#rhett abbott
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Oooo maybe Rhett teaching you how to ride a horse? And he gets frisky? Anything you write will be amazing!!! :)
yes!!!! thank you love!!
rhett teaches you how to ride a horse properly
warnings: soft!rhett, smooching, so much fluff, drinking, yearning
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you had only been living in wabang for about a year when you met rhett abbott.
a lonesome day had led you to your first lonesome night at the handsome gambler. work was shit. your apartment was shit. you hadn’t made a single friend in the whole year due to the fact that the whole town seemed to be a bit wary of new arrivals. but, thankfully a certain cowboy was intrigued by what others deemed a little different.
“ya’ alright?” you felt that unwavering presence of his before the words slipped out of his mouth. the barstool next to you shifting under his weight and your surroundings being suddenly filled by the scent of leather.
“hm?” you were a bit drunk. nearly more than a bit, choosing to sip on the beer in front of you instead of shooting back another whiskey. his eyes crinkled when he allowed himself to chuckle at your tipsy state.
“i said are ya’ alright?” he crossed his arms on top of the bar-top, “couldn’t miss the way you’ve just been starin’ a hole into that neon sign for the past thirty minutes.”
he didn’t mean to notice you, not at all. he also couldn’t help the way his eyes were being consistently drawn to the pretty girl he’d never seen before sat at the bar with an awful frown on her face. he figured you were from out of town, just visiting for the night. maybe expecting a shitty date that would never show up because not even he trusted half the men in wabang.
“oh, yeah sorry— um just a rough day, didn’t mean to cause any worry.” he took in the way your eyes scrunched close as you answered his question, as if you were reliving some horrible memory that he should feel bad for bringing up.
“so ya’ drove to the middle of nowhere wabang to get wasted?” his brow quirked at the confusion on your face. you were something, not being able to control your facial expressions with the amount of liquor in your system currently. undeniably cute.
“no! i mean just from my apartment..” for a moment you both looked at each other quizzically, him putting the pieces together before you could figure out that he didn’t know you were now a resident in his home town.
“ya’ tellin me you live here? never seen or heard of you before.” he tilted his head some, the slight movement filtering his words better for you to hear.
“have for about a year now, not much to see or hear i reckon.” you took another slow sip from the bottle in front of you. you let him ask you where you’re from after that, then for your name. the name he gives you in return is one you immediately recognize.
“ah, so you’re that bull rider they keep interrupting my hank williams channel to talk about?” the connection brings a smile on your face, it’d be a lie to say that you didn’t turn up the radio when you heard his name with a tinge of intrigue in your emotion.
“fraid’ so,” he laughs into his own beer bottle. “sorry about that, ma’am.” he’s everything you expected him to be. cool and collected as he speaks to you with such air that the people around you must think that you’re life long friends.
“i’ve always wanted to do something cool like that actually, used to beg my mom to put me in horse riding lessons.” you aren’t too sure what drawls the confession out of you. the alcohol or the pretty smile resting on rhett’s lips as he looks at you kinder than anyone had for the last year.
“ya’ still interested?” for a second you are not entirely sure what he’s asking, you have to pause for a moment.
“i mean— pshh.” you blush under his thoughtful gaze. “might be a bit too late for my cowgirl days to start now.” you look down at your cardigan and platform boots, the only thing wabang about you might be the wranglers form fitting to your legs.
“nah, don’t think so,” he narrows his now mischief glimmered eyes at you. “why don’t ya’ come to the ranch sometime. i’ll teach ya’ how to be a cowgirl.”
you think he’s fucking with you, he has to be. you hadn’t made a single friend in the town and all of the sudden cowboy casanova is offering you tutoring lessons with the sweetest look on his face.
“where’s this ranch of yours?” it seems that his tense shoulders relax some at your words, he pulls out a pen from his breast pocket and writes something on the back of a tab receipt that you hadn’t noticed him receiving.
he even drives you home. guiding you to his truck with an appropriate, but burning hand on your back. opening your door and giving you a hand to help you in. he stifles laughter as you drunkenly give him directions to your place. finally, he walks you to your apartment door despite your insistence that its unnecessary.
that’s how you make your first friend in wabang. that’s also how you end up at the abbott ranch on a well-tempered friday morning.
you had called the number scrawled onto the back of the receipt alongside the unfamiliar address after you gathered your bearings of that night. the deep voice on the other line had you deeply blushing, how on earth you had not managed to buckle under the intense stare you recall is a mystery to you. the meeting time and date was set and the call was ended with a ‘see you then, might want to buy some better boots.’
you did end up taking his advice on the boots. brown leather now cladding your feet up to your shins, making them near unbearable to wear at first try. at least the dragonfly design was cute.
he was already on the front porch waiting for you when you arrived in your little hatchback car. he knew it was you immediately because no girl, even person drove anything but a pick up in wabang. it made you all that more endearing to him. he found himself making his way down the steps to open your car door for you before you could even place it in park.
“fancy seeing ya’ here, cowgirl.” he offered his hand to you to distract you from how his eyes were flitting down your figure. you were gonna kill him. his obituary would surely read, ‘heart attack induced by city girl wearing cowboy boots and flared jeans.’ no one would think to mention that the white tank you had on underneath your brown cardigan was the final straw for him.
“hm, you are rick talbott, right?” you joke through a smirk, not expecting him to have to clutch his chest at how funny he found it. you were thankful that it gave you a moment to admire him in the daylight. scruff and sharp lines that you weren’t able to see under the dim bar lights.
“close enough.” his laughter died off and left you two in a moment of comfortable silence as he shut your car door and led the way with a nudge of his head. he still had the dark denim on that you recognized from the bar, but his button up was replaced by a form fitting long sleeve white tee. what a sight. he even replaced his stetson with a navy blue ball cap.
“now, m’ gonna take it easy on ya’ today, but give it a week and you’ll be barreling like a pro.” you watched his hands as they undid the lock of the barn door, opening them to what you could only imagine was your childhood dream.
four horses, bells of hay, just born calves. the smile on your face was irreplaceable. he turned to you at your silence, wishing he hadn’t when the wind was nearly knocked out of him at the sight of your beaming face.
“everything you ever hoped for?” he smirked with his large hands on his hips, damn him for teasing you when he looked so good.
“so much more.” you sighed, taking in your surroundings. he didn’t miss the way your eyes softened when they landed on their newest baby calf lucy, he’d have to remind himself to let you bottle feed her.
“that’s probably jus’ the smell of horse shit making ya’ all delusional. the wonder will pass when ya’ step in it.” he spoke as he reached forward to place a soft grip on your bicep, leading you further into the barn with the soft fabric of your thin cardigan warming around his hand. he liked the way you laughed for him at his poor attempt at a joke. he wasn’t much for whimsy and humor, but you sure did already know how to pull it out of him.
“oh, they’re beautiful!” you exclaimed when you finally got close enough to the horse stalls, a hand resting on your heart. so in awe that you almost disregarded the strong one still on your bicep. it was disappointingly removed when he noticed your soft eyes on it.
“i’m sure they appreciate that,” he was so soft with you it had him wondering who the hell he even was. he sure didn’t feel like a bull rider in that moment, and he definitely didn’t feel like the town slut everyone made him out to be.
“which one is yours?” he took you down two stalls further. giving himself a moment to run his hand down the tall black horse’s nose.
“ this ‘s doc.” he turned to you, silently reaching over to grab your hand and bring it to where his was on the horse seconds before. he let you pet doc at your own accord. “we’re gonna take him today, only one i trust with ya’.”
you aren’t entirely sure of what he means by that, but it has your heart fluttering nonetheless.
“big tombstone fan?” you gave the horse a few final pats before turning back to the man beside you with a smirk on your face.
“who isn’t?” he shrugged and stifled a huge smile at your uttered ‘fair.’
one thing for certain. if you had known that your first ‘lesson’ was going to be spent with both of you on the same horse, you would’ve worn a much thicker cardigan.
the kindness, deep voice, and eerily soft hands were enough to have you in a downward spiral. but, the warmth of rhett’s chest pressed to your back as he’s reached around you to guide doc out into the pasture has you standing firm in the fact that you now have a horrible crush on the cowboy.
“sorry ‘bout the close quarters, but seeing as you’ve never ridden before, think it’s for the best.” his voice was all too close to your ears for it to not send a shiver down your spine despite the glaring heat of the mid-day sun.
“s’fine, thought you would smell a little worse than you do.” the lighthearted joke was fleeing your lips before you could correct your city-like rudeness. he took no hurt in it, finding it quite funny as he let his head roll onto your shoulder in laughter, the brim of his hat peaking out over your left. no, he definitely wasn’t doing anything to dim the crush.
“i’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart.” he didn’t miss how your breath hitched over the gallop of the horse. he was a little too content to know that he had the same affect on you as you did him.
when he deemed you two far enough out, he gently placed the reins in your hands.
“alright, i’ll let you take the reins now,” he waited for you to laugh at the pun before he continued, “you’re gonna want to sit up a little straighter, good. make sure your feet stay in the stirrups. relax a little..”
you weren’t sure how you were supposed to relax with his large hands placed firmly on your hips, but you did your best, earning yourself a sweet praise.
“as much as ya’ have to trust doc here, he has to trust ya’ just as much. take it easy at first, i’ll set him into a trot n’ if you feel ya’ wanna go any faster just give him a solid nudge with your foot.” he did exactly that, giving you enough time to feel out the reins in your hands and the slight pull of doc’s tall stature through the field.
it was light work. the handsome man leaning into your back was only a slight hindrance. it got a little hard to focus every now and then with him breathing down your neck, but you managed.
time passed with you guiding doc through the gorgeous acres of land that you still couldn’t believe were home to rhett’s front yard. you’d egg the horse on into a faster pace every now and then, relishing in the sickeningly sweet ‘there ya’ goes’ spoken into your ear. at some point you grew bored of the slow trot. you found your head turned slightly back at rhett, silently jumping out of your skin when you found his eyes hard set on you. a gulp could be heard.
“would it be okay if i went faster?” you weren’t sure of doc’s capabilities, but if he had enough in him to haul around a bull rider, he should be in well enough shape. rhett’s lips upturned into a smirk.
“go ahead, doll,” he nodded at you reassuringly, hands loosely at his sides, not quite prepared for just how fast you were willing to go. “woah— jesus, cowgirl!”
with two sturdy taps into doc’s right side he had immediately switched gears, all but launching rhett into your back. he had to steady himself on your hips with a tight grip. you swore his surprised laugh could’ve been heard from a satellite.
your hair was blowing back into rhett’s minimal space, he didn’t find himself minding the smell of your shampoo. he also didn’t find himself with a negative emotion in his soul. not a single one could be found when he had the sweetest girl he had ever met right in front of him, on his horse. said girl controlling doc perfectly at a gallop only rhett can handle him at. he figured he’d be safer with his hands glued to your hips, no other reason. definitely not because he couldn’t get enough of your body in his grasps.
the laugh coming from you was so genuine that you didn’t even recognize it. you hadn’t laughed from pure joy like this in years, it felt.
once you had your fun you pulled the reins firmer, hauling doc back to a slow trot, and eventually a full stop when you met the middle of the pasture. mountains encasing a moment only dreams recognize. with a heavy breath out, you shook your head in disbelief.
“wow, i could get used to that.” you still had a soft laugh in your voice, and rhett found he still did as well. for a moment, you allowed yourself to take in the all encompassing beauty that you had missed when gliding through the field. “i think that’s the most fun i’ve had in a good while.”
“me too.” his soft confession had you peeking your head back at him, the discomfort of your neck melted by the cowboy blue in his eyes. his breath heavier. “‘didn’t ever tell you how pretty you are at the bar the other night.”
“i’m glad, don’t think drunk me could’ve withheld kissing you. oh—” your cheeks flooded with heat, not preparing you for the deep silence to follow. your ears started ringing. why the hell did you just say that?
“oh.” his voice deep with the short phrase, his own cheeks blushing a deep shade and aching at the smile forming on his lips. it’s hard not to stare at them. his right hand that he forgot to take off of your hip is raising towards your waist.
“well, what is sober you thinkin’?” he asks with a hum, leaning in before either of you realizes. he has to balance his weight slightly more to the left for him to be able to see your face fully.
“that even now, i’d still kiss you.” you say it before thinking, there’s no reason to take it back. the evidence that he wants it just as badly as you do is written on his face. in a quick movement his reaching for the hat on his head, pulling it off of his slightly curly mused hair, just so it doesn’t interfere when the time is right. he places the right hand that is now holding the hat in a firm grip on the back of your head gently.
