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Summary: As a two-time Rodeo Queen and a skilled barrel racer, you are asked to be a guest judge at the Amelia County Fair. You learn quickly it is going to take more than your charming personality to gain the respect you deserve
A/N: I wrote this instead of working on my finals, it was an idea I just couldn't shake. I am obsessed with the idea that Rhett folds for any strong independent woman
Word Count: 5,000ish
As you walked out of your trailer, a crisp breeze hit your face. Much to your relief, it cooled you down significantly, the space heater in your trailer running the whole time you were in there getting dressed and doing your makeup.
Your sister, also known as your ‘personal stylist’ insisted it was much too cold out for it to not be on. Even when you assured her it was only fifty degrees outside.
Now here she is walking beside you in a giant puffer coat while you try to tune her out and focus on calming yourself down. No matter how many rodeos you went to, how many speeches you gave, how many parades you've rode in, all of it still riddled you with anxiety.
It did not help one bit that everyone in the ‘Riders Only’ prep area was gawking at you. You did stick out like a sore thumb.
Decked out in a gorgeous scarlet button up, adorned with detailed black beading along the collar and cuffs and matching chaps over your bootcut jeans. Atop your head sitting a black wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
Though, the most glaring of all would have to be your pearly white sash, dark cursive letters writing out ‘Canyon County Queen’.
Nearing what you assume to be the other royalty court, you look extremely overdressed. Silently, you curse your sister for suggesting this outfit.
“That’s Miss. Amelia County over there, Alexis is her name. Taylor is Miss. Junior-” Your sister starts, whispering in your ear before you wave her away, already stopping in front of the two girls.
Politely, you introduce yourself and your sister, shaking hands with them. Taylor immediately lights up with recognition, giving you a toothy smile as her braces glint in the stadium lights. Alexis is equally as nice, more quiet and reserved compared to her younger counterpart.
It didn't take much waiting near the green utility gate before handlers approach the four of you with horses.
“Is this one mine? Oh thank you- gosh he’s handsome!” You gush to the man bringing a stunning bay with white markings on his face towards you. You shake his hand (if being a rodeo queen has taught you anything, it’s how to give a good handshake) and take the reins from him. He introduces himself as Bill, the man who you had emailed earlier this month when you were looking for a horse to ride this weekend.
“Do you have your phone? Give me your phone, it’s almost call time.” You hear your sister behind you say, already reaching for your back pocket as you spin around to face her.
“Here-” You take it out of your jeans and roll your eyes playfully, “Don’t be bad while I’m away.” You chide and kiss her cheek before slotting your foot in a stirrup and hoisting yourself up on the huge horse with minimal help from the handler.
“His name is Merlot, my daughter’s horse.” Bill explains, rubbing the palm of his hand over the horse’s neck before a younger man comes up and hands you the American flag pole to hold.
“Well, be sure to tell your daughter thank you. She’s a very lucky girl.” You grin down at him before being called over to where the gate opens up to the arena, following Alexis and Taylor.
An older woman with a very professional demeanor greets the three of you before briefly explaining the game plan, arranging by flags with you last to enter. Merlot shifts beneath you, stepping back as Alexis’ horse flicks him in the nose with her tail as you wait for the opening music.
Soon enough, some random rock song plays and you are off, pressing your heels firmly into Merlot’s sides to urge him along with the other horses.
You grip the wooden pole and his reins tightly, plastering the biggest smile on your face as he enters an energetic gallop. Your body rocks with the power of his strides, the roar of the decently sized crowd making your body buzz with excitement as he takes you in a circle around the ring.
“And last but not least holding the American flag, Idaho’s very own Canyon County Rodeo Queen! First claiming her title in 2023 and again in 2024, this two time winner hails from Wilson, Wyoming. A skilled barrel racer and coming from a long line of pros, we are lucky to have her as a guest bull riding judge tonight!” The announcer roars through the crackling intercom system. Your palms prickle with the thrill of it all, coming to a stop and facing the audience with Alexis and Taylor on either side of you.
Carefully you transfer the reins to your other hand, waving to the crowd and blowing an air kiss to them as he finishes reading the bio your agent sent. You can feel Merlot’s back legs lock as you sit there half listening to the announcer, his warmth and heavy breath beneath you draws your full attention away from the national anthem. You watch as his ears twitch and you pat his neck reassuringly as Merlot pulls on the reins.
With the anthem done, you take him back through the gate, keeping a smooth trot till you find Bill and the young man with him. They help you dismount, your boots kicking up dust as you land, thanking them again and venturing back to the trailer where you have no doubt your sister is.
-
You do have to admit, without your chaps on it is kinda cold out here. Only a few steps out of your trailer you turn on your heels and sprint back inside, your sister already calling after you. You return with a heavy brown bomber jacket on your shoulders, fixing your hair as the two of you make your way over to the judge’s station.
