#rhett's thighs

[lallyloo]

[x]

[buttercreamdicks]

[sparkle-jules]

That laugh though. Whatever you need to tell yourself

[becausethathappens]

🌵🌵🌵

[casperghosty]

They're so boyfriends, I can't deal with this

[callsignspark]

Also how is mailman Rhett doing? I think about him in those shorts often

it’s summer in his story so he is slutting it up in those usps shorts and his backwards baseball cap (which isn’t regulation but he delivers out in the boonies so there’s no one to complain) and most importantly, Miss Marner - it’s Laila, Rhett! call me Laila! Miss Marner makes me sound old! - just brought him a cold glass of lemonade to thank him for hauling all those packages from her backyard to his truck. he may or may not have been flexing after he noticed that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye while she continued to work. (she shuffled papers on her desk while he was in her workshop and when he was walking to his truck watched out the window like 👁️👁️ to really watch those back muscles work)

[attapullman]

I just wanna sit in his lap and rub my pussy on his thigh 😭

WELCOME TO THE CLUB I'M MAKING TSHIRTS

[buttercreamdicks]

One leg over the arm of the chair is bisexual representation at its finest

[lalafral]

Protective Rhett who punches some creeps lights out after they hit on you. At The Handsome Gambler some guy couldn't take the hint when you clearly weren't interested, going so far as to slide his hand down your ass. Rhett came back just in time from stepping out to get an eyeful of the creep copping a feel.

Before you knew it, before you could even tell the guy to fuck off, Rhett was by your side. Taking the guys hand off you, pushing him away before eventually swinging. Without any time to make sense of what happened Rhett put his arm around you, ushering you out. Though there were shouts behind you as you walked out Rhett paid no attention to them until you were safely outside. You alright darlin'? Rhett asked cradling your face. With how soft he looked, his eyes so blue you wanted to fall in, the only evidence that really just happened was his quickly reddening knuckles. You nodded meeting his gaze, a strand of hair falling into his face. Yeah? He nodded back, checking you over again. Once he was sure you really were okay he ushered you to his pickup, making sure you were settled before he walked to the other side and started up the truck.

It was only when he started driving that you saw how much that rattled him. He was muttering under his breath, white knuckling the wheel. You asked if he was okay, assuring him you were too. It was just some drunk ass, no big deal. He looked over to you, sighing, trying to calm down. His hand reaching for your thigh as he drove. 'M fine sweet pea, just want to make sure you are. Piece of shit touching you like that. He grumbled the latter. His grip on your thigh tensed just thinking about it, how he saw red. You tried light conversation on the way home, trying to take his mind off it, reminding how much fun you'd had tonight. His face was still stern, short answers, not that he was much of a talker but he always tried to answer.

Back at home while you were getting ready for bed, his hand already getting iced, he still hadn't lightened up. You didn't know why it bothered him more than it bothered you. He sulked, even in your bed. You finally caved and asked him when you curled up to his side, kissing his cold knuckles. Just hate seeing some guy get close to you like that. Hurtin' you. He admitted. That made you smile, he was sweet like that. Something most people didn't recognize at a passing glance, but it was easy to notice to those looking. You assured him the creep didn't hurt you, and he probably wouldn't be pulling that on anyone soon or he might have another black eye coming his way. Rhett's turn to smile now, relieved that you didn't seemed bothered by it. Making jokes already. He wrapped his arm around you. I'd do anything for you, you know that right? And you did, with Rhett you knew he meant every word.

[rhettabbotts]

practice makes perfect - pornstar!rhett abbott x reader

pairing: pornstar!rhett abbott x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: rhett wants to prepare you before your first day on set.

warnings: 18+ only. age gap. fingering. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. oral (f). squirting. rhett’s hairy chest.

a/n: i just wanted to give everyone a little taste of the man that is pornstar rhett! i’m so excited to world build and share more of this story! i hope you enjoy! <3

“You’re gonna have to relax, doll,” Rhett cooed as he spread your thighs apart. “You can’t be this stiff in front of the camera.”

“I’m just nervous,” you muttered timidly. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re gonna be a star, honey. We just gotta loosen you up. Here, sit up.”

Rhett’s strong arms pulled you into a sitting position, his large hands massaged your biceps gently. His cobalt blue eyes looked into yours and you fought the urge to look away. He was intimidating, but not in a scary way. He was larger than life in your eyes. And you were just a girl from a small town who barely had anything figured out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll. Promise. C’mon, shake it out,” he held you by the shoulders and shook you lightly, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. “There it is, there’s that smile.”