“nothing stopping ya’ cowgirl, i sure ain’t.” and with those final words, all you have to do is lean towards him maybe an inch to place your soft lips to his. and you do just that. his hand flexes around both the hat and the back of your head, pushing you into him more.
the kiss is gentle, but it hints at so much more. you can feel his smile without having to see it. he has to stifle it from its full extent just so he can keep kissing you. with a slight tilt of his head he has you sighing into his open mouth, giving him more reason to trace your bottom lip with his tongue. the motion has a barely audible whimper escaping you, but he hears it all too well.
“gonna kill me, sweetheart.” he pulls back too soon for your liking, resting his forehead on the top of yours. his chest heaves with desire and your breaths thread into his.
“i hope not, would have to find another hot cowboy to give me free riding lessons.” you giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to his chin. “and i don’t think they would be able to make me feel like this.”
“wouldn’t want that, would we?” his stare is intense, but only gentle. it holds a promise.
in that moment he forgets everything and everyone else in the world. every duty, every dumb hook up. all he knows in that moment is you.
#rhett abbott#send a letter#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott fluff#rhett abbott smut#outer range#outer range fanfiction#lewis pullman#bob floyd#top gun#fluff#fan fic#blurb
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PEGGING RHETT PEGGING THAT BOY (shush you have no idea who this is you don't know me and we definitely haven't talked about this)
TOTALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHO THIS IS?? WHAAAAT? This man FUCKS and we both know it.
Ride a Cowboy
Warnings: This is pure filth. Absolute total porn with 0 plot. Please don't read if you're under 18 or if this shit grosses you out.
After seeing Rhett riding his bull, you want to show him just how proud you are of him...
You always got a little hot under the collar when you watched Rhett ride. The Stetson on his head, the way his biceps tensed in that tight shirt and he clung onto the bull. He’d just completed another successful ride and you were the first person he looked for in the crowd. You ran down to him, practically colliding with him as he wrapped his arms around you and placed his Stetson on your head. You knew what that meant. Knew that he was always in the mood after a good ride and knew that that night was going to be spent in each other's arms. Little did he know that you had something planned for him to show exactly how proud you were of him for that ride.
Later that night, Rhett found himself naked beneath the sheets with you straddling him. Your hands roamed over the muscles of his chest, softly tracing the lines of his bull rider tattoo.
“Gonna show you just how proud I am of you baby,” you whispered.
That elicited a moan from his lips, his cock twitching in anticipation, “fuck, yes,” he breathed, completely and utterly surrendering to you. You leaned in closer, biting his ear before whispering, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the reason you’re all worked up.” Your hand trails lower, beneath the sheets teasing his entrance. “So beautiful for me baby,” you murmur, causing Rhett to let out a moan.
With slow and deliberate movements, your fingers worked him open. You let out a smile as you feel him pushing back against you, desperate for more, “please…”
“That’s it baby,” you encourage, “take what you need. Tonight is all about you.”
Finally you knew you’d worked him up enough and you positioned yourself to tease his hole with the tip of the strap on. With a gentle thrust, you entered him, your eyes locked on his as he squeezed them shut and let out a low groan you could feel rumbling deep within his chest.
“Fuck…” he let out at the pressure and fullness of you inside him.
You started to rock gently back and forth, slowly building up to a quicker pace as your hips snapped against his. You fucked him good and hard, getting pleasure from his moans and how gorgeous he looked sweaty and worked up beneath you.
“You like that baby?” you teased, knowing he was close by the way his rock hard cock slapped against his stomach with each thrust from you. “So pretty. Such a good boy taking my cock like this.”
You altered the angle slightly, reaching for that sweet spot inside him. You knew you’d found it when he let out a cry of pleasure, “fuck, there! Right there. Don’t stop,” he begged. His voice cracked as he let out more expletives, completely undone.
You knew a few more thrusts and he’d be done. You grab his cock, your hands stroking him in time with your thrusts as you utter the words he’s been waiting for, “come for me, baby.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he came harder than he’d done in a long time, letting out a hoarse cry as he split all over himself. His body shook uncontrollably beneath you and his ass clenched around your strap on.
Your thrusts slowed as you gently pulled out, earning a whimper from him and discarded the strap on, feeling your own needs. You lean in and capture his mouth with your own. Rhett, ever attuned to your needs flipped you over in one easy move and was between your legs before you could catch your breath. “My turn…”
With practiced skill and driven by his own arousal, he licked and sucked at your sensitive clit, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you closer to his lips. You let out a cry of your own as his tongue skilfully glided over your sensitive area. It didn’t take long before you were chasing your own orgasm.
You fell back against the pillow, glistening with sweat as Rhett joined you. It was gross and sticky and you knew you both needed a shower but for now you were content to catch your breath and have Rhett hold you against him, whispering how much he loved you into your hair.
#rhett abbott#outer range#lewis pullman#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott fanfic#rhett abbott fanfiction#outer range fanfic#outer range fanfiction
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"So you want me to pay you to have a conversation?"
"No. I want you to pay me to be a god son."
#outer range#outer range s2#outer range s2 spoilers#dr. nia bintu#rhett abbott#yrsa daley-ward#lewis pullman#the way she slid right into the seat next to him and the way he looked at her???#and her face after they agreed on the deal???#idk if i necessarily ship it but there is tension and flirtatiousness going on there... what an interesting set-up/dynamic#why is rhett abbott around gorgeous women??? what gives???#would the throuple ship name be marniarhett? /j
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Lewis Pullman looks good to me in Outer Range. What is happening to me? 😩
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Waiting For The Sun
Chapter Two
Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better.
But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.
Soulmate AU
a/n: timeline might be out of canon order but fuck it
Series Masterlist
Fifteen year old Rhett Abbott hated Shakespeare. He sat in his room, his usually messy room, and attempted to write this essay. But his handwriting was chicken scratch and his soulmate wasn't responding to him.
He swore, if she'd gone to bed...
Well, Rhett couldn't blame her. It had gone midnight and, after near a year of being in each others heads, he knew her routine. But he also knew how much she loved Shakespeare.
Come on, wake up, he thought. But, if he woke her up, he never would have forgiven himself.
Without her there to keep him company while he struggled through his homework, Rhett gave up. He capped his pen, dropped it onto his paper, and stood from his desk. That was a problem for Tomorrow Rhett to deal with, even if the thought of getting detention terrified him. Well, not getting detention, but he knew his mom would never let him go to the rodeo if he got detention.
Are you okay?
He hadn't expected her voice in his head. What're you doing awake? Rhett asked his soulmate as he crawled beneath his bedsheets. They needed changing, he knew, but he was a gross teenaged boy. They always needed changing.
There was a pause before she responded, so long that Rhett thought she had gone back to sleep. Are you okay? She asked again. Even in his head, she sounded so damn tired. Guilt hit Rhett at all angles, but he couldn't deny how warm hearing her voice made him feel.
I'm okay, he answered, and her sigh filled his head. It wasn't of annoyance, though. No, she was relieved. Just doin' homework.
Do you need help with it? She asked, voice sweet in his head.
That was the thing about his soulmate. Ever since her voice had entered his head a year ago, she'd been so damn sweet. She'd helped him with so much homework over the past year. Now, Rhett wasn't stupid, but working on the ranch and training with his dad to be a future bull riding champion took up most of his time.
Tomorrow, if you can, he replied. Get some sleep, darlin'.
That woke her up slightly. The first time her soulmate had ever given her some sort of nickname. Riddled with exhaustion, Rhett didn't even noticed that the nickname had slipped. She didn't mind, though, not in the slightest.
Somehow, Rhett knew she hadn't yet gone back to sleep. Something in him could just feel that she was still awake. What were you dreamin' about? He asked, hands behind his head as he stared up at the popcorn ceiling. On the few instances that they spoke late into the night, Rhett stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine what she looked like. The sound of her voice gave him no indicators, but it didn't stop him from trying.
I dreamt that the sky opened up and the stars were raining down on us, she said in his head.
Rhett could see it, laying in the south pasture with a faceless girl as vibrant stairs began shooting across the sky, falling down around them and illuminating the Abbott Ranch. Sounds beautiful, he said to her, a yawn leaving his lips.
'm getting tired. In his head, her voice came out as groggy, and Rhett let the scene in his head change. A faceless girl, struggling to stay awake as she spoke to him.
Sleep, Rhett said to her.
Are you gonna sleep, too? She asked and Rhett gave a hum. Before you go, what's your homework? I can think about it while I'm waiting for you to wake up.
Rhett told her. Not long after that, the two of them were asleep. Rhett couldn't help but dream of himself as a young Leonardo DiCaprio in the nineties, falling for a faceless girl he couldn't have, a facless girl that kissed the poison from his lips and took a knife to his own chest before collapsing on top of him.
***
Twenty four year old Rhett woke up to the smell of bacon filling his nose. He opened his eyes and shut them immediately. Trust him to be too drunk to close his curtains. Mornin' Muffin, he said in his mind, praying he didn't sound too much like he was hanging out of his ass.
Her melodic giggle filled his mind. Almost immediately his day brightened up and he pushed himself out of bed. Well, good morning, she said to him. How does that head feel?
Suddenly, dread filled him. He had gotten pretty good at playing sober on the instances that she was still awake while he was out drinking. But, not last night, apparently. Ah, fuck. What did I say?
You were trying to tell me things about yourself and then getting frustrated when it working work. Even in his head, he could hear the amusement in her voice. You're cute when you're drunk and frustrated.
He groaned, audibly, as he walked out of his bedroom. How do you put up with me? He asked, somewhat rhetorically, as he wandered into the kitchen and greeted his family.
Believe it or not, you were made for me, bucko, she replied as he stole the bacon from Amy's plate. She complained, but Rhett didn't hear it as he took his own plate from his mother and sat down at the table.
Me? Made for you? How do you know you weren't made for me?
She laughed as his family found out just how hungover he was. But with that laugh filling his head, all was right in the world.
She was there through the morning as Rhett worked. She kept him company as he fed the cattle and tacked up for the morning. All the while she was making bread or reading a book. When the Tillerson boys showed up at the fence that separated them from the Abbott's, she was quiet, let him do what he needed to do. But, the moment he was grumbling, her soothing voice filled his head, calming him down.
I'm riding tonight, he said as he untacked his horse for the night. He brushed over her back, brushing away any loose and uncomfortable hairs.
Oh.
It was no secret to Rhett how much his bull riding worried her. For the first two years of his career to had listened as he fell off and hurt himself. It had taken Rhett those two years to learn how to quiet his mind when he was riding, for the soul purpose of not making her panic.
Tell me where you place, she said to him.
Of course, Muffin, he replied and headed back to the house for dinner.
Rhett loved it when his family watched him ride, of course he did. But he always felt like something was missing. He knew exactly what was missing, and couldn't wait for the day she was sitting there, between his mom and Perry. He'd ride better with her watching, he knew.
I'm going out with my friends tonight, she told him as he waited for his turn to ride.
Rhett couldn't help but grin to himself. She always had fun when she went out, always got drunk rather quickly. Every time she would ramble about their future together and he didn't mind that one bit.
Gonna celebrate my win?
You know it, cowboy.
Those were the words that played in his head as he sat on Twister. Fucking Twister. Everybody knew that the bull hadn't ridden well in weeks. But Rhett tried. With all of his might, he tried. But that bull tossed him around like a ragdoll, until he was pushing himself up from the sand and picking up his hat.
Muffin, you there? He asked as he walked over to the fence, footsteps sluggish.
Rhett waited a moment before she answered him. Yeah, I'm here. How did it go?
Rhett could have lied, could have told her everything was hunky dory, that he'd placed well and made it through to the next round. But she always seemed to know when he was lying to her. Maybe he sounded different when he lied. No matter what it was, she knew.
He sucked in a breath. I didn't place.
Oh, baby. He couldn't help but grimace at the sympathy. Bad bull?
He breathed through his nose as his father approached the fence. Maybe, he answered. I don't know Muffin. I just... But, as his dad started speaking, the words died in his mind.
When his dad and the rest of his family stepped back from the fence, gave him some space, his eyes met those of Maria Olivares.
Maria Olivares. There was a time that Rhett thought Maria was his soulmate. He was sixteen and connected the dots in his head to make it so. It didn't matter that the pieces didn't entirely fit or that she didn't look his way. Sixteen year old Rhett made it work.
But seeing her now, something inside of him sparked to life. He raised his hand towards her slightly. She was his Muffin, even if she didn't realise it. Maria smiled back and his heart seemingly skipped a beat.
