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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

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"A whole new rodeo" - Rhett Abbott x Reader

[TW: creepy drunk guy, harassment, explicit language, physical violence (like one punch)]

<"Creepy guy at the bar" is a Cheesecake Trope™️: we all know it, there’s no nuance to it and yet it’s always just as lovely>

[1k followers celebration!]

SUMMARY: Rhett just wants to get a drink, not listen to some drunk guy be creepy to a girl. Preston Mabel might have a pretty bad morning, while Rhett Abbott is convinced he scored out of his league.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

One of the virtues of The Handsome Gambler was its constant state - always the same clientele, the same cheap beer, the same smell of hay and gasoline. It seemed as if menaces of the real world couldn't put their talons on whoever was spending their night at the bar, for a moment letting people of Amelia County sigh with relief and pretend their hardships were more akin to philosophical questions not mandatory to entertain rather than essential parts of their demanding lives.

It was just another weeknight, the regulars greeted each other with a slight nod or a tip of their hats before sitting down to their beers. One of Kenny Rogers's hits was playing through the speakers.

Rhett was sitting by the bar and had been absentmindedly drinking his beer, thinking of many different troubles that bit at his heels, until a couple didn't become his bar neighbours. Although to clarify, the pair itself wasn't a problem, Rhett had little care for lovebirds, it's rather only the drunk half of it that got on his nerves. He would've recognized that tacky hat with plastic seashells anywhere and at any time. It belonged to none other than Preston Mabel - a man approaching his thirties that hadn't been told 'no' enough times throughout his life. Through his childhood antics, Preston gained the prestige of the guy who throws sand at others and spits in other kids' porridge. Rumour had it, he never quite outgrew one of those habits...

He wouldn't have cared about Preston - worst case scenario, Rhett could have just found another seat and continued his lonely drinking. It was Mabel's companion, however, who changed Abbott's mind. Sitting on Preston's left side, he could get a look at her face and the unmistakeable discomfort she was experiencing:

Giving the man an empty chuckle, you casually brushed his hand away from your shoulder once again. No matter how nice and charming he had seemed, your regret was growing more potent ever since Preston's fourth beer. Although his behaviour was without a doubt criminal you were quite torn about what you should do: part of you was ready to bail at any moment, while the other was gullible enough to downplay your feelings, claiming that you were blowing the situation out of proportion. It was a small southern town, after all - only a fool would expect its citizens to act like the middle-class white-collars from big northern cities. In fact, quite a few people had said that you were 'stuck-up', mostly Tinder dates for the record, so maybe that's what painted your night in the colours of doom: you just couldn't take it easy.

"I'm just gonna get some fresh air, alright?" Your words were accompanied by nervous laughter. Hopefully, a few cold breaths could clear your mind and who knows: maybe you could even laugh at your anxious discomfort. The aftermath of his unwelcomed touch felt hot on your skin like sunburn before the dead epidermis flakes away.

"Just don't run away, sweetie," Preston slurred a little louder than necessary. He was leaning on the bar counter and Rhett was quite convinced it was the only source of his balance. A shiver ran down your spine hearing his words - it was as if he had somehow known it was a viable option in your mind.

In an impressively big gulp, Mabel finished his beer, setting the bottle down loudly against the counter. Hearing that, the bartender watched him closely from underneath his eyebrows - experience taught him that Preston was showing symptoms of trouble.

"Bambi's mine," the man slurred to the ambivalent bartender before burping loudly.

Stepping away from the counter, Mabel swayed for a moment but caught his balance quite swiftly. Then, with a swing to his step, he followed you outside. When the backdoor closed behind him, the bartender sighed to himself and went back to serving beers and drinks.

Although the situation had nothing to do with him, Rhett's gut was telling him that something was bound to happen - and it wasn't going to be Christmas arriving early. Staring through the circular window in the backdoor, he watched Preston force you against the wall. His leg started to nervously bounce as Rhett tried to decide whether it was his problem or not. Whatever decision should he make, it had to come fast.

"Fuck this," Rhett whispered to himself and rushed outside.

You tried turning your head away from Preston as much as you could, suddenly feeling impossibly ashamed of your inability to set your foot down. Keeping your hands on his chest, you tried to keep his away from yourself but not as assertively as you probably should have: the only worse thing than a drunk creepy man was offended drunk creepy man. And there were too many stories of women 'mysteriously' disappearing from small towns.

"How 'bout we go to mine, sunshine?" he offered. His body language, however, was too forward and decisive for the offer to remain an open question - it was more as if he was stating the end result of the night. You were disillusioned that with the state Preston currently was in it was either 'yes' or 'convince me'.

"No, thanks. I should be going home," you answered as certainly as you could. It felt as if your heart was a frenzied beast kept in place only by the confines of your ribcage.

The sound of the backdoor being pushed open directed your attention towards the unexpected stranger. He caught your gaze, for a moment looking at Preston and the anger on his face became only more prominent.

"Come on, girl. Don't be a little prude," Mabel pushed on. It seemed quite funny that he thought calling anyone 'prude' would work in his favour.

"She said no, Pres."

Rhett's voice could hardly be described as calm, it was more of a warning - anger was boiling inside him like a bull waiting for the slightest glimpse of the red cape. Your breathing became ragged, realizing that the ordeal might get a whole new spin as Rhett Abbott didn't seem like a man who backs off easily.

Preston, however, was deaf to Rhett's words: his shaky hand reached for your face but Abbott grabbed his wrist before you could even wince at the incoming unwanted touch.

"She doesn't fuckin' want to, pal."

Only then, when he was physically restrained, did Preston finally acknowledge Rhett's existence:

"Go fuck yourself, Abbott. She's mine."

Without much thinking, Rhett took a swing and landed a punch square to Preston's jaw. Mabel stumbled backwards, visibly struggling to keep his balance. In shock, he touched his face but winced at the smallest touch. For a moment, Preston stood still - in disbelief that someone laid their hands on him.

"Apologize and go home, Preston," Rhett demanded as he moved to stand in front of you. His right fist was clenched, prepared to repeat the offence.

"You-..." Preston stuttered. Words simply wouldn't leave his mouth. "You fuckin'-..."

"I told you to apologize and go home," Rhett repeated. His persistence impressed you, leaving you grateful that it was a man like him who noticed your plight.

Probably still unable to believe he was put in his place, Preston Mabel threw a short 'sorry!' and disappeared around the corner of the building, stumbling over his own drunken feet.

"I've always wanted to do that," Rhett said quietly as he watched Preston Mabel cower away. Then his worried expression was directed at you and, somehow, the shadow of a man throwing fists seemed to be gone. His hand was no longer clenched. "You doin' alright?"

"Yeah, I guess," you answered while averting his gaze. Rhett noticed how you rubbed your arm awkwardly. "I mean, not now. But I will be. Not the worst thing that happened to me." Rhett would have asked about clarification, feeling his anger rise again but your uneasiness was too prominent and so he tried to chase his vigour away. He could ask about things worse than drunk Preston Mabel some other time - should it, hopefully, arrive. "Thank you."

"How'd you even know the guy?"

You felt a blush of embarrassment creep unto your cheeks remembering the events of the morning. Now that you thought about the earlier hours of the day, you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of your naivety. How humorously human it was - to be wise and reasonable only in hindsight.

