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freak-accident419 · 14 days ago

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knockin' on heaven's door

Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: The day after an intense, drunken argument with each other, you decided to cool down with Rhett by the lake to talk things out the proper way. As you both dwell on the time you first met, you finally confront the unspoken thing between you two. (Rhett Abbott x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/n, no pronouns for reader, no specific genitals mentioned for reader, penetration, oral (reader receiving), reader is implied to be a musician, sex by the lake pretty much, so public sex?, friends to lovers, your dogs are little shits (some silliness)

A/n: if you’re new to this account, hello! I strive to write gender-neutral reader fanfics to encourage the use of gender neutral language, usage, and pronouns in xReader fics! Inclusivity is important, especially in the year 2025 <3 having said that, I would love to use my platform to show it is possible to write in fics where gender does not play any (significant) role. Happy reading <33 reblogs and likes are much appreciated :)

Taglist: @pearlstiare @gryffindorquid-ditchcap-blog

A heavy sigh left your lips as you shut your eyes softly, the gentle wind blowing towards your skin and the nearby trees. You felt grounded through your slow breaths, sitting above a cloth blanket that separated yourself from the muck surface. You've never felt such tranquility and peace in a long time.

Instantly, however, you were brought back to the earth, feeling an object fall lightly onto your knee. In your cross-legged position, your eyes shot open, finding that the object was a stick that your dog had dropped to continue his exhilarating game of fetch. Huffing, you grabbed the slender trunk and threw it in the water to entertain him, watching him sprint towards it after.

Last night was exhausting. It shouldn't have even happened, but it just did.

You got into a stupid argument with your close friend, Rhett. You knew him for several years, as he was one of the first people you met when you moved to Amelia County, and yet you still couldn't get used to his daunting idiocy. He was even more stupid when drunk, which he had been the previous evening. The verbal fight ended bitterly, as you gave up on explaining yourself, feeling burnt out.

You felt like you needed a break from everything, which impelled you to find solace in nature. You could tell that Rhett needed it too. Therefore, you casually proposed this idea, also prompted to bring your dog, Leo, and Rhett's dog, Stu. Those two mutts somehow got along with each other more than you and him would.

The sky was slowly transforming into a muddy blue as you two had only just arrived at the lake by dusk. Moments passed by then, but the two of you barely spoke to each other since you first got here; just silently setting up the blanket and beers, engaging with the dogs, and lighting cigarettes.

He still sat beside you, though. He wasn't angry with you, but neither were you angry with him.

After taking a mellow drag of his cigarette, Rhett extinguished the silence with his western twang. "I'm sorry," he mutters, exhaling the misty smoke.

Your ears perk up at the sound of his apology, turning your head to look at him. His eyes never looked at yours yet, as they remained onto the glassy lake.

Stubbornly, you asked, "for what?"

Rhett shook his head. "You know what."

He finally turned his head to face you, his soft, dark eyes looking into yours. "I was being a drunk asshole last night," he elaborated shamefully. "I shouldn't've snapped at you like that. It was unnecessary."

You couldn't muster up the courage to prolong the eye contact with him, looking down as you knew you were guilty too.

"Well, I just made things worse," you sigh, throwing the stick again once Leo fetched it. "I knew it would've upset you, but I kept rambling on anyway."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place," he reasons, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, but you were drunk, so I only elevated things by arguing back instead of being mature."

Rhett suddenly scoffs with a grin of levity. "Well, would you look at that?” He comments instantly, “We seem to be arguin' with each other once again.” You two looked at each other for a split second before chuckling it off, smiling at the issue rather than scowling.

His dog, Stu, moved to lay down beside you on the blanket. Your palm met his smooth, fluffy coat, petting him idly.

"To be honest," you huff under your breath, "I totally forgot what we were arguing about last night."

Rhett snickers, amused by your confession. "At least I have an excuse for not remembering. Weren't you sober?"

Your shoulders shrugged as you let out a faint snicker. "Well, that’s just how forgettable that stupid argument was."

You both felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders once you talked it out, releasing the tension between you two. After all, you've always had a friendship built on mutual understandings, which was one of the things that made you work well together.

For the next few minutes, you two were just sitting with each other quietly, hearing the hushed chirps of the crickets and the two dogs now roughhousing close by the lakefront. It was a comfortable silence nonetheless, as you found Rhett's sole presence soothing.

"Do you, uh," he began roughly, nodding towards you as he fidgeted with his fingers, "do you remember how we first met?"

You chuckled breathily, shaking your head. "How could I ever forget?"

He grins at your response. "You were just... playing your guitar at The Handsome Gambler like always..." Rhett described the moment as if it happened just yesterday. When you first moved here, a full-time job just wasn't enough for you to thrive on, and so you entered the gig economy, playing live music at the local bar.

"Then this asshole," he continues with an eager smirk, "he, uh... You were playing... what was it...?"

You remembered that night like the back of your hand. "Knockin' On Heaven's Door,” you two ended up saying at the same time with a shared smile.

"Right," he says pleasantly. "Well, this asshole, he begins to just... heckle you, you know? For what—‘butchering’ a Bob Dylan song with your version? Anyways, I just... I couldn't just sit there and watch you get criticized by this dickwad, so I..." He playfully gestured a punch in the air.

"Hey, you beat him up hard," you laugh, remembering the scene quite fondly. "I was scared he wasn't going to be able to get up!"

"He deserved it," Rhett sneers pridefully. "But I was drunk too, so that probably… y’know, made me more aggressive… Hm, and then what? You bring me ice for my knuckles and thank me for it?"

"Yeah," you nod, confirming what happened right after the fight. You smiled to yourself as you thought about the memory, until a curious consideration came across your mind. "Hey, I always wondered... You barely knew me at the time. Yet you defended me like that. And you didn't come out of that fight unharmed either—you knew you were going to get bruised too. So... why did you do it?"

Rhett was slightly taken aback, not expecting that question, nor prepared with an answer. He took off his cowboy hat thoughtfully, setting it aside on the ground as he ran his hand through his tamed hair. "I dunno. I just... I've been around that bar several times. Saw you play the moment you first arrived, and then every other night since then. I always enjoyed your performances. Kinda felt protective when that son of a bitch started talking shit. Plus, I really liked your take on the song. It felt… original. Sounded nice. You know, I’ve always loved your playing before you stopped with the gigs.”

“Really?” You smiled wistfully, appreciating his attentiveness for you. "Well, I'm still forever grateful for what you did. And I mean, I was still going to play regardless of that guy, but... it meant a lot to me at that time."

You both looked at each other warmly. If you had to be honest with yourself, you would admit that your friendship with Rhett wasn't as simple or typical like others. There was this underlying feeling of admiration and affection that fell towards a more intimate tone rather than friendly. Of course, you two were close friends before anything, but you couldn't deny the romantic tension between you two.

As stated before, your friendship was built through mutual understandings. There was no doubt that you two knew your feelings might've been reciprocated.

You had been through a lot together. After meeting him many years back in that bar, you were still very close to him now. You were always there for him, from his failed bull rides to the recent disappearance of his sister-in-law, and he was there for you at your lowest moments, be it your financial struggles or awful past.

"You, um... You mean a lot to me," you mutter hesitantly, adding on to your previous statement. You looked up into his irises, which seemed to resemble a hauntingly beautiful cyclone, convinced you were drowning in them due to apparent breathlessness.

Frankly, the two of you were sick of this unspoken thing between one another. You knew there was something there, something more, but none of you had the guts to do anything about it. Right now, however, it finally felt right to just try.

Rhett's breath shivered as his eyes bored into yours, feeling his heart swell at your words. Hesitantly, his hand went up to cup the side of your face, feeling your soft cheek in his palm. Naturally, you leaned into his touch, blinking slowly as your breathing matched his.

And suddenly, you felt his lips meet yours, pressing a soft, gentle kiss against them, instantly feeling a blissful sense of euphoria throughout your body. All those years of tension and close calls, and you finally had him.

It was a brief kiss as you two looked at each other coyly, unable to stop grinning like the idiots you were.

Eagerly, your hands cupped his face as you kiss him again, feeling his hands grab your waist as it became more ardent than before. The kiss itself wasn’t at a fast pace, yet deeper compared to your first. His lips moved with yours fervently, fingers slipping under your shirt to feel your stomach and waist. His touch explored your ribs and your chest, fingernails lightly dragging over the skin so ticklishly. It was a new sensation, feeling the hands that belonged to Rhett’s touch you like this, feel your body like this.

Rhett became rougher, slipping his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. His hand under your shirt moved to your back, his palm cupping your spine as he rubbed your skin. Then, he moved his fingers to the hem of your shirt, eager to undress you. After lifting it over your head and throwing it off somewhere, he laid you down on the blanket, attaching his lips to your neck. You laughed delightfully at the action, indulging in the fact that you would finally have him like this, knowing that he adored you the same way you adored him.

He pulled away briefly, sitting up to remove his shirt, then laid back down on top of you, kissing you once more. His gentle palms continued to explore your warm skin, trailing from your stomach, to your chest, then back down to your waist. He worshipped your bare torso in awe, taking advantage of the privilege of seeing you shirtless like this. Your body was addicting and he was desperate to keep feeling you against him.

“I’ve waited,” he muttered huskily in between slow kisses, “so damn... long for this.”

With his face back in your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin, he fumbled with your belt. His skilled fingers worked to unbuckle it as he kissed you, unzipping your pants after and dragging them down. Once the article of clothing came off, his lips dragged down your sternum to your lower stomach, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. He glances at you for a second with arousal and appeal before hooking his thumbs under the elastic, slowly dragging the cloth down your legs.

You felt the cold air hit your exposed warmth as the thin fabric made its way from your knees to your ankles, until Rhett finally slid it off your feet. He moved his head between your legs, hands resting on your hips. He began to nip at your thighs sensually, switching between your two legs as he would inch his way up your inner thighs. You shivered lightly at the feeling, his eyes gazing intensely into yours before his mouth began to work on you.

You gasped and flinched at the feeling of his tongue against your core, letting out a quiet moan as your eyelids grew heavy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pinning them to the ground after your legs merely trembled at the sensation. He slowly yet passionately licked at your most sensitive parts, prolonging the eye contact as he tasted your flesh.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging it lightly in pleasure as he continued with his movements, closing his lips around you. More whimpers left your mouth, feeling confident you were going to reach your orgasm through this. That was until he pulled away with a smirk, you whining at the loss of his touch as he quickly got out of his jeans. Throwing it to the side, he slipped his boxers off, letting his length spring free.

Seeing him naked above you stirred a new, indescribable feeling of arousal in yourself. Watching the man you’ve adored for years prep your body for him to take.

“You ready?” He mumbles, looking down at you for your confirmation.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah.”

Rhett’s hands propped himself up against the blanket, hovering above you to see your face. As his cock slowly pushed through your entrance, his lips parted slightly, opening his mouth in awe of the feeling. The further he moved into you, he had stretched your inner walls until his hips met yours. The two of you let out a satisfied moan once he was fully sheathed inside of you, your tightness bringing him immense pleasure.

Rhett couldn’t believe he was taking you right now. He’s wanted you for so long, and now, you were finally his.

With a short peck against your lips, Rhett began to thrust in and out at a steady pace. He didn’t want to go too fast so soon, as he was just indulging in the feeling of your body around him. Just knowing it was you he was making love with had spurred him on. He’s never felt so good before.

“Fuck!” You cry out once he decided to increase his pace. With each thrust, his cock caressed your fleshy insides, him letting out low grunts with every movement. His gentle, warm hands moved down your sides until they reached your thighs. Firmly gripping onto the flesh, he wrapped your legs around his waist to fuck you in a much closer position.

Soon, the sounds of him ramming into your body echoed louder throughout the quiet lake as the lewd, wet noise of skin slapping against skin filled your ears. You whined softly at the gratifying feeling of him pounding into you like this.

Your hands moved to cup his face, trying to kiss his lips as much as you could while he thrusted his hips. The moment became more intimate as you poured your deep affection for him into the kiss, only for it to not last as long, due to your persistent moaning.

“Oh, Rhett… Mmm…” you whimper, closing your legs tighter around him to push him in deeper. One of his hands left your thigh to reach for your palm, interlocking his fingers with yours next to your head. Rhett groaned as his eyes briefly closed shut, his pace getting quicker, motivated by the beautiful sounds escaping your lips.

“God, you feel too good,” he mumbles hotly, continuing to penetrate you as he reached down to nibble your neck. Rhett's moans were loud and feverish, nearly drooling in his mouth from the pleasant feeling of your body.

However, the blissful moment was ruined when you hear your dog barking in your ear.

”Fuck,” you huff, frustrated by the interruption while Rhett felt prompted to continue his motions, regardless of the circumstance, “go away, Leo.”

Your dog whined at you, continuing to yelp, in which Rhett couldn’t help but laugh, his thrusts faltering. “Leo, git!” You pant, trying to push his scrunched face away with your hand.

Rhett’s movements inside you came to a subtle halt as he chuckled softly at the circumstance. “He wants you to throw it,” he snickers.

You turned your head to see a new stick that your border collie brought you. “Yeah, I know,” you sigh, grabbing the stick as you looked at Rhett’s grin, unamused. Finally, you threw it far, adjacent to the other dog by the lake, hoping the two would go back to being occupied with each other.

“Damnit, that is such a mood killer,” you scoff, looking back at the snarky cowboy above you.

“Yeah, we probably should’ve done this back at your place,” he says with a teasing smirk.

“Well, you’re the one who decided to do this here,” you retort.

”And we’re only here because you brought us here,” he raises an eyebrow, chuckling.

He had a point. “Oh, shut up.”

After an affectionate giggle, Rhett’s lips kisses yours again slowly, in a rhythm that no song could ever surpass. He angled his head to kiss you deeply, gradually beginning to thrust into you again with his hardened length. You moaned, feeling his cock rubbing your flesh once again, moving in and out. For now, his movements had been slow, focusing on the pleasure his body brought you.

Rhett’s hands left your fingers and thigh, hooking his arms under yours to grip the back of your shoulders. This allowed him to thrust faster, his hips finally rolling rapidly into yours. “Oh, fuck!” You whine at the powerful new pace. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

Rhett moaned with you shamelessly, mouth gaping in pleasured wonder. “You’re so damn beautiful, you’ve always been so fucking beautiful,” he rambled under his breath, kissing your lips sloppily, “cum with me, sweetheart, come on.”

Before a coherent word could leave your mouth, a loud, long moan escaped your throat once you came intensely. As your walls clenched amorously around his girth, Rhett spilled his warm, white semen inside of you, groaning as he kept himself in that deep position.

You both panted heavily, catching your breaths as Rhett collapsed on top of you, his sweaty, bare chest pressed against yours. A lazy grin appeared on his face, peppering light kisses on your neck.