It didn't much help that his Muffin had disappeared. But he'd seen that Maria was busy, and it made sense in his mind. She turned away from him and Rhett climbed out of the ring. Fuck, he needed a drink after that ride. Have fun, Muffin, he said as he climbed into his truck and began driving home.
It was a sucky night for Rhett. He didn't make it through and his girl was too busy to talk to him. He'd never fault her for it, though. She was having fun, and that was all that mattered.
Perry was having a night as shitty as his own. After Joy had stopped by earlier with the news about the FBI dropping Rebecca's case, he'd been in an understandably sour mood. That was why Rhett invited him out to the Pit Bar. That was how he found himself slamming back tequila shots in the Pit Bar with Perry.
Drunk Rhett was a rambler. He'd been drunk enough to now and Perry had seen him drunk often enough to know it, too. The topic of Rhett's drunken ramblings were almost always his bull riding career and his soulmate. Now, sober Rhett would never speak to Perry about his soulmate, not after Perry had gone ahead and married a woman that wasn't his soulmate.
But drunk Rhett couldn't help himself as he told Perry all about the last ten years with her. And then Maria Olivares walked into the Pit Bar.
She was out with her friends and his Muffin was out with her friends. It made so much sense to Rhett that this woman was his soulmate, but then why was she hanging onto Trevor Tillerson?
Perry saw the way Rhett looked at Maria. "You've been convinced this girl is your soulmate since you were sixteen years old," he said. "Go speak to her," he insisted.
When she approached the bar, Rhett did. But there so no opportunity to speak to her that time. The next time, their conversation was shirt, but that conversation was enough to reaffirm it to Rhett that Maria really was his soulmate. But then she went back to Trevor, and Perry joined him at the bar.
Drunk Rhett said whatever he wanted. Drunk Rhett made his big brother cry. He knew he shouldn't have said it the second the words left his lips. "I'm sorry, man," he said as he caught Maria's eye. "Go on, go get some air."
You look really pretty tonight, he said to no response. Maria still looked at him, though. And, with no Trevor Tillerson holding his arm around her shoulders, Maria joined him.
"Hey," she said to him for the second time that night.
Rhett tapped his fingers against the green neck of his beer bottle. "Hey," he repeated, but then that single word was slurred. There was so much he wanted to say, stuff about how she couldn't swear until she was fourteen or that, at sixteen, he had to teach her what a handjob was. All things Rhett had been through with his soulmate.
But enough doubt lingered in the back of his mind that he said nothing. What if Maria wasn't his soulmate and he blurted all of that out? They were memories between him, his soulmate, and nobody else.
Maria led the conversation, but Rhett didn't much mind. He sipped his beer and listened, his usual polite but somewhat shy smile playing on his lips. For a split second he turned to the door, tried to catch a glimpse of Perry through glass pane.
"Ah shit," he said as he stood. Maria said nothing. Certainly didn't scold him for his language as he headed outside. But Rhett wasn't thinking about that. As soon as he stepped into the cool night air, he was pushing Trevor Tillerson away from his brother.
He didn't know that Maria was watching the scuffle, didn't know she was there when Rhett put Trevor on the ground. Not without coming away with his own scrapes and bruises, of course. His hand fucking killed from where it had connected with Trevor's face.
As soon as Trevor was on the ground, Rhett turned back to the bar, back towards Maria. "That guy is the biggest asshole you're ever gonna meet," he said and headed back inside.
Muffin? He tried, but there was no response. Either she'd heard everything he'd been thinking through the fight and was disgusted, or she'd fallen asleep hours ago. But she wasn't Maria, Rhett knew that much.
He didn't know what happened between Perry and Trevor while he was pulling the truck around. But Rhett didn't need to know as he helped Perry load the body of Trevor Tillerson into his truck. Perry had fucking killed someone, and his finger prints were now on the body.
Fuck.
But he knew for a fact that he'd never been this panicked before. This was the kind of panic that would have her waking up to check on him, if she was even asleep. The breaths Rhett took in were deep and calming. He kept his emotions in check as he drove himself, Perry, and the body back to the Abbott ranch.
Fuck, he hoped his Muffin was sleeping.
Rhett Taglist: @finnydraws
@writtingrose
@nurse-sainz
@xoxabs88xox
@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff
Series Taglist: @nessjo
@butterflykale1doscope
@eternallyvenus
#rhett abbott#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott fluff#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott fic#rhett abbott fanfiction#outer range#outer range imagine#outer range x reader#outer range fic#lewis pullman#lewis pullman imagine#lewis pullman x reader#rhett abbott oneshot
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it's all fun and games until the cowboy is scared of a little kitty cat
[OUTER RANGE SEASON TWO ✵ EPISODE ONE]
#a whole grown man and allergic to cats .... cowboy up perhaps#the guy willingly makes the choice to get bucked off 1500lb+ bulls but THIS is where we draw the line......... i love his freak ass so bad#finally started season 2 like why did they give lewis this goofy ass scene and decide . ya that's enough from you!#had a severe lack of screentime / a few cats / and a dream#rhett abbott#outer range#lewis pullman
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i've never been more gagged in my entire fucking life
#lewis pullman#< pls dont go in that tag lew#lewis pullman gifs#rhett abbott#ITS SO FUCKING SICKENING#HOW#WHY#WHEN#IM NEVER#LIKE WHOOOO DOES THIS CLOWN ASS FUCKER THINK HE IS?!#BACKWARDS CAP!??!? LEWIS JAMES!!!!#i'll never recover#never be the same#the flex the greying beard the wink the smiles the FGUCKLKDLKLD#lp*#my gifs
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baby, if you only knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
summary: tensions boil over and everything changes for you and rhett one night at a rancher’s event you attend.
w/c: 5.4k (she’s a mammoth)
warnings: 18+ only. smut. age gap (babysitter 20s, rhett 40s). dirty talk. making out in an elevator. daddy kink. possessive rhett. slightly rough sex. cunnilingus. hair pulling. overstimulation. size kink. aftercare. rhett’s grey hair. some fluff.
a/n: i can see you by taylor swift is to blame for this. enjoy the filth! also couldn’t stop myself from adding some babysitter lore. also see green, green dress from tick, tick…boom! for the dress reference!
Six months. Six long, tortuous months of working under Rhett Abbott’s roof.
Okay, it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be in your head. His daughters were angels, and you appreciated that he worked with your school schedule as you attended your graduate program. And he let you live in his guest room rent free.
But it was sweet torture. You had fallen hard for the single father of two and it made every day even harder than the last. Rhett was a wonderful man, an attentive father, and a hell of a cook. A hard worker and he was so handsome, you could hardly breathe around him. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the cowboy?
You tried everything in the world to rid your thoughts of him, but you were highly unsuccessful. And he only did things that made it worse. Every time you brushed by him in the halls it felt like electricity coursed through your entire body. He had to feel it too, right?
Delusional. That’s what you were. You were the babysitter. Nothing more. Eventually, the girls would grow up and you wouldn’t be needed anymore. And that thought caused your chest to tighten painfully.
What a thought to have while washing the dishes. You heard your name but it sounded far off, like your ears were full of cotton.
“Tilly, come quick!” Grace shouted once more to get your attention. It made you turn abruptly, soap suds went flying as you dropped the ceramic pot you were washing. “Sorry,” she mumbled when you glared slightly at her.
“What’s wrong, Gracie?” you questioned as you wiped your hands off with the flower embroidered kitchen towel. Something you bought and put out to leave your own touch on this place.
“Oh. Nothing. Ellie just wanted to show you that we won our game.” The girls had been obsessed with Super Mario Brothers and had been playing it for days.
“That’s great guys! How about we take a break and you help me get dinner started?”
“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” Ellie, Rhett’s younger daughter pouted, bright blue eyes pleading. She and Grace were the carbon copies of Rhett. Same eyes, same nose, same crooked smile. You could never say no to them.
“Of course. But don’t tell your dad,” you whispered, placing your finger to your lips like it was a top secret.
The girls helped you finish the food just as Rhett came in from another long day of herding and branding cattle. He was dusty, covered in dirt and sweat and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead, the ends curling up. You wanted to run your fingers through it, sweat be damned.
“Daddy!” “Daddy, look at what we made!”
The girls ran towards Rhett, pausing when they got close enough to smell him.
“You stink,” Grace commented flatly.
“Thanks. Love you too. Listen, I’m gonna go shower and I’ll be down in a bit. You all can start without me,” Rhett said as he kicked his boots off by the door and took the stairs two at a time. “Oh, and Tilly?” He called from the upstairs landing.
“Yeah?”
“I gotta ask you something later. Don’t let me forget.”
You just nodded, stomach turning at the thought of what it could be.
Grace and Ellie helped you set the table, always eager to follow your every move. It makes you smile. Sometimes you felt like an actual family. And then you had to bring yourself back to reality. Just the nanny. Nothing more. Dinner was quiet, everyone was hungry and occupied with getting their bellies full.
You were resting on the couch as Rhett finished bath and bed time with the girls, trying to read your latest book but your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Your heart started to beat faster as you heard Rhett descend down the stairs.
Rhett took himself to the kitchen, busying himself by pouring a glass of whiskey. A bottle you bought for him for Christmas the year prior. You peeked at him over the top of your book, watching his back muscles flex in the tight black tee he wore. Your mouth watered at the sight of his strong arms and his soft stomach as he turned to face you.
You quickly raised the book above your eyes, fearing that you had been caught staring. You missed Rhett’s knowing smirk.
“Move over,” Rhett poked at the bottom of your foot, the motion tickling you ever so slightly and causing you to jerk your leg towards you. “What are you reading? New dirty novel?” He teased.
“No…” you said quietly, a little shamefully.
“Liar. Is this one better than the last at least?”
“So far. Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier?” You stretched your legs back out and they landed in Rhett’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind. His unoccupied hand landed on your shin, calloused thumb lightly brushing the bone there. Your mind went blank and you could hear nothing but static in your ears.
“I got invited to this rancher’s event. They want me to give a speech. Stupid, but I agreed. And I… I need a plus one. And I figured maybe if you wanted to-“
“Yes!” You said eagerly, spine straightening. “I mean- sorry- go ahead…” Your cheeks felt hot at your abruptness. He was probably going to ask you to set him up with someone. Probably Lisa, Ellie’s dance teacher. She always had her eye on him.
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me. Give you a break. It’s the weekend my parents wanted to take the girls camping. That is.. if you didn’t have any plans…”
Rhett sounded nervous. He was looking down at where his hand rested on your leg, avoiding all eye contact.
“Oh. Yeah. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll go with you. As-“
“Friends, of course.”
“Right. Friends. What’s the dress code?” You asked, heart sinking slightly.
“Black tie,” Rhett grumbled. He hated dressing up. If he can’t wear flannel, he doesn’t want to be there.
“Perfect. I’ll find a dress to wear.”
“Well. I’ll leave you to the reading. Goodnight, Tilly.” Rhett tapped your leg a couple of times before moving you so he could stand.
You sighed deeply as he left the room, trying to ignore the gut wrenching feeling you had at his response. You couldn’t focus on your book and you eventually went upstairs to attempt to sleep.
“I want you so bad,” Rhett growled against your neck, teeth sinking into your skin causing you to whimper and arch against him. His leg was in between yours, keeping your thighs separated and your barely covered cunt brush against his suit pants. “You’re fucking soaked, sweet girl. You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”
“Rhett, please!” You whined pathetically, grinding down on his thigh, searching for any sort of relief.
“Beg for it, baby. Beg for daddy. Tell me what you want.” Rhett said, voice low and gravelly. He pressed you into the wall harder, flexing his thigh as you keened. “I know you want me to fu-“
“Tillyyyyyy, wake uppppp,” a tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Your eyes shot open so fast it made your head spin. Your entire body was hot even though you just had the sheet covering you and the ceiling fan was on. You were having a dream about Rhett. A fucking wet dream. And now Ellie was yelling at you in the hallway. You felt like you were being punished.
You checked your phone. 5:37am. Jesus, why was she awake?
“I’m up, El. Hold your horses.” You went to the en-suite bathroom to splash cold water on your face. “Get yourself together. Now,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at yourself in the mirror.
The four-year-old stood outside your door with her stuffed horse tucked under her arms. Her eyes were a little red and she was sniffling.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I feel sick,” she whispered weakly, clutching the horse to her chest tighter.
“Come on, bug. I’ll get you some medicine.”
You picked her up and perched her on your hip as you carried her down the stairs. Her forehead felt a little warm. She sat patiently on the counter while you poured the medicine in the little cup and you rubbed her back as she swallowed it.
“Good job, El! I’m proud of you. Here, drink some water and let’s get you back to bed, okay?”
