his eyes darting angrily away from you to stare at Rhett. "Why don’t you help your new customer while I go find it."

He takes off down the middle aisle, keeping watch on Rhett’s progress towards you. You know the man is waiting for you to be alone again. The realization kicks up your anxiety even more and you have to clasp your hands together to keep from shaking.

“Hey,” Rhett greets, setting his hat on the counter and leaning forward on his elbows. His hair has grown longer since you last saw him, curling under his tan jaw but his blue eyes are just as intense and beautiful as you remember. “Ma said you got an admirer,” he tells you, a single brow raised. He glances over his shoulder briefly and then returns his attention to you. “I’ll walk you to your car after you lock up.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, slipping the strap of your purse over your shoulder.

Rhett straightens up and you look past him, meeting the pair of pale green eyes that watch you through the shelves. A cold rush of fear washes over your body and you make a little sound, something between a wheeze and whimper. You’re frozen in place, heart beating wildly. Rhett says your name but you can’t make yourself respond until he lays a hand on your arm. You flinch at his soft touch, your scared gaze jumping back to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Rhett asks. “Did he do something to you?”

A tear slips down your face, betraying what you want to so desperately hide. You shake your head, staring into his kind eyes and concerned face. You’re afraid that once you start, you won’t be able to stop. Rhett’s face darkens and he rises to his full height. Your arm shoots out, twisting the loose fabric of his open shirt to hold him in place.

“Don’t. Please.”

“Alright, it’s okay,” he soothes, stepping back up to the counter. His hand settles over yours and he squeezes, thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “I’m just gonna ask him to leave, alright? Nothing else.”

“Okay,” you agree, scared for more than just yourself this time. You have no idea what the man might do when confronted or if he would hurt Rhett for trying to help you.

You hold your breath when Rhett walks away, straining to hear whatever quiet conversation he has with the man. You expect him to argue or maybe cause a scene but their conversation is brief. He looks back at you, jaw clenched, and then stalks off towards the front of the store. Rhett follows him to the door, locking it behind him and flipping the sign from open to closed. Despite the clear dismissal to leave, the man remains outside watching.

Rhett makes his way to you, but doesn’t stop at the counter, rounding it to get close enough to lay a hand on your shoulder. His touch is nothing like the man’s; it’s light, meant to soothe and comfort. You stare up at him, watching him frown when he sees the man is still there. In response, Rhett gently pushes you towards the back storeroom until you’re both hidden from the view of the front windows.

Until you’re hidden from him.

“What’s going on?” Rhett asks, careful to keep his tone soft.

Your throat constricts and when you open your mouth, a little sob comes out, your shoulders shaking. Everything you’ve been holding back these past few weeks comes out in an uncontrollable rush. Your breaths come in short little gasps for air, your chest heaving. Rhett looks so alarmed that it only makes you cry harder. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, looking everywhere but at you. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he shifts forward and his strong arms encircle your body.

He holds you against him tightly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head while other rests along your lower back. You’re not sure if he’s speaking actual words or just making some kind of low sound meant to soothe you. Either way, it works. As the low warble of his voice slowly penetrates your panicked mind, you suck in a deep lungful of air.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Breathe for me. I got ya. You’re safe.”

You realize for the first time that you actually are safe, protected in his arms. You sag against him and Rhett grunts, absorbing your weight. For several long moments you stay like that, face buried in his chest and his chin resting atop your head. He speaks to you like a spooked animal, but you can't even find in yourself to feel embarrassed. It feels good to be held and reassured when you’ve been scared for so long.

Only after you fall quiet in his arms does Rhett pull back and look at you, searching your face. He doesn’t have to ask the question again, you know what he wants to know.

“I’m sorry,” you start, wiping at your face. There’s a wet patch on Rhett’s shirt from your tears.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he assures you. “Just tell me what’s going on. Did he touch you? Hurt you?” He demands.

“I think he might want to,” you admit quietly. You’re not sure how to tell him just how awful these last few weeks have been. How scared you are. “I went to the Sheriff when it all started…” You trail off and Rhett scoffs, his opinion on the older man clear.

“It started when he began leaving me gifts. They weren’t so bad at first… Then he asked me out. I lied and said I had a boyfriend. I thought he might take that better than me just saying no, but he got scary after that.”