"He stopped me in the streets," you confessed. Feeling your embarrassment only growing stronger, you started to mindlessly pick at your skin. Your statement elicited fairly mixed emotions from Rhett. On one hand, he was beyond bewildered that anyone could take Preston Mabel for a 'nice man' but at the same time, he found it somehow completely expected that you would get asked out in the streets - no matter how cliche the scenario might seem. You did look like that kind of woman: the type that Rhett would never even think of asking out, simply because the possibility of getting rejected was, quite frankly, ridiculously high to the point of being obvious. If he knew he had no chance with someone, there was no point in putting his neck or rather his ego's neck in the noose. "Seemed nice enough and it's not like I know many people 'round here, so I took a gamble. It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he answered quickly. Confused, you look at his face not understanding the unexpected redemption of your actions. "Maybe a little."

His eyes were stuck to your face as you laughed at his words. The anxiety Preston managed to instil in you was fading away and the newfound relief only added to your sudden joy. Feeling how warmth sparkled inside his chest watching your amusement, Rhett began weighing his chances. He was disillusioned about the reality: the only thing he had that Preston didn't have was respect for others and the lack of tacky seashells. Rhett wasn't the type of man to shoot in the dark, taking a risk only when he's fairly certain of the net result but at the moment, standing outside The Handsome Gambler, he naively thought that maybe it was his shooting star of a chance.

"You think I could call you tomorrow?"

"Call me?" you repeated in a shocked tone. Rhett's heart sunk and for a moment he really wanted to slap his own face for ever thinking he could aim outside of his league. "It should be me, bringing a fruit basket to you."

You fished out a pen from your purse and, without warning him or asking, you wrote your phone number on the inside of his forearm. Rhett's hands were rough, littered with callouses and scars - hands of someone who knows the price of an honest and humble life. Rhett's knuckles were hot, and flushed, as the skin started to turn from red to purple. He was quite displeased with how quickly you scribbled the digits on his skin only to leave him cold in the absence of your hands.

"Just don't call before 8AM, I'm not an early bird. And I'm paying for dessert, cowboy."

Rhett's eyes glazed over the quick writing in black pen and a triumphant smile appeared on his face. Aside from the nine digits, you had scribbled something else:

"(Y/N)?" he read the few letters above the phone number. "Pretty name. So, (Y/N), you need a ride home?" Your name sounded quite odd coming from Rhett's mouth as if he was the only person in the world to pronounce it in a certain way - it sounded special.

"Sure, I'd love that."

Rhett Abbott might have known a thing or two about riding bulls but he was certain you were going to be a whole new rodeo for him - and that bull he wasn't falling off.

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bradshawsweetheart · 1 year

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The new teaser trailer for Outer Range S2 just dropped!!

#i’m sorry #but LMFAO #outer range #outer range amazon #outer range fic #rhett abbott #perry abbott #royal abbott #lewis pullman #josh brolin #riley rambles #riley shitposts #shitpost

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delopsia · 11 months

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About Last Night | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 6,700 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Virgin!Rhett, shameless childhood best friends to lovers trope, unprotected sex in a hotel room, loss of virginity, first kisses, reader teaching Rhett how to eat them out, and a lazy morning after snippet. A self-indulgent take on Rhett's best friend coming back to Wabang and surprising him after his final rodeo.

Someone's gone and replaced your flowers with cement replicas. Hundreds of pounds each, weighing heavier and heavier with every moment that passes. Brittle stems threaten to slip out of your sweaty grasp and shatter into a million tiny pieces.

"What did you say?" His wavering words are so weak that you almost don't hear him speak at all.

But you do.

And repeating yourself is just as hard as it was the first time you opened your mouth.

"Congratulations."

Even from so far away, you can feel his gaze drop down to the colorful mess in your hands. Vivid hues of red and yellow, the dainty little petals still glistening from the sudden onset of rain. In hindsight, an umbrella would have been a good idea.

"You..." his head tilts back up, still not moving, "for...me?" Why is it that you already knew he would look behind himself, like someone better, more deserving, would be behind him?

You're glad you chose this spot to surprise him. Where it's dark, and the blinding stadium lights can't cast a spotlight on your contorting face as you scramble for words. Specific sounds that each carry their own unique meaning; all you need to do is open your mouth and make a noise.

But you can't.

Maybe you don't need to, though. Because Rhett's feet are moving, boots audibly scuffing against the dirt because he's not picking them up high enough. Albeit, moving very slowly, as if you're not real, just a ghost of the past that'll turn into mist if he isn't careful.

His heels dig into the ground a mere foot away from you. Like he's met the end of an invisible leash. Eyes back on the flowers, then you once more. "Sunflowers?"

"And tulips," the words spill out of your mouth so quickly that you hardly know what you said, "you...told me a long time ago that sunflowers were your favorite."

The red tulips only made their way into the bouquet because the florist had a shortage of sunflowers. It was either hand him an absurdly tiny bouquet of flowers or spruce it up with the same color tulips he gave you after graduation, way back when. Before you left.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Lightning flickers. Lights up the sky for the briefest instance. One fleeting shot of Rhett's face. Eyes so wet they shimmer. Dirt on his unshaven jaw. He reaches out. Doesn't take the flowers when you hold them out for him. No, he just...touches them. Like he's unsure if they're real.

"You told me that you were never coming back to Wabang," it's almost strange to hear his voice this clearly. No longer muffled by a cell phone speaker.

"I did," licking your lips, "but I never said I wouldn't come back for you."

That... maybe you shouldn't have said that. All it's taken is those few words for this cowboy to go still again. Doesn't even blink. All he's capable of is staring back at you. Blank. No easy-going smile. No childish teasing. Hell. He doesn't even breathe.

Again, lightning flashes across the sky. Veins of light scattering and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Even so, you catch the upturn of the corner of Rhett's lip. Lopsided. Fighting its way across his face.

His hand is traveling. Across the petals. Down the stems. Right across your boiling hand and up your arm. Feather-light, never vanishing. Doesn't stop until those wandering fingertips brush across your cheek.

All of a sudden, he's taking that last step forward. Closing the gap between your bodies. Thunder booms. Shaking the ground beneath your feat. Feels like a goddamn earthquake. But you can't think. Can't acknowledge the storm. Because Rhett's leaning in and. And. And—

"Just for me, huh?" His hot breath fans out against your lips. Noses bumping together. You've known this man your entire life. And yet. You don't recall ever being this close. But this. This.

You've waited a lifetime for this. "Yeah."

That smile breaks across his face. The last push you need to lean in.

You could never have imagined that Rhett Abbott's lips taste like strawberry chapstick.

It's only for a second, parting just as quickly as you'd met, eyes fluttering back open, even though you don't recall shutting them. But one kiss isn't enough. Not when Rhett's taking his hat off, pressing the brim of it flat against your shoulder blades, drawing you impossibly closer. Your arms find themselves winding around his neck as you meet him again, flowers draped haphazardly against his shoulder, long forgotten.

The storm is beginning to rage again, but all you're capable of comprehending is Rhett's mouth. Rhett's bitten lips and the barely there divot in the bottom left corner of them; remnants of a scar with a story that pains you to recall. Warm fingers grasp at your jaw, careful and delicate, keeps you grounded between every fleeting kiss. Each beginning before you've realized it; fleeting, too quick for your liking.

Maybe it's the kiss-drunk frustration that has your free hand moving, or maybe it's moving on its own; seizes that scruffy chin all the same. Two-day-old stubble scrapes against your palm as you hold him still to kiss him proper. The way you've been yearning for years.

Tiny, hard bullets strike at your exposed skin, bringing with them a rain so cold it stings. Your once quiet world dissolves into mind-numbing noise as hail bounces off of tin roofs and cracking pavement.