She nodded as she took a big gulp of water from her sippy cup. You trotted back up the stairs, bouncing her slightly to make her giggle.
“Alright, you got your water here and Honey is right here with you. Try to get some sleep, bug. I’ll fix pancakes when you wake up.” You tucked Ellie in, kissing her forehead before you stood up.
Her eyes were already heavy and she mumbled something you couldn’t hear.
“What was that?”
“Luh you, mama.” She repeated sleepily, snuggling her horse and then started snoring softly immediately.
“Oh… I- I love you too, bug.”
You didn’t know how to react. She had never called you that before and it made your eyes misty with tears. You couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after the dream and not after Ellie calling you mama.
The next few hours went by in a blur. You had planned to go shopping with your friend Tabitha to find your dress for the dinner. After dropping the girls off at school, you met Tabitha at the mall. You were in a daze, barely listening to her rant about her latest failed Tinder date.
“Hellooooo,” she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Are you even listening?”
“Yeah, sorry. No, I’m just- I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sighed as you placed your face in your hands.
“What do you mean?”
“With Rhett! It’s like- why am I going to this dinner? Why do I keep torturing myself? And Ellie! She called me her mom this morning! I want a family and I feel like I have it but it’s not really mine, you know?”
“You need to get laid. That’s what you need,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She looked through the dresses on the rack in the store you were in. “Oh. My. God. This. This dress. Go try it on. NOW!”
She shoved a velvet dress into your arms and pushed you towards the fitting rooms. It was a deep green color, the fabric felt soft against your skin. It wasn’t a dress you would pick out for yourself but once you slid it over your head your jaw dropped at the sight in the mirror.
The bodice was a corset type, something you didn’t typically reach for but was pleasantly surprised at how it looked on you. The dress was form fitting but not uncomfortably so. The strap tied around your neck, lifting your chest and displaying the tops of your breasts tastefully.
The dress hugged your every curve, accentuating parts of your body you weren’t necessarily happy with, but now you felt sexy. Powerful. You opened the door and called for Tabitha. She came running with a few other options in her hands but her reaction matched your own as she laid eyes on you.
“Holy fuck. Yeah, no, forget these. You have to get that one. If he doesn’t fuck you, I will.”
You rolled her eyes at her antics and looked into the mirror once more. You felt so beautiful in the dress. It made you a little giddy at the thought of Rhett’s reaction. If he even had one. You tried to shake the negative thought away. If he didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe a nice cowboy who’d be down for a one night stand at a fancy hotel.
The week passed by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Rhett was packing the girls’ bags for their camping trip and was shouting up at you that he was going to pick up his suit in town from the tailor’s.
You took your time styling your hair the way you liked and you did your makeup, keeping it light but putting on a red lip. Just to be a little bold.
You hid in your room until you heard Rhett finish getting ready and head down the stairs.
“Tilly, you ready? We should leave so-“ Rhett stopped as he turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the wood. “Wow…” he breathed. “You look, ehem, you look nice. That’s a pretty dress.” He fiddled with his cuff links, avoiding eye contact.
“Thank you,” you responded shyly. He held his arm out to escort you to the black pickup truck. The ride was silent except for the radio and the hum of the engine. You couldn’t stop from looking to Rhett. His hair was slicked back, the gray hair looked more prominent. His temples were nearly white. He had a shadow of stubble on his jaw and his suit fit him in all the right places.
You pulled up to a beautiful hotel. It was a grand building, accents of gold sparkled in the setting sun and gorgeous flowers lined the walkways. Rows of trucks indicated that you were at the right place. And the men in bolo ties and cowboy hats gave it away.
Rhett forwent his Stetson and chose a sleek black tie, looking a little out of place but you thought he looked beautiful.
He parked and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and closing his eyes.
“Everything okay?” You questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his forearm.
“Huh? Yeah. M’good. Just nervous. I can’t stand half the people in that room,” he mumbled, smiling softly at you. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’ll do great. I can fake an emergency if needed.”
“Fall down the stairs if I give you a look,” Rhett joked.
“You got it, boss,” you winked at him. You reached for the door handle, preparing to get out of the truck but his hand on your arm now stopped you.
“Wait… I have something for you. A token of appreciation for coming with me. Also, an early birthday present.”
Rhett pulled a long, rectangular box from the side of the door. He opened it to show a diamond bracelet.
“Rhett- that’s- I can’t-“ You couldn’t stop from reaching out and running your fingers along the jewels.
“You deserve it. You work so hard and I don’t say it enough but you mean a lot to me. To the girls. Just wanted to give you something nice,” he said, voice a little shaky.
Something shifted as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. His touch lingered on your skin and it was hard for you to breathe. You tried so hard to keep things professional, but it’s changed. Everything has changed in the cab of Rhett’s truck.
You headed inside, arm linked with Rhett’s as he greeted the people inside. He was so charismatic, putting on a face you’d never seen before. It was sexy. He was controlling the room. Everyone loved him.
You could feel eyes following you as you walked towards the front of the ballroom. You heard a few whispers from the older women, surely gossiping about the obvious age gap between you and your employer.
“I’m gonna grab some drinks. You gonna be okay here?” Rhett whispered in your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine.
“I’ll be good. Can you get me a Long Island?”
“Of course. Be right back.” He hurried off towards the bar, getting stopped several times along the way. You felt like a fish out of water here. You chewed on your thumb nail, anxiously waiting for Rhett to come back.
“I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see the chair to your right being pulled away and a young man, around your age, sat down beside you. His black cowboy hat hid his eyes but he had a wide smirk on his face.
“I bet you’ve said that at least ten times tonight,” you responded, trying to ignore him.
“Name’s Wes. And you are-“
“Not interested. Beat it, buddy,” Rhett growled as he sat your drinks down and sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair possessively.
“I see how it is. Rhett… good to see you.”
Rhett hummed as he glared at Wes over the rim of his glass, silently willing him to scram. It was hot.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“He’s trouble,” Rhett mumbled.
The evening went on without a hitch. Dinner was decent and you joined in on a few conversations. Rhett’s speech was wonderful and informative about the cattle business. He looked good on stage but you knew he was nervous. He made his way back to you, smiling slightly.
“Come dance with me, honey,” he spoke lowly.
“Let me go freshen up a bit,” you squeaked, rushing to the bathroom. Your nerves were getting the best of you. It was just a dance. A quick dance and you’d be heading home. Nothing more.
You made your way back to the ballroom, catching Rhett’s eyes and you trembled slightly at the heat that formed there. A slow song started just as you made your way to the dance floor.
His large hand engulfed yours as his other splayed on the low of your back. You could smell his cologne as he pulled you close to him. You felt a piece of paper in your right palm as Rhett swayed the two of you around.
“What’s that?”
“You can read it when we’re done dancin’,” Rhett drawled, looking down at you. Even with you in heels, his frame still towered over you.
The song ended too quickly for your liking and Rhett was called over to a table filled with older gentlemen, leaving you standing in the middle of the floor. The crumpled napkin had been left in your hand and you spread it out to read the note.
Meet me at the staircase by the piano - R
You gasped slightly and looked around, meeting Rhett’s eyes as he chatted with the group he was with. He was expressionless but there was a fire in his eyes again. One that made your body react and you tried not to squeeze your thighs together in front of everyone there. You made your way back to your table to drink the rest of your drink, a little liquid courage, before you made your way to the staircase.
You stood there for what felt like ages but in reality was only a few minutes. You bounced on your feet, nerves building every second that passed.
“Hey, you,” Rhett’s voice called from behind you, approaching you with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” you responded, feeling awkward.
Rhett pulled a key from his pocket. A hotel room key. Room 475 engraved in the key tag.
“You can say no. You can tell me to fuck off. You can quit-“
“Yes,” the answer came without a beat.
“Yeah?” His eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his thin lips.
“You have no idea how bad I want you, Rhett,” you confessed, breathless.
Rhett let out a desperate noise as he reached for you and crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head. You moaned wantonly as his tongue expertly licked into your mouth. You should go upstairs, should stop before anyone sees you.
“Rhett, we should- we need to-“
“Yeah… Yeah.”
His hand linked with yours as he pulled you to the elevator, not wasting time pushing you inside and against the wall, the railing digging into your lower spine a bit uncomfortably. His lips reconnected with yours, a low grunt escaping his throat.
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, lips barely leaving yours. Hands explored your body, gripping at your soft hips and thighs, circling around to grab handfuls of your ass. The touch caused you to arch your body towards his, back bowing as he traveled higher and started palming your breast.
“I’ve thought about this - thought about you - for longer than I’d like to admit,” Rhett spoke, deep voice rattling in his chest. “Makes me feel like a dirty old man.”
You just whined pathetically, gripping at his lapels to anchor yourself. You were about to grind against the thigh that had pushed its way between your thighs but the high pitched ding of the elevator caused you to jump apart. Moving so fast, you would have thought you had been electrocuted.
A little old lady walked into the elevator, not missing the way you and Rhett looked disheveled. It was blatantly obvious what you were just doing. Rhett cracked a smile at her, nodding his head in her direction. Your chest was still heaving and your knees felt shaky.
She only went up two floors, a quick ride that felt like an eternity. Rhett’s pinky brushed against your hand where it rested on the rail, the small touch sending shocks through you.
“Have a nice evenin, ma’am,” Rhett said sickeningly sweet and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh at the look she threw his way as she exited the lift.
Your stop was next and nerves bubbled in your stomach at what was about to happen.
Silence surrounded you and Rhett now as you walked to the room. Not a word was spoken as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. You stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wringing your hands together as you looked toward the wooden floor.
Rhett tossed his jacket haphazardly onto the floor, approaching you slowly. Giving you the chance to run. It reminded you of a lion stalking a gazelle before it pounced. His calloused hands rubbed the length of your arms before his touch brushed the side of your neck, eventually cupping your face. A rough thumb caressed your cheekbone.
“Darlin’, look at me. Please,” Rhett spoke quietly, as if not to scare you. You continued to look down, which caused him to pinch your chin and lift your gaze to him. “Are you sure about this? We can- we don’t have to-“
“No. No, I want to. I have for a while. A long, long while.”
“Good,” he said, coming out an octave lower and his eyes landed on your red covered lips. His thumb ran across the pout of your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “I want to devour you.”
A shaky breath escaped you before you wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking softly on the digit.
“Fuck,” he moaned.
You stood there for a moment, his thumb in your mouth and your eyes locked on each other. It made tensions rise tenfold. You pulled away with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva following in its wake.
Impatience got the best of you as you started clawing at his tie and shirt buttons, nearly sending them flying through the room. Rhett chuckled at your huffy breaths of frustration as you yanked on his clothing. You threw the tie behind you, his shirt was shoved off his shoulder and into the chair next to the door. His belt made a loud clink as it hit the window.
“Easy, girl. Don’t destroy the room. Or my clothes,” Rhett teased, stopping your hasty movements. You finally took the chance to pause and look at the man standing before you. Hairy chest on full display. The dark hair traveled down in a continuous line all the way down to the waist of his pants. His soft stomach and love handles made your mouth water.
“You’re so- fuck, Rhett. You’re so sexy,” you said.
“My turn.” He untied the neck of your dress slowly, taking his time pulling the bow loose. He turned you so your back was to him, unzipping you unhurriedly. You let the dress fall to your feet as you turned to face him again, leaving you in your lingerie and high heels.
“My god. Look at you.” Rhett took in the sight of you. Black lace left little to the imagination.
Things moved in a blur after that. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to remove the heels and he almost ripped your bra as he unclasped it with one hand. He tossed it aside and you tried not to giggle as it landed on the lampshade of the lamp that sat on the bedside table.
The edge of the bed knocked against the back of your knees as he pushed you softly so you landed on your back, bouncing on the mattress slightly. He stood between your spread thighs, undoing the button of his slack and pushing them down, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath.
You let out a quiet whine as your eyes traveled down his torso and stopping at the large bulge that was confined by the cotton. Even in the low lighting, you could see a small wet spot from the precum.
Large hands massaged your inner thighs as he spread them apart even farther, causing a slight burn in your muscles. He groaned at the sight of your barely clothed cunt. Rhett fell to his knees swiftly and delved into you without warning. Expert licks moved against your wetness through the thin lace, which had been quickly ripped away. His nose bumped against your bundle of nerves as his tongue explored your folds.
His long fingers soon joined his ministrations, finding that spongy spot inside of you in a matter of seconds. You’d question how he did that later. As of now, you tried to control your shaking limbs as he pushed you higher and higher towards your peak. Scratchy stubble rubbed against you, causing a delicious burn.