“Scary how?” Rhett presses, forehead wrinkling.

You close your eyes, ashamed.

“You can tell me,” Rhett encourages, a knuckle under your chin tipping your face back. Your skin tingles where he touches you.

“It might be easier to show you…” you tell him, reaching into your purse to pull out your phone.

You unlock it and bring up your camera roll before handing it to him. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he scrolls through the photos of all the gifts the man left you. You’d taken care to document everything on the advice of Deputy Joy, not that the Sheriff cared to look at the evidence.

“Does he know where you live?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. I’ve only found the gifts here.”

“But you’re not sure?” He presses.

“No,” you admit.

“Right, I’m driving you home,” Rhett says, handing your phone back. “I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow.”

You want to tell him no, worried about how much of his time you’ve already wasted. He was only here at Cecelia’s insistence, and he probably had a pretty girl waiting for him at The Handsome Gambler.

“You don’t have to,” you tell him.

“I want to,” he assures you,

There’s something in the way he looks at you that bleeds away any argument. “Okay,” you agree.

On the way to his truck, Rhett keeps his hand on your upper back, his body close to yours. His sharp blue eyes survey the empty street as he urges you along. Even though there is no sign of the man you know that doesn’t mean anything. There are pockets of darkness between the buildings and he could be in any one of them.

Watching. Waiting.

When you shiver, Rhett shifts his palm higher on your back, hand curling so his blunt fingernails catch on the patch of skin at the base of your neck. It's such a simple gesture but it does so much to calm you.

“It’s alright, I’m here” he assures, opening the car door and waiting until you’re buckled in before shutting it firmly.

You give him your address and he puts the truck in gear, pulling out onto the empty street. Both of you watch the rear view mirror for any sign of lights or a vehicle. There’s none but you don’t relax. Rhett doesn’t talk, fiddling with the stereo until an old bluesy country song crackles over the radio. A little of your anxiety subsides and you relax into the old leather seats. Every few minutes you can feel his eyes on you, but you stare straight ahead, unused to the weight of someone else's worry.

He slows the truck down when he turns onto your street, searching in the darkness for your house number.

“That’s me.” You point to a two-story house at the end of the street. “I’m on the second floor.”

It’s an older home, dated and frankly falling apart in places. The lady who owned both units, a woman in her 70s named Mabel, gave you a good deal on the rent. It was worth it to have your own space though now, as you stared up at the dark windows with a sense of foreboding spreading through your chest, you wished you didn’t live alone.

Rhett seems to sense your hesitation and reaches out to touch your shoulder. “Want me to come up for a bit? Check it out?"

“It’s silly, I’m sure everything is fine,” you tell him.

“It ain't,” Rhett says earnestly. “You have every right to be scared.”

It’s a relief to have someone take you seriously, but the disquiet in Rhett’s eyes chases away any comfort that knowledge brings because it’s clear he thinks you're in real danger.

“If you don’t mind, maybe you can come up…”

“Give me your keys,” he says, holding out his hand. “Lock the doors after I get out, okay?”

He doesn’t move until he’s sure you’ve heard him. You nod, doing as he asks after he takes off. It’s a long five minutes, waiting in the truck for him to return. You pick at your nails and chew on your upper lip, old anxious habits that give you a little bit of relief, though it’s not until you see him jogging back down that you feel like you can finally breathe.

“It’s all clear, come on,” he says, holding onto your elbow to steady you as you exit the car.

He follows close behind as you walk up the stairs, shutting the front door firmly behind him once you’re both inside. You drop your purse on the couch, eyes wandering around your apartment. It appears the same as you left it this morning but you can’t help looking at everything with fresh, suspicious eyes.

Rhett says your name softly and you turn to face him. He’s watching you, waiting.

“Thank you for everything,” you tell him sincerely, wanting him to understand how much you appreciate his kindness. “For driving me home and for, um, caring.”

You don’t even realize you’re wringing your hands until he steps forward and settles a large hand over yours to stop the nervous tick. The warmth from his touch takes the tension from your shoulders. You stare up at him, just breathing and soaking up his touch. He takes a step closer, saying your name quietly but before he can continue, his phone rings. You jerk back on instinct at the shrill sound, his hand falling away from yours. Rhett purses his lips and looks down at the screen.