He laid you back and started to place tender kisses against your neck, his lips burning a trail down your body in their descent. The day old stubble scratched across your sensitive skin. The soft glow coming from the lamp on the bedside table created a calming environment. At least it wasn’t hot, bright studio lights.

“You taste so sweet. Can’t wait to get my mouth on that beautiful pussy. Gonna taste like a damn peach,” Rhett spoke with a slight growl.

Your breath stuttered as he mouthed the edge of your panties. They weren’t special. A pale pink pair with frilly lining. His tongue ran along your folds through the cotton, flicking against your clit before doing the same motion a few more times. You could feel the cool air hitting against the wet spot and it sent shivers over your body.

Rhett didn’t waste much time pulling the panties to the side and dove right in. Expert tongue pointedly thrusting into your dripping hole. The lewd noises of his ministrations filled the large room. A sheen of sweat covered your bodies and you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking against his face.

“Goddamn… fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” Rhett mumbled before wrapping his lips around your swollen bud. The suction caused a scream to erupt from you and your juices covered his mouth and chin as your release hit you forcefully.

He slowed his movements but he didn’t pull back, instead he just slid two thick fingers into your fluttering hole. It didn’t take him long to find that special spot inside, curling his fingers and making a ‘come hither’ motion.

Your thighs trembled and your whimpers were loud and wanton. Rhett pulled away from you long enough to start running his mouth.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a damn leaf. You’re so damn sensitive. I bet I could make you come again if I just told you to. So eager to please. Such a good little girl. They’re gonna love you, sugar. Now, c’mon. Come for me, little girl.”

You came once more, this time harder than the first and you couldn’t hide the way you felt a little embarrassed at the sound of your wetness. You nearly soaked his hand. He hadn’t even pulled his fingers out before he was attaching his mouth to your cunt once more. Your third orgasm came quickly after the second and you drenched his face once more.

Rhett pulled away with a satisfied grin on his face, your release trailing down his chin and into his chest hair.

“Just as delicious as I thought. You whine like that in the movies and you’ll have every guy blowing their load in their pants,” he joked as he wiped your juices off with the back of his hand. You didn’t want to tell him but you were even more nervous. Because if Rhett wasn’t your scene partner, then how the hell would anyone ever make you come the way he just did?

[cultivationtrash]

The man is 6'7", has thicc-ass thighs, and the desk is narrower than you might think.

[casperghosty]

I haven't seen the latest episode of GMM yet because I took a nap.

I had a dream after being half awake from a nightmare that I'm on my phone and I got a message that Rhett kissed Link in the latest episode, and then there was a tweet about it from Mythical (don't remember what the tweet said but it was like "ohh we have a big surprise in the new episodes) But my brain was like "Gurl?? your phone is on the table, you haven't seen any messages. You're dreaming go back to sleep, you know they won't just randomly kiss"

so I feel back to sleep and had another bad dream but this time about ghost horses 💀💀

[delopsia]

stalling | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, cunnilingus, hand jobs, a men's masturbation sleeve, PBR! Rhett, implied marriage. (But also, Rhett Abbott being needy.) Exhibitionism, if you wanna be technical about it. Brief Summary: You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

It's the obnoxious squelch of his drooling tongue gliding over your clit that's going to give him away. 

Wet little noises punctuate his every movement. So sharp that they bounce off the walls, running round and round the room and in your ears until it's all you can hear. Has your shivering fingers pulling harder on his hair, yanking him away just enough for one of those deep groans to escape, and oh god, it's only making things worse.

The last thing you need to do is give someone a reason to open the bathroom door. Walk in and catch sight of Rhett's knees against the concrete floor, between another pair of legs. Unzipped jeans pooling around his ass, one-of-a-kind rodeo buckle glinting in the light, right next to where his neglected cock rests in his lap, so heavy that it can no longer stand upright. 

Cheers roar outside. A buzzer sounds, chased by the muffled shout of an announcer you've already forgotten the name of—another eight-second ride. But it's not going to be enough to steal the number one slot. No, not with that shiny new record, not even thirty minutes old yet. 

"Thank you," he's panting, hardly able to draw himself back to speak, as if doing so will cause his whole world to crumble.  "Thank you for letting me eat your pussy."