It’s more modest than you are used to, just a folding table with chairs pressed against the fence on the opposite side of the opening gate. A darker skinned man sits there with a pen in hand, ordering the scoresheets.
“You must be David Acothley. I’m-” You start, extending your hand towards him.
“Miss. Canyon County herself, pleasure to meet you.” He interrupts, taking your hand. His eyes are like warm chocolate, inviting you in as he gestured to the empty seat beside him. You turn back to your sister and bid her goodbye as you sit, taking your stack of the sheets.
“You sure you know what you're doin’?” He asks, handing you a pen.
Internally, you roll your eyes and cringe. Your previous positive thoughts about him disappearing into annoyance.
“Yup.”
And you refuse to make anything but curt small talk with him the rest of the night.
-
“Now up is Wabang’s very own hometown hero, Rhett Abbott! Let's show some love to our local boy!” You hear over the speakers, the crowd quite possibly going crazier than when you were announced. You see a tall man enter the chute, his hair was longer, neutral brown in color. Number eleven was pinned to his back, the paper looking small compared to his wide shoulders.
With a sharp nod, the gate springs open and the massive beast bursts from its containment. Powerful muscles rippled under its dull black coat in an attempt to kick Rhett off. The arena is full of motion, the bull’s thick hooves tearing up the ground.
He’s not keeping his heels up. You think to yourself, pen tapping on the paper. The eight seconds seem to last forever, nearing the end his rhythm is off, already slipping to the left side before his time is up.
His control is way off.
As soon as his body hits the ground you scribble on your sheet.
Fourteen for the bull, sixteen for Rhett.
When you glance over at David’s sheet, seeing that he scored the bull seventeen and Rhett twenty-one, your opinion might not be very popular then. The runner takes the two of your sheets before you can even comprehend and runs it to the announcer’s booth to display it on the board, a total of sixty-eight.
You can hear the crowd’s disappointment echoing through the arena and your eyes flick to the now standing cowboy. His face was turned to the screen, angled towards you. Rhett was quite handsome, you could tell even yards away from him. A strange feeling of warmth and a flutter in your chest took hold of you. So distracted you almost didn’t catch the look of dismay in his face before exiting the arena.
-
Music played over the speakers, the random podunk dive bar you were at was lively with people. Some of the barrel racers took pity and invited you to go drink with them. You jumped at the chance, eager to leave the trailer you had been in for the past two days.
You had never changed so fast, scrubbing off your stage makeup and reapplying a more natural, minimalist look as a few girls stood in your trailer out of the cold. Trading your dressy button up for a branded quarter zip you finally blended in with the rest of them.
You were already recognizing some of the men you judged, unable to recall their names as they slid up next to you to talk to the girls you were with. A few chatted with you, asking how the Canyon Night Rodeo scene was and if they should go next year. You were excited to talk with them, telling them all about qualifying and next year’s dates.
Playing pool with your newfound friends nursing a beer which had long gone warm, you feel a firm tap on your shoulder. Setting down your drink on an empty nearby table, you turn, tipping your hat up to see better.
Above you stands a tall, broad man. You recognized him after a few blinks. Rhett Abbott, Wabang’s Hometown Hero.
“Hey Rhett, finally sick of Cowfish?” Joked the woman standing across the table from you.
“You know it, Sandy. This is a better bar anyways.” He responded, still looking at you with smooth blue eyes. His chin was scruffy, facial hair dark compared to his freckled skin.
“Sure it wasn't cause they kicked ya out?” She ragged, pulling giggles out of the rest of the girls, but he ignored her.
Rhett was crossing his arms, swaying the tiniest bit. Curious, you cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he was drunk. It was like his shoulders were straining against his long sleeve carhartt, the blue sleeves hugging his biceps.
“Hi Rhett, I’m-” You start, trying to make this whole situation less awkward, you could feel your friends staring holes in your back.
“I know who you are.” There was no malice, or really anything in his tone, just calm and steady as if he wasn't tapping his fingers almost nervously against his biceps.
When you got back to the trailer, you were going to pull your hair out. Interrupted again, it was like no one really cared who you were beyond the frills and white sash, even when you were wearing street clothes. You swore your eye twitch as you tried to muster up a smile that probably looked like a grimace.
“What’s with my score?” He asked, just as if he was wondering why the sky was blue.
“Your score? What do you mean?” You laugh, glancing back at the rest of the girls before going back to Rhett. You had scored so many men that you barely even recall who topped the chart and was going out tomorrow night.
“You gave me,” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head, “a fourteen and a sixteen. David told me.”