He stuck true to his word and devoured you, not leaving one part of you undiscovered.
Rhett’s lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking softly, tongue flicking against the bud. You trembled beneath him and your back bowed off the mattress, bucking against his mouth. A strong arm slung itself over your middle, keeping you pinned to the bed.
Your hands gripped his locks tightly, tugging hard when his tongue sped up.
“Rhett. Oh, Rhett. Fuck. Daddy!” It didn’t take much for your moans to become near screams and for galaxies to explode behind your eyelids as you came against Rhett’s face. Your body was jerking involuntarily as you traveled down from your high. Rhett placed feather light kisses against you before pulling away, hair sticking up in places and his face covered in your release.
He traveled up your body and kissed you soundly, the tangy taste of your desire mixing with something so Rhett made you both moan into each other’s mouths.
“Lay back, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you,” Rhett said quietly. You made yourself comfortable against the soft pillows as Rhett stretched you in preparation for his cock. “Damn pillow princess,” he joked. It made you smile.
He had three thick fingers inside of you before you stopped him.
“Stop! Please! I- I wanna come with you inside me,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist. He nodded and pulled his fingers out fleetingly.
You blindly shoved at his boxers and he clumsily kicked them off the end of the bed, his hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. Fuck, he was big.
Rhett pulled back and sat on his knees, gripping the base of his dick and placing it on your stomach.
“Look, baby. You think you can take me? Think you can handle daddy’s cock?”
“Please! Please, fuck me. Need it. Need you. Please!” You begged, lifting your hips and causing the leaking head to brush against your already sensitive clit. You simultaneously let out a loud moan. He rubbed himself through your folds, teasing you and him both.
“Wait, hold on.” Rhett pulled away and searched for his trousers, pulling his wallet out and rummaging through it. He pulled out a foil wrapper and ripped it with his teeth. You had never seen anything sexier.
“Can I do it?” You asked shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He handed the condom to you and kept eye contact as you rolled the latex down his length carefully. He was heavy in your hand.
You laid back once more, a trembling breath escaping your mouth as he lined up with your entrance. Even with his prepping, it was still a stretch. The slight burn caused you to hiss and dig your nails into his biceps. He took a break between each inch, time passing slowly as he made small thrusts. He eventually bottomed out, a broken moan coming from his chest as you squeezed around his length.
You stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily as his forearms caged you in.
“Daddy. Move. Please,” you whined, fingers moving tangle in the curls at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you, the girth and length of him touching places you’d never been able to reach before. It started slow, he was allowing you to get accustomed to him.
However, it didn’t take long before his thrusts became a little rougher. His hands now were placed a the top of your head as he put his body weight into his movements, grunts escaping him with each pass, your high pitched breaths matching him.
“So tight. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for it. Made for me. All mine, all mine,” Rhett rambled. The headboard started to smack against the wall slightly as he pounded into you. You couldn’t breathe. You were approaching a feeling you had never felt before. Your brain was becoming fuzzy and your ears were beginning to ring.
“Da-daddy. M’gonna- I’m almost there,” you squealed as a particularly harsh thrust hit your g-spot.
“C’mon, sweet baby. Come for daddy,” his deft fingers started rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles and you let out a scream as your release washed over you. Rhett continued fucking into you until he pushed deep inside you and threw his head back towards the ceiling, filling the condom with his own release.
He collapsed on top of you, full body weight covering you like a blanket. You felt like were floating. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed against Rhett’s back, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. You stayed silent for a while, both trying to catch your breaths as you came down. He eventually pulled out of you slowly, causing you to wince. He discarded the condom and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and a glass of water.
You were quiet as he took care of you, smiling softly as he pulled you to sit up and take a few sips of water. You had never been cared for like this after sex. It made your chest constrict. You moved under the covers and waited for Rhett to follow suit. He immediately pressed his warm body against your own, pulling you tight to his chest.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said with a slight giggle.
“I can’t believe it took us this long,” Rhett retorted, fingers dancing along your spine.
You both laughed a little before it fell silent once again.
“Rhett?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“What does this make us?” You asked as you ran your fingers through the thick chest hair.
“Well… I think this means you’ll be sleeping in my bed when we get home. But don’t call HR on me.”
“You are HR, Rhett. Seriously, though. Are we like-“
“I want you to be my girl. I have spent the past several months falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon, but damn it, darlin’. You’ve stolen my heart,” Rhett confessed, his words causing your eyes to well with tears.
“Rhett… I- I love you, too.”
“The girls are going to be excited. They’ve been begging me to ask you to be my girlfriend since you moved in.”
“They’re trouble, I swear,” you laughed, snuggling closer to your man.
“They’re the reason I have all of this gray hair.”
“Yeah, but it’s hot. Very… very… very hot,” you responded, emphasizing the T. You giggled as he rolled over on top of you and started kissing against your neck playfully.
You kissed each other softly in the dark until you fell asleep holding each other tight. And when the sun rose in the morning, a new beginning would be awaiting you.
tagging those who may be interested:
@ryebecca @whisperofsong @floydsmuse @laracrofted @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @bobfloydsbabe @callsign-magnolia @attapullman
#rhett abbott#rhett abbott smut#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott au#dilf rhett 4 ever <3#rhett x babysitter#rhett abbott fanfic
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Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader
all of my works are 18+ only, minors DNI!
Synopsis: When a guy won't leave you alone, you ask the pretty cowboy at the bar to pretend to be your boyfriend.
WC: 2900
Warnings: not much? this is mostly just fluff :) fake dating, mentions of harassment/guys being creepy, mentions of alcohol and drinking, flirting? like one mention of sex, i feel like that gif of rhett should be a warning
a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally decided to write it (: kinda feel like it's a bit shit but please enjoy, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ♥
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“Hey, honey!” Rhett hears a sweet voice call out through the dimly lit, noisy bar. He senses a figure approaching to the left of the barstool he’s sat on, hand freezing halfway to his mouth as he goes to take a sip from his bottle of beer.
It takes him a moment to realize that you’re speaking to him, his confused expression meeting your hopeful, smiling one. He checks behind him for somebody else, but nope, there’s no one there — you’re definitely talking to him.
“Uh…hi? Do I- do we… know each other?” Rhett places his beer down on the bar, wincing as he asks the question; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten a woman that he’d met in this very bar and drunkenly hooked up with. And that situation never usually ends well for him.
You’re very pretty — beautiful, actually — and Rhett decides right then that he definitely doesn’t know you. There’s no way he’d ever be able to forget a face like that.
He’s pulled from his thoughts as you step a little closer to him, and though you’re still smiling, within the newfound proximity Rhett can now see a frazzled, almost pleading look in your bright eyes as you go to speak again.
“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask, your voice lowered to a level that only he can hear.
“Uh…” Rhett’s confusion is written all over his face, from his brows that furrow adorably to his gaping mouth.
Your own expression turns sheepish as you realize how silly the question sounds, and you’re quick to intercept and elaborate for him.
“There’s a guy over there,” you turn away from Rhett slightly and nod your head subtly to your left and catch a glimpse of the drunken stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone. “He’s been trying to hit on me for the last thirty minutes. Can’t seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.”
Rhett follows your gaze and sees a man sipping a beer and staring at the two of you from the other side of the bar.
“So… I told him that I was waiting for my boyfriend.”
When he meets your eyes again, he can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, but Rhett can sense that little hint of fear in your eyes and the worry in voice. And, though he doesn’t know you, he feels his protective instincts kick in.
You can see the change in his demeanor almost immediately, shoulders squared as he sends the other man across the room an intimidating glare that you don’t think you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.
But, when Rhett’s gaze returns to you, his blue eyes soften and his lips turn up just a bit. He gestures to the empty stool next to his and you take the seat with a sigh of relief and a grateful smile.
“If I’m gonna be your boyfriend, then I guess you should know my name. I’m Rhett.”
Your own shoulders deflate in relief that this kind stranger — Rhett — has agreed to help you, a genuine smile now forming on your lips as you introduce yourself as well.
You’re not entirely sure what made you choose him, but for some reason you found yourself drawn to the pretty cowboy sitting alone at the bar and drinking a beer. And, you’re glad you did.
He’s even prettier up close — little curls peeking out beneath his Stetson hat, adorable button nose, and his eyes captivating pools of blue, intense in their gaze that’s now focused on you. His voice deep and rich, and oh-so soothing.
“You new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” He’d definitely remember if he had.
You nod your head in confirmation. “Very new, I just moved here two days ago for work.”
“Well, welcome to Wabang. I promise not all us guys here are creeps like that asshole.” Rhett promises, once again glancing toward the man who had been harassing you earlier.
That draws a light chuckle out of you, but before you can respond, Rhett narrows his eyes and goes to speak again.
“Speaking of which, he’s still staring over here. I’m gonna put my arm around you… if you’re okay with that.”
Your head nods in agreement without really thinking much about it. Admittedly, you find yourself a little bit lost in the quiet, gravely tone of Rhett’s voice, that deep southern accent, and you’re fairly certain he could get you to agree to anything if he keeps talking to you like that.
Before you can register what’s happening, you’re enveloped by warmth and a pleasant musk that’s a spicy mix of vanilla and tobacco as Rhett leans in and drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.
“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” Rhett emphasizes the last word sarcastically; if he’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend, he’s going to have fun with it.
You take a second too long to answer, too busy trying to inhale Rhett’s scent again as discreetly as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice — he definitely notices.
When you look back up into his eyes, there’s a playful mirth to them, and a smirk overtaking his lips at how flustered you are by the close proximity and the use of the pet name.
“Y-yeah…yes.” You shake your head as though to clear it. “I’ll have a beer.”
As you inwardly cringe at yourself for stumbling through your answer, Rhett simply smirks and raises his hand to flag down the bartender and order your drink, all the while keeping you close to his side underneath his arm.
Only when the bartender places the bottle down in front of you does Rhett remove his arm from around your shoulders, and you find yourself already missing the warmth of the denim of his jacket on your bare skin.
“So, you moved here for work. What do you do?”
You tell him all about your new job and how excited you are for this fresh start in a new place, and Rhett listens intently, chiming in when necessary, loving how passionate you are about your work and content to just listen to the melodic sound of your voice.
“Alright, enough about me. What do you do, Rhett?” It’s the first time you’ve said his name tonight and Rhett feels his cheeks heat, deciding right then that he loves the way it sounds on your lips and that he needs to hear it more.
“I help out on my family’s ranch,” Rhett tells you. “…But I’m also a bull rider.” A small grin grows on his lips that tells you just how much he loves it.
“A bull rider?!” You’re beaming at him, eyes widened in surprise. “No way, that’s so cool! Way cooler than my job.”
Rhett lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head in an attempt to protest. Bashful and blushing even harder now, he tries to brush it off – unable to take a compliment, but you’re having none of it.
“Come on, it’s very impressive! Maybe I’ll come cheer you on in the stands sometime.”
“Yeah?” The two of you share light-hearted grins and you give Rhett an affirmative nod. Yeah, he would definitely like that.
The two of you sit at the bar and talk for a while longer, Rhett buying you a couple more beers. You discuss anything and everything that comes to mind and share a good few laughs, the alcohol leaving you on just the right side of tipsy, feeling open and content – light.
Rhett only nurses the one beer that he’s been drinking since you approached him earlier in the evening. He finds himself already feeling a bit protective of you, liking the responsibility of keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re having a good time. Besides, he just really enjoys talking to you and doesn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight.
Rhett continues to also keep an eye on the guy who was bothering you earlier – though he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t try to approach you again since you’ve been at Rhett’s side for a while now, his arm once again finding itself wrapped securely around your side.
However, Rhett’s noticed throughout the night that he’s not the only man in the bar he’s caught looking at you – yes, you’re new in town, but he knows they’re also looking – staring really – because of how beautiful you are. And he maybe finds himself feeling a bit jealous.
“Seems you’ve caught the attention of just about every guy in here tonight.” Rhett informs you with a teasing lilt to his voice to make light of the situation, smirking into his beer bottle as he takes the final sip.
“Not that I want it.” You roll your eyes dramatically. A playful smirk then takes over your lips — you’ve got an idea. The corner of Rhett’s lips quirk up a bit too as his brow raises in question.
“Just trust me.” Your face is leaning in closer towards him and before Rhett can process what’s happening, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.
The fact that you’re tipsy has definitely provided you some liquid courage, that much is for sure when you pull back and shift to whisper into Rhett’s ear.
“Gotta let them know that I’m all yours.” Your tone is playful, sarcastically seductive, the warmth of your breath against the skin of Rhett’s earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and he has to fight to hold back a groan. God, does he wish that statement were true.