"Hang onto me," Rhett murmurs against your lips, so close but so hard to hear. He's stepping forward, carting you backward, leaving you with the choice to cling to his shoulders or fall. Doesn't stop until your back is hitting a cold building wall, your body shielded by the overhang of the roof.

"But the hail is still hitting you." Your lips are moving, but you can't hear what you're saying, not under this metal roof. There isn't enough room under it to cover him, too, not in this position; sleet striking against those broad shoulders, hail bouncing off his backside and landing by your feet.

He's tilting his hat back up, settling it right atop that soaked, tangled mop of hair. "Don't care."

Oh, how his mouth fits against yours so perfectly. A surging tide of warmth in this mind-numbingly cold rain, the only thing keeping you from being whisked away by the howling wind. Teeth nip at your lower lip with gentle tugs that have you gasping into his wickedly talented mouth. Even the stubble that scratches at your skin can't stop you from leaning into it; discomfort be damned.

Rhett's hands are everywhere, running up your hips, pressing into the space between your shoulder blades, curling around your jaw, tightening around your waist. So frenzied that you're distracted by their roaming until that hot, wet tongue laps against yours, and all of a sudden, you can't breathe.

"Fuck," he gasps; it's hard to feel so guilty about needing air when he's open-mouthed, panting like a dog in the summer sun.

Even the trembling that's settled into your hands can't stop you from trying to pull him closer, not a centimeter of space between your panting bodies. And God is Rhett trying his best to give you that; presses you flat against the wall, heaving chest bumping against yours whilst a wayward leg steps between yours—

"Ah."

Fuck, was that you?

Rhett's thigh shifts, has another one of those sounds boiling up in your throat as it unintentionally grinds against your core. A soft pressure that you're fighting the urge to grind against; barely there but enough to have your heart rate spiking.

"Shit," Rhett's eyes have gone wide, the whites of them flashing in the poor lighting. "Did I hurt you?"

Oblivious.

Completely, utterly oblivious.

"'m sorry," his muttering barely audible, already beginning to reel backward, "I didn't...did I overstep?"

Words would work just as well, but instead of opening your mouth, you find yourself stepping forward. Clinging to his wet shoulders for balance as you slot your thigh between his and raise it. Just high enough to press against that hardness that's formed in his jeans, straining against its confines.

Those eyelashes of his flutter, eyes rolling back for the briefest second. "Oh."

As the thunder rolls once more, his thighs flex, muscles contracting beautifully as he draws your leg harder against him. You're not even getting any attention, and yet the sensation of him grinding down against you is enough to have a shiver rattling down your spine. He's leaning back in, still panting as your lips brush together once more.

A siren pierces the air. A steady wail that has your skin prickling. Rhett's arms tighten. Drawing you into his chest. As if he can protect you from a potential tornado.

"'ve gotta hotel down the road," he starts; between the storm and the siren, you're lucky you hear him at all, "do you maybe..."

He doesn't need to finish his sentence before you're nodding your head.

Your back hits the door so hard that the frame rattles. A sound that should be so quiet and yet sounds like it's being blasted through a megaphone, echoing down the hallway. You should be opening your eyes, looking around to see if anyone's heard it, but it's so hard to focus when Rhett's teeth graze your lips like that.

He hardly expects you to chase him when he retreats, eagerly nipping at that thin bottom lip, gently tugging. You're not sure if it's meant to be a warning or a tease, but he's gasping into your mouth all the same.

Next to you, his hand fumbles with the lock on the door, plastic card bumping into everything in its path on its way to swipe through the reader. Slides through once. Twice. Three times.

No dice.

"Are you sure it's the right key?"

"Well," drawing away, he looks over to the card reader. Tries again. Same result. "...It worked earlier."

A shrill beep cuts through the air. And all of a sudden, you're moving backward. Treading blindly through unfamiliar territory. Unnatural gait making it hard to keep your lips on Rhett's for more than a second at a time. Broken with every step. Teeth clattering together. Feet tangling. Shoes coming off. Landing God knows where.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, but Rhett's still moving; all it takes is the slightest collision of bodies, and you're falling back onto the mattress. Not as gracefully as you'd like, but thankfully, Rhett can't see it. Eyes closed as he reaches behind his head, hooking his thumb under the collar of his shirt and tugging it over his head.

You need a drink.

Or five.

Because since when did Rhett Abbott look like he was hand sculpted by the Gods? From the moment you catch sight of the hard lines of his stomach, you know you're in trouble. And that shirt just has to rise higher, slowly revealing the swell of his chest. The biggest part of him; wide, with muscles that look big and pillowy until they flex.

And the dull, golden lighting from the bedside lamp does nothing but cast deep shadows against where he's most defined; the fruit of a lifetime of manual labor. Built for purpose rather than appearance. Moving back out to Wabang suddenly doesn't sound so bad, not if you get to see this every day.

"I know I'm..." Rhett's reaching up, pawing a hand through his unruly hair, poorly conceals the redness that's blossomed in the tips of his ears. "Not much to look at, but..."

"I'd beg to differ." It's out of your mouth before you can realize it. Now it's your turn to sheepishly look at the wall, unwilling to let Rhett catch the horror flaming in your eyes, gaze trained on the wall.

The bed dips as he sinks down onto it, knees settling between your parted legs, slowly but surely crawling up until your faces are mere inches apart once more. Even the flexing of muscles in your peripheral cannot bring you away from your sudden interest in the tacky floral pattern the hotel has chosen for its wallpaper.

But the kisses being peppered across your cheek definitely threatens to break your resolve.

"Hey." Kiss. "D'you wanna look at me?" Kiss. "Hm?"

You're turning to meet that next kiss, neck straining as you twist to catch those swollen lips of his. In the back of your head, you have a sneaking suspicion that yours must be in a similar state. On their own, your legs are rising, thighs hitching over his hip bones like they're meant to be shelved there.

Thunder strikes the ground with a heavy fist, but even the earsplitting noise can't distract you from the way Rhett's hips grind down into yours. Jeans doing little to stop you from feeling the length of him, hard against your clothed cunt. Has you whining into his mouth, rising to meet him on the next roll downward. A wayward hand toys with the hem of your shirt, fingers delving just far enough to brush against skin before retreating as if you've burned him.

"It's alright," Without a second thought, you're reaching down, taking hold of his wrist, guiding it back, "You can touch me."

"'S this my ol' shirt?" He says it as if he doesn't already know the answer, words vibrating against your lips, whilst his hand cautiously smooths up your side. Blunt nails dragging against your skin, stopping just short of the swell of your breasts. Shy.

"No," you giggle, "I just happen to have a shirt identical to the one I hijacked from your closet." Funny; it feels like it was just yesterday. Two dumb teenagers ditching prom to go joyriding around town because their dates sucked, their clothes were too stiff, and the music was one step away from Kids Bop.

"Looks good on you," He's humming, thumb swiping back and forth at the sensitive skin beneath your breast; not stepping that line yet, but debating. "'M sure the fella who gave it to ya was a lot more fun than the noname who got his knickers 'n a twist 'cause your dress didn't match his tie."

You're sure you'd remember that guy's name if your attention wasn't already preoccupied with the feeling of endless muscle beneath your palms. Smoothing up Rhett's chest, stopping short of a tattoo and a scar.

"You can touch me, cowboy," you say, and it's almost a little ironic that you're giving him permission to touch your breasts, considering the heavy cock languidly rolling against you, "I don't mind."