You didn’t want him to pull out yet, but you knew he had to, whining softly at the loss of his warmth once he did. His dark, gentle eyes were fixed on yours as they had the entire night, cupping your face for another doting kiss.

Rhett’s lips pressed against yours passionately, tasting you once again with both affection and lust. After the short gesture, the two of you lay there, comfortably naked by the lake, as it might as well have been the Garden of Eden. You looked at each other tenderly, as there wasn’t enough words to describe your affections towards one another.

Your head rested on Rhett’s heaving chest, idly tracing his tattoo with your fingertips. You knew you would eventually have to get dressed and get back home, but you gave rein in the pleasure of this particular moment.

It simply felt like heaven.

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prettysexycoolgirl · 1 year ago

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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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springseventeen · 1 year ago

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Lewis Pullman as Rhett Abbott Outer Range • S2.E3

#he looks so damn good #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman #rhett #springseventeengifs

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em1i2a3 · 7 days ago

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Purple Lace Bra

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhett just wanted to try out the new bar in town, and he bites off more than he can chew when his eyes settle on you.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut…Of course…And Swearing…Of course lol And a hot cowboy, because yeeeeehawwww and hawwwwwyeeeeee!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (risky behaviour here), Fingering, Handjob (ish?), little rough, a bit of hair pulling, some dirty talk, and breastplay.

Author’s Note: Alright guys, I heard you I heard you, and I decided to take a stab at writing for Rhett. I’m hoping it meets expectations. Fingers crossed! Enjoy though!

Word Count: 8,998

The bar was new.

That much was obvious from the second Rhett stepped inside.

It didn’t have that worn-in, lived-through, broken-down charm most places in Wabang wore like a badge. No warped floorboards swollen with spilled beer and questionable stains older than some of the patrons. No cigarette burns crusted into the lacquer of every tabletop. No cracked vinyl barstools or hand-carved initials sunk deep into the counters. No grit under your fingernails just from leaning against the wall.

Everything in here was intentional.

Dark walnut paneling framed exposed red brick, and the floors–still scuff-free–glowed under the dim warmth of amber-tinted Edison bulbs hanging from long black cords. The air was thick with sawdust and varnish, freshly cured wood layered beneath the heavier scents of whiskey, fried grease, perfume, and sweat. Someone had poured a hell of a lot of money into making the place feel like a dream of a saloon.

And it was packed.

It was too many people for a Wednesday night, if you asked him. Locals mixing uneasily with out-of-towners in freshly bought boots. Girls in fringed skirts and lips gloss laughing too loudly. Guys leaning on pool cues like props, flexing flannel sleeves that didn’t have a day’s work on them. Music buzzed low from overhead speakers–something twangy but radio-polished, not nearly enough slide guitar to be worth a damn.

He stepped in slowly, one hand pushing the door open with that unhurried, deliberate motion he never lost–boots hitting the threshold with purpose. The scent hit him first. It wasn’t just alcohol or fryer grease, but the sharp undertone of new.

Rhett’s eyes scanned the room from under the shadow of his hat. He tugged at the brim slightly–a reflex more than anything–and felt the familiar weight of the stares he got in places like this.

He didn’t dress like the others. His boots were worn down with real scuffs and creases from a hard day's work. His jeans hung soft and broken–in, and his button-down was plain, with sleeves pushed up and frayed at the cuffs. Technically he looked like a man who belonged there, but the crowd was definitely not for it.

He made his way to the bar slowly, easing up between a group of college kids and a woman wearing heels way too tall for gravel parking lots. He nodded once to the bartender–young, slick, and clean–and ordered a beer without looking at the menu.

Then he heard it.

That mechanical groan–a low hydraulic hiss followed by the whump of rubber matting and the screech of excitement from somewhere in the back corner of the room.

Rhett’s brows lifted at the noise, and angled himself just enough to see it: a mechanical bull, spot lit and surrounded by a padded floor, ropes separating it from the tables like it was some kind of goddamn spectacle. People were gathered around it with drinks in hand, watching like they were at a sideshow–waiting for someone to get thrown. Rhett stared at the thing like it might come alive and charge through the room.

He exhaled through his nose–half sigh, half scoff–and felt the faint sting of amusement press behind his eyes. What the hell were they trying to be in here?

The bartender slid a bottle across the bar top with a practiced hand.

Rhett caught it without looking, fingers curling around the neck, and brought it to his lips. The beer was cold, too crisp, almost too clean. Like everything else in the damn place.

He let his shoulders settle, jaw ticking once, then let his gaze wander–across the room, over the padded mat where a guy in a pearl-snap shirt was still arguing about whether or not he could “last a full ride,” past the mirror-backed shelves of overpriced whiskey, and toward the booth tucked along the far wall.

That’s when he saw you.

You were tucked into a half-moon booth with two other girls–both of them already tipsy, leaning close, wide grins on their gloss-slicked mouths. You had one elbow on the table, a mixed drink in your hand, laughing at something one of them said, your head tipped back just slightly.

Something about the curve of your throat caught the light. Your hair was wind blown, and a few loose strands framed your face nicely. Your boots were crossed beneath the table, and the denim on your legs looked like it had actually been worn instead of picked out of a catalog, and the tight white tank top you wore had definitely pulled his eyes in even further.

You didn’t look like the others.

Didn’t talk too loud. Didn’t fidget. Didn’t scan the room trying to be seen.

But Rhett was seeing you anyway. Every damn inch.

He took another sip of beer and tilted his head slightly intrigued. He had not seen you before, at least that’s what he assumed as you didn’t look familiar, nor did you look like a local.

Your friends were egging you on–he could tell. They leaned in closer, nudging your shoulders, gesturing toward the bull with wild eyes and laughing mouths. You shook your head at first, lips pressed together in a mock “no way,” but then they pushed a little harder. One of them slid out of the booth to tug on your wrist while the other started clapping and cheering. You gave your friend a look–part exasperation, part warning–but the corners of your mouth were already curling into a smile.

Rhett saw the exact moment your resistance cracked. The way you tipped your drink back for one last sip, slid it across the table, and stood–unhurried, unrushed, like you were indulging them, but on your own terms. You pushed your hair out of your face, and adjusted the hem of your tank top before stepping out of the booth completely.

You weren’t trying to get anyone’s attention, but you already had his, and he couldn’t bear to look away.

Your stride through the crowd wasn’t cocky–it was confident. Like you didn’t need to prove anything. You weaved between tables, boots thudding softly against the polished floor, hips swaying with a rhythm that was natural to you. The overhead lights caught the glow of your skin, the edge of your collarbone, the gentle sheen of sweat on your throat.

Rhett’s lips parted slightly around the mouth of his beer, almost like he was enchanted by you and the way you carried yourself.

You crossed into the roped-off section with one hand lightly grazing the padding, you nodded once at the guy operating the bull, and pulled yourself up onto the platform like you’d done it a dozen times.

Hell, maybe you had.

The crowd started to cheer again–louder this time. People leaned in, trying to look over others shoulders. You didn’t even flinch. You turned your back to them, adjusted the rope with practiced ease, and swung one leg up and over the smoothness that Rhett felt in his chest.

You settled into the saddle like it belonged to you. There were no nervous glances. No wobbly balance checks. Just a shift of your hips, a flex of your thighs, and a subtle roll of your shoulders as your hands found their hold–one gripping the rope, the other resting lightly on your thigh.

Rhett’s gaze didn’t waver. He took another slow sip of his beer, the bottle cool in his palm, but he barely tasted it. He was too busy watching you.

The way you sat up there–easy, unshaken, comfortable like it wasn’t your first time–made something slow and solid settle in his chest. You didn’t look like someone pretending to be brave. You looked like someone who didn’t need to pretend at all.

Your spine was straight, but not stiff. Every part of you looked grounded. Controlled, and goddamn was it attractive.

Rhett couldn’t picture you on a real bull–didn’t want to, not really–but there was a part of him that figured you’d probably hold your own just fine. Maybe not from experience, but from that glint in your eye. That natural, unshakable calm.

The operator adjusted a dial, and you gave a short nod, like you were bored of waiting.

Rhett tilted his head, eyes tracking the slow movement of your fingers tightening around the rope. Your hand adjusted just right so you had good tension, and then your other arm lifted, loose but ready.

The bull kicked forward, and you didn’t flinch one bit. You moved.

It was immediate. Like you were built for the rhythm of it. Your body rolled forward, then back, countering every lurch of the machine like instinct. Your legs flexed tight, hips following each twist with unhurried precision. The movement pulled your tank tight across your chest, your shoulder muscles taut with focus. But your face–your mouth, your eyes–remained easy. You were enjoying this.

That made it worse for him in the most consuming way possible.

People around him were cheering now, laughing, calling out, whistling–but it was all background noise to Rhett. His knuckles tensed around the neck of the bottle, barely aware of it.

You were the only thing in the room.

He felt like he was watching something private. Like the way you moved wasn’t for the crowd–but maybe, maybe, it was for someone. For the one person paying real attention.

And when your eyes flicked up mid-spin, and landed squarely on his–Rhett’s breath felt like it was pushed out of his lungs.

You looked at him like you’d known exactly where he was standing the whole time.

And when you smiled–just barely, just enough–he felt it deep in his ribs.

That wasn’t an accident.

That was intentional.

The bull jerked again–harder this time, testing your grip–and Rhett swallowed, slow and thick.

Because you didn’t break.

You leaned into the movement, hips shifting forward, then back, chest arching ever so slightly with the roll of the machine. Your tank rode up just enough to show a strip of skin–taut and warm under the lights–and the sweat starting to build at the back of your neck shimmered like gold dust.

You didn’t wince. You grinned.

You were in control.

Every second of it.

Rhett was breathing through his nose now, jaw tight, the bottle sweating in his grip, untouched. His pulse pounded in his neck, heat climbing slowly beneath his collar, across his chest, and lower.

Watching you ride wasn’t just impressive–it was devastating.

You moved like you knew exactly what it looked like. What it did to the men watching. To him.

And if you didn’t? That was somehow worse. Because your body, the rhythm in it, the way your hips met the motion of the bull like you were answering it–it felt less like performance and more like instinct.

Rhett’s mouth was dry.

He cleared his throat, quiet, subtle, but it didn’t help. His gaze dropped to your thighs, flexed tight around the saddle, your back arched and rocking in time, the tension in your arms, the control in your shoulders–

Jesus Christ.

His hand slid along the bar behind him, like he needed something to brace against. His boots stayed planted, body tight with the kind of energy that didn’t have anywhere to go. Heat crawled up the back of his neck, behind his ears. He took another drink out of pure habit–but the beer barely registered on his tongue.

You didn’t look away from him again.

But you didn’t have to.

You’d already seen him. Already snared him.

And the longer the ride went on, the harder it got to breathe.

The bull picked up speed. Your body snapped harder into the motion. Every line of you sang with tension–coiled and lit and burning–and Rhett swore he felt it like touch.

His skin prickled.

You were panting now, chest rising and falling, heat blooming across your cheeks. But your eyes stayed calm, your mouth open just enough to draw breath between your teeth, and your thighs didn’t loosen once.

Rhett’s heart was hammering now. Low in his chest. Down in his gut. He shifted against the bar without meaning to, jaw clenched tight, thighs tense, every inch of him drawn like wire.

It wasn’t just want.

It was need.

Not to touch. Not yet.

Just to keep watching.

To see how long you’d let him sit there with that heat curling through his stomach, with sweat at the back of his neck, with his breath caught behind his teeth while you made it all look effortless.

And then–mercifully, murderously–the buzzer sounded.

The bull slowed.

You took the last few seconds of movement with a slow, rolling ease–like letting go of control wasn’t something you did all at once.

When the machine finally stilled, you swung one leg back over the side and hopped down to the mat.

Rhett had to physically stop himself from stepping forward.

Because you landed like you were still riding. Like you still had the momentum in your blood. Hair stuck to your temples. Shoulders glowing. Chest rising and falling with short, slow breaths. You were glistening, flushed, lips parted like your body was still half-there.

You smiled.

And then–God help him–you looked at him again.

A breathless, wicked little thing that told him you knew.

You knew what watching you had done to him.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and stepped out of the roped area, crossing the floor toward the bar like you weren’t leaving a trail of heat in your wake.

You didn’t rush.

Didn’t even glance his way at first.

You just stepped up to the bar–right beside him–like it was the most natural thing in the world, and rested your elbows on the counter. Close enough that his shoulder caught the warmth still radiating off your skin. Close enough that he could smell it–you–sweat and juniper perfume and cherry lip gloss. The heady, breath-stealing aftermath of adrenaline and heat.

Rhett didn’t dare move, he didn’t even turn his head. But his eyes flicked down just once, and that was enough. Because up close, now that the sweat had soaked a little deeper into the cotton of your tank, it had slipped ever-so-slightly lower. And just right on the border, where the neckline dipped, he could see it…

Purple lace. Delicate, scalloped. The edge of your bra, soft and feminine and barely visible, peeking like a secret just for him.

His throat worked around a swallow, and he looked away immediately, heat climbing behind his ears. He could feel the tips of them burning beneath his hat.

The bartender approached and you leaned forward, forearms resting against the word.

”Red Russian please,” You said, voice low and easy–honeyed but sharp at the edges. You didn’t have to raise it. He heard every syllable as it slid off your tongue. The bartender gave you a nod and turned away to make the drink.

You leaned a bit, just enough to shift your weight toward him, and without looking, without needing to, you let your voice slide between you and Rhett like silk laced in smoke.

”So…You always stare like that, or was I just particularly inspiring tonight?” Your head turned, slowly, and you looked up at him from beneath your lashes. Rhett’s breath caught–he felt it. Right there in his chest. Like someone had knocked a fist into his sternum and told him not to react.

He brought his eyes to yours like he couldn’t stop himself. They were darker than they’d been a moment ago, lit with something low and burning–lust maybe.

“I…” He swallowed, licking his dry lips, “Wasn’t starin’. Just–watchin’, I guess.” You hummed, amused, the curve of your lips tugging into something sly, but you held his gaze.

“There’s a difference?” His lashes fluttered at you, as you watched the faint pink blush rise to his cheeks just above the stubble that sat neatly on his face. His grip on the neck of the bottle tightened slightly. His voice was low–gravelly and warm when it finally came.

”Yeah,” He replied, “One’s rude. The other’s…Real hard to stop.” You smiled at his response.

”Mm, guess I oughta be flattered then.” Your drink arrived moments later–blood red in colour, topped with a cherry–which gave you something to fiddle with, “You always this good at compliments or am I just bringin’ out the Southern charm?” That made something flicker behind his eyes. A soft huff left him–almost a laugh, but not quite–and the tension in his shoulders finally shifted. Rhett moved, just barely, letting his elbow rest against the bar now–getting closer. His fingers traced the condensation sliding down the neck of his bottle, but his gaze didn’t leave you. He let the silence settle thick between you, then answer, voice smooth as aged whiskey and just as dangerous.