You can’t stop the little fit of giggles that escapes you as you pull back, and Rhett can’t help but chuckle along with you. Admiring the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the adorable way that your nose wrinkles too. The skin of his cheek is still burning where your plush lips had kissed him.
Now it’s Rhett who has an idea, you can almost see the light bulb flicker behind his crystal blue eyes when they peer into yours again.
“Do you have a ride home?” He asks and your brows furrow adorably, curious as to where he’s going with this. You let him know that you were just going to call an Uber.
“I can drive you home… if you’d like.” Rhett’s nowhere near drunk from the one beer he’s had all evening.
“And there is a way you could show everyone you’re mine.” He proposes, that playful smirk returning to his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at Rhett, but you can’t help but grin along with him, still wondering what he could possibly be suggesting.
Rhett goes to remove the cowboy hat from his head, repeating your own words from only a few moments ago. “Just trust me.”
He moves to place the hat atop your head, a silly grin still on his face as he adjusts it over your hair. You meet his look with a puzzled smile of your own, unsure of what he meant, but something within you tells you that you can – trust him, that is.
Rhett flags down the bartender and closes his tab before lightly knocking his fists on the wooden bar top.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Rhett chuckles like he knows something you don’t, and you can only roll your eyes in jest as you wait to be let in on the joke.
Rhett watches as you shrug on your jacket, stealing a long glance at you wearing his Stetson – feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest and enjoying the way it looks on your head – before he gently ushers you toward the exit of the bar.
Near the door, he sends a self-assured smirk to the asshole who had been bothering you earlier in the evening, who just watches along from a nearby booth with his buddies, a sour look on his face as you walk out into the night with Rhett’s arm draped over your shoulder.
Only when you’re secured into the passenger side of his truck does Rhett divulge the nature of his plan.
“So, uh — the hat,” Rhett nods towards his hat that you’re wearing and your fingers reach up to touch the worn fabric. “If you wear someone’s cowboy hat, you’re supposed to uh…ride the cowboy…”
He trails off, admittedly a bit nervous now – he doesn’t want to come off as a creep – as he explains the ‘cowboy hat rule’ as he called it, to you. His way of making the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seem a bit more real to any prying eyes, showing everyone in the bar that you’re ‘his’.
You stare at him in bewilderment for a long moment, mouth agape. Your expression sends Rhett into a boisterous fit of laughter, unable to refrain, and earns him a playful smack on the arm.
You close your eyes and cover your face with your palms. “Oh my god…”
“Oh, come on. It’s kinda funny.” Rhett contends through his laughter and you send him what you hope to be a scornful pout. But there’s no real malice behind it, a smile fighting to break through as you find it hard to be annoyed with him.
“And it’s not like I’m gonna hold you to it.” He promises with a wink that might make you swoon if you weren’t already sitting down.
Before you know it, you’re joining in on the laughs, unable to hold back any longer and relishing in the humor or the situation.
Once you’ve rattled off your address to Rhett, the ride to your home is filled with quiet music pouring from the truck’s radio – though it merely serves as background noise as you and Rhett spend the entire 20-minute drive talking. Sharing little details about yourselves and making plenty more jokes. His Stetson still sitting pretty atop your head.
Despite having spent hours talking with him in the bar, you still find yourself wanting to know more about him, not wanting the conversation – or this night – to end.
The truck reaches your little house all too soon, and Rhett finds himself not wanting the night to end either. Pretending to be your boyfriend was the highlight of his evening and he wants nothing more than to see you again.
When he stops the truck at the end of the little path leading to your front door, Rhett clears his throat before moving to speak.
“So, I — uh, I was wondering, c-could I… maybe get your phone number?” Rhett asks quietly, a pink flush taking over his pale cheeks as he internally curses himself for sounding so nervous.
You don’t mind it, though — this seemingly tough cowboy growing all flustered and stumbling over his words for you? You couldn’t find it more endearing.
Rhett holds his breath as your pretty eyes — slightly glassy still from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the evening, look straight into his blue ones, and you grace him with a coy smile.
“Of course. Who else am I going to call when guys are harassing me and I need a fake boyfriend?”
Rhett releases the breath he was holding and bites back a smile, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Great.”
Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you gingerly remove Rhett’s hat from your head, smoothing down your hair.
Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scoot closer toward him in the bench seat, reaching up to carefully place it back on top of his head — your eyes gazing into Rhett’s blue ones as they peer back into yours, the two of you sharing bashful smiles.
With the cowboy hat secured on the head of its rightful owner, you move to pull away. However, you pause before you get too far, deciding to lean in and place one last kiss to Rhett’s cheek before climbing out of his truck.
Rhett’s in such a daze – cheeks flushing that bright pink once again as warmth radiates from where your lips had kissed him, and a dopey grin on his lips – that he almost doesn’t notice as you walk around to the driver’s side of his truck, leaning a bit into the open window. Your face close to his, lit up all pretty in the moonlight.
“Thank you for turning my shitty night around, Rhett.” You bite back a grin. “I had a lot of fun.”
Before Rhett can respond – still flustered from the kiss to his cheek and now from hearing you say his name again, you back away from his window, making your way towards the path. Walking backwards, still facing the truck and grinning at him all the while.
“Oh, and you’re a really great fake boyfriend!” You call out.
Breaking off into a giggle that carries in the night’s slight breeze and Rhett can only chuckle back, shaking his head as he watches you with a fond smile.
With that, you turn around and walk off to your house with a spring in your step. Rhett stays sat there in his truck until he sees you make it through your front door safely, and he’s absolutely beaming.
Rhett's going to call you first thing tomorrow. He hopes that he can turn this ‘fake’ boyfriend situation into something real.
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Thank you for reading! x
taglist: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 ♥
also tagging a few people that I think may enjoy/liked my last rhett fic ♥ : @roleycoleyreccenter @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @mothdruid @lewmagoo @foreverrandomwritings @pillow-titties @sobshoney
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#rhett abbott#outer range#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott x female reader#rhett abbott x y/n#rhett abbott imagine#lewis pullman#rhett abbott fluff#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott fic#rhett abbott one shot#my writing
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Mending Fences
Day 15: Virginity (Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)
CW: Childhood friends; yee-haw angst; idiots in love; pining; smut (PiV, protected and unprotected); 18+ only.
Word Count: 6954
AN: This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by an anonymous type!
AN2: Believe me when I say this is not beta read and has not been edited at all. Shitty first drafts, all. Shitty first drafts foisted into publication.
Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.
Wabang remains largely the same. Maria leaves town and Rhett despairs to have missed his chance. He throws himself into the ranch, into rodeo. He drinks. He scraps with the Tillersons.
Perry and Rebecca make him an uncle, which delights him. Royal makes his disappointment in his younger son no secret, which hurts Rhett deeper than he’ll admit to anyone.
Three years. Cecilia mentions you from time to time. When she runs into your uncle in town, she gets the news, which she conveys over the dinner table to the rest of the Abbotts. By the time it trickles down to Rhett, it’s just facts: how you like college, how you’re getting good grades.
Rhett doesn’t think his mother knows about your falling out. He thinks your uncle can guess at it: when Rhett sees the man in town, he’s met with a stony stare, curt words.
He hates the way he left it with you. Every time he thinks about it, his stomach twists and cramps at the wash of shame that courses through him. There are many times during those three years apart that he thinks of you, that he has the idle thought to reach out. He has your number, your email. He could reach out. He could apologize.
He always thinks of you when he’s working on the lower field of the Abbott Ranch. It butts against your family’s ranch, a quarter mile of shared fencing, and part of the reason why his mother and yours had been such good friends—and why you and Rhett had been childhood friends too. There’s a section of fencing with a gap perfectly sized for a child’s body, and both you and Rhett had squeezed through it plenty of times as you went to each other’s houses.
He doesn’t know why your friendship faded. You used to be inseparable as children, the best of friends. You used to play in the Abbott barn with Rhett until Royal shooed you both away. Rhett used to sleep beside you in a tent in your backyard, your mother within earshot and ready to usher you inside if either of you lost your nerve after a night of telling each other ghost stories.
And when your parents died, Rhett did everything he could to help, in his own childish way: he clowned around to try and coax a smile from you, he offered awkward hugs when you cried. Once, he even baked you cookies (with Cecilia’s help).
The drifting apart came in middle school, he guesses. That’s when the boys and girls started to separate. That’s when Perry made sly jokes about you, called you Rhett’s little girlfriend, and Rhett bristled at the taunt while you looked hurt at Rhett’s bristling. You spent less time together: Rhett fell in with the other boys who drove their trucks outside of town for bonfire parties on the range and dreamed of rodeo and buckle bunnies while you turned inward, studied harder, started dreaming of life outside of Wabang.
When he works on the Abbott ranch’s lower field, he sees the gap in the fencing and marvels that he was ever small enough to squeeze through it…and yet it gives him a pang to see it, to remember those golden years of his childhood he spent with you.
He could reach out. He could apologize. He could, after an opening salvo, express his own confusion and frustration about why you had asked him to take your virginity in the first place. He guesses that you trust him—or trusted him—but he can’t pretend it didn’t unnerve him all the same.
He could reach out, but he doesn’t.
Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.
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It comes with no warning, the next time he sees you. There’s been no chatter about you returning to Wabang for the summer. You’ve spent other summers at college, working internships and taking classes, so Rhett didn’t expect to see you this summer.
Rhett sees you in the town proper, just like that, like it’s just another day. Which it is, except there you are: standing outside of a restaurant, balancing a flat box of pizza in one hand while a six-pack of beer dangles from the other hand. You’ve been cornered by one of the older Wabang residents, the mother of one of your high school classmates, and judging by the expression on your face, Rhett guesses you’re calculating how to extricate yourself from the situation.
He's idling in his truck and only has a moment to study you. You look exactly the same—same face, same hair—yet you seem completely different. It takes Rhett a long moment to realize why; he doesn’t piece it together until he’s pulled away and is driving towards the ranch.
You seem different because you seem taller—because you’re standing straight. Perfect posture, shoulders back. Rhett’s never seen you stand like that before: as a teenager, you had a way of walking bent over a little, your shoulders rounded over and in like you were trying to pull in on yourself.
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He catches glimpses of you here and there. He hears people mention you—college girl back from the great wider world—and Rhett can’t quite account for the feelings your name or face stir up in him. Sometimes it makes him duck his head, slink around guilty, like others could read those terrible words his said to you the last time he saw you.
Pity-fucking the town orphan, he had said. The words are seared into his memory, as permanent as any tattoo.
Other times, though, the mention of your name or a glimpse of you fills him with a lightness, an airy feeling he remembers from your childhood together. Like all he has to do is slip through that gap in the fencing to go find you, to take your hand in his for some adventure.
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It’s funny how some of the stringent cliques of high school soften once everyone graduates. Rhett still hangs out with his friends from then, since none of them have left Wabang, but interlopers come and go and are no worse for wear for it.
The bonfires still occur out on the range but there’s less stridency about who does and doesn’t belong, who was and wasn’t invited.
You never went to a bonfire in high school. You weren’t exactly friendless back then, but you hung with similarly quiet and studious girls. Girls who spent their Friday nights sleeping over at each other’s houses, watching movies and dreaming about lives far from Wabang. But one early summer night, you turn up at the bonfire, in tow with Billy Tillerson and his girlfriend and a handful of other friends.
That riot of feelings. Guilt and hope in equal measure. The beer Rhett has already drank doesn’t help. He’s just tipsy enough, his thoughts just fuzzy and sluggish enough that when you turn up in the circle of firelight, he openly gapes at you, and it draws your attention.
Three years after that terrible fucking night at the hotel, Rhett Abbott is finally looking you square in the eye.
Pity-fucking the town orphan, his memory hisses at him, and a sick wave of shame washes through him.
But if you’re remembering the terrible thing he said, Rhett can’t tell. You stare at him in the flickering firelight, but then you tip your head at him, a scant nod, and the corners of your lips curve into a semblance of a smile.
It’s been three years, so it’s better than nothing.
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He sees you again in the next few weeks, here and there. At the bar, around town. Each time, you exchange nods of recognition but little else.
Cecilia gets wind of you being back for the summer, and she spends a Saturday morning baking up a double batch of your favorite cookies—pumpkin chocolate chip. She underbakes them a shade so they stay soft in the middle, just as you and Rhett always liked them best when you were kids, and then she thrusts the foil-covered platter into her younger son’s hands with the directive to deliver them to you.
Maybe Rhett never gave his mother enough credit. Cecilia seems to know about the rift between you after all.
“Life’s too short to stay mad,” she tells him before she sends him on his way.