Lightning flickers outside the window, just bright enough to cast a little more light on the way his eyebrows raise. "Are you sure?"

All it takes is your shallow nod, and finally, his big, rough palm is gliding over your chest; he's not even done anything, and you're gasping. So distracted that you're caught off guard by the lips that catch yours, swallowing down your noises as a thumb swirls over a rapidly hardening nipple.

On its own, one of your hands delves into those messy curls resting at his nape, tangling in them, pulling him down into you. His insistent mouth draws yours open, drowns you in remnants of strawberry chapstick and the vanilla candy he sucked on when he drove you here. Doesn't stop, even when your head is spinning.

His tongue meets with yours; such a sudden appearance that you both startle as if you've been struck by a bolt of lightning for crossing such a boundary.

You shouldn't be here; you shouldn't be beneath Rhett Abbott, shouldn't have your legs hitched over his hips, but kissing him is so natural. Easy. Like you were always meant to be wind up here, your hands in childhood best friend's hair and his disappearing beneath the shirt you so shamelessly took from his closet all those years ago. Maybe there was a truth to those undying rumors that once followed you like a plague.

There's a tug on the edge of your shirt, and it's a damn miracle you're able to tear your mouth off of his long enough to get it over your head.

"Fuck," Rhett's eyes downright sparkle at the sight of you, "ain't you just beautiful."

One kiss. Two. Three. Before he's nibbling at the junction of your jaw, working his way down to the soft spot beneath your ear, and all you're capable of is twisting your fingers in the waves of his hair. Silky soft, still damp from the rain. It's all you can do to keep yourself from floating out the window, feeling those wandering lips kiss their way down to your collarbones. Teeth nip at them, threaten to leave a mark, but never quite do.

"This okay?" He murmurs, somewhere in between kissing, licking, his way to the valley between your breasts.

There's more to that statement because he's still talking, but you're already answering him, "More than okay."

Fuck, his mouth is boiling. Tongue like lava as it tentatively laps over your nipple, saliva threatening to burn right through you. It's all you can focus on, sinful noise rolling out of your throat long forgotten. Back and forth, he rolls that delicate skin between his teeth until he's retreating to shower his attention on the other.

"Rhett," gasping, tugging at his hair, "fuck, Rhett."

"You make my name sound like sin, sweetheart," his chuckle vibrates through your bones like the thunder that rattles this old building, "y' gettin' impatient on me?"

Impatient? Fuck, you think you could die happy just with this.

But he's taking your needy huff as a yes, and you can't complain, not when his hands are sliding down either side of your waist, kissing a trail down your belly. Only interrupted by the waistband of your pants, but those thick fingers are quick to curl beneath.

When you don't tell him no, he tugs. You've hardly got the strength to raise your hips off the mattress, too preoccupied with the wet spot that's long since formed at the forefront of his jeans. Don't get to see it for long because the moment your pants hit the floor, he's thumbing open his belt buckle, the old metal rattling as he tugs those tight jeans past his thighs and down his legs.

You don't recall him having so many scars littered across those long legs of his, pale white with age. One of those things you've missed out on, you suppose.

As he settles back between your legs, running a palm up your thigh, there's a different air about him. Hesitation in his breath, bottom lip caught between pearly white teeth. Those eyes flicker up to you, almost...bashful. "'S this a bad time to admit I've never done this before?"

Huh.

"You mean to tell me that you look like that," you're reaching up to flick your thumb over his dusky pink nipple just to see him jump, "and nobody has tried to jump your bones yet?"

"I...yeah, but...I only," he stammers, cheeks ablaze, can't meet your eye, "wanted...you."

The power flickers while you curl your hand around his cheek, feeling the roughness of his jaw under your palm as he leans into it. In the back of your head, you know that you'll have to talk about these feelings eventually; the ones he's so shamelessly brandished in your absence, the same ones you've avoided, fearing the heartache of unrequited love.

But right now, all you're capable of is smiling dumbly as you lean up to kiss him. "I'll teach you," murmuring against his lips, "but you'll have to promise not to share those new skills with anyone else."

Rhett's sudden grin has your teeth clacking together. "I can work with that." He's got a pretty good start, already toying with the hem of your underwear by the time you lay back once more, obediently pulling them down your legs when you lift your hips for him.

"C'n I...?" Deep blues trained on the sight between your legs, teeth worrying that poor, abused bottom lip.

You think he's about to start drooling.

At your encouraging nod, one of his hands falls onto your bare knee, parts your legs the slightest bit. Slow, as if you'll stop him if he moves too quickly; he leans down to press his lips to the inside of your knee. Kissing, down the delicate flesh of your thigh, unafraid to leave a shower of faint marks in his wake. Marks who have the potential to blossom into dark bruises come morning.

Long hair cascades into his face the lower he goes; it's so easy to reach down and run your fingers through it, tangling as your hand comes to rest on the back of his head. Seems to be the only thing encouraging him to move on from your inner thigh.

Hot breath fans out against your cunt, his mouthing hanging open, but doesn't quite have the nerve to move yet. "And you'll tell me if I do something wrong?"

For a moment, you think you catch a glimpse of that old, shy kid he used to be. The one who preoccupied himself with drawing circles into the dirt with his boot because he couldn't handle making eye contact with you. "Yeah."

This old hotel room is so quiet that you can hear the wet, barely-there sound of his mouth opening, pink tongue poking out. Then he's leaning down, licking a tentative, fat stripe up your cunt. Pauses right above your clit, and when you don't voice any complaints, licks back down. It's not much, but you're sucking in a deep breath anyway.

He's trying. Eyebrows furrowed as he maps you out, lapping gingerly at your entrance, the only thing he seems to be generally familiar with. He's a little more confident as he nuzzles closer and slips that careful tongue inside of you. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, such a soft contact that has you whining.

Fuck, you can't tell if the quickening of your heart is from his mouth or if it's brought on by how he blinks up at you with those curious ocean blues. Knows he's doing something right because he's rising back up to where his nose was just bumping into you.

"This shit's hard when you can't see what you're doing," he chuckles directly into you, doesn't seem to realize his lips are brushing against your clit as he speaks.

The hand in his hair reaches down, taking hold of that scruffy jaw of his, "Right..." lifting him just a smidge higher; fuck, now he's found it, "here."

Humming, Rhett's eyes flutter closed, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your newly-located clit. Takes it between his lips just to delicately roll it back and forth, sends a delicious shiver right up your spine.

"Rhett," whining his name. Fighting the urge to squirm against the mattress.

Maybe you made a mistake by helping him. Because now that he's found your clit, he's not giving it a moment's rest. Drawing intelligible shapes into it with his tongue, ventures away just long enough to make you think he's done, then returns with a surprising, sloppy vengeance. Downright drooling into you, drenching you so thoroughly that the fingers nudging at your entrance slide in with ease.

Albeit muffled, the sound of your name meets your ringing ears, "fuck, you taste good." Soft noises rumbling out of him, eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks so prettily.

It's as if that initial shyness has completely melted off of him, downright collapses against the bed. Free arm hooking around your thigh and grounding you doesn't let you squirm away from the two thick fingers sliding into you. Deliberate in the way they hook, massaging against your walls in search of something he knows is there.

Your hips twitch.

"That it?" Lord, he really has no issue speaking into your pussy, doesn't he? Doesn't care that his deep voice sends a wave of tingles burning up into your chest. All he's focused on is laving his dumb, hot tongue over that swollen bud and teasing that sweet spot he's found.