“It’s my mother,” he says. “Probably wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“Please tell her thanks.”

Rhett nods. "Hey Ma,” he greets, turning away from you.

You move towards the kitchen, feeling like you should offer him a cup of coffee or at least a beer for the trouble you’ve put him through. You also want to give him some privacy, though the walls are thin and you catch pieces of his conversation anyway.

“Not exactly," you hear Rhett say. "It's worse than she let on.” There's a beat and then he speaks again. “I’m a little worried he might. Thinking I should spend the night outside in my car just in case.” Another pause. “Yeah, I know. Not exactly my first night sleeping in the truck, Ma.”

It’s already cold outside and you know the temperature will continue to drop the later it gets. The thought of Rhett spending the night in his truck for you brings on a fresh wave of self doubt and guilt. You feel like you’re back in the sheriff’s station again, making a big deal out of nothing.

“I got my rifle in the truck. It’s fine,” he continues.

The mention of the gun surprises you, kicking up your heartbeat again. You creep back to the doorway to watch him. His back is to you, one hand parting your lace curtains to look out your window.

“Yeah, I thought so too. I'll see if I can get her to go back to the sheriff with me in the morning."

Anxiety crawls under your skin at the thought of having to face Sheriff Burtt again. He made you feel so small and silly last time, but maybe it would be different with Rhett at your side.

“Okay, love you too, Ma,” he says, hanging up. He seems surprised to see you standing in the doorway though he doesn’t act upset. Instead he looks a little concerned. “You alright?” He asks.

“You don’t have to sit out in the truck for me. It’s… it’s probably okay,” you tell him, even though you don’t exactly believe the words yourself. You want to give him out.

“I’d feel better if I did,” says, closing the distance between the two of you. He slips his hat off and holds it to his chest, making sure he has your attention before continuing. “I want you to come with me to the sheriff’s tomorrow morning. I’m gonna make him listen, okay? We’ll get this handled.”

“I’ll go if you agree to sleep on the couch,” you offer. At least in your apartment he’d be warm and close by.

The corner of his mouth lifts up briefly as he watches you. “You drive a hard bargain, but I can agree to that.”

“I’ll get the spare linens and a pillow for you,” you tell him with a smile.

When you return to the living room he’s back at the window, watching the street outside. His hat sits on your coffee table. You make up the couch as best you can though there’s nothing you can do about the fact he’s too tall to fit comfortably. The realization adds to the guilty feelings you already carry.

“Much better than the truck,” Rhett assures you. “Thanks.”

You nod and leave him to get yourself ready for bed. It’s nearly 11pm and you’re exhausted. As you wash your face and go through your nightly routine, you’re overly aware of how easily every sound travels through the wall. You exchange your work clothes for your well-worn pajamas. Even though that helps you feel better, there’s still that low buzz of apprehension. You close your eyes and see the man’s scary green eyes again.

Your throat tightens in response and you move towards the door before you realize what you’re doing. Quietly, you creep down the hall to the living room, mindful of the rickety floorboards that could give you away. All the lights are off but you can make out Rhett’s sitting on the couch, hands resting on his thighs. He’s removed his blue shirt and wears only his white henley. The barest hint of golden stumble is visible along the sharp lines of his jaw. He sighs and leans back, tucking a hand under his head. The frantic beat of your heart slows and you stand there for several moments watching him.

Eventually, you withdraw and return to your room, sliding under the cool covers. You hardly know Rhett but there’s something about him that makes you believe everything will be okay. With him there sleep comes easy, you know nothing bad will happen to you.

✥

Chapter 2

#rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #outer range fanfic #outer range

[southpawbitch]

Busy | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Masterlist (this is part FIVE; read the others here)

word count: 1.7k

summary: rhett ends things (feels like a spoiler, but c'mon guys...what did you think was going to happen?)

warnings: mentions of cheating, maria, reader has an alarm set to take birth control

A/N: so as promised, here's the next part! i don't super love it...i was trying very hard to avoid them having this convo, but i really needed a transition because the next part will be a time skip! lightly edited (i'm a working gal). hope u enjoy!!! x MJ

Rhett’s nervous as he stands at your door, fiddling with his thumbs that are wrapped tightly around the small bouquet of wildflowers he picked up at the farmer’s market a half-hour ago. He wasn’t sure what his plan was for today–just that he had to see you–and when he saw these flowers, he couldn’t not get them for you. Maybe it’s because of his growing feelings towards you over the past year, or the guilt that he can’t seem to shake, but he’s here to make things right with you–for good. 