”Could say it’s the charm.” He drawled, slow and sure, “But the truth is, darlin’, I think it’s just you.” You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you turned your attention to the drink in front of you–blood-red and glinting beneath the low amber lights–lifting it to your lips with an ease that was all confidence and quiet command. You sipped slowly, just enough to stain your mouth with something sweet and strong , then set the glass back down with a gentle clink.

Rhett’s eyes dropped to your lips again, like he hadn’t meant to, like they just drew him in without permission.

And then–without ceremony–you plucked the cherry from the top of your drink, and held it by the stem between your two fingers before bringing it to your mouth.

You kept eye contact the entire time, as you pulled the fruit off it’s anchor.

The cherry disappeared behind your lips, the stem left dangling between your fingers as your jaw moved with delicate precision, tongue flicking behind your cheeks. You chewed slowly, swallowed gently, then licked a faint smear of juice from the corner of your mouth–soft and languid.

Rhett shifted in place, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. The slight roll of his shoulders, the way his hand tightened around the bottle, the flare of heat at the base of his throat. You were doing this to him. Every second of it. And he was letting you.

Hell–he was begging for it.

You let the empty stem drop gently to your cocktail napkin and leaned in just a breath closer, your voice a low, syrupy hum between the two of you.

“So if I’m the reason,” You said, “Guess I should know what to call the man I’m inspirin’.”That made something flicker through him. Not just lust now—but interest. Real interest.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing just a touch like he was working out the puzzle of you in real time. And then–finally–he offered you a hand.

Calloused. Warm. Strong fingers, broad palm, veins faintly raised from years of real work. The kind of hand that looked like it could break you apart or hold you like something sacred.

“Rhett,” He said, voice like gravel and molasses. “Rhett Abbott.” You took his hand into yours, giving it a gentle shake. Your touch was soft, but firm. Full of intention, just like the rest of you.

Your thumb grazed the back of his hand once before you replied.

”Nice to meet you, Rhett Abbott,” You said, your voice curling around his name like sheer silk, “I’m Y/N.”

God help him, hearing his name come out of your mouth like that–low and smooth, like it tasted good–did something to him. Something sharp and hot that settled just behind his rib cage.

You still hadn’t let go of his hand. You held it just long enough for the pad of your thumb to trace that one shallow callous on the base of his thumb. Just long enough to let the quiet stretch between you with thick implication.

When you finally released him, it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was because you’d already said enough with the way you touched him

Rhett cleared his throat, but his fingers curled slightly like they missed yours already. His eyes raked over your face once–then lower. Over the hollow of your throat, the curve of your shoulder, the edge of that purple lace he’d clocked earlier still flirting with the neckline of your tank. He didn’t look long. It was already burned into his brain.

”Y/N,” He repeated, slowly, “Pretty name.”

“Reckon I like how you say it.” Rhett smirked at that. Barely. Just a ghost of one tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it was real. Like you’d teased it out of him. You turned a little more toward him then, resting your arm along the bar, letting your knee knock against his under the counter. Light. Barely there. But enough to make his spine straighten just a little. Like you’d touched something electric.

Your knee stayed where it was–brushed lightly against his beneath the bar–but your body shifted just a little more, leaning into his space like the air between you wasn’t already thick with heat. You rested your weight on one elbow and brought your drink to your lips again, letting the edge of the glass kiss your mouth in a way that made his jaw tick. He followed the movement like he was starved for it.

You swallowed, set the glass down, and tilted your head just enough to let your hair fall over your shoulder–like an invitation disguised as casual comfort.

“You always watch that close,” You murmured, voice low and honey-slick, “Or was that just ‘cause I was the one up there tonight?”

Rhett’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip, and his gaze flicked from your mouth to your eyes and back again. His voice, when it came, was a little rougher. A little deeper. Like heat had sanded it down.

“Oh, that was definitely just you,” He said, that slow drawl curling around the words like smoke. “Ain’t never seen someone ride like that and look so damn calm doin’ it. Thought you were gonna break that bull’s heart.”

You laughed–low, warm, right against the rim of your glass. “Poor thing didn’t stand a chance.”

He leaned in then, just enough that you could feel his breath brush your cheek. Just enough that your knees bumped again beneath the bar and stayed there.

“Neither did I,” He said, voice like gravel dipped in sugar. “Not the way you moved up there. All control. Like you weren’t ridin’ it–you were taming it.”

You glanced at him then–sideways, coy–and your lashes fluttered as you reached for your cherry stem again, turning it slowly between your fingers.

“I like the fight,” you said, soft and easy. “Like seeing how long I can last. Pushing just hard enough to keep it under me without ever losin’ control.”

Rhett’s eyes dropped to your fingers, to the cherry stem twisting like it meant something. Then to your lips. Then your thighs.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, “I noticed.”

You leaned in just a little more, your shoulder grazing his, your thigh now pressed warm and steady to his beneath the bar. Your voice dropped with it–silk-wrapped and scorching.

“You watchin’ for technique, or just lettin’ your mind wander?”

Rhett’s breath caught. You could feel it–the heat rolling off him like summer rising off a blacktop. His hand flexed around the beer bottle again, but this time, he didn’t look away.

“Little of both,” He admitted. “Hard to focus on much else when you’re movin’ like that. All rhythm and fire and…” His eyes dragged down your body, slow and reverent, before landing right back on your mouth. “Hell. You knew exactly what you were doin’.”

You gave him a smile then. Slow and wicked.

“Maybe,” You whispered, dragging your finger through the condensation on your glass again. “But I liked the way you looked at me. Like you didn’t know whether to get on your knees or run for your life.”

That made Rhett laugh–quiet, breathless, and a little strained. He leaned back just a touch, but it wasn’t to retreat. It was to restrain. Like he was keeping himself in check with the last thread of composure he had left.

“I’m still tryin’ to decide,” He said, voice thick, jaw tight. “But you keep talkin’ like that, and I might not have much choice left.”

You reached out and touched his wrist then–light, fleeting. But it landed like a thunderclap. His skin burned under your fingertips.

“Good,” You whispered. “I like when they break a little.”

He stared at you. Eyes dark. Body tense. The air between you so tight it felt like the whole bar might collapse under it.

And when he spoke next, his voice was low. Dangerous.

“Truck’s parked right out back.”

Your smile grew slow and hot.

”Then finish your drink, cowboy,” You purred, “So I can show you what else I’m good at ridin’.” The moment the words left your mouth, low and laced in sin, something sharp flickered in his eyes–something hot and immediate. His hand flexed once more around the neck of the bottle, and without a word, he lifted it to his lips and drained it. Tilted it back and finished the whole thing in one long swallow, throat working, jaw tight.

You watched it happen with an appreciative hum in your throat, heat blooming low in your belly.

When he slammed the bottle down on the counter, it was soft but final–like a decision had been made. A quiet, controlled yes that rang louder than any shouted answer ever could.

You didn’t even give it time to settle.

You picked up your Red Russian with one hand, let the condensation slide across your fingers, and finished the whole thing in two unhurried gulps. The syrupy liquor coated your throat, leaving warmth and spice trailing down your spine. You licked the last drop off your bottom lip–slowly, deliberately–then set your glass beside his, neat and empty.

Rhett’s eyes were molten when you turned to him.

Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t need to.

He reached for you first. Not your hand, not your waist–your hip. Fingers curling into the denim there, firm but measured, like he was already thinking about the rhythm he’d felt earlier and couldn’t wait to see what it was like underneath him.

You let him pull you in that half-step closer, boots toe-to-toe now, the space between you practically vibrating with heat.

“You sure about this?” He asked, voice a gravelly murmur, his forehead dipping just barely toward yours. “Ain’t exactly gentlemanly what I’m thinkin’.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you leaned up–so close your lips barely grazed his ear when you spoke–and let your voice spill soft and wicked against his skin.

“Good,” You breathed. “I wasn’t lookin’ for a gentleman.”

That broke something in him.

Rhett’s grip on your hip tightened just enough to make you gasp, before he quickly put a few bills onto the counter to cover both your drinks and a tip. He didn’t say goodbye to the bartender, you didn’t say bye to your friends, and neither of you glanced back.

The both of you exited the bar in a bundled mess.

Outside, the heat hit different.

The air was thick with late-summer weight, still clinging to the pavement like it hadn’t let go of the sun yet. The gravel lot behind the bar was quieter than the front—less neon, less chatter, less everything. Just the low hum of cicadas, the creak of the wooden porch settling behind you, and the sound of your boots crunching in tandem with his as Rhett guided you through the dark.

He didn’t hold your hand.

Didn’t need to.

His fingers were still resting at your hip, steady and sure, and that subtle grip told you everything—possessive, deliberate, still holding the ghost of the rhythm he’d felt watching you ride. The kind of touch that said he wasn’t in a hurry, but he was done wasting time.

His truck was parked near the back edge of the lot–older model, clean but rugged, navy paint dulled slightly by dust and heat. He opened the passenger side door for you with one hand, the other still on your hip like he couldn’t let go just yet.

You climbed in without a word, denim brushing the edge of the seat, your skin still humming from the way his fingers had lingered.

Rhett circled around to the driver’s side, slid in beside you, and shut the door with a quiet click–like sealing something in.

He didn’t start the engine right away. Just sat there, hands on the wheel, letting the silence stretch while the tension pulsed like a heartbeat between you.

Then he turned toward you slightly, one arm resting on the back of your seat, his voice low and rough.

“Gonna take you somewhere a little less public.”

You arched a brow, slow and teasing. “What, so this is how it ends? Sweet talkin’ cowboy turns out to be a backwoods murderer?”

Rhett snorted–one of those quick, sharp laughs that came from deep in his chest. He turned the key in the ignition, engine rumbling to life beneath you both. Rhett glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into something crooked. “Nah,” he said, voice warm and amused, “Murderers don’t usually open the door for ya first.”

You let out a real laugh then–one of those unguarded, honeyed bursts that settled between you like heat off asphalt. Rhett felt it in his chest.

“Well,” You grinned, settling back in your seat and tossing him a sidelong glance, “Good to know you’ve got manners even if your intentions ain’t pure.”

He shot you a look, teasing and dark under the brim of his hat. “Darlin’, I think we both made our intentions pretty damn clear back at the bar.”

You hummed and turned to the window as he pulled out of the lot, tires crunching softly over gravel. The streetlights thinned the further he drove, buildings falling away into the long stretches of open dark. Moonlight painted soft edges on the dashboard, and the cicadas hummed low in the background.

“So,” You said after a few quiet miles, your voice relaxed, “Is takin’ strange women into the dark back roads a hobby of yours? Or am I special?”

Rhett huffed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You’re the first one I’ve let boss a bull around like that and still managed to get me flustered enough to forget my own name.”

You smirked. “So that’s a no.”

“That’s a hell no,” He muttered, turning onto a narrow road lined with trees, the path barely lit by his headlights. “There’s a place up here I like–quiet, no folks around. It’s nothin’ fancy, but…”

You let him trail off, watching him drive. His hands on the wheel were steady and confident. That same quiet control you’d felt from him all night.

“I like quiet,” You murmured. “Grew up around noise. Kinda nice when it’s just…” you gestured at the empty stretch of road, “This.”

Rhett nodded once, like he understood that more than he could say out loud.

“Me too,” he said. “Always felt easier to breathe when I’m away from all the noise. City folks don’t know what they’re missin’.” You smiled, settling deeper into your seat.

“So what do you do, Rhett Abbott? Besides, ruin the hearts of mechanical bull riders and flirt like it’s a full-time job.” He gave a low laugh at that.

“Used to ride real bulls actually. Circuit stuff. Got outta it a few years back–bad fall. Now I help run the ranch out west of town. Horses mostly. Sometimes cattle.”

You raised a brow. “A real cowboy, huh?”

He shot you a look. “You doubted?”

“No,” You said, slow and sweet. “I just like when the fantasy turns out to be real.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “And you? What’s a woman like you do when she’s not showin’ off on saddles and makin’ grown men lose their minds at a bar?” You grinned, stretching your legs a little where they were curled in the cab.

“Right now? Between gigs,” You said, voice low and easy. “Used to work with a fabrication crew–wood and metal mostly. Signs, custom builds, furniture. Stuff with some weight to it.” You glanced at him with a tilt of your head. “Like makin’ somethin’ that lasts.”

Rhett’s eyes flicked toward you, interested. “So you’re strong and dangerous, huh?”

You smirked. “Only if someone mouths off.”

That got a real laugh out of him, one that curled low in his throat and settled warm between you. “That explains the way you handled that bull. Kinda figured you were used to workin’ with your hands. You moved like someone who doesn’t second-guess herself.”

You shrugged. “Gotta trust your grip when the thing you’re ridin’ is trying to buck you clean off.”

He glanced sideways at you again, and there was something darker in his gaze this time. “Pretty sure that’s a metaphor for somethin’.”

You smiled, slow and deliberate, letting your fingers trace along the edge of your seat like you were thinking it through. “Maybe. But you’re gonna have to earn the answer.”

Rhett made a low sound–half amused, half something else entirely–and shifted his grip on the wheel. His knuckles were pale from how tight he was holding it. Like talking to you made him want to put his hands somewhere else entirely.

“So…Builder by trade, heartbreaker by night,” he said, a little teasing.

You gave him a sidelong glance, lashes lowering. “Who says I break hearts?”

He looked at you then, full on. The truck bumped a little over the road’s uneven shoulder, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. “I watched half a bar stop breathin’ when you got on that bull. Think you underestimate your effect, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, looking back out the window. “And what about you, cowboy? You always this smooth or am I just bringin’ out your best material?”

Rhett shook his head, lips twitching. “If this is me at my best, we’re both in trouble.”

That earned him another laugh, and this one was breathier–laced with something warm that settled in your chest. The trees were growing taller on either side of the road now, shadows stretching long across the narrow lane as the headlights washed over trunks and underbrush.

He slowed a little, the tires crunching gravel as he turned down a path almost completely swallowed by trees.

“Almost there,” he said, voice dropping.

You looked over at him again, this time more curious than teasing. “So what’s at the end of this mysterious road? You gonna show me your secret cabin in the woods or somethin’?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t mischievous–it was soft. “Nah. Just a clearing. Good view of the stars. Ain’t much…But it’s quiet. And mine.”

Something about the way he said that made your chest tighten just a little.

And sure enough, not thirty seconds later, the trees opened up–and the sky swallowed everything. A wide, empty field stretched out under the moonlight. The grass was knee-high and silver in the glow. Beyond it, dark hills rolled out like soft waves.