This time, you did roll your eyes. Why did this David guy have so much beef with you? You didn't even know each other. That’s probably why no guy had stayed longer than to pick your brain on how to get ahead in the sport. Who knows how many guys he told about their less than desirable scores.
“Listen Rhett.” You stated, stepping closer to him and straightening your shoulders, not eye level to him but tall enough so it didn't feel like he was intimidating you. You were close enough to smell him, salty and earthy with a hint of smoke, like he had a cigarette earlier.
“I don't know what David told you, but I only give scores that people deserve. I have no prejudice against you or any other bullrider here. I’m just doing my job.”
“Do you have the qualifications to judge?”
Now that stung. It stung worse than when your childhood horse Oswin kicked you off and you believed for weeks that you broke your ass. Faintly, you could hear the barrel racers talking behind the two of you, the sound of them playing pool long gone. The kind part of you tried to reassure yourself that he was just some poor drunk, to just ignore him.
“Do you know who I am? And don't say ‘Rodeo Queen’ cause that's not my name, buddy.” You snarked, planting your hands firmly on your hips. You await his answer, raising your eyebrows in question as he opens his mouth and shuts it with a click, looking down at his boots.
“Right. So next time you wanna talk to me about scores, how ‘bout you address me by name and we can be civil.” You turn back to the pool table and grab your beer, taking a long swig and cringing at the warmness of it.
“Just cause you're some legend’s daughter doesn't give you the right to judge hard, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
Spinning right back around, your skin burns with animosity. You step up to him again, toe to toe. Even as he stumbles back you step forward again so you are basically nose to nose. Strange electricity crackles between the two of you as you press the lip of your bottle into his chest.
“Okay then, how ‘bout this. Your control is way off, and by the way you hold yourself,” You look him up and down, taking in his stance, and fuck, why does this dickhead have to be hot, “I suspect it has something to do with your core. That’s what's causing you to start slipping off the bull early and why your feet can't stay up.” You practically hiss, refusing to back down without a fight. You didn’t come this far to bow down to a shitty bull rider with an ego.
Then something happens, and you swear you might be hallucinating. In Rhett’s clearly drunken state, you could've sworn the side of his lip twitched up in a smirk. It only lasts a second and you chalk it up to the dim bar light. It still makes an odd ache between your legs, realizing you two had been sharing breath and his eyes were fixed on your lips.
Not wanting to waste a good night on an ignorant man, you step away and call over your shoulder, “And if I remember correctly, you still made qualifiers. So I'll see you tomorrow, Rhett.”
-
And you did see Rhett that next night, it was almost like he made sure of it too.
He just so happened to be right near the entrance gate when you were mounting Merlot for the opening ceremony, chatting with who you assumed to be his friend.
Rhett tipped his hat forward in a greeting, pulling a glare out of you. And now you have to listen to your sister gush about ‘that mysterious man’ and how pretty he was right up until you galloped away into the ring.
Pretty fucking annoying. You think to yourself, and stew for the rest of the evening.
You don't dare say a word to David when you join him to judge, now hyper aware of every time he looks over at your paper. Not that you cared at this point, tomorrow you would be driving back to Idaho never to think about Wabang and its residents ever again.
Taking a deep breath as you hear Rhett’s name get called, you bite the inside of your cheek as he slides into the chute. The bull thrashes once, the sharp bang echoing through the arena, not even giving Rhett enough time to tie himself on.
Out of the gate he looks better, maybe he actually listened to all the things you told him last night. He’s stiffer though, which does help him keep his feet by the bull’s shoulders but it interferes with his rhythm. He was too focused on staying upright, causing him to not be able to move with the bull.
The bell sounds and he falls, feet slipping on the dirt as he tries to get away.
He was significantly better than last time, but far from perfect.
Sixteen for the bull, eighteen for Rhett.
Curious, you look over at David’s sheet. A twenty-one and twenty-two, which makes a total of seventy-seven. You don't even bother watching him find out what his score is, you just arrange your papers and get ready for the next guy.
-
You're fiddling with the generator outside your trailer when you hear your name called out behind you. Getting up, you brush the dust off your jeans before turning around and locking eyes with the last person you want to see.
“So you finally figured out my name, huh?” You ask and kneel back down to the generator, praying he leaves. You hear his boots move closer to you, stopping inches away from your crouched form. There was hardly anyone still here, most of them out celebrating or sleeping in their trailers.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. My momma raised me better than that.” Rhett admitted softly, “A couple of us are headed to the bar in a little and I was wonderin’ if you'd join us?”
“Thanks, but I doubt I’m welcome. I reckon David has told everyone how badly I fucked them by now.” You huff, and Rhett’s silence is all you need to hear.
Standing up and turning around, you stumble back with how close Rhett is, narrowly bumping right into his chest. You cross your arms and notice that he’s just in his button up, striped and blue, he looks infuriatingly good.