His tongue is so hot. A wet flame that presses into you, lazily working in and out, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, barely there touches that have your hips jolting. But as quickly as his tongue appeared, it's drifting away entirely. Bold enough to test the waters but too impatient to commit, already venturing up, up, up, back to the swollen little bud that he can't stop tormenting.

You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

"Y' taste so good," speaking directly into you, his voice rumbling up your belly and into your chest, jostling the cluster of butterflies that have been resting there. 

The heels of your palms press into his forehead, but it's not doing anything. You can't escape the frenzied twitch of his tongue, rolling back and forth, a feather-light contact that ought to send you through the roof. 

"Rhett, you're gonna..." The sound of your voice is meeting your ears, but you can't feel your mouth moving. "Oh fuck—Rhett, you're gonna get us caught." And there's more that you want to say, but you're being cut short by your own drawn-out squeal, fingers knotting in those deep brown locks.

Your heart hammers against your chest with all the strength and fury of those bulls he rides. Thighs shivering, nerves set alight as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking so harshly that the noise echoes all around the room. 

"'s my reward, ain't it?" He sounds almost innocent. As if his devilish tongue isn't hanging out of his mouth, the definition of sin itself. "They can't object to that."

You'd like to argue that they can, but fuck, those loose little circles are about to put you on the goddamn floor. Hips writhing, held in place by the big hands squeezing the fat of your ass, forcing you to remain upright until he's had his fill of you. 

"Rhett—"

Hinges squeal as the bathroom door swings open. 

Sparkling blue eyes dart up to your face, and you can't see it, but you can feel the grin working its way across his face. Boots thump across the floor, then fall silent. The sharp sound of a zipper sliding down kisses your ears. Whoever it is, they're only here for the urinal. 

But Rhett Abbott doesn't care what they're here to do. Opening his mouth to lick a long, fat stripe up your pussy, so content with himself that his eyes close midway. And there's not a damn thing that you can do about it. Hands flying up to clamp over your mouth, stifling a whimper that would surely give you away. 

That big, dumb idiot is pointing his tongue now. The soft tip of it delicately dancing across you, like too much pressure will cause the walls of this bathroom to come crumbling down. Diligently rolling your clit around like you're a piece of candy that he can just idly toy with. A cry squeaks out of you, hardly masked by the loud flush of the toilet.

There's no reason that this should be causing heat to pool in your lower belly, but it is. Winding tighter and tighter, a taut string pulled to its breaking point. So close to snapping that every step this stranger takes is too slow. Thunking closer and closer to the door, until finally...

It screeches open. Then, begins to close once more. 

You've never been so thankful for someone not washing their hands. Already reaching down to tangle your fingers in Rhett's hair and yanking. Forcing that sinful mouth of his away from your sex before—

"No, no, no," Rhett's babbling, whining, like his life depends on it. "Please, I want y' to cum on my tongue. Please, please, I want, I want..."

You can't even begin to argue with him. Because he's already wriggling himself loose, and his dripping tongue is back on you, and his stubble is scratching against you in the most mind-numbing fashion, and your whole world goes silent. 

Nothing but a faint ringing in your ears as your thighs clamp down around his skull, cumming without the slightest bit of warning. Head tilting back, thunking against the wall. A wildfire rushing across your skin in the form of a shiver. And Rhett just can't help himself, humming, licking you through it until the involuntary spasm of your pussy devolves into oversensitive, full-body jolts. 

"You..." sucking in a gasp, "have a problem." 

Understatement of the century. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was being paid. 

Rhett leans back onto his haunches, scruffy, unshaven chin glistening in the light. Dripping, even. "But I'm your problem." You don't know who taught him that, but they're going to get an earful when you catch them.

"That you are," weak, you pull on his hair, hardly enough to even sway his head. "Come up here, dummy."

There's hardly a bit of strength left in your body, and yet, somehow, your little motion is enough to get him moving, knees creaking and all, as he rises to his feet. Wet nose bumping into your cheek, nuzzling you in some odd, dog-like fashion that has you succumbing to the urge to slide your hand down and scratch him behind the ear. 

Eyelashes flutter. Pushing back into your hand. "You pettin' me?" 

"You gonna do something about it if I am?" Taunting, beneath your breath. 

His eyes roll, but he doesn't need to open his mouth for you to know what his answer is. Not when he's smiling like that, a lopsided grin and half-lidded eyes. So laid back and content that he hardly seems to realize that both of your hands are making their way down to his waist, grabbing hold of it and forcing him to spin around. 