Abrupt hail beats against the window, wind screams as it whips around the building, so loud that your gasp is rendered inaudible. There could be a tornado outside your door, and all you can care about is prying your eyes open to look at Rhett fucking Abbott. Tongue hanging out, curls framing the sight of him buried between your legs.

Heat grows in your lower belly. An invisible coil winding tighter and tighter. Fuck, you're, you're—

"Please," struggling for air, your voice strained, "stop."

Everything goes black.

But your eyes are...open.

"Fuckin' hate this town," Rhett mutters under his breath, the faintest whisper of his voice; your giggle is louder than his words. "Hold on, think I got a light."

The bed rises as he clambers off of it, taking with him his ever-so-warm presence. Leaves you to shift against the bed, blinking dumbly as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Oh, how you have not missed the joy of Wabang power outages.

Something small hits the bed, rolls until it bumps against your naked hip. Feels like some sort of tube, not the flashlight you were expecting.

"Did you get lost?" You croak, twisting your head to look in the corner next to the bed. Where the hell did he go?

"'m down here." It's hard to catch, but there's sudden movement down by your feet. That old belt buckle chimes as Rhett riffles through his jeans. The sound stops. And then. Light.

"Forgot this dumb phone had a flashlight in it," he's yet to outgrow that sheepish grumble, light bouncing as he meanders to the bedside table. The phone doesn't create much light at all, hardly illuminates the room when he places it down, but it's enough. Even if it casts heavy shadows across Rhett's body, right down to...

"Good lord."

Rhett's attention snaps back to you. "What?"

But you...will be keeping your thoughts to yourself. Maybe the light is playing tricks on you. Because there is no way he's that well endowed. Thicker more than anything, cock leaning to the left, flushed red tip shiny and leaking against his hip.

The lube resting against your hip is about to become your best friend here in a minute.

"What?" He repeats, the corner of his lip rising as he settles back down on the bed, back in his place between your legs. God, his chin is dripping from you. Shimmering in the light. "'s there a monster lurkin' in here with us?"

"Yes," and you will not be elaborating.

That halfway smile explodes into a dopey grin. Seems to know what you're referring to as he reaches for that neglected bottle of lube.

It's not a trick of the light. The size of him never miraculously changes, even as that big hand of his strokes a generous amount of lube over himself. Explains why he drizzles more over his fingers, pushes them back into you once more with a sickly wet sound.

"D'you need more, first?" He asks. The both of you fully aware that even though he's got three fingers in you now, pumping into you in slow, careful strokes, it may not be enough.

It takes you a moment to decide, "I think I'm alright."

One of his hands falls down by your side, muscles rippling as he braces his weight on it, while the other...

The first kiss of his cockhead against your pussy has you gasping. Doesn't quite jump into pushing into you, instead pushing upward, spreading your lips around him as he rubs against you.

Your mouth opens, ready to hurry him up, but he's already heard what you're going to say.

"I know," he chirps, eyes rolling, "I know."

There's a newfound pressure between your legs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your delicate, dripping entrance. Pushing past that twitching ring of muscle, a pair of gasps dancing through the air, can't quite tell who made which sound.

Rhett's swearing under his breath, little incantations of filthy words that somehow don't measure up to how obscene it feels to stretch open around him. Lube audibly squishes as you struggle to relax and take that cock of his.

"Fuck," he's barely got the tip of himself inside of you, and he's already crumbling. Unable to sit upright anymore, forearms bracing his weight on either side of your head, muscles downright shivering. "'re you okay, doll?" His hips stalling.

"Keep moving, cowboy." You don't know when you started reaching up, but your arms are looping around Rhett's neck, drawing him down to meet your lips. Short. Messy. Can't close your mouth for more than a second at a time.

It's hard to recall what gave you so much confidence to begin with because it's long since washed away by the drag of his blunt head against your walls. So thick that he rubs right past that sensitive bundle of nerves, you don't recognize the sound it draws out of your bitten lips. Thighs fluttering, clamping down on those strong hips of his, unable to so much as squirm. All you can do is whimper and take it.

"C'n feel you flutterin' 'round me," he grunts against your lips, voice breathy. It's hard to even voluntarily clamp down around him, all to watch his head jolt backward, eyes falling closed. So, so sensitive, and he's only halfway in you. "Fuck, sweetie."

His head drops into your neck, breath warming the skin there, unintentionally gives you a picture-perfect view of his back. A myriad of smooth muscles flexing under the effort of keeping himself up as he pushes into you. So captivating that you hardly realize he's long since quit moving, hips flush with yours.

It's hard to breathe. As if you can't get enough air into your lungs. Nerves wound so tight you fear they'll snap if Rhett so much as twitches inside of you.

"You okay?" His voice sounds so different, an octave lower, gravelly, unruly hair hanging low in his face as he lifts his head.

Involuntarily, you clench down around him. A little flex of muscle that has the both of you closing your eyes. "I think so."

By the time he works up the courage to draw back, the arms bracketing your head are shaking. Maybe you'd have the nerve to tease him if that first shallow thrust into you didn't effectively erase every thought from your head. You can't tell if it's beginner's luck or an advantage of being so thick, but he massages against your sweet spot so nicely.

Your hands are sliding down his pale back, nails biting into the muscle there, "just like that."

"Yeah?" You've forgotten how wonderful that cocky tone sounds on him. He's drawing back a little further this time, albeit slow on that second, careful push back into you. Like he'll break you if he moves too quickly.

Countless times you've pictured this exact scenario in your head; two of you tangled up in a hotel room bed, crossing the one line you were told not to. Steamy dreams depicting a man who fucks you up against the wall, unafraid to take what's his, and whistful daydreams of a cowboy who treats you like royalty as he makes a mess of you.

Never once did this manifest in your thoughts.

His lips ghosting over your features, unable to stay in one place too long. Shamelessly fucks you slow on this thick cock of his, works his way up to deep strokes that make your nails bite into his skin, drowning in the wet drag that makes you feel every inch of him. Outside, the storm rages on, a chaos of noises that these old walls fail to muffle.

But it's still too quiet.

Lightning flickers outside. Lights up the room as you reach out to pry his lip out from between his teeth.

"I wanna hear you," you murmur, squeezing your legs around his hips.

Rhett's eyes avert; can't look you in the eye, despite being so deep inside of you that you can feel his heavy balls pressing into your skin. "Shits embarrassin'."

"It's just me, dummy," as if to emphasize your words, you're leaning up to catch his lips in your own. Unwilling to let him stifle his noises any longer, swallowing down the reluctant whines you draw right out of him.

Such a simple sound that has you clamping down around his cock, downright shivering around him. Only serves to illicit a breathy whimper of your name, starts a downward spiral that you don't think you'll ever come back from.

Your dominant hand is reaching down, fingertips finding your swollen, nearly forgotten clit. A particularly hard thrust has you breaking away from his lips, head hitting the mattress with a soft cry. That initial slowness is starting to fray at the seams, and you don't think you're going to survive it.

"Rhett," your voice is strained, barely there.

Deliberate, he repeats it. A wet noise tearing through the room. Once. Twice. Until he's finding a rhythm, strokes punctuated by his breathy gasps for air and pitchy noises. You don't know if it's the sound of him or the delicious way his fat cockhead kisses that little bundle of nerves, but a familiar heat is blooming in your belly regardless.

"'M sorry, I can't help myself," Rhett sputters, words nearly lost to the obscene squelch between your legs. Lube and your own wetness creating a downright mess. "Feel so fuckin' good 'round me."