You’re sitting on the couch avoiding real life by immersing yourself into the fictional world of The Nanny where cell phones and cowboys are essentially nonexistent when you hear the knock on the door. You’re surprised Fran’s voice didn’t drown out the sound, but you perk up anyway, turning your head to look out the obscured glass in the wooden door. You can’t make out much, just that they’re tall, and you assume it’s one of your brothers coming to ask you if you’re alright. You haven’t left the pool house in two weeks, and you only look at your phone when the alarm to take your birth control goes off at 5:55pm each day. 

You pad across the hardwood floor into the small entryway, and pull open the door slightly, revealing Rhett. He’s not smiling, but he is trembling like he’s nervous to be standing on your doorstep. You stand up a little straighter, hoping he can’t tell that you’ve been wearing the same oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts going on four days straight and haven’t washed your hair in the same amount of time. You take a step back, distancing yourself as much as you can while keeping the door slightly closed, not wanting him to see the complete mess you’ve made of your space.

“I’m busy, Rhett.” It feels like a knife to the chest when you say his name. He hasn’t heard it in a while, and you sound less than pleased to see him here at your door. He can’t blame you, though. The last time you saw him, he was cozying up to Maria at The Pit Bar and you were being berated by your fiance for dropping a glass and attracting the attention of the entire building. He assumes that’s why you’ve been holed up for weeks. He heard Katie and Jade talking about trying to get you to come out with them when he was at The Handsome Gambler yesterday. It makes him sick to think he could be the reason for it all. And he knows he is. The list of reasons for his unexpected visit keep growing the longer he thinks about it.

“We need to talk.” He’s not asking, and he’s not buying your lame excuse. Clearly, you’re not busy. You’re the only one home–period. Every truck is gone from the main driveway, and he saw your mom at the farmer’s market. On top of that, It’s not like you to distance yourself from everyone and everything. At least, he doesn’t think it is. He’s worried about more than one thing at the moment, and it would be a lot easier if you’d just relax and let him in. “I-I got you these.” He stutters slightly, holding out the small bouquet of flowers towards you like a peace offering.

You honestly didn’t even notice the multicolored bundle of flowers in his hands before this moment–you were too wound up from seeing him for the first time since that night. A shiver goes down your spine as you accept them, reluctantly dropping your hand from the door handle and retreating back into your house for a vase to keep them in. 

Rhett lets himself in behind you, noticing the state of your place. He’s never seen the pool house in such disarray. Mail that hasn’t been sorted through or opened is strewn across the entry table, shoes litter the hallway, and as he gets into the living area, he sees it’s not much better. There are glasses sitting on nearly every surface, along with a growing collection of empty wine bottles on the counter. Your favorite mindless TV show plays in the background, and a bundle of blankets and pillows are piled on the sofa. He stops in between the living room and the kitchen, watching you put water in a vase he made during a pottery class he took with Amy for her birthday six months ago. 

“Are you gonna talk, or what?” You ask, not bothering to look up from what you’re doing, placing the flowers in the vase, arranging them nicely as they sit in the middle of the counter.

“I’m sorry about Maria, but–” Your head snaps up and you make eye contact with him. He can see the tears already forming in your eyes, and he has to admit it’s a bit much for him. He’s never been good with negative emotions, especially when other people are the one experiencing them on account of him. “You’re engaged…I-I can’t keep stringin’ you along like this.” He wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans and keeps distance between the two of you. You’re just staring at him with those big, doe eyes. A single tear falls down your cheek, and admittedly, he wants to pull you into him and wipe it away and make it all better, but the two of you being together only causes chaos–no matter how right it may feel, it’s one-hundred percent wrong. 