Rhett pulled up near the edge, killed the engine, and sat for a second in the hush.

“You weren’t kiddin’,” You murmured, looking out through the windshield.

He didn’t answer right away. Just reached over, slow and steady, and pushed the gear shift into park. His hand lingered near yours on the console.

“Figured you deserved a little privacy.” The clearing fell into silence the second the engine cut.

No crickets. No frogs. Just the long, stretched hum of summer heat lingering in the tall grass and the low creak of the truck settling under its own weight. The moon was full overhead, casting everything in that washed silver that turned skin into porcelain and shadows into ink. The cab was dim now, the dashboard lights fading to black.

You were still facing the windshield, but your eyes weren’t on the field anymore.

They were on him.

Rhett sat there for a beat–forearm resting on the wheel, chest rising slowly beneath his button-down, jaw ticking like he was chewing on a thought. And then, without a word, he reached up and pulled his hat off.

It was a quiet gesture. Simple. But it felt intimate. Like stripping something away.

The shadows shifted when he did. His hair–thick and messy and darker than you’d expected–was flattened at first but slowly began to lift with a few rakes of his fingers. It curled just slightly at the nape of his neck, soft and unruly like it hadn’t been tamed in days. Moonlight bled across the slope of his cheekbones, highlighting the rough stubble that scraped across his jaw and throat. His eyes, darker now without the brim shadowing them, flicked toward you.

And you–God, you were staring.

Wide-eyed. Lips slightly parted. The kind of look that said he could’ve asked you anything in that moment and you would’ve said yes.

Rhett’s breath hitched as he caught it–that softness, that stunned hunger pouring off you like heat. He blinked once, slow, and placed his hat behind the seats. Then his body shifted.

He leaned in.

Slow at first, one knee turning slightly on the bench seat, his thigh brushing yours, arm braced lightly behind your shoulder. You felt the weight of him in the air before you felt the touch–his gaze locked on your mouth now, like he was testing whether or not you’d move.

You didn’t.

So he did.

The first brush of his lips was rough. Not because he meant it to be–but because he couldn’t help himself. He kissed like a man who’d been holding back all night, and now he had you within reach. His mouth crashed into yours with heat and intention–firm, urgent, full of all the tension that had been simmering since that first lock of eye contact by the bull.

His hand was on your jaw before you could even register it–fingers curling under your chin to tilt your face, thumb brushing the edge of your cheek like he wanted to hold you still and memorize the taste of you all at once. His lips parted slightly, coaxing yours open with the kind of confidence that felt lived-in. His tongue swept past your teeth like he was claiming territory, dragging a low sound from the back of his throat as you met him stroke for stroke.

There was nothing slow about it.

No delicate build. No tentative start.

It was need. Straight and uncut. The kind that had been brewing like a storm since you sauntered across that bar and took your seat beside him.

You gasped softly as his other hand gripped your thigh–fingers digging into denim, pulling you closer across the seat. The slide of your legs against his made your breath hitch, and he took full advantage of it–swallowing the sound with another bruising kiss, one that left your head spinning and your lips slick.

He kissed like he’d been starving. Like every part of him ached for friction, for pressure, for the slide of you under his hands. You could feel it in the way his chest pressed to yours, in the way his hips shifted, the way his thumb dragged along the underside of your jaw like he was mapping it for later.

When you whimpered into his mouth–just barely–he pulled back half an inch, enough to speak against your lips.

“You kiss every cowboy like this,” He rasped, voice hoarse, “Or just me?”

You smiled against him, dizzy and breathless.

“Just the ones who earn it.”

He groaned at that. Something deep and low that vibrated between your ribs.

And then he was kissing you again–harder this time. Rougher. No hesitation.

His hand was already under your shirt before the next kiss even broke.

Calloused fingers skimming the slope of your stomach, up and over the curve of your ribs, until his palm found your breast. He groaned into your mouth the second he felt it–the way you arched into his touch, the soft weight of you in his hand, the faint catch in your breath that said yes without a word.

You tugged at the hem of your own tank top, and Rhett helped–eager hands dragging it up, over your head, flinging it somewhere toward the footwell. You didn’t care where it landed. Not when his eyes dropped and locked onto the purple lace he’d been fantasizing about since the bar. It was barely a barrier, practically translucent in the moonlight, and when he exhaled, it came out ragged.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, his voice gone rough with want. “You really were tryin’ to kill me.”

He bit his lower lip, hard enough to leave a dent, and reached behind you with one hand. The clasp came undone in a single, practiced flick–his breath catching as the straps slid from your shoulders.

The bra dropped to your lap.

And Rhett’s restraint shattered.

A low, guttural moan broke from his throat, and then his mouth was on you.

He latched onto your nipple with zero hesitation–hot, wet, desperate. His stubble scraped harsh against the softness of your breast, but you didn’t care. You gasped, back bowing into the seat, fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue circled, sucked, licked you like he was drowning in the taste.

He palmed your other breast while he devoured the first, thumb brushing over the peak, just enough to make your toes curl inside your boots. His hips shifted–rolled–and that’s when you felt it. The thick, solid press of him straining against his jeans, hot and hard beneath the weight of your thigh.

The moment your hips moved–just once, slow, deliberate–grinding down over him, Rhett bucked.

He pulled off your breast with a wet, gasping sound, forehead dropping against your sternum like he needed a second to breathe. He huffed a breath against your sternum–half laugh, half groan– before lifting his head, eyes dragging slowly down your body. His gaze was molten when it landed on the waistband of your jeans.

“Kinda feelin’ like that bull right now with you grindin’ on me like this.” Your laugh was breathless, broken by the heat still simmering between you, but it faded the moment his hand slid down your stomach. Slow. Purposeful. Thumb tracing the edge of your jeans.

You looked at him, head tilted back against the window, lips parted–but you didn’t stop him.

Not when he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband.

Not when he popped the first button open with a practiced flick.

Not when the sound of your zipper lowering filled the cab like a goddamn gunshot.

His eyes dropped, zeroed in on the reveal, and when he caught the first glimpse of what was underneath–matching purple lace, delicate and damp–he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered, almost reverent. “You really came dressed to ruin me, huh?”

You arched a brow, smirking lazily even as your skin burned. “Maybe I just had a feelin’ tonight was gonna get interesting.”

He let out a low whistle, fingers brushing the waistband of your panties now, rough pads dragging slow against the lace.

“A feelin’, huh?” His thumb traced the dip just below your navel, and then lower–teasing just shy of your center.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, letting your knees fall open slightly, brushing his thigh. “Turns out I was right.” His fingers dipped lower–slipping beneath the lace with a practiced boldness that sent heat blooming through your gut. And then he touched you.

Direct. Smooth. Just enough pressure to make your hips twitch and your thighs part wider.

“Oh, fuck,” You whispered, voice catching in your throat as his thumb found your clit and circled, slow and devastating.

Rhett groaned like he felt it too–like your reaction was dragging it out of him. “That’s it,” He murmured, voice thick, “Just like that… Jesus, you’re soaked.”

You whimpered as his middle finger slid down and eased into you, thick and slow, curling just right. Your whole body arched toward him, breath coming in shaky bursts, and your hand–god, your trembling hand–fumbled for his belt.

“I need—” You gasped, not even sure what you were asking for, just chasing the friction, the heat, the him of it all.

He caught your mouth with his again–kissed you open and messy and panting while his fingers worked you in slow, addictive strokes. Every curl of them was deliberate, precise, dragging moans from your lips that he swallowed down like a starving man.

Your hand finally popped his buckle open. He groaned into your mouth as you tugged the zipper down, the sound loud and obscene in the still air. Your palm found him, hot and hard, pressing against the cotton of his boxers, and he shuddered.

“Fuck,” He rasped, voice guttural now. “You touch me like that and I’m not gonna last.”

“Then don’t wait,” You breathed, thumb tracing the curve of him through the fabric. “Wanna feel you too.”

He cursed again–low and rough–and shoved his jeans down just enough for you to slide your hand inside. Your fingers wrapped around him, thick and pulsing and god, he was big. Hard. Leaking against your palm already.

Rhett bucked into your grip, forehead crashing against yours, panting like he’d just run a race. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart,” He groaned, voice breaking, “I swear to God…”

But he didn’t stop.

His thumb pressed harder on your clit now, circling tight and filthy while he pushed a second finger inside you, stretching you just right, dragging the kind of moan from your throat that made his hips jerk.

“Fuck, I love the way you sound,” He growled, mouth finding the hinge of your jaw, teeth grazing there. “You hear yourself, baby? Soundin’ so fuckin’ pretty on my fingers.”

You rocked against his hand, desperate now, grinding down as your strokes on him faltered from the way your thighs were trembling.

Your breaths tangled in the heat between you–his lips on your cheek, your chin, your neck. The windows were fogged now, the whole cab heavy with the scent of sweat and sex and summer air.

“Don’t stop,” You whispered, eyes fluttering as pleasure coiled tight in your belly, sharp and hot. “Right there–God, please–”

“Say my name,” He begged, hoarse and wrecked. “Say it when you come, darlin’. Wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

And that did it.

The orgasm hit like a freight train–your walls clenching around his fingers, your thighs snapping tight around his hand as you cried out into his mouth. “Rhett–oh, my God–”

He groaned loud, hips stuttering as he watched you fall apart. His free hand clutched your waist, grounding you. He held you through every last tremor–jaw clenched, breath shaky, fingers still buried deep inside you. Your muscles fluttered around him, slick and pulsing, and he bit back another groan as you slumped forward against his chest, wrecked and panting.

And then, rough and low, like gravel in his throat:

“I need to be inside you.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a confession. A prayer. A need so raw it cracked something open between you.

You didn’t answer with words.

You kissed him–hard. Dragging your mouth over his like you were trying to drink him down. And as you shifted in his lap, knees straddling his hips, he groaned into your mouth, hands flying to your waist, gripping tight. The moment your soaked panties brushed the length of him, he cursed, the sound punched from his lungs like he’d taken a hit to the chest.

“Fuck, darlin’–you’re gonna ruin me.”

You made quick work of it–shimmying your jeans down just enough, dragging the drenched lace of your panties to the side. His cock was already hot and heavy in your hand, slick from your touch, and when you lifted your hips and lined yourself up–

“Oh my God,” he growled, head tipping back against the seat, eyes rolling as you sank down onto him.

He was thick. Stretching you wide. Filling every inch.

The stretch burned in the best way, made your breath catch, made your thighs shake. And Rhett? He was gasping like it was killing him–like the feel of you clenching around him was too much to bear.

“Jesus Christ,” He choked out, nails digging into your hips. “You feel–fuck, you feel unreal.”

You started to move.

Slow at first–rocking your hips in slow, deliberate circles, watching his jaw lock tight, his hands twitch like he wanted to grab, to thrust, to lose it. His eyes snapped open, blown black with lust, fixed on where you were joined like he couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stop,” He rasped, voice shredded. “Ride me, baby–just like that��fuck–just like that.”

You ground down harder, the friction brutal and perfect, and his hips bucked up into you instinctively–meeting every roll with a sharp, hungry thrust that made you gasp. Your hands braced against his chest, nails digging in as you bounced now, full and fast and desperate, sweat slicking your thighs as the truck began to creak around you.

The windows were already fogged.

Then your palm slammed against the glass behind him, leaving a streaked, smeared handprint as your rhythm snapped into something wilder.

Carnal.

Unfiltered.

The truck rocked beneath you. His hands flew to your ass, gripping hard, helping you move, driving you down onto him with each thrust like he couldn’t get deep enough.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” He groaned, teeth gritted, sweat dripping down his temples. “Ridin’ me like this–you tryna make me lose my fuckin’ mind?”

You moaned loud in answer, thighs burning, body trembling, chasing that second high with reckless abandon. His name left your mouth again and again, breathless and broken and gasping.

He fucked up into you now, faster, rougher, sweat-slick and savage, every slam of his hips making you cry out. The slap of skin, the creak of leather, the fogged-over windows–it was all heat and friction and nothing else mattered but this.

Rhett growled your name–harsh and desperate–before dragging your mouth back to his.

“I’m close,” He rasped against your lips, voice gone.

You nodded, barely able to breathe. “Me too.”

And then it hit again–your body locking up, mouth falling open as the second orgasm shattered through you, your whole body seizing as you clenched around him, sobbing his name.

Rhett followed a heartbeat later, hips jerking up hard, burying himself deep as he came with a guttural moan, spilling inside you while your name tore from his throat like it was the only word he knew.

The truck went still.

Just the sound of your panting breaths, your sweat-slicked skin sticking to his, your heart pounding against his chest like thunder. Rhett’s arms slid around you the second the tremors subsided, pulling you flush to his chest like he didn’t want even the air between you. His breath was still ragged, chest rising and falling against yours, but his hands–God, his hands were gentle now. One splayed across the small of your back, the other curling around the back of your neck like a secret he wanted to keep safe.

You felt him exhale–deep, steady–his breath warm against your temple. The kind of breath a man took when the storm inside him finally broke.

“Jesus,” He whispered into your hair. “I ain’t never–” He broke off, let out a soft, stunned laugh. “Ain’t never felt anything like that.”

You smiled against his neck, still catching your breath. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me either.”

There was a beat of quiet–intimate now, not charged. Just the hum of the world spinning outside the fogged windows and the slow, steady thump of his heart under your cheek.

Then Rhett shifted slightly, just enough to lean back and look at you. His eyes were soft now, hazy but clear, and his lips curled into the kind of crooked smile that made your chest ache.

“You, uh…” His fingers traced the edge of your jaw, featherlight. “You think maybe I could get your number? Unless this is the part where you climb out the window and disappear into the cornfield like some kinda beautiful ghost.”

You blinked–then burst out laughing, the kind that made your stomach ache and your chest feel too full. You ducked your head against him, shaking with it, and felt his own chuckle rumble beneath your palm where it rested on his chest.

“You asking for my number after all that?” You teased, voice still breathless with laughter. “Bit backwards, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” He grinned, nudging his nose against yours. “But I figure…Might be worth makin’ a habit outta seein’ you like this.”

You smiled, soft and slow this time, cupping his cheek.

“I think you’re right, cowboy.”

And there it was again–that look. The one that said he’d chase this feeling wherever it led.

Outside, the moon hung high over the field, casting the clearing in silver and shadow. Inside the truck, the heat lingered–on your skin, in your breath, and in the way Rhett looked at you like he’d just found something he hadn’t even known he was searching for.

And when he kissed you again–soft, slow, grateful–it wasn’t a promise.