Boots chirp against the floor. And you're reaching toward your purse with one hand, blindly feeling against the stall door until you can find where it's hanging. The other arm slips around his belly, cinching him to you. His back knocks into your chest, so close that his hair tickles your cheek. 

"Y' ain't gotta..." he starts, but whatever he's trying to tell you dies in his throat. Shut up by the clear object you're drawing out of your bag. The new stroker sleeve you've been saying you'll try out but have never had the patience to dig it out of the drawer. Inconspicuous at first glance, just a rubber cylinder, textured with little nubs on the inside. 

"Can you do something for me?" Ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear. 

It's impossible to miss the shiver that rattles down his spine. "Uhuh." Nodding dumbly. 

"Touch yourself." Comes out as more of an order than a request, but that doesn't matter because Rhett's already reaching for himself. Big hand wrapping around his neglected cock, sucking in an audible breath from that alone.

You can't dig the lube out fast enough, popping open the cap and blindly pouring it into the toy. So half-assed that some of it winds up spilling out the side, running over your fingers and dripping to the floor. But you don't care; a mess is worth the sight of Rhett stroking himself, twisting his wrist just how he likes it, hips greedily leaning up into his own touch.

Lazy, you drizzle some of the lube right onto his hand, uncaring of the mess you're making. Almost entranced as he spreads it over himself, shimmering in the dull bathroom light. 

But then he's reaching out, sticky hand impatiently curling around yours, trying to guide the toy toward himself. "I want..." his head shakes, searching for words. "Want..." 

If this were any other day, you like to imagine you'd play dumb. Force him to put into words exactly what he wants and how. But the rodeo crowd and the booming voice of the announcer are still out there, anticipating his celebratory return, and that new, sparkling record ought to warrant him a reward. 

He knows that he's getting what he wants, too. Hand sliding back to his base, holding himself still as you lower that dripping toy onto him.

His head tilts backward with a gasp, falling onto your shoulder.

All that and you've hardly slid the thing past his flushed tip, almost have to squeeze him to you in order to keep him still, working down him inch by devastating inch. 

"Oh my god," a little waver in his voice, hips involuntarily jerking up into the sleeve. Those knees buckle, knocking into each other. "Fuck."

A giggle rumbles out of him, and you don't need to look in the mirror to know that his cheeks have turned a nice shade of strawberry, set off by the sound of his own voice. One of these days, you'll get him to believe that he sounds pretty like this, but right now, you've got a different agenda on your plate.

"Tell me how it feels," you whisper, slowly drawing that toy back up, squeezing your fist past his cock head, then beginning to draw down again. 

"Feels..." but he's forgotten how to talk, mouth floundering without a sound. "'s tight...and—mmh!"

Maybe it's your fault for twisting back up so quickly, but you just can't help it. Not when his ass is squirming back into you, unsure if he wants to push into the toy or wriggle away, mouth hardly muffling that long, drawn-out groan. Even through the thick silicone, you can feel the way he twitches, jerking in your hand like a live wire. 

So, so sensitive after a couple days of no fun.

Your hand is already quickening. Too eager to hear those breathy little oh, oh, oh's, set off by the flick of your wrist when you pass over his head. Thighs squeeze together, one of his hands flying out to brace himself against the mirror. The one that you can't quit looking at. Downright obsessed with the sight of this clear silicone hugging tight around his cock. The way precum is already spilling out of him and dripping onto the floor below. 

"Feels—feels good," tripping over his own words, voice so high that you hardly recognize it. "Fuck." 

And just like that, your hand stops. Squeezing firm at his base as he involuntarily jolts forward. 

A whine echoes through the bathroom. Pitchy. Frustrated. "Why...why did you..." He tilts his head to meet your eye. "You stopped." Speaking dumbly.

"I know." Grinning. Your hand loosens just enough for him to move again. "Try and fuck it by yourself."

Almost automatically, he tries to jerk forward. Boots stumbling across the floor, forearm flying up to catch himself as his upper body falls forward. Forehead against the mirror, dark blue eyes locked on the sight of that sleeve wrapped around his cock. 

Weak, his hips begin to move. 

Hissing as he draws back, almost hesitant to move, like he's afraid to slip out of the toy entirely. And it's...fuck that's a sight you haven't seen before. The obscenity of Rhett fucking a cock sleeve, how his balls sway with the motion of his body, perfect for you to reach down and grab. Heavy in your palm, so full that you worry what may happen if you do anything more than run your thumb up and down them. 