Every thrust has your body rocking against the bed, almost can't keep your fingers on your tingling clit. It's a fight just to find your voice."Fuck you like you mean it, Rhett."

When you said that, you hadn't expected him to lean back onto his haunches, big palms splaying around your hips, as he fucks into you with purpose. This cheap mattress is starting to squeak, loud enough to be heard in the room next to yours, but you're so preoccupied with the sight between your legs that you can't be brought to care.

His cell phone light casts just enough light for you to catch sight of his thick cock disappearing between your legs. So wet that it's shiny, catching in the light and drawing your eyes back to it every time you go to look away. Powerless to stop him from fucking you how he wants, bullying those sensitive nerves until you're lightheaded, head rolling backward.

"Close," Rhett warns. If you knew where your voice went, you'd be muttering much of the same.

You find yourself fluttering around him again, heat tightening in your belly as he all but collapses on top of you. Face buried in your neck once more, deep, guttural sounds spilling into your skin as the rhythm of his hips begins to falter. Twitchy. Thrusts shortening. Rhett's name is tumbling off your lips. The fingers on your clit growing shaky. Legs clenching around him.

"Rhett," supposed to be a warning. Something. Anything.

But it's too late. Pointless. Without further warning, your body goes taut. Back arching, shaking, as that heat spreads and washes over you, cumming around Rhett's spasming cock with a strangled cry. Can feel his hips stall against yours, his whimpered cry muffled by your shoulder.

Distantly, you're aware of how full you still are. Know that he hasn't pulled out in the slightest, cock twitching as his sticky, hot cum fills you. That's probably another line you weren't supposed to cross, but to hell with it.

The darkness behind your eyelids suddenly isn't so dark anymore. And as you pry them open, you find yourself nearly blinded.

Seems the power came back.

Rhett's already beginning to peel his sweaty body away from yours, albeit at a snail's pace. Fixated on the obscene sight of where your bodies connect, so wet that one of you will likely need to change the sheets after this. The light of his phone was decent, but the bedside lamp properly illuminates him. Cheeks pink, lips so bitten you're surprised he hasn't drawn blood.

"Didn't mean to..." he pants, voice barely there, "didn't mean to cum inside you." Those and of his are moving your legs on their own, parting them, gives himself a better view as he slowly pulls out of you. "I think can see the appeal, though."

And as his eyes flick up to drink up your expression, corner of his lip rising, the thought of cleanup doesn't sound so bad.

You don't recall your bed ever being this warm.

Or...lumpy, for that matter.

This isn't your bed.

But even so, opening your eyes is a tremendous task that you take on as slowly as you can. Taking a deep breath, feeling the stiff sheets move with your body, nose catching a hint of coffee and something fresh, crisp. Identical to the Autumn breeze that filters through Wabang every year, used to nip at your skin as you waited on that slow school bus to pick you and Rhett up.

Your eyes snap open. A switch flipped.

This isn't your bed.

And this isn't your childhood bedroom, either.

This hotel room is familiar, though. Tacky, from the wallpaper to the choice of decor. Bed frame built to appear as if it's been constructed by scrap pieces of chopped wood, an iron sign of a momma bear and her cubs hanging on the wall behind your head. So painfully trademark of Wabang that it hurts.

There are flowers on the bedside table. Familiar red tulips and vivid yellow sunflowers precariously placed in a thin, plastic cup. A second cup sits on top of the first, upside down, the bottom crudely cut out for the stems to fit through it. A makeshift support. You recognize that craftmanship. As if your thoughts have manifested his appearance, the bathroom door squeals open.

There he is.

Severely lacking a shirt, in nothing but his old, sun-bleached jeans, the longer ends of his hair tied back into a small ponytail. His left-hand nurses a cup of coffee, and the right, carefully supported by an off-white brace. That wrist never really did heal the same, another one of those free rodeo trophies.

"Mornin, sleepy head," he chirps, and the roughness in his voice suggests he hasn't been up for long, "thought you'd never wake up."

"My dignity can't take dying in a tacky hotel room," you don't recognize your voice. Strangely raw.

Sitting up requires some effort. Body still half-asleep, limbs downright useless as you drag yourself up from the mattress to take a better look around the room. Are those...your clothes on the floor?

Images flash through your head. Blurry, there and gone in the blink of an eye. Memories flood back into the forefront of your mind like a bad dream. What did you do? Why did you do it? There's absolutely no going back from this—

The bed dips as Rhett settles onto the edge of the mattress. And though you're searching for a hint, a suggestion, of regret, you fail to find it. He's all meek smiles and red ears as he leans over to place his cup on the table. Flashing a series of marks on his back, pale pink in color.

His good hand comes down to squeeze your knee through the comforter, just like it always does. "About last night..."

You don't regret it. And by the looks of it, neither does he. Has no problem locking eyes with you; something unknown burning behind those deep blue eyes as teeth sink into his thin bottom lip. Lips you would give both your kidneys just to kiss one more time. As you drag your attention away from his mouth, your eyes meet once more.

The corner of his lip draws upward.

You don't know who moves first. All you know is that you're surging forward, he's catching your needy mouth in his, and you're falling back into the sheets as one. Hands exploring, pawing at what little clothing dares get between you, hearts aching for more, more, more.

Words can wait a little longer.

#rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #ao3 oneshot #oneshot #rhett abbott outer range #outer range fic #outer range #outer range amazon #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #reader self insert #self insert #x reader #reader insert

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year

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Outer Range starts filming tomorrow! I am stalking the casts Instagrams for updates!

#outer range #outer range amazon #lewis pullman #rhett abbott

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iloveprettyboysblog · 1 year

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I Watch Outer Range for the plot

The Plot:

🔥🥵

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delopsias · 1 year

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Low-Quality Rhett Wallpapers | Set 1

#the purple and blue one is my pride and joy #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott #outer range #outer range amazon #rhett abbott wallpapers #lewis pullman #delgato's wallpapers #phone wallpaper

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maria-allegra · 2 years

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#rhett abbott #lewis pullmann #outer range #outer range amazon #outer range series #neowestern #gif #cowboy #sad

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bradshawsbaby · 11 days

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IF THEY TAKE THIS MAN AWAY FROM US, I WILL RIOT IN THE STREETS!

#watch your back amazon prime #rhett abbott #outer range #outer range season 2 #lewis pullman

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sarahsmi13s · 1 year

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I love you, Cowboy

(not my gif)

pairing: rhett abbott x reader (last name: knight)

characters: rhett abbott, fem!reader, the abbott family (mentioned), the knight family, josh (reader’s brother that is mentioned)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, she/her pronouns used, language, angst, rhett being his little insecure self, toxic mother, parental expectations, parents trying to live through their children, if i missed any please let me know.

word count: ~3.3k

a/n: this is inspired by the song ‘ladies love country boys’ by trace adkins, it was supposed to be a little happier than this but the angst the is rhett abbott took over.

but nevertheless i hope you enjoy

also: rhett calls reader “doc”

**********

You’d grown up in the city, in a neighborhood full of houses that all looked more or less the same on the outside. Both of your parents were well known in your town. Your dad was a successful lawyer and your mother was a housewife that was president of the PTA.

Your parents had always wanted the best for you.

They put you in dance classes when you were younger, but eventually let you venture out into sports. You kept straight A’s, getting ‘most likely to succeed’ in your yearbook ‘who’s who’ section both your freshman and senior year.