It was a beginning.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #lewis pullman #outer range #smutty smut smut #the hot hot heat of my steamy mind #lewis pullman characters #x reader #Lewis Pullman the man you are #Spotify

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museshitsngiggs · 11 days ago

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rhett abbott imagine

backing you up against his truck after you accuse him of eyeing another girl at dinner. slipping his hand up your dress and never breaking eye contact because he wouldn’t want to miss the way your eyes widen and your mouth opens up to let out a small gasp.

working his fingers inside of you slowly making you lose yourself to him and shuddering as he curls them, allowing you to have your release.

“If i wanted someone else, I wouldn’t be here fucking you with my fingers.” He would whisper in your ear, leaving kisses down your neck and collar bones.

#lewis pullman #rhett abbott #bob reynolds #bob thunderbolts #bob top gun #lewis pullman smut #lewis pullman imagine #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x oc #outer range

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delopsia · 7 days ago

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I'm back between villages

#i know this dead horse is sick and tired of seeing me #rhett abbott #lewis pullman #delgato's edits #outer range

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theoraekenslover · 23 days ago

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Just read a Bob Floyd fic where reader, who is Bob’s girlfriend, meets the daggers for the first time, and they’re all surprised that she’s with shy Bob, and she’s like “what? Shy Bob? He’s so outgoing back home” then she says something about him doing body shots and he drags her away to the bathroom and fucks her and he’s like a huge Dom, and mad because she was embarrassing him, anyways, all I can think of is Bob Floyd with alter-ego Rhett Abbott, like that’d be so hot, like maybe it’s like a middle name or something, idk but like it’s actually Bob, just another side of Bob, but it’s still who he is, you know? He just, like, separates himself into ‘quiet, shy, boring’ work Bob, and then ‘crazy, bull-riding, getting into fights’ Rhett. God, I’ve read the best Bob x reader x Rhett stories but this concept is getting to me, like, I don’t write but I’m thinking about doing it just so I can get this because it’s stuck in my head and I think it would be brilliant. Oh, and like the team would somehow see Bob as ‘Rhett’ and be in total shock, like seeing him at a rodeo, riding the bull, just doing very ‘not-Bob’ stuff.

I don’t know, I just had this little add-on idea to a one shot I was reading, and went ‘this needs to be a reality’

Edit:

I forgot to mention, he’d still have Rhett’s tattoos, and the daggers would see them sometime after or during they’re finding out about his ‘Rhett’ ego. His hat and those tattoos, dude, that’ll kill me.

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dontpulloutman · 4 days ago

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can you fight? (twitter shenanigans)

singer!yn x lewis pullman (more) a/n: in a bit of a writing slump rn (and super busy w school yall im gonna kms) but i quickly made this lil guy up! hope u enjoy it :))

#lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman social media au #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #thunderbolts #top gun maverick #outer range #favorite muse

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withahappyrefrain · 7 months ago

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Can you please do meet cute 45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello. For Rhett Abbott?

THIS ONE SCREAMS RHETT!! I'm so glad someone requested it with him!

Rhett Abbott had never felt more ridiculous in his entire life.

He was told they just needed a few things from the grocery store. Rhett hated going to the grocery store. It meant people and people judged and whispered things about him, regardless of if it was true (majority of the time it wasn’t).

But the grocery store was on the same street as The Wild Rose, Wabang’s brand new flower shop. And inside was you, the owner.

Rhett scoffed at the idea at first. There was no way Wabang had enough people to warrant a flower shop. Plus, folks had plenty of land, they could make their damn bouquets if they wanted.

Apparently people were lazy. It also helped that you sold wine and little knick knacks in addition to floral arrangements. Jars of speciality honey from a local farm, the wine from a nearby vineyard. Dish towels with funny sayings and food related puns.

It wasn’t a store Rhett would go into, nevertheless pay attention to. But Amy wanted to go and it wasn’t like Perry was going to take her.

There was a decent sized crowd outside the store, listening to the mayor drone on about how great this was going to be for the town, not just for Wabang but also for the surrounding area. Out of all the places to be on the ‘precipice of an economic boom’, Wabang did not come to Rhett’s mind.

Before he could roll his eyes anymore, the mayor introduced the owner of the shop, you.

God, you were beautiful with your bright eyes and dazzling smile as you spoke about how welcoming Wabang had been to you and how helpful when it came to making your dream a reality. Rhett was instantly smittened.

But he couldn’t just go up and talk to you. For one, you were busy cutting a red ribbon with stupidly giant scissors.

Second, you were luminous, vivid. Everything he wasn't.

Rhett knew he didn't offer much, if anything. His life was directionless; all he did was work on the ranch and ride bulls when he could (when his right shoulder wasn't acting up). He would just drag you down. So instead, he settled for the chances he could walk past your shop and peek into the window for a glimpse of you.

It was fucking pathetic. His family would give him so much shit if they found out. And yet, it was the highlight of his day, seeing you arrange a case, talk to customers. Rhett especially loved it when he caught you giving the floral arrangements to clients. The corners of your eyes would crease and the bridge of your nose scrunched up when you revealed your creation. It also allowed him to linger by the store window, to bask in your warmth for a little bit longer.

“Do you think they're pretty?” Amy asked one day while they were walking down the street.

Rhett let out a confused hum, turning his attention from your store window to his niece.

“The owner. You always look in their window when we pass by,” Amy explained with a giggle.

“It's just an interesting store,” Rhett grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he began walking again.

“Then you should go inside!” Amy called out as she ran after him.

If only it was that easy.

—----------

Several months later Rhett was now standing in front of your door, rather than your window.

He should go in. He had zero reason to not go in. Rhett actually required your services. So it wasn't as if he was just going to stroll in there with no plan. Or worse, use Amy as a guise (God, he hated when Perry did that).

It was just….the thought of being in your presence, speaking to you. Having a conversation. Rhett wasn't much of a talker, never had been. Why would he, when hardly anyone was interested in what he had to say?

And the truth was, he didn't have to go in. He could figure this out on his own.

But when would his next chance come along?

It was the unclear answer that gave him the courage to turn the handle and open the door.

Your shop felt warm and inviting. One wall was filled with shelves, dedicated to displaying various colorful vases. In the middle, a designated ‘flower bar’ where folks could create their own bouquets. Amongst the store were various house plants and knick knacks.

“Hi! Can I help you?” A sweet voice caused Rhett to turn around, the air exiting his lungs upon seeing you.

He could only nod, at a complete loss for words.

You waited for him, to see if he would expand. When he didn’t, you simply smiled and asked, “What can I do for ya?”

With fumbling hands, Rhett got out the photo from his jacket, “Um…I need help identifying these flowers. They’re the wedding flowers she had and I wanna draw the bouquet as like a….like a gift. Figured it would last longer than getting a bouquet but I uh…I need help identifying them. I wanna look them up so I can get the details right.”

This was going horribly. He should have just bought a magnifying glass off of Amazon or find someone who could digitally restore photos.

“Do you know where they got married?” You asked, extending your hand out for the photo.

“Yeah, uh, here in Wabang,” Rhett answered, running a hand up and down the back of his neck, hoping his body was just warm and not turning a bright red.

“Oh, well that makes it much easier!” Rhett gave you the photo and you motioned for him to follow you to the counter. You got out a book that had a beautiful embossed floral design on the cover.

“I’m glad you know where they got married. It makes it much easier to identify. Also, considering WaBang has hadn’t a floral shop until this year and the nearest one was over an hour away, I’m assuming these are flowers native to Wyoming,” you explained, flipping through the pages.

You looked up through your lashes, “I can tell you what flowers they are and you can look them up. But am I safe to assume that as an artist, you’d rather have your references in person?”

“Oh uh, I’m not…I’m not an artist,” He mumbled, shaking his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets. A nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break.

“You’re creating art. Last time I checked, that makes you an artist…..” your voice trailed off, waiting to hear a name.

“Oh! I’m Rhett. Sorry.” How could he forget to introduce himself? “Yeah, having something I could look at and observe up close would be great.”

“Well Rhett, I’m more than happy to recreate that bouquet for ya. But I don’t have some of these flowers in stock, so it’ll take some time to order them,” you explained, “Probably like a week or so? If I have your number, I can let you know when they arrive.”

Rhett looked up, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want my number?”

Your nose scrunched up as you nodded, “Yes. I would love to have your number Rhett. Would hate for you to come in and I don’t have what you need.”

Rhett would do it. In fact, he even tried to assure you so.

“Well, I might need another photo just to ensure I’m accurate. How will I let you know?” You countered. Fuck, you had a great point.

So Rhett fumbled with getting out his phone, hands shaking as he passed it off to you.

“I’ll give you my number too if that’s alright. Just so you aren’t wondering who’s texting you.” Your giggle was so endearing, Rhett couldn’t help but smile, couldn’t help but feel his shoulders drop and relax.

He nodded, a small, slightly lopsided and totally sweet smile, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You handed Rhett back his phone, “I’ll let you know if I need more info! And when I get them in.”

Rhett nodded, secretly (and seriously) hoping he didn’t look like an idiot with how hard he was smiling.

“I'll uh, see ya around?” He practically asked. You nodded eagerly, saying your goodbyes as he quickly got out of the store.

Rhett felt like he could finally breathe again once he was out of your store. That went well, right? He had your number, though it was intended to give updates regarding a gift for his mom. But he also had another chance to see you. Granted, once he was done with this project, he wouldn't have a reason to go into your shop. Maybe for Amy’s birthday, he could get her flowers.

The vibration of his phone broke Rhett out of his thoughts. It couldn't be….could it?

His eyes widened when he saw your name attached to the text. He nearly dropped his phone when he read your message.

I'm glad you finally came in! I've been wanting to meet you ever since the store opened :)

#my writing #rhett abbott #rhet abbott #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbot #rhett abbot x you #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range fanfic #rhett abbott fluff

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sebsxphia · 8 months ago

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your (my) life with rhett abbott.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ summary: a life with rhett.

￫ word count: 680.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, some angst, children and fluff.

￫ authors notes: this is a collection of daydreams i have about my cowboy husband. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett is a little awkward and shy. For a burly bull rider, when he first asked you out, his thumb moved between each fingernail to pick at it. His hands were twitching with nerves. From a first glance, he simply looked like a man asking a person out. His hands were by his sides and he stood tall.

His father told him to never look small, even though he made Rhett feel so small sometimes.

When you replied with a beaming smile that you would love to go out with him sometime, his cheeks became flushed with a warm pink, that spread over the tops of his ears and down his neck in a hot flush.

He gets grumpy too. His eyebrows knit together in a firm line. His eyes become stone and his eyelids grow heavy. He’ll focus on one particular spot of dirt on his jeans, not baring to look at anything else. He clenches his teeth tightly together and his jaw becomes firmly set.

But, he stands up for himself and what he thinks is right. However, it comes off as him being defensive and angry when really, he’s only trying to protect the things that he loves most. That being the life you’ve built together on your ranch and most importantly, you and your little baby girl.

Bonnie Abbott was born in the early spring. You spent many days in the summer standing on your front porch, with her in your arms and watching Rhett work not too far from your home. He couldn’t bear to spend long periods away from you both, so he always opted to do work closer to your home during the day.

You would hold her chubby little hand and wave it for her, humming in a sweet voice, “Wave to Daddy, Bonnie!”

You watch as your three ranch cats jump from the rooftops and fences of the barn. Your Anatolian Shepherd, Daisy, sits by your feet and keeps a careful and protective watch over both you and Bonnie. Robin, your Blue Heeler, is always quick on Rhett’s heels and trails around behind him, as he works in the hot and sticky Wyoming summer heat. Rhett whistles sharply between his lips and Robin is always quick to follow.

You still live in Wyoming, but you chose your ranch to be two towns over from Wabang. Rhett wanted to distance himself from his family, but he couldn’t leave them completely. He’s still holding onto this deeply entrenched guilt, that therefore causes him to tether to them.

He’s working on it though. He’s working on himself.

He doesn’t deny his mother and father of seeing his grandchild. You go back to visit when you can, but you normally leave after spending the day there. Rhett can only bear so many hours before the familiar and tell-tale signs of his set frown and tense jaw begin to appear. You still go back for occasions such as Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the only two occasions when you, Rhett and Bonnie will stay the night.

His old room is still there. It still comforts him.

You press up against Rhett in his small bed and keep him warm, whilst Bonnie sleeps soundly beside you both in her crib. His room is nearly identical to when he left it, but these small changes with you both now being in there with him, is what gives him the harmony to fall asleep.

You asked Rhett once if he would be gentle with you, as he had your beautiful naked body below him.

“Will you be gentle with me? Please be gentle with me.”

He gave you the love that you so dearly deserved. He calls you his baby, his darlin’, his love.

He is your dream. He is your cowboy, but a man who needs to be wanted. He needs to feel wanted. He gets so much validation from you, in every way. Emotionally, physically, sexually… And you give that to him without hesitation. He’s so over the moon with you. He’s so profoundly and deeply in love with you.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @sugarcoated-lame @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @floydsmuse @rhettmotel @mearslot @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @castiel-barnes @sandbarbirdie

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #lewis pullman #outer range #outer range fic #outer range fanfiction #outer range x reader

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hehe-69 · 4 days ago

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smut Rhett abbott♡ An arranged marriage with Rhett. Reader like Rhett but Rhett doesn't her you. Until one night, everything changes when someone try to flirts with Reader at Rodeo. Thank you!!!

Oh boy…let’s do it.

Summary: To save his family’s ranch, Rhett agrees to marry a girl from a rich family. Unfortunately for you, Rhett has a low opinion of your character, he thinks of you as a spoiled brat who gets everything you want and all you have to do is say please.

But, as time passes, Rhett beings to see you in a different light. And a marriage that was meant to be temporary begins to have the potential to last much longer then expected.

Warnings: Very very small hint of Angst, jealousy from both reader and Rhett, fluff, eventual happy ending, SMUT, porn with plot, porn with feelings, save a horse…ride that cowboy, my first attempt at actual smut so sorry if it’s ass. WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT YOU FILTHY ANIMALS(affectionately)

This is NOT proof read at all…sorry

18+ THIS STORY CONTAINS SUGESTIVE MATERIAL you are responsible for your own media consumption

So sorry if this is not what you envisioned but I hope you enjoy!

——————

Rhett hated the idea from the start. Cecelia had come to you begging you for help, saying that her land was about to be taken from her family by the Tillersons. And they did not have enough money to stop it. Everyone in Wabang knows the Abbott, everyone knows who each member of the family is. But you know that they are good people, that Cece is a saint. The second she came to you, you hung on every single word that came out of her mouth. The marriage was her idea, she said it was the only way your family would agree to send them that much money.

It all made you head spin, you’d do anything to help the Abbotts out…but marrying Rhett, however temporary it may be, was not a decision you were expecting to make. Cece could see how hesitant you were, and she told you she’d let you think it over.