"This ain't—I can't," Rhett croaks, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "This is hard." 

The hand around his dick tightens, sends him jumping. "You can do it." 

And he just can't help himself. Feet shifting the slightest bit, trying again. Quicker this time, the lube squelching so loudly that it bounces off the wall. His mouth falls open, fogging up the mirror, panting like a dog on a summer day. Soft noises tumbling out of him, unable to stop a single one of them. 

"There you go," you murmur directly into his ear. "That's a good boy."

Pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip. Eyes squeezing shut. 

He's trying. 

He's trying so, so hard. But he just can't move quickly enough. Trapped in the crevices of this awkward position, fucking himself into your hand, arms braced over his head, legs too close together. So frustrating that you can hear it in his little grunts, bubbling out of him with every thrust.

"Please," he rasps, head thunking against the mirror. "Please, please, please." 

You've got a feeling you know what he's after. "What do you want?"

"I wanna cum!" He's blurting before you've even finished talking. "Please—please let me cum." 

The buzz of yet another eight-second ride sounds. Loud. Booming through the walls and into this little bathroom. But it's not enough to cover up Rhett's sob as your hand begins to move once more. Pumping him in tandem with his frantic hips. Drinking in those airy cries rolling off his tongue, hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"This what you were wanting?" Coy, your teeth find the lobe of his ear, tugging gently. 

"Mhm," is all you're getting out of him. And he's reaching down between his own legs, dragging your hand out from where it's still toying with his balls and squeezing it tight. Needs something to cling to. Anything that isn't this cold mirror in front of him. 

Those darkened eyes peel open, locking with yours through the reflection, and his mouth is shaping around what you think is your name, but not a syllable is escaping. Almost immediately, they flicker shut once more. Your wrist flicks once. 

Rhett cums with a strangled moan. Body jerking against yours. Feet stumbling. And your hand is moving so fast that the toy catches that first rope of cum before it can splatter on the mirror, then the second. Smearing it across his spasming cock, creates a dizzying mess with the lube, so much of it that he's dripping, little spots of it scattering on the floor and the toe of his left boot. 

"Fuck," his breath fogs the glass. "That was...oh."

Your hand freezes halfway down his length. Almost forgot it was moving to begin with. 

"No, no, no," lazily tilting his head to peer over his shoulder, "keep goin' for a second."

And so you do. 

Slow as you can possibly manage, dragging the mess of a toy up and down his cock. He's sensitive. You know he is because he's shifting his weight onto the tips of his toes, fist tightening until his knuckles whiten, but there's a shiver visibly running up his spine. Cum spills out of his swollen tip. Hardly enough to count, but it's something. 

"'s good," Rhett murmurs after a moment. You've hardly got to do anything; he's already pulling away on his own, drawing that softening cock of his out of the toy altogether. Falls limp against his thigh, that sickly mixture of cum and lube already beginning to stain his jeans. 

It's a mess that'll have to be dealt with in the privacy of your hotel room because he's already tucking himself away. Pulling up his zipper and fastening that gaudy championship buckle. One of a kind. 

A selfish part of you hopes that tonight's buckle is a little easier on the eyes. 

One of his knees buckles as he turns, a big hand flying out to catch himself against the wall. "Shit," he's giggling, peering at you through the hair that's fallen into his face, "y' got me all weak in the knees, doll."

"Don't tell me you need to be carried," you're saying as if you're not intrigued by the idea of giving it a shot. 

"Nah," shaking his head, smile so big that his teeth glint in the overhead light. "Might need a few kisses to get me through the night, though." 

Eyeroll. Your free hand darts out, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and hauling him in, meeting those pale, swollen lips for a sloppy smooch. The first one lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth, both of you leaning in the wrong damn direction. But then Rhett's tilting his head, nose bumping into yours, and he's meeting you properly. One little chaste kiss after another. 

A muffled voice creeps through the walls. Distorted, but you can still hear those two little words all the same. 

"They're calling for you, Abbott," speaking against his lips, making no real effort to pull away. It'll be a few hours before you get to steal this many kisses again. 

He hums. "Which one?" Kiss. "There's two of us standin' here." Kiss.

Weak, your hand thunks against his chest. "The dumb one who climbs on dangerous animals for fun."

"That's both of us, sweetheart," he had to have been storing that. There's no way he could have come up with that so quickly on his own, grinning like a cat that's gotten the cream.