“Who says anyone’s mad?”
She rolls her eyes, a universal expression that all mothers seem to have that says I’m your mother, you’re not pulling a fast one on me.
“Her mom and I were best friends, but we had our spats. We never let it turn into a cold war, though. Talk it out, yell if you have to, but work through it.” She pats his shoulder, and her eyes have a film of tears as she remembers her best friend, your mother, dead now for these long years. “Life’s too short.”
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Something about his mother’s words make Rhett take the old path to your house—through the lower field, to the gap in the shared fencing, though he has to climb over the fence now that he’s too big to squeeze through the narrow space between the posts.
Each step towards your farmhouse brings back a million memories. There’s the overgrown bank of Rocky Mountain iris. Rhett remembers how you cut a bouquet of them (uneven, stems weeping sap) for when his childhood dog died and was buried behind the Abbott barn. There’s a wide fire pit where your father used to patiently supervise as the two of you caught marshmallows on fire for s'mores. There’s the flat patch of prairie where your parents pitched a small pup-tent that you and Rhett used to sleep in during warm summer nights.
It baffles him that he used to sleep right beside you, tucked in his Power Rangers sleeping bag while you slept in your Sailor Moon one beside him. It baffles him how childhood can be so completely innocent, and how it can slip away in an instant.
The house looks the same from the outside, and when Rhett knocks at the back door, he finds that he’s…not excited, exactly. But not dreading it. You were his best friend, and his mother is right. Life is too short.
Your uncle is the one who answers the door, and the cool expression on his face pulls Rhett up short. But he says nothing other than “c’mon in, then,” and once Rhett steps into the house, your uncle hollers for you somewhere deeper in the home. Tells you that you have a visitor and that he’s heading into town for supplies.
Then Rhett hears the familiar cadence of you running down the stairs, and it tugs at something in his chest—you ran down those stairs the same way as a child, hitting the top three carefully, then rushing down the rest. You must meet your uncle near the front door because he hears the two of you murmuring, but he can’t make out the words. Then the door slamming, the roar of your uncle’s truck’s engine, and then you’re standing in front of him, the same semblance of a smile from the bonfire.
*****
The two of you sit outside near the fire pit, the platter of cookies between you. You have no idea what bit Rhett’s ass, but after the barest bit of small talk (“How’s it going?” and “How’s college?”), he immediately launches into the big shit.
“I hate how we left it,” he starts. “That night. You know.”
You bite back a snort, and you pluck another cookie from the platter, break it in half, pop it in your mouth. You chew slowly, give yourself time for that old wash of shame to course through you, then ebb away. It still makes your face burn hot, three years later. Every time the memory surfaces, you shove it down, but not before you remember the mortification of getting cold feet, of standing in front of him half naked while he called you the town orphan.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“I should have never said it.”
You shrug. “S’fine.”
“It’s not.” He sighs, takes his ball cap off and swipes his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I shoulda said it sooner. Should have apologized that same night.”
You glance over at him. You take in his profile: his jaw twitches at how tight he must be clenching it, and his blue eyes are fixed out in the field, the stretch of land between your ranch and his. He’s so damned handsome, but you often forget the fact because you still think of him as just the boy next door, your childhood best friend, and you didn’t think of him in terms of “handsome” or not back then.
You shift your gaze back to your shoes. “I should have apologized too. I should have never put you in that position in the first place.” A beat, and you add, softer, “I’m sorry, Rhett.”
You hear movement beside you and feel his eyes on you. “You don’t have to apologize for that.” He sounds surprised, and it makes you turn and look him in the eyes for the first time since you sat down.
“I do. It was awkward, and I made it more awkward, and it was stupid.” You shake your head, huff in frustration to remember the girl you’d been three years ago. Not that long, really, but you’ve grown up a lot since then. “I was an idiot.”
Rhett chances a smile. “You’re a lot of things, but idiot isn’t one of them.”
“Yeah, but it was stupid to ask you.”
His smile slips a bit; he leans back a shade. “It wasn’t stupid—”
“I mean, I put you in a weird position. That’s all I mean. And it was stupid for me to be so worried about it. It’ll happen how it happens. We aren’t…I mean, we weren’t…” You trail off, huff in frustration again. “We used to be best friends.”
He sighs too. “Yeah, I know.”
“And then we weren’t.”
“I know.”
“And I guess I was getting nervous about leaving Wabang, and nervous about going away to college, and I missed my friend and had this…this problem, I guess, so…” You hold up your hands, helpless, and it makes Rhett smile again.
“Not everything is a problem that you need to solve,” he says, and he sways towards you, elbows you in the side just like he used to do.
You laugh a little. “That was, though.”
“It really wasn’t.”
“Says the guy who never had that problem.”
He laughs, elbows you lightly again. “You give me too much credit.”
That makes you remember the tenor of the situation three years ago. High school. Rhett pining over Maria. She left Wabang, you heard.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him now. “I heard Maria left town.”
He shrugs but doesn’t say anything about it. He reaches out for another cookie and eats it, licks a crumb off his thumb.
“Anyway, I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things so weird,” you add.
He chuckles, elbows you a third time. “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things fucking awful.”
You elbow him back finally, the answer to his outreach, the old call and response from your childhood. “I missed you, you know. In high school and in college both.”
“I missed you too,” he replies, and it feels good, like you’ve excised some old wound together, and now you can perhaps be friends again.
*****
The two of you don’t go all the way back to childhood, but you build something else. Tentative at first, stilted moments of conversation when you see each other in the wild, but each time feels a little easier.
You’re interning with the town veterinary clinic, and you join the old doctor as he makes house calls from ranch to ranch. You help steady horses while he vaccinates them. You smear on paste for ringworm, hold his instruments when he cleans a hoof abscess. You help him birth breech cattle; you stroke the muzzle of an old dog when it’s put to sleep.
Rhett sees you when you join the vet at the Abbott ranch one day. Royal’s favorite mare has a bad back hoof, and it makes Rhett smile to see you so professional. You question Royal about the horse’s diet; you question the vet about what he thinks. The vet asks you for your opinion, and you pause before you answer, look off into the distance thoughtfully before you tell him that a supplement of copper and zinc will help.
Cecilia invites you in afterwards for lemonade, and you accept gratefully. The two of you chat, and Rhett is left as a third wheel so he gets to look his fill of you. You seem more…comfortable with yourself. He noticed it that first day when he saw you again in Wabang. You sit up straight; you don’t curl in on yourself like you want to be invisible. He remembers you from high school, how you always seemed to be mid-cringe…and it reminds him of that night in the hotel, how you had cringed away from him, shirtless as he got frustrated because you had been nervous.
He knows he apologized and you apologized and it should all be behind you, but it still makes him feel queasy with shame. Pity-fucking the town orphan.
“Your mom would be proud,” Cecilia tells you, and you duck your head, mumble something, and just like that, you’re that high school girl again. It makes the queasy wash of shame cede to a wave of protectiveness in Rhett.
Then you stand up and thank her for the lemonade, and she makes you promise to join them for dinner soon. When you nod at Rhett, you try to step past him but he blocks your path.
“Hug tax,” he says, but it makes you burst into laughter. Your mom used to do that: block yours (and his, when he visited) path, demanded hugs as payment for passage.
“I smell like horse manure and sweat, Rhett Abbott.”
“I guarantee you I smell worse, but rules are rules.” He holds his arms open, and you laugh again, step into them for a moment. When he whispers “you stink” into your ear, it earns him a squawk of outrage and a pinch to his side, but you laugh the whole way back to your truck.
-----
You join them for dinner a few nights later. You get to meet the newest Abbotts, Rebecca and Amy, and you break up the general tension that radiates off of the dour Royal like a miasma.
The dinner is largely uneventful. Rhett catches you matching faces across the table at Amy, which makes the little girl laugh. Cecilia asks about your years at college so far, and Perry jokingly asks if you’ve had any boyfriends since Rhett.
“No, none,” you reply simply, but it makes Rhett think. It makes the gears start to turn. He always assumed your so-called problem was solved while you were away, your virginity shed in some dorm room or apartment or at a party. But he searches back to that conversation you had when he brought you the peace-offering cookies. What did you say as you stammered out your own apology?
It’ll happen how it happens.
Present tense, not past.
-----
He verifies it over that same weekend. There’s another bonfire. You turn up with the same crew as before—apparently you’re friendly with Billy Tillerson’s girlfriend. Now that you and Rhett are back on good terms, he approaches you halfway through the night, and the two of you peel off a little separate from the rest.
“Big fan of the Tillersons then?” he asks, his tone mock-disgusted. You hear the underlying playfulness and laugh.
“There’s a certain brand loyalty there, yeah.”
Rhett pulls a face, which makes you elbow him. “Why?”
“Well, their cousin Drew took me to the winter formal sophomore year.”
“So?”
Another elbow to his side. “He was my first kiss.”
“Gross.”
You laugh again. “It could have been worse. He popped a mint beforehand, at least.”
Rhett grunts at that, but he lets the moment lie for a beat before he asks, in a tone he hopes is casual, “did Drew Tillerson help you with your other problem too?”
You laugh again, but there’s less merriment in it. “Negative, Ghost Rider.”
Maybe he shouldn’t push it, but he’s had a few shots of Fireball chased by plenty of beer, so he plunges head-first. “Someone at college, then?”
That doesn’t elicit a laugh. “No,” you reply, and now there’s an edge of tension in your voice. A tread lightly edge. Which…Rhett Abbott rarely treads lightly—he more often charges headfirst like a bull, and that’s exactly what he does now.
“Someone I know?”
“No.” He glances at you, catches your narrowed eyes fixed on the fire. “Leave it, Rhett.”
He doesn’t leave it. He plunges head first. “So it’s still a problem?”
It must be. You must still be a virgin because you’re so discomfited. You obviously hear judgement in his voice—judgement that doesn’t exist, of course—because you hike your shoulders up around your ears and hunch away from him. You look so much like your high school self, suddenly insecure and cringing, and you mumble something about it not being a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone else, and then you duck away to go find someone else to talk to.
-----
The two of you hang out through the summer. He works at the ranch and you have your internship, but you fall into the habit of spending the evenings together. The weekends. You go to the rodeo with him, watch from the stands. Sometimes you sit with Perry and Rebecca when they come, and Perry makes sly comments to Rhett afterwards. He calls you his girlfriend, just as he had teased when you were kids, but it hits Rhett different now.
Things with you feel easy. Low stakes. You’re friends again, and you slowly open up to each other. Rhett tells you a little about Royal, their difficult relationship that has only grown more strained the older Rhett has gotten. You talk about college, how lonely it can be since you are so focused on your studies. Veterinary school is more competitive than med school, you tell him, so how can you make time for friends?
The corollary is how can you make time for love? How can you make time to lose your virginity?
When you asked him to take your virginity three years ago, he had been confused and a little uncomfortable about he. He couldn’t understand why you’d ask him, but with three years’ worth of added life experience, Rhett guesses that you asked because you trust him. Wabang isn’t that big of a town. There’s a dearth of available men you could have asked, especially back in high school.
Three years later, the memory makes a million emotions flit through Rhett. A nostalgia for when life was slightly easier back then. Shame that he had said what he did, sadness that he didn’t reach out sooner, that he let the bad feelings lie for three years.
But you had trusted him, even back then, so he wonders if you trust him now. Would you ask him again, if you weren’t so embarrassed? What if that evening in the hotel room had gone differently? What if, instead of getting frustrated with how nervous you were, he had been a gentler man—what if he had handed you your shirt, pulled you into a hug, laid down on the bed with you and watched a movie instead? What if you had fallen asleep together instead, just like when you were kids?
He has to wonder if that disastrous evening has made your virginity an even bigger deal. That you had a plan to lose it, and that plan had gone horribly, so now it’s more of an issue.
Pity-fucking the town orphan. The memory stings. There were so many kinder things he could have said.
Well, he has a semblance of a second chance now. He sees you nearly every day. You laugh with him again, have long chats. Maybe he can do it over again, better the second time around.
-----
He’s the one who asks, the second time around.
The two of you are in his truck, driving back from Wabang. Your truck is in the shop, so Rhett picked you up from work, but he takes the long way home. You fiddle with the radio, scan through the static until you find the old country station out of Jackson. There’s an old Loretta Lynn song playing that you hum along to, and you seem to be in a good mood, so Rhett plunges headfirst into it.
“If you wanted to try again,” he says, and his voice is rough at the edges. “I was gonna offer…”
He trails off, and you stop humming along, and Loretta finishes her song, gives way to Merle Haggard singing about how his mama tried.