You know his words are true, but you’ve been desperately trying to sweep your reality under the rug and live in this dream world you created when you started sleeping with him. It was all so innocent at first. He hadn’t really ever thought of you as someone he could be with, and you were living out a high school fantasy. It felt like playing pretend. You never imagined you’d actually fall for him, and you’re not sure how you’ll ever be able to stop. Now, he’s standing in front of you, admitting that he’s the one stringing you along–like he knows you have real feelings for him that he can’t reciprocate. Maybe it’s still just a fun, little game for him. Maybe his feelings haven’t changed since that first time. Maybe they never will. 

“You brought me flowers to tell me that?” You cross your arms over your chest as you stand on the other side of the counter. It hurts to hear him say what you probably should’ve known all along. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, but you never thought it would end like this. You thought you’d slowly stop wanting to see him after the thrill of what you were doing wore off, but that never happened. A hint of something you’d probably call ‘love’ lingers in the air when the two of you are together, but you’re not dumb enough to call it that. Not anymore, at least.

“I think you know how I feel about you, but it’s not fair for either of us. It’s not fair for Ben…or Maria.”

Your mouth opens to respond, but instead of allowing her name to spill out of your mouth angrily, you laugh dryly. Do you know how he feels about you? “You say that like you’re dating her.” 

And then he’s quiet, which confirms that your petty response is true. Whatever him and Maria had all those years ago must still be there. There are so many things you want to say to him right now. You want to remind him what she did in high school and that their entire relationship was built on that lie. You want to remind him that it didn’t work out the first time, and ask him what he thinks will be different this time, but you don’t. You can’t. He’s right about one thing. It wouldn’t be fair for you to criticize his relationship. You’re the one that’s supposed to be getting married. He doesn’t owe you anything. It’s a tough pill to swallow.

“I wanted you to hear it from me first, but I’m leaving.”  

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes, turning your head to look out the glass doors that lead to the pool. You can’t look at him any longer. He can feel the hurt from across the room, but he knows this is the right thing to do. You have to quit each other–this can’t keep happening. He’s doing this for you. You’re just way too stubborn to see that. 

“I’m going to Denver to ride. I just don’t think I can stay here any longer.” What he means is that he can’t stay here and watch you get married to that asshole, but he leaves that part out. He may not like Ben, but the guy is perfect for you. Your family loves him. Your friends are his friends. In all honesty, he can’t compete with that, and he’s not going to. He’s not the marrying type, and he knows that’s what you want–that’s what you’re getting. He’s done getting in the way of it. 

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s been a well known fact that Rhett Abbott has always wanted to leave Wabang, but it’s been almost a decade since you graduated high school, and he’s still here. You’re not sure he even has it in him to leave, but you nod your head in understanding, knowing that if you try to speak, more tears might come. It feels like you’ve only been crying because of him these days. Ben’s hurtful actions don’t even seem to phase you anymore, but it’s different coming from Rhett. It’s not even a bad feeling. It’s just genuine emotion. You’re not faking anything when it comes to him. The heartache is real. 

“I think it’s best we put this behind us. I want you to be happy, and I know you’re never gonna be happy with me.” The worst part is that Rhett Abbott truly believes every single word that just came out of his mouth. And you let him leave without correcting him as you watch him walk across the grass to his blue truck, hoping that by next week, he’ll take back everything he said to you today. 

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[twinklelilstarkey]

Late Night - Dad!Rhett Abbott

Words: 1k+ Type: Fluff Summary: Your daughter has some trouble sleeping, so you and Rhett tend to always wake up in the midst of the night with her. Warnings: GenderNeutral!Reader. No mentions of the daughter being biological or her name. Mentions of trouble sleeping, and kids.

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Ever since your daughter grew from a baby to a toddler, she has had some problems sleeping. You and Rhett have tried everything. From night lights to actually leaving the light on in her bedroom. And she still struggles.

Thankfully, it’s not every day, sometimes not even every week, but when it happens, it can take some time to make her fall back asleep. This means less sleep for all of you, and two worried parents trying to fit in a tiny bed to keep your daughter company. Not exactly comfortable, may you add.

Your daughter has always been a shy scaredy-cat kind of kid, and when you have a house as big as yours in the countryside, it gets really dark and some strange noises do make themselves heard. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Most of the time it's the wood of your furniture or floor cracking or, maybe even, one of the animals outside running loose. Whatever it is, it is always able to scare her.