"You're not a wild animal," adjusting the hem of your shorts, blindly feeling about to make sure that they've fallen back into place. 

Nobody will know what you've been up to, so long as they don't see the bite mark on your inner thigh. 

"I can be," Rhett winks. 

That's an argument that you'll have to settle in the hotel room. Before you can even say another word, he's darting for the door, sliding open the latch, a melody of laughter trailing behind.

"Hurry!" He's barricading himself up against the entryway. Feet dug into the ground, hair sticking up every which way. "Before Archie comes lookin' and figures out 'm not actually sick." 

You can't get to the sink quickly enough. 

And if anyone notices that Rhett is a little looser than usual when he climbs that stage to accept his award, nobody says a word. Too focused on the hoopla of a brand new record, the glimmer of a brand new belt buckle, tacky as all hell and a lifetime worse than the one that sits sideways against his belly. 

...but they might notice when he turns his head and flashes a ruby red bruise lurking just below his ear. 

Sure wonder where that came from.

[fishfooddude]

Baby-Makin' (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Directory

Kinktober MasterList

(Divider credit @strangergraphics)

Watching Rhett try to ride a thousand-pound bull always did something to you. You were in the stands with Cecilia and Amy while Royal was talking to him about something. “He’s up next!” Amy cheered excitedly; you shared her sentiment as the announcer introduced Rhett over the speaker. 

When the gates opened and the bull busted through the arena, you watched as it tried to get Rhett off his back. Your gaze moved between Rhett and the clock. You felt nervous as you watched his arm flay about as the bull got angrier and angrier. The clock buzzed when Rhett had finally been thrown off of the bull. You watched as he landed on his shoulder awkwardly. You swallowed, hoping he hadn’t injured himself. “He did it! He won!” Amy cheered, pointing to the scoreboard where ‘Abbott’ appeared next to the number one spot. “Oh my gosh!” you cheered as you looked at the board and then back to Rhett.

As one of the announcers yelled out his victory, Rhett scanned the audience, looking for you. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you standing in the crowd, cheering with his family. As he accepted his title, his eyes didn’t leave you. You smiled and blew him a kiss before mouthing, ‘I’m so proud of you.’ Rhett’s smile got progressively goofier the longer he stared at you. 

The rodeo cleared out, and you found Rhett at the ‘rider’s only’ entrance. “Hey cowboy. You did amazing!” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Rhett hooked his hands under your thighs and effortlessly lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his hips. You squealed at the suddenness, “Always ride better when you’re watchin’ me, baby.” he grunted.

You giggled at his words and snatched the hat from his head, “I love watchin’ you ride, but maybe… you wanna watch me ride?” you teased, twirling his hair in your fingers. He laughed and moved you to his shoulder, smacking your ass in the process. You giggled and held onto the hat, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rhett’s truck was one of the last ones in the parking lot that night. He walked up to the passengers door and put you down in it before messing with the bar under the seat to push it back. “You got a condom, baby?” you asked as he climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He shook his head and pushed your legs apart, making your skirt pool at your hips. “Then we probably shouldn’t baby.” 

Rhett shook his head, “I think tonight is the night I knock you up baby.” he grunted pushing your panties to the side before pushing his middle finger through your fold collecting the moisture that had began to pool in your panties the second you found him after the rodeo. You moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers rubbing your clit in sharp oblong circles. 

“You’re gonna knock me up tonight?” you swallowed. Rhett nodded as he leaned down to your ear to whisper, “I got to let everyone know who you belong to, princess.”

[vivwritesfics]

Greenlight

Chapter One

Running, running running, straight into the woods. She didn't know what led her to the woods.. But something clicked as soon as she saw him, as soon as she saw the ranch, she knew that was exactly where she needed to be

A cowboy/werewolf romance

The calfs had never been this hard to deal with before, Rhett Abbott thought as he rode along the fence line. Something had them agitated, he knew. He could feel it in the air, too. Something not quite right.

Different, but not exactly wrong. His family didn't seem to be aware of it, whatever it was. Something kept Rhett quiet: his family didn't need to worry about it. It was probably just anxiety. 

Calfs going missing was nothing new. But, in past seasons, they had been in another pasture. The Abbott's had spent most of the morning searching their property: looking in the empty pastures, looking in the barn, anywhere they could have gotten. 

Two calfs missing, separated from the herd. Missing calfs were money down the drain, his father reminded him. But it was more than that, Rhett knew. But he also knew Royal Abbott would never admit just how much he cared for his cattle. He was a cowboy, after all. Raising cattle was their livelihood. 