Theres not secret that Rhett Abbott hated your guts, through you never fully understood why, you had an idea. Your family was more than well off, never knowing the struggles that most families like the Abbotts have to endure.

Most people thought they already knew all about you, rich little girl who gets whatever she wants and doesn’t have to work to earn anything. It made your skin crawl, this preconceived notion of your character has lead you to spend most of your life in isolation. Which ended up fueling the people’s beliefs of you being a high and mighty asshole. More than likely, Rhett thought the exact same thing about you. But regardless of what he felt or how low his opinion of you may be, there was always…something, about the cowboy. Most people in town saw him as a dirt bag. A drunk, a brawler, a cowboy who was up to no good.

Over the years, you have become a bit of a watcher, and onlooker. And throughout your time as a watcher, you have seen that Rhett really isn’t anything like that. He’s actually a big softy that just wants to be wanted. You have seen Rhett help random people around town, and old guy who is struggling to load up his haul from the hardware store, his niece Amy who is too tired to keep walking so he gives her a piggyback ride, he’s even helped Joy stuff a Christmas tree that was never going to fit into her vehicle.

You have always had a small crush on the cowboy, gone to all his rodeos, silently and sometimes very loudly cheering him on from the sidelines. When he loses, you want to cheer him up, but then you think about how horrifically awkward that could be.

In the end, you were always going to tell Cece yes.

———

“Absolutely fuckin not!” Rhett stands up straight, once leaning on the counter of his family home’s kitchen, now he’s towering over everyone in the room. “Rhett sit your skinny ass down.” Royal all but hisses at his youngest son. You sit next to Cecilia at the dinner table, trying to not move around too much and draw attention towards yourself as tensions rise. Rhett yanks the chair beside you out from under the table and plops down.

You can feel the heat radiating off of him as you shrink into yourself in an attempt to make yourself impossibly smaller.

“Look I know this is not ideal-“No mom it’s not fucking ideal!” Rhett is practically fuming as he sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, and you don’t blame him for being upset. This is not a situation you would’ve ever wanted to put yourself or anyone else in. But right now it was the only way.

“Rhett, I’m really trying to be calm with you right now.” Cece starts off, as she leans forwards in her chair to level her son with ‘the look’. The one that says ‘keep acting up and I’ll smack the shit out of you’, it’s enough to make him stay quiet. “This isn’t something either of you want, but we need this.” Cecilia says, as the desperation she feels floods her voice. “We need the money Rhett and this is the surest way to get it. We don’t know how long Wane will drag this all out, and court isn’t exactly cheep.”

———

So here you are couple of months later after Rhett and you eloped, not wanting to draw too much attention and definitely not wanting to go all out with a wedding for a marriage that wasn’t meant to last more then a year or two.

Your parents were surprisingly very supportive, your mom was just happy you finally got married…while your dad was upset to have to let you go ‘so soon’. You had sat your parents down and spun them the story you and Cece put together. You told them you and Rhett had been courting in secret for years and recently decided to get married, they were pretty upset that they didn’t get to meet Rhett beforehand, but they warmed up to it.

You and Rhett kept up the appearance of a reserved couple who didn’t like to show off and kept more to themselves. At family gatherings, you and him had to really crank up the charm. Something the two of you rehearsed.

You dad and Royal go along better than you could’ve ever imagined, they were practically bffs after the first cook out. Bonding over the ranch and other shared hobbies. You and Cece had spent some time giggling about it. About 4 months into the fake marriage, you really began to feel more at home and alive then you had in months. The only thing keeping you from slipping away into this fantasy was the tension between you and Rhett.

You barely spoke to one another, Rhett had moved into your small home on your parents land, he slept on the couch for about one month before you practically bullied him into at least sleeping in the spare room. He often woke up early to work out on the ranch and came home late, so you never had any time to speak to him. Eventually, you made sure to wake up early enough to make sure he ate something other than toast before leaving.

The first morning Rhett stumbled into the kitchen half awake with pj pants on, he bearly had a heart attack.

“Oh fuck me!” Rhett shouts out and you spin around fast enough to make you dizzy. “Shit, I’m sorry I-sorry I just wanted to make sure you got breakfast before heading out.” You say in a hurry as Rhett evens out his breathing. “What?” He says with confusion fulling his voice.

“Breakfast…I can’t make whatever you want before you leave.” You say awkwardly, now feeling like an idiot for waking up so early to do this. “Why? It’s not like we’re actually together.” Theres quite a bit of venom in the cowboy’s voice as he speaks.

He’s been like this every day for the past month and a half. Passive aggressive and sometimes just straight up rude. You sigh out in annoyance through your nose, trying to take deep breaths in an attempt to not get too angry with him. “Look, I know you hate my guts…but you don’t have to be such a fucking asshole all of the time.” You hiss out the last part frustration getting the better of you. You turn around to the stove heating up the pan to melt some of the butter.

Planting your hand on the counter you let your head hang as you compose yourself. “I just thought it would be nice to eat breakfast together and at least try to get along instead of being miserable.”

You hear Rhett let out a deep breath, before he walks over to the coffee pot. “You already started a pot?” Rhett mumbles out akwardly. “Yeah…Cecilia mentioned how you liked it and that you drank it pretty much every morning.” You voice is quite as you speak, you don’t look at him, you just watch the butter as it slowly begins to melt.

“Now I really feel like an asshole.” Rhett murmurs out after a while and you can’t help but chuckle, his accent is thicker in the morning making his words run together a bit. You smile at him as you look at his face, his ears are a bit red and he seemed embarrassed of his behavior.

“I’ll blame it on the lack of your morning coffee.” You tease and Rhett looks up at you and smiles, it’s small, but it makes your entire body heat up. You quickly turn back to look at the pan, anything is better then staring doe eyed at the cowboy.

“I’ll take some French toast.” Rhett mumbles after awhile and you smile shaking your head as you move to get the ingredients to dip the bread in. Guess French toast is better than just regular toast in the morning. “Just French toast?” You ask simply as you mix the eggs, milk and vanilla extract in a square Tupperware container to make dipping the bread into the mixture easier.

“…Maybe.” Rhett says after awhile, sipping his coffee and attempting to wake up. “How is it that a bull riding cowboy like you,” you pause to point at him before continuing to speak as you gabbling a piece of bread and dipping it into the mixture before quickly putting it into the pan. “can live off toast alone in the morning?”

“One of the lord’s biggest blessings.” Rhett offers sarcasticly. You snort at him. “That’s a load of horse shit.” Rhett laughs and you and him continue to talk and banter playfully with one another as you cook breakfast.

And thus beings one routine of many to come. You and Rhett eventually become friends, and your crush on the blue eyed cowboy turns devastatingly into something much more and much harder to ignore.

———

This time when you got to rodeos to watch Rhett ride, you sit with his family, and your parents sit with the Abbotts too. Your dad and Royal are chatting it up while your mom and Cece gossip. You’re beginning to dread the day you and Rhett break this up more and more.

It helps that you two don’t kiss, or sleep in the same bad, but you’re starting to actually like this life. Rhett is riding better then ever, getting first place at every rodeo so far. Every time he looks between those bars when he loads up, the bench rooting for him is bigger than ever. Every once in a while he’ll look directly at you and the fucker winks, you’ll glare at him before grinning back.

Life is nice, good even. The more you learn about Rhett, the more you realize why there was always something about him that kept you from really looking at anyone else. You love his family, love how your parents are with his family…you may even love him at this point.

———

“You ready for your ride coming up?” You ask Rhett one morning, as you’re cooking up some eggs and bacon as he makes the toast for you both. Rhett chuckles softly, “As ready as I’ll ever be…I don’t know is ma and pa will be there though. Wane is up their asses lately.” You hum in agreement, it’s been about six months now and court is starting to feel like it’ll never end. “I’m sure they’ll find the time.” You say softly. It means to world to Rhett to have his parents there, he doesn’t have to tell you that for you to know.

You have seen how he always looks up at them through the crack of the metal bars when he gets ontop of that bull. The way his head snaps away from the score board and towards his family, every single time.

Rhett sits and watches are you cook breakfast, he’s leaning against the counter, back facing the cubers with his arms crossed. He seems to be completely relaxed. “Y’know…I thought the worst of you for years.” You laugh bitterly at his confession. “You and this whole damn town cowboy.”

“I was wrong.” That makes you freeze up a bit, and you eye him carefully. “Oh?” You muse suspiciously. “Don’t act so damn surprised that I’d admit to that.” Rhett glares at you, but there’s not bite to it. Not like there used to be.

“You aint anything how I thought you’d be.” You smile at him, before turning back to the food in the pan. “You’re not so bad yourself cowboy.” You admit softly and Rhett chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment sweetheart.”

“Eugh never call me that again.” You fake a shiver in fake discomfort, masking the actual shiver that pet name sends through you. Rhett laughs at you and continues to try out nicknames and pet names that make you want to sprint around the house out of sheer adrenaline.

You’re not sure when exactly it started, but you have been falling deeper and deeper into love with Rhett. So deep that you don’t see a way out of it, when this is all over, and the arranged marriage is gone, he’ll become that person who hunts you for the rest of your life.

He will be that what if, what if I tried harder to keep him, what if I just spoke up and told him how I felt, what if we never broke the marriage off, what if I never had to let him go.

Years from now, when you have all but forgotten how to love, you’ll think back to Rhett Abbott and wonder what ever became of your hot blooded cowboy.

———

It’s the last Rodeo, the championship and there is no one else here rooting for Rhett other than you…and Maria.

She’s this beautiful women that Rhett has been in love with since high school, and sure you and Rhett are “married” but she’s still as friendly as ever with him…maybe a bit too friendly. It makes your blood boil.

Tonight you’re the one who tapes Rhett’s wrist and gives him a pep talk. Royal couldn’t make it because him and Cece are still stuck at court with Wane, and Perry is home with a sick Amy. Your parents are with Royal and Cece trying to get Wane to back off.

“Okay…you’ve got this Rhett.” You begin awkwardly and Rhett laughs dryly at you. “Gee thanks coach.” You pinch his skin gentle and the cowboy laughs at you once more.

After a while of tapping his wrist in silence, you finish up and put both of your hands on his wrist. “Your entire life you’ve been living for everyone else but yourself…these past 10 years you have been riding these bulls to make your dad proud.” As you speak you don’t look Rhett in the eyes, instead you roll hus wrist around in your hands, looking over your tapping job. “Tonight…” You sigh and look him right in his baby blues. “Tonight is the night you ride for nobody else but yourself, ride to make yourself proud. Ride because you deserve this win after giving so much of yourself to everything and everyone else around you.” You pat both hus shoulders before holding then tightly and shaking him a bit. “Go get em cowboy.” In a moment of complete confidence…and maybe a bit of jealousy towards Maria, you get on your tippy toes and kiss Rhett on the cheek.

Then you scurry away faster than lightning leaving a very stunned Rhett Abbott in the dust. Mentally cursing yourself for doing that. You go sit in your spot where the Abbotts usually sit.

Once again Rhett looks at you through the bars, but he doesn’t wink, he looks unsure of himself so you give him a small smile and mouth ‘you got this cowboy’. Rhett grins and looks forward.

Unfortunately, the bull not only throws Rhett off its back harder then ever on his first attempt, but Rhett ends up landing on his shoulder in a way that most definitely dislocated the bone from its place in his socket.

You shoot up for your seat and watch him like a hawk as they usher him out of the way from the raging bull. You set off to find a spot where you can talk to him, but the mob of his fellow bull riders block you from getting Rhett’s attention. Cutting your losses you hurry back to the bleachers, but you won’t make it all the way around in time, so you go to the gate instead.

Standing on one of the bars hoping Rhett sees you, but you watch as he looks through the bars like always, but no one is there in the Abbott’s spot. Your so nervous that this is going to mess with his head, till the bull shoots out and Rhett stays on longer then ever.

And he gets first place, he wins the championship. You don’t think you have ever cheered so loudly before in your life. Rhett sees you then, standing on the gate and grinning at him like a madwoman. ‘I told you so.’ You mouth at him and he laughs shaking his head and picking up his dusty cowboy hat.

———

As you’re waiting for Rhett in your usual spot, some random dude starts hitting on you…like hardcore flirting.

“I saw you from across the Rodeo.” You pray to god that he will strike you down with lightning after those words leave the man’s mouth. He’s not Rhett level of handsome, he’s decent looking and most definitely drunk. “Wanted to know if you’d like to get a drink sometime.”

“I’m married sooo…no thank you.” You say awkwardly backing away from the man. “I don’t see a ring.” He reply makes you want to bash your head into the metal fencing. As he comes very close to you, the stench of alcohol burns your nose. “Forgot it at home.” You say simply, wondering why the hell this guy is still talking to you when you won’t even look at him. You attempt to bush him off but he keeps trying to touch you.

Before the guy can lay a finger on you, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder and lips press against your temple. “Hey sweetheart, sorry I took so long.” Rhett’s voice is sweeter the honey and it’s got underlying anger lacing through it. “Who’s our friend here.” Rhett eyes the man up and down and suddenly this guy is shrinking into himself. “Oh I was just leaving.”

“Oh you were, huh that’s funny cuz I just watched you flirt with my wife even after she told you she was married.” Rhett’s other arm is in a sling but he’s still as intimidating as ever as he stands up straight and towers over the man. “First, I want you to apologize to my wife for being a fucking creep and then I want you to go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.” The guy instantly rushes out an apology before running off. “I know I don’t bring much to the table…but that guy is probably the biggest asshole you’re ever gonna meet.” Rhett laughs out and you just stare at him puzzled. Till you realize that this random dude was Trevor fucking Tillerson…which made a whole lot more sense.

“Fuck…thanks for doing that Rhett.” Your skin is definitely crawling even more now, you feel unclean and uncomfortable. “Hey.” Rhett pulls you in for a one armed hug. “Aint nobody going to mess with you like that again…not if I can help it.” You pull Rhett in closer, hugging him the best you can when his arm is suck between your bodies in that sling.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” You say after backing away from him, sniffing a bit. “A bath should help with the soreness.” Rhett grins. “If you wanted me naked you could’ve just-“RHETT ABBOTT.” You hiss out cutting him off, as he starts snickering.

“GAHH, give me the keys so I can drive us home butthead.” Rhett continues to laugh but hands the keys over.

———

The drive home is fairly quiet, you can feel Rhett’s eyes on you for a majority of the ride, every time you turn to look back at him he snaps his head towards the window. You snicker after the second time and Rhett mutters grumpily.

Once you park your truck infront of your house, you turn to look at Rhett. This time he doesn’t turn away, he just stares at you, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he’s looking at you like a love sick puppy.