Rhett has accepted his place as the parent that gets up and goes to her when she calls for the two of you. He hates having you get up so late at night, so he prefers to be the one to calm her down and let you have your night of sleep in peace. Sometimes, he’s so efficient that you don’t even hear him get up or your daughter calling out.

This time, though, it’s different. Your daughter did not stay in bed or called out to you. She got herself up from the small bed with her stuffed animal in her hand and dragged it through the floor as she crossed the scary long, dark hallway by herself.

That is because tonight, she wasn’t scared because she heard a noise or had a nightmare. She simply couldn’t sleep.

She fell asleep for maybe 10 minutes when you and Rhett tucked her in, but she woke up by herself right after. She tried to do it by herself and go back to sleep, as she does when she’s very tired, but it didn’t work. She avoided calling out to either of you for too long, and, now, she has had enough.

You and Rhett are sound asleep. He’s sleeping on his back, and you on your side. You have your back to him, and his arm is right under your pillow as your hands stay on top of one another.

When your daughter pushes your door wide open, neither of you moves.

She walks over to the bed and casually throws her stuffed toy onto it, achieving at making the bull lay just by your legs. And the feeling of it hitting your leg wakes you up from your slumber.

You tiredly open your eyes and look around confused. You have no idea what woke you up. You tried to look back at Rhett to see if he had said or done anything since you thought to not have been asleep for long, but you only find him laying on his back and asleep.

As you sit up confused, you notice your daughter’s favorite stuffed animal just beside your legs. You pick it up and, out of the corner of your eye, you see two little hands reach up to your bed and tiny fingers gripping onto the mattress.

It was truly terrifying to see them at first glance, but you slowly reminded yourself that you have a daughter.

You look over to see the toddler struggling to pull herself up to your bed. You watch her in silence, slightly impressed with her strength as she is able to lift herself up somehow. But you don’t watch for too long as whenever she begins to struggle a little too much, you don’t let her fall and actually pull her up to you.

She sits down beside you, letting out a little breath of surprise, and, through the darkness, her sleep-heavy eyes look for your face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her in a whisper.

“Can’t sleep.” She tells you with her small voice, unable to whisper as low.

You watch her for a little bit as you grab her plushy and give it back to her. Her reaction is to crawl closer to you and lay back down. You do the same and let her snuggle as you lean back against your pillow.

You’re not planning on taking her back to bed, even though you know, deep down, that you should. But, just look at her. You simply can't resist the way her tiny self is beginning to lay her head on your shoulder while hugging her plushy's neck close to her chest.

Rhett moves slightly beside you and turns to lay on his side. That grabs the attention of your daughter as she looks at him with her big doe eyes. She expects him to be awake, continuously looking at him as if waiting for something to happen, and then she feels you lay a kiss on her forehead.

“We need to sleep.” You whisper at her.

She nods with her cheek flush against you, agreeing, and you wrap your arm around her securely, holding her close to you. The arm that she has around her stuffed animal lifts and lays across your chest, carefully holding you as well.

You close your eyes while cuddling her and begin to move your hand across her back comfortingly.

At that moment, Rhett opens his eyes, awakened from his sleep by the simple noise of your whisper, and his eyes focus on the dark room first. He searches for what could've woken him up but his gaze soon falls on you.

Rhett watches as you fall back asleep, your chest moving up and down in soft breaths, all while you have your daughter laying just beside you. Her eyes are closed as well, but Rhett can tell that she isn’t asleep. Her eyes open not even a second later, and their gazes meet.

A little smile forms on both of their faces, and her little hand lifts from your chest. Rhett watches as she carefully outstretches her arm towards him, wanting to hold his hand before going to sleep - as she tends to do.

Rhett smiles at the small girl and holds her little hand with only two of his fingers. She lays her head over your shoulder again and closes her eyes, more than happy with what she accomplished by coming to your room. 

Rhett also lays his head back down and watches as the sight continuously makes his heart grow full.

Time passes, and he doesn’t know for how long he watches the two of you. His heart tenders at the thought of waking up tomorrow just to lay his eyes on this view all over again and, just like that, he falls back asleep.

Yes, I actually had a tiny imagine to post deep in my drafts. Feedback is very appreciated on my blog :)

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