“Rhett,” is all you say, but his name is both a sigh and a warning.
“I’m just saying.” He swallows, tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I messed up before. Ruined it.” He glances over at you, but your face is turned away from him. You’re looking out the window at the Wyoming dusk as the sun sets.
“Rhett, c’mon.” Less a warning now, more a plea.
“I want to,” is all he says, and you don’t reply. You don’t say anything else other than to murmur your thanks for the ride when he drops you off, and he doesn’t talk to you again until you call him days later and say, “okay.”
-----
Three years later, he does so much better.
He keeps it simple this time. He remembers all those sleepovers in the pup tent, your parents within earshot of any nighttime terrors. He remembers sleeping beside you, waking up to dawn bleeding in through the nylon of the tent, dew coating everything when your mom would unzip the little door and tell you that there were chocolate chip pancakes ready for the two of you.
You’ve never been a high maintenance sort of girl. You’ve always loved the wilderness around Wabang, the endless sky and wild storms and purple mountain ranges in the distance. Where better than to do this than under the night sky, out on the range?
Rhett lays down a thick bedroll in the bed of his truck, then covers it with blankets. It’s a banner night in Wyoming: cool but not cold, the warmth of the summer day bleeding away to a comfortable coolness. The bugs are few. The sky is a velvety blue-black above you, the stars a scatter of diamonds tossed across it. The faintest band of orange glows in the west, the last bit of sunlight before it’s full dark.
You’re just as nervous as before, but Rhett keeps his head this time. He’s not a boy masquerading as a man this time; he’s older, smarter, has more experience. Three years ago, Rhett only had a handful of sexual encounters to his repertoire—a handful of disappointing moments, drunken rendezvous with girls from high school, a couple of flings. Nothing deep or meaningful.
He smooths his hands over your arms, then reaches up and cups your face. He studies you a moment, takes in the unsteady way you’re breathing. You’re his oldest and dearest friend, and he feels a weird twinge in his chest. He chalks it up to nervousness on his part, but he’ll wonder later if perhaps it is love.
“Okay?” he asks, and you nod.
He bends his head and kisses you, and it’s the same as before. You’re tentative with each other, but you warm up to him quickly: you kiss him back, tease at him with a shy little sweep of your tongue, and when he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, you’re right there—sighing against him, sinking your teeth lightly into his lower lip before you suck against it.
You must have kissed, at least, in college. You’re better at it now. The thought should encourage him—he won’t be your only experience—but he feels an odd wash of jealousy. He pictures you making out with someone better than him, better looking and smarter and on track to being more successful.
He takes it as slow as you need. He lets you set the pace. He strips you out of your clothing, and he allows you to strip him out of his, and you don’t cringe from him this time. It’s likely because it’s dark outside; Rhett can’t see much, but you feel amazing under his searching hands, soft and warm. When he trails his fingertips over your bare skin, he feels how you break out in goosebumps, and he marvels at how sensitive you are.
Rhett’s learned a lot in the intervening years. He’s no longer an eighteen year-old fumbling through sexual interludes. He has a better understanding of women. He spends a long moment stretched out beside you in the bed of his truck, working his fingers into your tight heat, feeling how wet you get as he eases you into this. He pushes one finger, then a second. He scissors them inside you, feels the slick muscles of your core push back against him.
“Just relax,” he whispers against your neck, and he kisses you there. He feels your pulse under his lips, and he nuzzles against you, takes in the scent of your skin. A moment later, he feels you relax a fraction, the tight grip on his fingers released just a bit.
He can feel you relax more as he kisses you, as he fingers you. You’re warming up to the moment, pushing past whatever insecurities you have. The setting helps, he thinks. It’s not some anonymous hotel room with beige carpeting and the faint scent of old secondhand smoke. It’s outside, the open range of your home that you love so much. A waning moon and a million stars burn above you. It must be a million times more magical than a three-star hotel by the interstate exit.
It's certainly better for him. It takes him no time at all to get hard, even if he’s nervous. You’re his oldest, dearest friend, and he’s never thought of you as a woman, really. He’s never considered you as a sexual being, so it’s a revelation to see your naked body under the faint moonlight. It’s a revelation to touch you, to cup your breasts and to put his lips against your pebbled nipples, to grind his cock against your bare hip to relieve the tension that coils tight and hot in his belly.
Rhett stretches out on the bed roll. He fumbles for his discarded jeans, finds the foil packet. He scrambles to roll a condom onto himself, and then he encourages you to take charge, to take your first time into your own hands.
“You’re in charge,” he murmurs. He takes your hand, threads his fingers through yours. He tugs you towards him until your face is pressed near his, and he brushes his lips against yours. “Just like ridin’ a horse.”
You snort softly. “Am I gonna need a riding helmet for this?”
He grins up at you. “I won’t buck you off.”
He guides you as you straddle him, grasps the softness of your hips as you settle over him. He grips the base of his cock, gives himself a couple of strokes, then holds himself steady as you lower yourself, slide against his length, and even through the latex he can feel how warm you are.
Then you reach down and take him in hand, and it should feel weird, his best friend wrapping her fingers around his cock, but it doesn’t, and Rhett doesn’t question why because you may be a virgin but you understand the mechanics of this, and you notch the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. When you start to slowly lower yourself onto him, every blessed thought drains out of his head, and every bit of his attention focuses on where he’s entering you—the unbearably tight grip you have, the way your hands settle on his chest as you brace yourself. You take it slow—so goddamned slow—stilling, taking a breath, then pushing onwards.
When you’re settled onto him, when you’re sitting flush against him, Rhett breathes out a harsh, punched-out breath, and he asks if you’re okay. His voice is rough. His throat feels too dry. It feels unreal. His oldest, dearest friend, the girl he used make s’mores with and trade ghost stories with…you’re naked, you’re nodding at his question, you’re sitting on him, and his cock is buried in your depths. He’s just taken your virginity, and his throat feels too dry and too tight, and his brain struggles to think of the perfect thing to say to you, but your body starts to move above him and he never has a chance to say it.
Your rhythm is clumsy at first, too fast, too jerky. Rhett grasps your waist and guides you gently. He sets you in a slower, more even rhythm; you ride him steadily and you make the cutest little whimpers each time to settle back on him. Each time you do, the coil of tension in his lower belly tightens more, and Rhett breathes carefully to avoid coming too soon.
He slips one hand from your hip and reaches to where you’re joined to him. He finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he traces an infinity symbol there, around and ‘round with his thumb that makes those cute whimpers turn into outright moans. He senses that you’re holding back, but you’re in the middle of nowhere.
“No need to be quiet,” he tells you. “Lemme hear it, baby.”
You moan louder at that, the command or the sweet-talking nickname or both, and he notices that you start to pick up the pace, riding him faster, so he does the same—he rubs against your clit harder, faster, because he feels his own orgasm coming up fast at him. His balls feel heavy and taut, and he’s so damned close—
“C’mon, let go,” he growls, but his sedate passivity crumbles. He sits up underneath you, jerks a squeal from you as he sits up and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you closer to him, and the change in position grants him another quarter-inch into you, and it makes the base of his cock grind against your clit with each bounce in his lap.
“Let go,” he orders; he mumbles it against your lips. “I wanna feel you come, baby. Wanna feel you come for the first time,” he says, but when you open your mouth to respond, he kisses you, shoves his tongue into your panting mouth, licks against you as you whimper from deep in your throat.
Then he feels it. He feels it—the way your orgasm breaks through you, the hard snap of your hips as you arch against him, as your cunt grips him: your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your arms tight around his shoulders. You drop your head on his shoulder, and he feels your mouth there. You stifle the sounds of your pleasure against him, and he’d admonish you, but as your orgasm tears through you, he feels the sharp bite of your teeth into his skin, and it unlocks a kink Rhett never knew he had because the sting of pain is what makes the tension in him snap. He groans out your name, manages a shit—fuck—baby, then he comes too, ropes of his cum spilling in the condom as you tremble in his arms.
-----
In the end, Rhett Abbott claims your first time that night on the range, under the stars.
He gets your second time too, later that same night: him on top of you, you with your legs wrapped around him, making good use of the spare condom he brought along.
He gets your third time as well, the next day. It’s a quick moment, a bona fide quickie in the Abbott barn, the scent of clean hay and sweat as he bends you over the railing of an empty horse stall. He pulls out in plenty of time, pants as you turn around to grasp him and jerk him off the rest of the way, his cum spilling over your warm palm.
And your fourth time. He sneaks into your bedroom, and though your uncle is out of town for the night, Rhett still pretends you need to be quiet: he spoons you from behind, hikes your leg over his and slides into you. He breathes quietly as he fucks you gently, and he clasps a hand over your mouth as you come, and when your teeth nip into his calloused palm, he groans and comes too.
The next morning, your fifth time as you sit on the kitchen counter and wrap your legs around his ass as he drives into you.
Rhett never examines his feelings around it. When he’s alone—baling hay, fixing fences along the ranch parameter—he doesn’t let his thoughts ruminate over you too much. There’s a truth there, buried under all the sexual interludes and underneath all the shared history and hurt, but he doesn’t excavate it.
He only lets the facts stand. You’re his oldest, dearest friend. You are sexually compatible. End of story.
*****
You have plans to meet Rhett in town, at the bar. You’ve had a long day at your job, deworming a flock of sheep, and you smell terrible, so you stop home to shower and change your clothes. You stare at your closet critically; you’ve suffered for lack of a mother in your formative years. You don’t quite understand how to be a woman—you know there’s different lengths of skirts, for example, that work best depending on one’s height or shoes, but you’re damned if you know what those rules are.
Still, you want to look nice. You want to look nice for Rhett. Under torture, you’d probably admit it, but you can barely even admit it to yourself: you’re in love with him. You have been for a while. You loved him when you were children in that vague, puppyish way kids love each other. You loved him when you were in high school, pined from afar and moped over sad songs on the radio because he never looked your way.
And now here you are. Hope bubbles up in you from time to time, when you’re alone and considering what your future might hold. You always had a deep, bleak dread that you’d always be alone—sudden orphanhood can warp a psyche, you guess. But for the first time, you have tentative moments of hope.
You find a sundress, the cotton a little faded but in the low lights of the bar, no one should notice. You pull on a pair of strappy sandals. You dust your face and neck with some of your mother’s old luminating powder, and the scent of it makes a sharp blade of melancholy lance through you.
Then you drive into Wabang, and your stomach gets those fluttery butterflies as you park, slip your keys into your purse, and walk in.
It takes a moment to find him. He usually posts at the bar when he’s waiting for you, the door in his line of sight, but when you enter the din of the bar, he’s nowhere to be found. Maybe he found a buddy and is chatting with him. Maybe he’s in the bathroom.
If your hope bubbles up in you, effervescent, then your hope is easily popped when you find Rhett. He’s not in the bathroom and he hasn’t found a buddy, but he’s found Maria Olivares. The wayward dream girl has returned, and she’s as gorgeous as ever (she must understand skirt lengths, you guess), and her lovely face is tilted towards Rhett as she laughs at whatever he says. And worse, his handsome face is lit up like a damned Christmas tree, laughing too, and your hope is popped and burnt to the ground and the earth around it is salted because Rhett has never looked at you like that.
“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, and you turn on your heel and fast-walk out of the bar. The path back to your truck shimmers, wavers in front of you. You realize it’s because your eyes are full of tears, and when you realize it, they break free, start to course down your face.
“It’s okay,” you tell yourself, and you repeat it over and over: as you get into your truck, as you turn the ignition, as you peel out of the parking lot and as your tires throw up an arc of gravel. You repeat it like a mantra, and you fix your attention on the road. You drive home; you leave Rhett at the bar, and it’s a confirmation when he doesn’t text you until the next morning asking where you’ve been.
By then, though, you’re already halfway gone. It’s August, after all, and school is starting again soon, and leaving Wabang a few weeks early is easy enough.
#rhett abbott#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott imagine#outer range#tropes and tales#kinktober 2023
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#🫠#for my fellow back lovers#i have another one in the drafts as well .... 👀#rhett abbott#lewis pullman#my gifs
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you wanna fuck me right now
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If I speak
Do not repost without credit
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RHETT ABBOTT CODED
@delopsia @sebsxphia @rhettabbottscowgirl @rhettabbotts
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Waiting For The Sun
Masterlist
Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better.
But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.
Soulmate AU
(Banner made by @nurse-sainz )
Chapter One
Chapter Two
#rhett abbott#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott fluff#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott fic#rhett abbott oneshot#lewis pullman#lewis pullman imagine#lewis pullman x reader#outer range#outer range imagine#outer range x reader#outer range fanfiction
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