“What?” You ask laugh softly trying to brush off your nerves. “You’re so beautiful.” Your eyes widen in shock, and your face heats up. “Great not only didn’t you fuck up your shoulder but you have a concussion too.” You rush out as you hop out of the truck, you can hear Rhett laughing at you from inside of the cab.

“Wait honey, I’m being serious.” Rhett shouts out after you but he’s still practically wheezing. “Oh fuck off!” You shout back and Rhett jogs up to you. “I am being honest, I swear I don’t know why I keep laughing.” He sounds earnest as he holds your hand. His right hand is still in that brace, his only hand. You frown a bit looking down at the banged up brace, he’s probably used that thing for the last 7 years. “Hey.” Rhett moves his hand to lift your head up, brushing some hair behind your ear.

“Don’t gotta worry about me..kay?” He voice is soft, but soothing with the gruffness of his accent. “I think I’ll always worry about you.” You admit shyly. And Rhett smiles, you realize now that you and him are moving closer. You feel his breath fan across your lips, and just as you brush his against your own…you back away. He follows, and you smile resting your hands on his hips and pulling him closer, tilting your head to the side before kissing him. Rhett goes all in kissing you like you’re the very air that he breaths.

You tentatively run your tongue across his bottom lip and Rhett opens his mouth eagerly before backing you against the wall of your porch. His right hand on your cheek moves into your hair and you make sure to pull him in closest by his belt buckle. You’re reminded of his shoulder as his body presses against yours.

You break the kiss off, smiling at him softly. “Shouldn’t rush into anything cowboy.” You says breathlessly, and a little dumbly you’re heads too foggy for thinking too much about hwat your saying.

Rhett chuckles. “I’m not rushing into anything.” You looks at him, eying him up and down. “We’ll see how you feel after a bath.” You slip always from him to unlock the door. “Yes ma’am.”

———

Once you’re in the house, you start getting things ready for Rhett to take a bit of a bath before showering. His body could use a good soak before a shower. He got thrown around like a rag doll by god knows how many pound bull. He could use a deep clean too.

———

As your getting things ready, Rhett grabs ahold of your hand. “I wanted to…I want to thank you for the pep talk, and for being there to watch me ride.” His face is beat red as he speak, staring down at his socks as he talks. “It meant-it means more to me than you ever know.” Rhett looks up at you shyly, before stepping closer to you. “Even after courts over…would you-I mean-I would like it if you could stay here…with me.”

“Well Rhett…this is my house.” Rhett groans out at your response. “Y’know what I meant.”

“I do, and I would love to. To be honest, I’ve never…I really didn’t want to have to let you go.” You sheepishly murmur. Rhett breaths out in relief, surging forward to kiss you. You smile into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. Rhett bends down obediently and cups the side of your face with his right hand. Things start to heat up as you are whisked away by the moment.

It really takes a turn down the road of no return when Rhett all but whines into your open mouth when you tug at his hair. Rhett breaks the kiss to lean his head against your shoulder, a movement that grants you perfect access to his neck. You kiss and lick and even nibble at the exposed skin as your hands begin to travel down his frame.

“Sweetheart.” Rhett breathes out in response to your actions and you can’t help the wistful sigh that slips for your lips. That term of endearment at a moment like this just fuels the liquid heat of desire flowing through your veins. “Hehe, I knew it.” Rhett laughs breathlessly against your shoulder before moving to look you in the eyes. “I knew you liked it when I called you that.” You glare at him as nasty as you can mange. “Shut up.” And Rhett just laughs at you. You can’t help but smile and kiss him as hard as you can, while giving the bulge in his pants a light squeeze. Rhett jumps and grabs ahold of your wrist, and you grin into the kiss backing away far enough to see the expression on his face.

His eyes are screwed shut, brows scrunched and mouth hung open. The sight alone would give an old church woman a heart attack. “You good there cowboy.” Your own voice sounds so foreign, breathless and seductive in a manner that is so unfamiliar to you. “You’re an asshole.” He grumbles out in annoyance.

“Better watch it, you’re the one with only one arm…I can get away with a whole lot more than you.” You tease playfully before palming at Rhett’s growing excitement through his jeans. He’s all but panting now, and he’s left fumbling while you head off towards the bathroom. “Come on cowboy.” You call back to him as you begin to undress on your way to the door. Once you’re inside, reality hits you…you’re wayyyy over yo it head. Whatever confidence you once had flys out the window. This is Rhett fucking Abbott, and you have him all riled up and the poor guy has only one functioning arm.

You try to get ahold of your nerves as you begin to run the water, you only really got your shirt off, now you you’re standing in your jeans and a bra with your hands covering your face.

Just when you think you broke Rhett and he’s not going to follow behind you, you feel his arms wrap around your waist pulling you close as your back is skin to skin with his bare chest. His lips press against your the back of your left shoulder.

“The bath can wait.” Rhett mumbles against your skin, he kisses up toward your neck slowly. And it heats your body up and clams your nerves at the same time. Before you can rip him a new on for taking his arm out of his sling, Rhett speaks up. “I’ll be fine, like you said…you can get away with a lot more than me right now.”

———

You’re not quite sure how, but you and Rhett end up back in your room. Shortly after the water in the bathroom got turned off, Rhett pounced on you.

So here you are, on your back with Rhett ontop off you, kissing down your neck at a painfully slow pace. It’s like he’s on a mission to drive you completely and utterly insane. “Am I takin too long?” Rhett teases out, and laughs as you huff. “How’d ya guess.” You hiss out and Rhett laughs against your collarbone. “Your nose is all scrunched up, you only ever do that when you’re mad.” Rhett’s only good arm is holding up all his weight while his other hand starts trailing down your stomach towards the top of your jeans.

You lost your bra somewhere on the way down the hall, which is much towards your benefit because it’s one less thing Rhett can drag the ever living hell out. “You’re not the only one that’s been payin attention…that’s been watching.” The tension in your body snaps once Rhett nips at the top of your left breast. You suck in a deep breath to avoid making a noise but he can feel how your abdomen tenses at his actions. “Been going to the rodeos for years, you seriously didn’t think I wouldn’t notice you watching me.” Rhett’s voice is hot against your skin, as his kisses travel towards your nipple and then around it. “Rhett.” You attempt to hiss his name out but instead it comes out needy and desperate in a way that makes your face heat up with embarrassment.

“I’ve gotcha…you have not idea what it was like watching that asshole hit on you.” His right hand travels back up as he swipes his thumb across your right nipple. This time you sigh out and hold back a whine as your whole body jolts. “Fuckin Tillerson, always wanting what they can’t have…always wanting what’s not theirs to take.”

“What am I cattle.” You chuckle in an attempt of humor but it’s cut off by you crying out as Rhett flicks hus tongue against your left breast. “No, you’re much more then that…don’t even joke about yourself like that sweetheart.”

“Okay. Okay.” You breathe out harshly and suddenly Rhett is kissing you again. “My shoulders starting to burn.” Rhett grumbles out, and you laugh at him. “That karma for taking so damn long.” He smiles. “Maybe…but I aint done with you yet.”

Rhett sits up straight, sitting on the back of his legs from hus spot between your legs. “Help me take your jeans off?” You breath out before unbuttoning your pants and lift in your hips up in a hurry. Rhett laughs softly at your rushing and gabs both your jeans and underwear, pulling them both off at the same time. “Hey!” You laugh out. “You said just the jeans.” Rhett shrugs. “Less work for me.” He’s got a shit eating grin as he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy and hot and leaves you wanting to keep him there the whole night. But as he kisses across your jaw, and down your neck, anticipation begins to bubble up inside of you. Rhett’s kisses down your body turn into wet open mouthed ones the closer and closer he gets to his destination.

Right about the middle of your stomach is when you feel on of his fingers drag along your wet heat. The sensation leaves you breathless, and your back arches up into his mouth. “For fucks sake.” You hiss out and you can feel Rhett’s laughter against your navel. That finger rubs up and down your entire entrance before making a b-line do your clint. The second he reaches it you gasp out, and one of your hands flys to the back of his head, twisting and tangling into his curly hair.

“Rhett.” This time you can’t help but moan out his name as his finger rubs circles into you. You can feel out your body shakes, you have been wound up for months. Too reserved to go out for hook ups and way to afraid to relieve yourself with Rhett right next door to your room.

Your responsiveness has Rhett doubling down on his efforts to please you. His mouth is at your hip bone by the time his fingers make their way back down to your core. As his sinks in one finger, his mouth latches onto your clint and your gripping onto his hair for dear life now as another cry rips through you. Rhett hums into you and it sends a ripple of pleasure that shoots through your spine.

“Rhett! You-Fuck.” Your head digs into your pillows as you screw your eyes shut, and your back lifts off the bed once more. You can feel the stretch as Rhett adds another finger slowly and carefully as he continues to work your clint. Whatever pain it discomfort that you might’ve felt is dulled but the sensation of his mouth in you.

Rhett continues to work his fingers in and out of you as he abuses your bundle of nerves, and the mixture of both sensations has you climbing higher and higher.

“Rhett…Rhett don’t-don’t stop.” Your head spins and your ears begin to ring as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m so-Rhett!” Your squeak out as hus fingers finally nail the spot that has you seeing stars. It’s almost too much. “There!” You gasp out and Rhett immediately focuses on that spot, rubbing and pushing into it over and over again, as he sucks and even beings to nibble on your clint. And all the sudden your falling, head thrown backwards and your back arching and mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

When you finally come back to earth, Rhett is whispering into your ear as he works you through your high with his fingers. As your breathing evens out he stops and brings the damn things to his mouth. You watch him clean them off, wide eyed and suddenly more than ready to jump his bones.

“There you are, I was begin to worry about you sweetheart.” Rhett sounds about as breathless and boneless as you do, as if he’s thriving off your experience.

“I’m keeping you.” Is the first thing you manage to say, and Rhett laughs out loud shaking his head. He stop and leans back enough to fully look you over. “I’m all yours.”

In an instant, you manage to pin the cowboy down to the mattress. Attacking him and kisses and nipping at his skin. When you lean back and look down at him, Rhett stares up at you in awe, like you have hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky.

“What are ya up to.” Rhett accuses playfully. “Y’kniw what they say…” you trail off as you lean down to nip playful at his nipples, and you’re very pleased to see that the action has him sucking in a breath. Something you note and tuck away into the archive of you know how about the man below you, saving the information for another night. “Save a horse…” you look up at him through your eyelashes and watch has his blue eyes widen in realization. “Ride a cowboy.”

You watch how he gulps before plopping his head down and groaning out. “You’re gonna kill me.” He exasperates at you laugh at him. “I’m gonna ride you like you ride one of those damn bulls.” You correct him.

Rhett stared at you in complete shock and disbelief. “And here I thought I was the one with the filthy mouth.” You grin as you unbuckle his rodeo belt, the belt buckle pops open with surprising ease. You and him both mange to get him out of the jeans, but you decide to leave the boxer shorts on. A little revenge never hurt no body.

Rhett just looks relieved to get his pants off and he’s quick to lean up and drag you back down for a kiss. You go happily, kissing him with as much desperation and fever as he does you. You give a bit of and experimental roll of your hips, and the sound he makes, Rhett hold onto you in tightly and presses his hips up into yours as you continue to roll them down.

Rhett breaks the kiss and breaths out harshly, you’re not better than him, still sensitive from your first orgasim. “Please tell me you have a condom Rhett.” Rhett gasps out and nods enthusiastically. “Jeans back pocket.”

You are so quick to hop off and get the condom you bearly recover from almost wiping out and eating shit. You can hear Rhett laugh out breathlessly and as you turn around to scold him, condom in hand, you stop dead in your tracks as you take the time to fully appreciate the sight of Rhett Abbott, naked as the day he was born and on your bed.

“You’re…is there anything about you that isn’t so damn beautiful.” You whisper out and the way Rhett flushes has you freaking out internally. “I could ask you the same thing sweetheart.” You smile at him, before climbing back ontop if him. You take your time as you kiss him once more, slow and deep, it makes your head spin and as you back away, he’s chasing after your lips trying to bring you back into a kiss.

You laugh once more, you never thought sex could be so…fun, relaxing, so un-rushed. There it is again, those three words at the tip of your tongue, you swallow them down. You want to have better timing than this when you say that for the first time.

“Ready cowboy?” Rhett laughs at your question and nods. “Yeah…yeah I’m ready.” His first word comes out slightly high pitched and squeaky. You smile and peck his lips before open the condom up, and slipping it onto his length. It’s then that you fully take in just how girthy he really is. Man is 6 feet tall you really should’ve seen this coming. You can’t help but give him a few pumps that has Rhett gasping out and gabbing ahold of your hand.

“Sweetheart…I’m way to wound up for you to be doing that right now.” You grin and get ready to ‘settle up’ (gah I’m so sorry for that)

You pant a both hands on Rhett’s chest as up lift your hips to sink down on him, Rhett’s grip on your thighs tightens as you begin to slowly sink down on him. Lifting your hips up and down to help with the pressure of taking in someone the size of him. Every time you lift your hips downwards to take in just a little bit more of him.

After a while, you give yourself time to adjust after he bottoms out. Both of you are shaking and breathing hard the break is very much needed for the both of you. “You okay up there?” Rhett’s voice makes you crack your eyes open, and god…isn’t he a sight. Cheeks flushed and blue eyes hazy as he lazily blinks up at you. “I should ask you that cowboy, you look worn out and we haven’t even started.” Rhett laughs softly and sits up with his good arm supporting his weight.

His left hand shakes as it reaches up to brush against to face, and you lean into his touch, letting your eyes flutter shut as you bask in the warmth of him. “You’re so beautiful, I don’t know how I could’ve ever missed you in that crowd.” You smile softly and look into his eyes. “You’re everything to me.” You murmur out, it’s ironic, saying I love you is too much, but saying that isn’t???

Rhett smiles, in a way you have never bared witness to before. Is so…warm and tender, leaving you feeling fuzzy. Rhett pulls you in for a kiss, that’s just as warm and tender as his smile. And you begin to roll your hips, and you feel the shuttering breath Rhett lets out through his nose against your cheek. Another roll and you can help but gasp out into the kiss as you and Rhett begin to pant into each other’s open mouths.

Eventually, Rhett ends up on his back once more as you live up to what you said. You roll your hips and alter between that and lifting your hips up before slamming them back down at a brutal angle and pace. Rhett’s moans and whines are what fuels your actions. Who would’ve ever guessed that this cowboy could be so vocal.

Rhett helps the best he can, but with one arm is pretty hard to. You’re as ruthless as can be, gasping out and whining right along with the man below you.

———

By the end of the night, you’re both boneless and worn out. You fall asleep in each others arms, and when you wake up…Rhett is still there, sleeping peacefully and looks so peaceful in the morning light.