Once you graduated high school early, your parents bought you a car and by that fall you were off to college in some southern town that you had no idea existed.

Your mom and dad really wanted you to pursue law, but you nipped that in the bud.

“Mom, Dad, I don’t want to study law. That’s not something that interests me and I would be burnt out before I even started the car. I’m studying sports medicine, and if you have a problem with that, then that’s on you.”

They didn’t have a problem with that actually. If you studied medicine, that gave you a shot at finding a doctor to marry and settle down with. Or maybe you’d find a lawyer, either way it worked.

So, when you came home holding the hand of Rhett Floyd Abbott -a bull rider from rural Wyoming, a country boy on all fronts- they were a little surprised.

**********

You had met Rhett after you graduated and moved to Wabang for work.

One of your friends had told you about a school in ‘a small ass town’ in a ‘tiny ass county’ needing a physician/team doctor. His mother had told him when she came home from a convention.

But without that ‘small ass town’, you would have never met Rhett Abbott and you wouldn’t have been happier to be out of California.

********

You actually had met Perry first, he saw you at a bar and thought you were being stood up. When in reality you were celebrating your new job.

That sparked a friendship with the older Abbott boy and then he introduced you to Rhett when Rhett tagged along to help you unload your moving truck. Which sparked a friendship between the two of you.

A few weeks after you moved in, your golden retriever, Chica, had gotten out through a hole in your backyard fence. Luckily, Rhett had seen her on his way home and picked her up. He came by and dropped her off.

When he asked how she got out, you told him and he didn’t hesitate to offer his assistance. He made a temporary fix for the day and then came back the next morning with supplies.

Rhett completely replaced your fence, taking down the old, rusted chain-link and replacing it with t-post and grid-fence panels.

You wanted to pay him back.

“How can I repay you?” “You don’t have to-” “Rhett, you came up here and gave me a whole new fence. I can’t just not pay you back.” “Okay, then let me take you out on a date.”

And the rest is history.

********

Now here you were, nearly a year later and you were head over heels in love with Rhett. And he was head over boots for you.

You were still the school’s team doctor, but you had also become Rhett’s medical personnel on his bull-riding team. You were the only one Rhett trusted when it came to medical advice at an event.

Currently you were in the middle of Rhett’s truck, singing your lungs out to the Charlie Daniels song playing from the radio. Rhett was laughing and singing along with you.

Then your phone rang.

Rhett turned the music down when you answered it. “Dr. Knight?” … “When is it?” … “Um okay, yeah. Let me talk to him and see what he thinks and I’ll get back to you.” You hung up and faced Rhett a little more.

Keeping an eye on the road, he gave you his attention, “What’s up Doc?” You rolled your eyes, but grinned at the phrase he picked up. “My graduating class is having a reunion at the end of May. Would you want to go?”

Rhett paused, thinking of how to respond, “Do you wan’ me to go?” You frown, confused, “Of course I want you to go, Rhett. I wanna show off my strong cowboy. But if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.” He smiled at you, “Sure, why not, let’s go.” You grinned and opened your phone, sending a quick text to whomever you had been on the phone with.

“Oh my gosh, Rhett turn it up!” You shouted when the familiar sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd met your ears.

He just smiled fondly at you and turned it up.

*********

You sat in your parents driveway squeezing Rhett’s hand. “Hey, if you’re nervous, we can come back later. We got ourselves an AirBnB for a reason. You don’t have to meet them today.” “Darlin’, I’m not nervous, I’m just-” You arched an eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.”

You leaned toward him, “Can you tell me why you’re nervous?” He held eye contact with you for a second before chuckling shyly and looking at his calloused hands. “I know I don’t bring much to the table.” “Rhett-” “Let me finish,” he said gently, closing his eyes for a second.

“I know I don’t bring much to the table,” he started over. “I’m not a doctor or a lawyer, or some CEO. I’m a bull rider that’s a lot more trouble than he’s worth.” He looked up at you, “I already know I’m not good enough for you. And that's all they’re gonna see. I just don’t want you to see it too.”

You grabbed his hand, the calluses on it rough against your palm. “Rhett Floyd Abbott. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are perfect for me. I don’t care what you do, all I care about is who you are.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “Well, I’m not that good of a man.” “Rhett, I’ve been with you for a year now. You are that good of a man.”

You brought a hand up to his face, nails scratching at the stubble there, “I know my worth, Rhett. And you have given me nothing but what I deserve and then some. I’ve never met a man like you, and I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone like you again.”

With his free hand, Rhett quickly tilted the brim of his ball cap up and captured your lips in a kiss.

Your lips moved together and Rhett’s free hand pushed the hair out of your face, deepening the kiss at the same time.

When you pulled apart, you nudged his nose with yours, “I don’t care what they think about you. They’ll just have to get over it. Because you make me happy, and that’s all that matters. I love you, Casanova.” He grinned, “I love you too, Doc.”

Rhett got out and jogged over to your side to open your door.

You walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

A few minutes later, your mom answers the door.

She gasps and hugs you, “Oh, Y/N! Sweetie, come in come in!” You grabbed Rhett’s hand again and pulled in behind you.

You followed your mom to the living room, where your dad was sitting and watching some show.

“Who’s this handsome young man?” Your mom asked as she sat next to your dad.

Smiling, you put your arm around Rhett’s waist, his hand automatically falling to your hip. “Mom, Dad, this is Rhett, my boyfriend. Rhett, this is my mom, Lily, and my dad, Tom.”

Rhett shook your parents' hands, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Rhett,” your dad smiled at him and you and Rhett sat down.

Your dad paused the TV and turned to talk to you both. “So, Rhett, Y/N has never mentioned what you do for a living.” You tense a little bit. You just knew Rhett was gonna take that the wrong way; but it wasn’t like you did it on purpose, they never asked. “What do you do?”

Your boyfriend glanced down at you before looking back at your parents. “My family owns a ranch, so I work there and then I’m a bull-rider.” Your mother’s eyes widened and you were certain the color drained from her face.

But your dad didn’t give the same reaction as your mom. “That’s interesting, you’ll have to tell me more about that later,” your dad unpaused the TV and went back to watching the show.

Rhett turned to you, “Is there a place we can talk?” You gulped, nerves working their way up your throat. “Uh, yeah, we can talk in the kitchen.” He got up first and held his hand out for you to take.

You knew he was upset, and once you were standing, you tried to drop Rhett’s hand and he let you. Yup, he was upset.

You led him to the kitchen and you leaned back on the counter, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes glued to his boots.

“Does what I do embarrass you?” You met his eyes, “No, Rhett.” “Then why did you never tell your parents what I do?” “They never asked, so I didn’t say anything.” He just nodded and wiped his mouth. “Rhett, look, I’m sorry. I should have told them. Because I’m not embarrassed, I love that you’re so passionate about what you do. Do I think it’s dangerous? Yeah, but guess what, I would never ask you to quit.”

You stepped forward and grabbed his hands, and he looked up at you. “Rhett, you could be a rodeo clown and I’d still love you. I’m not with you because of your job, I’m with you because you make me happy. You’re my sweet, sweet country boy and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.” You saw the blush through the tan skin on his face.

“We cool?” You asked, a hint of humor in your tone. He hummed and pecked your lips, “We’re cool.” You smiled and laced your fingers with his to go back to the living room.

******

After sitting and talking with your parents, you all ate dinner.

“Dinner was great Mrs. Knight, thank you,” Rhett said when he finished. “Thank you, Rhett.” He grabbed your plate and his plate and put them in the sink. “Oh, Y/N and I will get the dishes, Rhett,” you mom told him. “Oh, I don’t mind.”