Rhett hummed to himself, an old Johnny Cash song, as he rode. He patted his thigh as he hummed along, an action that used to spook his horse. But she had gotten used to it by now, thanks to all of his training. 

There was a hole in the fence, just big enough for a calf or two to fit through. Rhett jumped from the saddle. He crouched down in front of the hole in the fence and looked at the tufts of fur attached to it. He recognised the colour more than anything: brown, soft and smooth, easy to role between his fingers. Definitely calfs. 

And just past the hole in the fence was the woods. 

The woods weren't dangerous, not in the slightest. Safe enough that Rhett’s young niece was allowed to go hiking in them. There were dangers further in, mountain lions and wolves and such, but she knew not to go that far. 

 But, if the calfs got lost in the woods? Rhett would never hear the end of it. His dad would have his head. 

"Come on, Pumpkin," he whispered and tugged on his reins. He watched as his horse's ears flicked back and then returned to their relaxed state. She grunted, but she followed him through. She would follow Rhett anywhere. 

Climbing back into the saddle, he clicked his tongue and rode on. Pumpkin kept her head low, relaxed as she walked. Rhett's girl, trained from a foal. She was teenaged Rhett's entire world. 

The woods felt...

A shiver went down his spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. It was like someone was watching him. When his horse raised her head, her ears forward, he patted her neck. "You're okay," he muttered and scratched her withers. "You're okay."

He didn't know who he was saying it for, himself or his Pumpkin. 

A noise in the woods had her stopping. "Come on, girlie," he mumbled and tensed his legs against her sides. Silly noises in the woods were all things she should have been used to, all things he had trained her to ignore. 

He breathed in. There was a scent in the air, something unfamiliar. Not the damp smell that usually encompassed the woods after rain, not the scent of the birds in the trees or the plant life on the ground. Something new, something intriguing. Something sweet. 

But he could investigate later. For now, he had calfs to find. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Standing up, Rhett pulled his phone from his jeans. He swiped his finger across the screen and placed the phone against his ear. "Yeah?" 

"We got one calf," His big brother, Perry, said. In the background of the call, Rhett could hear his father, shouting something as they wrangled the calf. "You got the other?" 

"Not yet," he mumbled, his eyes scanning the woods. But that sweet smell was so damn distracting. 

Their father shouted something. "Dad says hurry up," Perry repeated. 

Rhett grumbled something under his breath, something his brother wasn't supposed to hear. He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He watched his horse's ears flicked forward. She could hear something, Rhett realised. He jumped from his saddle once again, grabbed her reins and walked towards the noise. 

When the calf appeared, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered and held his hand out to her. 

The brazen little thing opened her mouth and mooed at him. "Okay, okay, I hear ya," he whispered. She was light enough that he could pick her up. It wouldn't be that way for much longer, he knew as he carried her back to his horse. "Let's get you back to your momma."

He placed the calf in front of his saddle and climbed onto his horse. The walk through the woods, back to the Abbott ranch, was calmer now that they had the calf. Rhett calmed down, ignored the strange, but not unpleasant, scent permeating the woods. 

His priority was the calf, was getting her back to her momma.

He took her across the ranch, to the pasture the cows had been placed in. The hole in the fence would need fixing, he knew. He knew he would be the one to fix it. 

"You coulda just roped her," Perry said as Rhett approached the herd. 

He slipped from the saddle and grabbed the calf. As soon as all four hooves her on the ground, she went running towards the herd, towards her momma, towards the rest of the calves. They were a troublesome lot. 

Rhett breathed in deep, that sweet, unfamiliar scent no longer in his nose. He glanced back, glanced towards the direction he had come from, but Pumpkin stepped in front of him, blocking his view. 

"There's somethin' in the woods," Rhett mumbled as he followed his father and his brother out of the west pasture. Those fences were secure, he knew, but he still didn't trust those calfs. 

"Not our land," Royal replied as they put the horse's back in the barn. "Doesn't concern us." 

He was right: it didn't concern them. But Rhett couldn't stop the way his mind returned to the woods.

*** 

She was so damn hungry. The woods seemed like a pretty good place to look for food, somewhere she could put her hunting instincts to use. 

But there was competition in the woods. Mountain lions and coyotes. Natural predators, much better at hunting for food than she was. 

It was a miracle such predators hadn't disposed of her yet. 