He pulls you closer to him, kissing your forehead and mumbling a good morning to you softly. He’s attached to you as you cook breakfast, arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder, he occasionally kisses your cheek your your neck. From time to time you’ll turn your head to kiss him.

It’s one morning of many more that will share it’s likeness for the years to come.

Fin

——————

Guys…ima need to bath in holy water after this…this is the filthiest thing I have EVER written.

Cut it short at the end cus it’s 1am rn. I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ANON SO SORRY IF IT DIDN’T LIVE UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS

Thanks for reading

Love ya🫶

#rhett outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #lewis pullman #outer range x reader #outer range

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springseventeen · 1 year ago

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OUTER RANGE S1.E3 • The Time

#lewis pullman #rhett abbott #isabel arraiza #maria olivares #outer range #rhett #springseventeengifs

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inthe-dark-tonight · 7 months ago

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show me where it hurts and i’ll lick it better

rhett abbot x fem!reader

summery: rhett comes over after getting into a fight with his brother, you help to clean him up and make it all better.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: established relationship, mentions of blood/cuts/minor wounds, tending to wounds, smut, unprotected p in v, maybe ooc idk

notes: um… idk what this is i wrote it in literally 4 days. i’m just really down bad for rhett abbott right now & i’ve been listening to ethel cain basically nonstop. this takes place after the fight between rhett & perry in 1x6 (i think) also not beta’d, enjoy :)

You hear a faint knock on the door as you're washing the dishes, glancing at the clock on your kitchen wall as you reach to turn the faucet off. 9:12pm. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you’re just hearing things. Then you hear it again, this time a little louder, and you quickly dry your hands off on the towel hanging next to the dish rack. You walk towards the front door, straightening yourself up as you twist the door handle, slowly pulling it open. There’s only one person that it could be.

When you open the door he’s looking towards the ground, his large frame slumped over as he uses one hand to lean against the door frame, the other the other toying with the zipper of his jacket, baseball cap hiding his face from you. After a moment he finally looks up, his dark blue eyes meeting yours with a sheepish look. Your heart drops, his cap casting a shadow across half his face, but not enough to hide the damage that’s been done.

“Rhett…” you breathe out as you look over his features. Your eyes widen as you look over the remnants of dried blood from his nose, smeared halfway across his cheek and down his chin, along with the puffy red mark on his cheekbone that will surely turn into a bruise by tomorrow. “What happened?”

You grab his free hand, pulling him inside and he winces, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Your eyes quickly shift to where your hand is holding his, noticing the dried blood that covers his swollen knuckles.

“Sorry.” You pull your hand away, closing the door behind you as he steps into your apartment.

“‘S okay.” He quickly grabs your hand again, slightly tugging you closer. “Perry and I….” He sighs, shaking his head.

There’s been tension between the two brothers recently, whenever you ask Rhett about it he just brushes it off saying it’s nothing, but you know better. You can only imagine what went down between the two as you look him over, noticing now in the dim light of your apartment that his shirt is also stained with blood.

You don’t ask him to explain any further, giving him a knowing look as he squeezes your hand lightly.

“C’mon.” You say softly, walking towards your kitchen as you pull him along behind you, fingers loosely intertwined with his.

You walk towards the sink in silence, dropping his hand so you can open a drawer full of clean hand towels. As you pull one out, you look back over your shoulder at Rhett. He adjusts his hat, looking at you shyly as you reach to turn the water on and focus back on your task. While the water warms up, you run your hand beneath it making sure it’s at a comfortable temperature before getting the towel wet.

The sound of running water fills the quiet room, until you hear Rhett’s boots shuffle against the tile floor. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he stands closely behind you, and your breath catches in your throat. One of his large hands finds your hip pulling you into him, the other lightly rests on your shoulder as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, squeezing your hip as warmth begins to blossom in your core. When he breathes out, his warm breath tickles you causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your eyes shut for a moment while you take in a shaky breath before turning around in his arms.

You look up at him, his eyes dark and hooded as he rests his hands on the counter on either side of you. His eyes dart over your face and you watch as his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. There’s a warm feeling that shoots through your chest as you look back at him, towering over you as you lean back against the counter.

“Let me clean you up.” You whisper between the two of you.

“M’kay.” He replies, voice raspy and low as he tilts his head slightly to the side.

You stand up straight, causing him to lean back and move his arm to let you go. He lets out a low grunt as you slide past him and walk towards your living room. When you reach the couch you stop, standing beside the coffee table as you motion for him to sit down. Rhett pauses to take his jacket off, groaning in pain a bit, then glances at you before going to take a seat, letting out a sigh as he settles into the couch. One of his arms is slung over the back of the couch, the other resting on his thigh as he watches you.

Once you take a seat beside him on the edge of the couch, tucking one leg under yourself, you begin to assess the damage that’s been done. He reaches a hand up to remove his hat so you can get a better look at his face, tossing it beside him and pushing his hair back before resting his hand back on his lap.

His hand trembles slightly and you reach for it, bringing it closer to your face so you can look at the raw skin on his knuckles before placing the warm washcloth over them. He takes in a sharp breath as you continue lightly pressing the towel over his sore hand. You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are heavy as he watches you, relaxing back into the couch.

As you lift the wash cloth off, your eyes focus back on his hand, looking at it again now that it’s cleaned up a bit. There’s two raw spots on his middle and ring finger knuckles, but most of the blood is gone now. You dab over it one more time with the washcloth, then turn his hand side to side to look at the swelling. It’s bad, there’s no denying that, and he’ll definitely have to ice it for a few days if he wants to even think about participating in his tournament next week.

You rub your thumb gently over his knuckles, bringing his hand up to your mouth so that you can plant a kiss over the warm, tender skin. There’s a slight taste of iron and salt as you plant another kiss, glancing up at him as he adjusts himself, clenching his jaw as he sits up straighter against the back of the couch. He lets out a low groan as you place his hand back on his lap, letting your fingers lightly brush over the fabric of his dark jeans before pulling away.

“Need to get a closer look at your face.” You say softly.

“Mmm, yeah.” He mumbles, agreeing with you.

You swing your leg over so that you’re now situated on his lap, straddling him so you can take a good look. He tilts his head back, looking up at you with a small smirk on his face as you scoot closer. Your free hand brushes his hair back, stopping at the base of his neck to bury your finger in his soft curls and tug lightly. As his eyes flutter shut, he swallows, adam's apple bobbing up and down. You can’t help but let your eyes trail over his neck, fully on display with his head tilted back like this.

The washcloth in your other hand is still warm as you lift the clean side to his face and gently begin wiping the dried blood from under his nose and mouth. He crinkles his nose and moves his mouth from side to side as you clean him up, one hand still buried in his hair to keep his head still. His hands move to your waist, sliding up under the hem of your shirt. The feeling of his large calloused hands on your soft skin creates another jolt of warmth straight to your core.

You finish cleaning the blood from his face, leaning back to set the washcloth on the coffee table behind you. “That's better.”

He opens his eyes and your hands run over his broad shoulders while you begin to rearrange yourself on his lap, pressing your hips down into his, lightly grinding against him. He huffs, running his hands up your bare back and pulling you closer. When he leans in closer, going straight towards your neck, you grab his face and gently pull his head back. Rhett stares up at you confused, mouth slightly open as he tilts his head back.

“Sweetheart….” He breaths out, almost a whine, a plea.

He looks especially pretty in the warm, dim light of your living room, looking up at you with his dark blue eyes. You bite your lip lightly as you hold back a giggle, caressing his stubbled jaw with the backs of your fingers as he waits for you to say something.

“Still need to look at this mark near your eye, baby.” You say as you trace your fingertips over the red mark on his cheekbone.

Rhett shifts in his seat, bucking his hips upwards. You can feel his growing member right beneath your core, straining against his jeans. As you try your best not to smile, you continue checking out his cheek. It’s definitely going to turn into a bruise, but there’s no cut accompanying the swollen bump. His eyes watch yours as you continue to look over his face, rubbing your thumb over the spot and humming.

“Just needs to be iced, probably should ice your hand too.” You’re still focused on his face when his hands travel up your arms, one finding its way to the back of your neck while the other kneads your shoulder.

Your eyes quickly shift to meet his as he pulls you down towards him, tilting his head further back to meet your lips. A soft hum leaves your lips, eyes falling shut as his soft lips press against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself as close as you can to him. There’s still a slight taste of iron on his lips as you dart your tongue out, deepening the kiss.

He pulls away for a moment, chest heaving. “I’ll ice it later.” His forehead rests against yours before diving back into the kiss.

Your hands grasp at his shirt, pulling him back into you as you lift your hips up to try and adjust your position. When your hips meet his again, grinding down into him, you can feel that he’s completely hard now. He lets out a deep moan against your mouth, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Rhett breaks the kiss again and you try to catch your breath as your hands fumble to find the hem of his shirt, running your hands over his skin as you lift it up to reveal his torso. He grabs the back of his shirt, helping you to pull it up over his head before throwing it somewhere on the floor. You can tell he’s in pain from whatever went down with his brother, but it’s not enough to make him stop.

He rests his hands on your thighs as you pull your shirt over your head, throwing it beside his, and he immediately leans in to kiss along the delicate exposed skin of your chest and neck. You let your eyes fall shut, tilting your head back as he continues pressing his warm lips up and down your neck, tongue darting out on every other kiss. Rhett moves his rough hands up your thighs, over your waist, and wraps them around your back.

When he finally pulls away from your neck, you focus back on him as he begins pawing at the clasp of your bra, fidgeting with it for a short while until it finally comes undone. He looks up at you, looking into your eyes as he slowly pulls the straps down your arms. The feeling of his fingertips trailing down your skin causes you to shiver, mouth parting slightly as cool air hits your bare breasts. Your bra gets discarded somewhere on the floor along with your shirts and Rhett has his hands on you again before you can even think, cupping your breasts with his large hands. You hold onto his bare shoulders, his eyes glued to you as he gently squeezes the soft skin, thumbs grazing over your sensitive nipples.

You sigh, bucking your hips forward as your eyes flutter shut, pleasure coursing through your body. When he suddenly removes his warm hands, you groan and open your eyes, brows furrowed as you prepare to question him, but he quickly grabs your waist.

“Lift up.” He motions for you to lift your hips off of him, reaching towards his belt buckle.

Once you finally process what he’s doing, you follow his lead and stand up between his legs to quickly remove your jeans along with your underwear, leaving them behind on the floor. Rhett quickly unfastens the button on his jeans, lifting his hips to pull them below his waist as you climb back onto him. As you straddle his waist once again, your hands roam over the skin above his boxers, toying with the waistband. Rhett’s hands are on your waist again, hands sliding over your skin to rest on your ass before squeezing the soft flesh.

“Look at you, my sweet thing.” His voice is deep and full of lust, fueling your need for him.

Your hand slips into his boxers, reaching to wrap your hand around him while you pull the fabric the rest of the way down with your other hand. He hisses as you grip the base of his cock, giving it a small squeeze. The sight of him makes you let out a whine, his eyes close as his breathing picks up and you begin to slowly pump your fist. You watch his face, brows slightly knit together as he bites down on his lower lip.

You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, spreading the precum around before letting go. Rhett opens his eyes as his dick springs back, letting out a deep groan as he looks up at you, eyes darkening. He squeezes your ass again, pushing you forward slightly so that your swollen clit bumps against the base of him. Your hips jut forward and you let out a gasp from the contact, planting one hand on the back of the couch to brace yourself while the other is buried in his hair.

“Need you now sweetheart.” His hands roam over your back, pulling you down into a desperate kiss.

You hum in agreement, hips rocking back and forth on his cock, covering it in your slick as he shudders. Rhett pulls away, a hand caressing the back of your neck as the other fists himself to line up with your hole. Once you lift your hips, he frantically guides himself to your aching core before his tip catches on your entrance.

A loud moan escapes you, mouth falling open in pleasure as he grabs your hips, holding you there for a moment. Rhett’s eyes are glued to where your bodies meet, slowly guiding you as he watches himself enter you. He lets out a low moan as his cock is nearly fully sheathed inside you.

There’s a slight sting as he stretches you, bottoming out and giving you a moment to adjust. You lean in, kissing him tenderly while you begin to slowly rock your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. Rhett takes a deep breath through his nose, lips still locked on yours as he thrusts his hips up ever so slightly.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless. “So tight sweetheart, feels so good.” He huffs.

You begin to pick up the pace, lifting your hips up and grinding back down. He’s trying to contain himself, making sure that you’re warmed up enough, but his patience is growing thin. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you again before he begins thrusting up into you at a quicker pace.

You cry out, surprised by the sudden change in pace, burying your face into his neck. Rhett lets out a low huff with every thrust up into you, and you let out soft moans into the base of his neck as your climax grows closer. You fist your hand in his hair and he groans, a hand grabbing your cheek to pull your head away from his neck.

“Look at me baby.” His lips slightly parted, skin shining with a light layer of sweat.

He keeps his hand on your cheek as you stare back at him, placing your own hand over his. When you feel the rough skin of his knuckles, you remember why he came here in the first place. You quickly glance down where your bodies meet, moving your hips to meet his thrusts now. Rhett lets out a moan as he slams his hips up into yours, hitting a deeper angle now. You pull his hand away from your face and kiss his palm, then his wrist before closing his hand into a fist so you can look over the way his knuckles are already scabbing up. He watches you intently, and you kiss over the sore skin again, tongue flicks out over his warm skin.

“Fuck, baby.” Rhett grunts, pulling his hand from yours to snake around your back.

He quickly guides you to change positions, laying you on your back so his large frame is now towering over you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he finds his pace again, slamming his hips into yours as your back arches off the couch. With every thrust you’re seeing stars, the sounds of him grunting and huffing along with the view of him towering over you, hair messy and the warm lighting highlighting his features, you’re suddenly sent over the edge.

Your orgasm ripples through your body, head pressing back into the couch cushion as you moan loudly, mouth falling open as your eyes squeeze shut. Rhett thrusts into you a few more times as your walls clench around him, soaking his cock as his pace begins to falter. He quickly pulls out, groaning as he releases himself on your stomach and lets his head fall onto your shoulder.

He squeezes beside you up against the back of the couch as he catches his breath, body falling limp as he relaxes. While he lays there with his head on your shoulder, one arm slung over your chest, you run your hand through his damp hair, the other rubbing up and down his back. You watch him, eyes closed and a content look on his face as you two lay there for another moment, forgetting about earlier and forgetting about what’s to come.

“I’ll grab something to clean you up.” He mumbles against you before lifting himself up on his elbow.

You both glance down at the mess he made, laughing softly before he leans in to kiss you, hand caressing the side of your face before he moves to get up.

“Okay, but we really need to ice your hand after.” You give him a concerning look as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Rhett turns towards you, buttoning his jeans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Okay sweetheart.”

thanks for reading :) <3

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