Your dad cleared his throat, “Actually, Rhett, I was going to ask if you could help me with something in the garage?”

Rhett glanced at you and you shrugged, but you stood up and waved him on to follow your dad.

They went out the door in the kitchen that led to the connected garage.

Your dad leaned against the car and crossed his arms over his chest. Rhett took in his body language. “You didn’t need my help with anythin’ did you?” Your dad shook his head, “No, I wanted to talk to you.”

Rhett felt a pang in his chest. Okay, this is it, get ready to defend yourself, Abbott.

“I think it goes without saying that Lily and I were hoping our daughter would end up with a doctor or a lawyer.” Rhett nodded, you had told him that when you first got together. “But I learned a long time ago that Y/N is her own person, and that she knows what she wants.”

Rhett’s brow creased in confusion, but he let your dad continue. “You’re a good man, Rhett. A lot better than the past partners Y/N’s had.” Pride swelled in Rhett’s chest. “Thank you, sir.”

You dad grinned, “You wanna know how I know?” He leaned back on the hood of his car. “You’re the only one she’s brought home. And I can see it in her eyes, and in yours, that you make each other happy. That’s all I could ever ask of you.”

******

Meanwhile, you and your mother were having a very different conversation.

“So, you’re dating a bull rider?” You nodded, rinsing off a plate, “Yup.” You sat it on the drying rack.

“Are there not any doctors in Wyoming?” You stop for a second, “Well of course there are, but they’re not my type.” “And a boy that rides bulls and works on a farm is your type? Forgive me, but I don’t believe that.”

You turned to your mom, “First, he’s a man and he works on a ranch. Second, why is that so hard to believe?” “Well, you’ve always dated med students, nursing students, and you dated that one pre-law student.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “Those relationships lasted all of a few months. I’ve been with Rhett for a year. He’s it for me.”

Your mom sighed, “No he isn’t. He’s not good enough for you. You need someone that can provide for you.” “Rhett does provide for me!” You felt tears sting the back of your eyes as your mother confirmed what Rhett was worried about in the car.

“Not in the way a man with a better paying job can.” “Is that all you care about? Money? Is that the only way someone can provide? Because let me tell you something, mother, Rhett has provided me with more than I ever could have asked for.”

Your mom crossed her arms and arched her brow, “Really? What could he possibly bring to the table?” “He brings everything to the table. He brings me peace, love, security, happiness, and himself; because that’s all I’ve ever needed. He’s it for me and nothing you say will change that.”

She tongued her bottom lip, “You’re so different from what we wanted you to be. You could have been a lawyer, or brain surgeon, or some CEO; but no, you’re goddamn sports physician in a town that’s the size of our neighborhood.”

Tears sprung to your eyes as your mom started just laying it on.

“I thought you were proud of me…”

“Yes, but you could have been so much more. My friends love hearing my daughter is a doctor. But what are they going to think when I tell them she’s with a fucking bull-rider that works on his family’s ranch!?” She threw her towel down and put her hands on her hips.

Your jaw dropped and you scoffed. “Is that all my life is to you? A fucking award? Something to brag about to your screwdriver sipping, bleach blonde bitch squad?” A tear slipped down your cheek.

“Well you can only brag about one thing for so long.”

It felt like all the air was punched out of your lungs.

“You were supposed to be everything I couldn’t be.”

That flipped a switch and you stood up straight. “I’m not some vessel for you act out your fucking fantasies. I’m sorry that you thought I was, but it wasn’t my fault you dropped out because you got pregnant with Josh. But you children aren’t playthings that you can make do whatever you want.”

The door to the garage opened and both your father and Rhett came into the kitchen.

Rhett met your eyes and could see the tears in them, but by the way your fists were clenched and shaking and the redness on your face – he knew they weren’t falling anytime soon.

“What’s going on in here?” You mom opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off, “Oh, nothing, just your wife telling her daughter she’s a fucking disappointment!”

Rhett’s eyes widened and he stepped towards you, ready to come to your defense.

“You’re not a disappointment, Y/N,” your dad said before turning to your mom. “Lily, why would you say that?” “Because, Tom, from the moment you let her play sports she’s done nothing but-”

“She’s her own person Lilian! How do you not understand that? I never had a life plan for her other than to be happy!”

“Thomas, she’s a physician in a small town and dating someone that can’t give her what she deserves! He’s just a good-for-nothing-”

“Shut the fuck up.” “Excuse me?”

You stepped towards your mom and Rhett’s eyes widened as he tried to reach for you, but you evaded his grasp. He was honestly afraid you were about to swing at your mother.

“You heard me. Don’t ever talk about Rhett like that. Say whatever the hell you want to about me but you keep his name out of your mouth. I told you already that Rhett is more than I deserve, you just don’t believe it because you’re stuck on some idea that just because he isn’t some rich man sitting stacks of money means that he can’t provide.”

You huffed a breath out your nose, “I’d never thought I would say this, but coming home was a mistake.” You grabbed Rhett’s hand and drug him out of the house.

Your dad clenched his jaw and cut his eyes at your mom, “We’ll talk about this later.”

He ran through the house, calling for you and Rhett to wait.

“Dad, look, I’m sorry-” “Don’t be, sweetheart, please don’t be sorry. I just want you to know that I’ve always been proud of you.” You let out a shaking breath and Rhett squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Dad. But we can’t be here…” He nodded, “I understand. What your mother said… it was uncalled for.” You gave him a hug and Rhett shook his hand. “I love you, Dad.” “I love you too, Sweetheart.

Rhett opened your car door and buckled you in before going to his side and driving away.

*******

You were quiet the entire way to the AirBnB, but Rhett kept his hand on your thigh.

He knew you were trying not to break down, but you had zoned out long before you got to the small bungalow. He could see the tears you had no idea escaped.

When he parked, you didn’t move and he went around to your side.

He opened the door and squatted down to unbuckle you. “Darlin’?” He placed his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth on the inside of your thigh. “Hey, Sweetheart, look at me,” he gently turned your head.

That pulled you back, and he gave you a small smile, but you could see the concern.

You shook your head, “I’m okay, Rhett.” “No, Doll, you’re not. Don’t pretend you are.” He used his knuckle to wipe your tears away. You broke down then and there, and he pulled you into his lap while sitting in the driveway.

*****

After you calmed down enough, Rhett took you inside and you both curled up on the bed.

“I don’t know why it hurts so much. People are proud of me, genuinely proud of me… But one person says otherwise and I break down.” He played with the waistband of your sleep-shorts, “It’s okay for it to hurt. But that one person is selfish, they don’t deserve to celebrate your accomplishments with you. Those people are jealous of you and wish they could do half the things you do.”

He pulled you on top of him and kissed your forehead, “You, Doc, are the best person I’ve ever met. You’re headstrong, loyal, and can ride a mean mechanical bull.” You buried your face in his chest and laughed, “Oh, Lord.” “I’m serious!” He laughed with you.

Your laughter died down and now you were just looking each other in the eye.

“I love you, Doc,” he kissed your nose. You kissed his lips, “And I love you, Cowboy.”

***********

hi! i hope this was enjoyable!

this is the first rhett abbott fic i’ve written but i’m definitely planning more because i love this cowboy

and i definitely want to write more for rhett and doc

tags <3 (thank you for being here) : @sebsxphia

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #amazon prime #lewis pullman #fem!reader #rhett abbott angst

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