Night after night, she laid awake in the woods, hidden beneath piles of leaves and branches, scent hidden beneath mud, keeping herself protected.  

But she wasn't going to last much longer. 

When the calf wandered in front of her, sweet and gentle, too new to the world to be wary of her, it should have been an easy meal. All she had to do was lunge and bite down before it could run away. 

But she couldn't bring herself to do it. 

She watched from her hiding place, tucked between a tree and the undergrowth, as the calf chewed on some wild flowers. Such a sweet little creature, she tried to get closer. 

New, unfamiliar noises filled the woods. 

Her initial and silly reaction was fear. She didn't need to be afraid, not when she was an apex predator. But she was an apex predator on her last legs. 

The silent beast, she kept as still as she should beneath the undergrowth. Her breathing was shallow, every breath painful. 

Human. 

No. Not human. 

He was like her.

She watched from beneath the undergrowth as the man and his horse rode towards the calf. He hadn’t to know he was there, had to smell her, right? She couldn't stop the way she projected her terror. 

He was here to get her, to take her back to the ring. 

When he jumped from the horse, her heart almost stopped. Leaves and twigs crunched beneath his boots as he walked, as he headed towards her.

No, not her.  

The calf. 

He was heading towards the calf. 

Still, she didn't breathe, watched and waited for the man to leave. Her eyes followed him as he bent down to pick up the calf. That was the first good look she got of him. Long hair hidden beneath a brown Stetson, a red plaid shirt on his body. He had big hands, easily grabbing a gentle hold of the calf. His thin smile was warm as he looked down at the calf, as he lifted it into his arms. Strong, too. 

He was just like her. 

He opened his mouth. 

His deep voice went through her, reverberated around her and wrapped around her. It had the power to keep her warm, keep her belly full and stave off her fear and her worries. 

His voice was so damn beautiful. 

Risking unveiling herself, she shuffled around until she could get a better look at him. She watched as he placed the calf on his horse, his big, terrifying horse, and climbed into the saddle. His large hand moved over the calf's fur, smoothing it down and soothing the calf all at once. 

The horse obeyed when he clicked his tongue and turned when he pulled on the reins. No, not pulled, simply placed his reins against her neck. 

Maybe he was a kind man, but she couldn't risk finding out. 

As soon as he was far enough away, but still in her line of view, she allowed herself to breathe properly. Deep breaths that made her lungs hurt. 

But it wasn't just gulping down lungfuls of fresh air. She was breathing in him. 

Just like his voice, the scent of him surrounded her. Earthy and rugged, but also sweet, like wildflowers, like the damp after rain. She could have rolled herself in it, surrounded herself with it for the rest of eternity. 

Standing up, she shook off the leaves that had stuck to her fur. Her hunger was forgotten as she followed the path the horse had taken, following the man's scent. 

He disappeared out of the woods, rode towards a ranch. Shit, she didn't realise she was so close to people. People that could have helped her, if only she was brave enough to ask for it. 

At the edge of the woods, she watched as he returned the calf to the herd. She watched as the horses were returned to the barn and the cowboys returned to the house. 

She laid down, head resting on her paws as she waited for him, the cowboy in the red plaid shirt, to step out of the house. His scent had disappeared from around her and she released a whine. 

The cowboy stepped out of the house and she raised her head. She watched as he climbed into the truck and drove across the ranch. He drove through several sets of gates, heading towards the woods. 

Heading towards her. 

Fear suddenly seized her. She backed up, her back end against a tree. Making herself as small as she could, she hid between the raised roots and just listened. 

There wasn't much she could hear from her position; he was still so damn far away. But she listened as he hummed along to the music playing from his truck. 

The Stetson was no longer on his head. This time, he wore a cap and an old jumper, already full of holes. She could just see the shirt peeking out through said holes, the red contrasting against the green. 

She left the safety of the tree roots and got closer to the treeline. If she could just get closer, she could get her fill of his scent. Breathe it in, commit it to memory. 

As the pretty cowboy worked, she listened to his humming. It was like he was humming to her. Her mind drifted as she listened to him, imagining a life different than this. 

A life where she wasn't terrified of everything, a life where her ears weren't scarred and ruined. A life where she hadn't grown up fighting other werewolves. A life where she had somebody she loved.

tagging: @biancathecool

@nurse-floyd

[attapullman]

when and where can we order our club shirts?

we need to elect a secretary and plan our first meeting and then RATAC shirts shall be available