“Have you also come to question me about your score?” You ask, it's cold enough that your breath creates steam in the nighttime air.
“What? No I- I came here to apologize.” He furrows his brows, shoving his hands in his pockets. His admission to defeat makes you huff in annoyance.
“Really? You're not the tiniest bit curious why I scored you the way I did?” You pressed.
“Okay well maybe I am. But that was an afterthought to the apolo-” Rhett starts, taking off his cowboy hat and running his fingers through his hair. Hair that you wanted to touch, hair that you desired to feel the texture of.
“You were too stiff this time. Yes, your legs were up which earned you some points but it's not all about that.” You interrupt, gesturing to the arena, “Now, because of your vest I couldn't tell if it was mostly in your stomach or back, but-”
“Oh so you're the expert now?” Rhett grumbled, looking to the sky.
“Yes, actually, I kinda am. You have to be more than a pretty face to win a Rodeo Queen title.” That same funny feeling leaped into your throat as you argued with him. And although you were outside, it felt as if the atmosphere was shrinking even though you had all the room in the world to back away.
“I’d like to see you ride a bull then.”
“Oh trust me, I can ride a bull.” You quipped, turning away and walking towards the stairs to your trailer. But before you could climb the first step, a strong hand grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you back. You make a soft umph sound as you hit his chest, and the next thing you know his warm lips crash against yours.
It was a sharp contrast to the cold outside, the heat increasing as you kissed him back, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him in. Rhett walks you backwards so your body connects with the side of the trailer, the freezing metal zipping through your decorative button up. The sudden temperature change draws a whine from your chest, only halfway emerged before Rhett swallows it up, his hands pulling your waist in close.
You pull away for just a moment, Rhett now kissing your jaw and nearing your neck, “Inside-” Is all you manage to get out before he’s biting at your neck, his cowboy hat knocked off his head and now resting on the ground.
Pushing him away, you bite your lip. Although your red lipstick said it was smudge proof, it somehow ended up leaving a light sheen of pink smeared over his mouth. He follows you inside, tossing his cowboy hat on the couch as you lock the door.
“Wait, isn't your sister staying here too?” He asks in a hushed voice, as if she could jump out at any moment.
“Yeah, but she’s out.” Is all you can say before crossing the short distance between you two and kissing him again. It doesn't take long to get you both out of clothes, your pearl snaps coming undone easily to reveal your lace balconette bra, your jeans already unzipped by Rhett’s wandering hands by the time you pushed open his own shirt.
You were mesmerized by his bareness, Rhett’s torso perfectly displaying softness and pure muscle. Your stomach flips as you look down to the bulge in his blue jeans. Catching his hands trying to pull your own jeans over the swell of your ass, you take him to the small bedroom, if you could call it that.
You push him to sit on the bed, sheets still messed up from this morning. Stepping back, you push your jeans down, kicking them and your boots behind you. Rhett impulsively reaches out, hooking a finger into your thong before you smack his hand away.
“No touching.” You chide, watching him nod like a big, dumb puppy. His obedience causes the inside of your thighs to tingle, his eyes almost looking sorrowful as you reach behind yourself and unhook your bra, tossing it to join your jeans.
In just socks and panties, you step between his jean-clad thighs, running your fingers through his hair and kissing him. He tentatively touches his fingertips to your sides, so light you could barely feel them. They inched their way up your body before stopping before your breasts, pausing for a moment then swiping his thumbs boldly over the underside of them.
Catching his wrists, you push his hands down and away from you, halting your kisses.
“What did I say about no touching, Rhett?” You firmly scold, watching his eyes widen and his cheeks grow impossibly redder, the flush continuing down to his chest.
“Take off your pants.” You command and let him go, watching as he jumps up and kicks off his boots, nearly tearing off his pants and boxers. His cock slapped against his lower stomach, the thick head a deep purple with the lack of attention. You start to wonder how far you can take this, break down this cowboy you hardly know.
“Get to your knees.” You say simply, watching as Rhett pauses only for a moment before dropping with a soft thud to the linoleum. His nose is basically touching the fabric of your thong, his warm breath fanning over you. Dropping your panties you tangle a fist in his hair and spread your legs a bit, pushing his face closer.
It doesn't take much convincing before his hands are on your thighs, urging them further apart. His tongue parts you with ease, a moan already rattling in your lungs. He laps at you like a man starved, stubble chafing your inner thighs as his brow furrows in concentration.
With his eyes closed you can see a few small freckles marking his eyelids, though you only notice it for a second until he sucks your clit in his mouth, your vision going blurry. It doesn't take long till you are pulling him away by his hair, a string of drool connecting his mouth to you as he parts. You don't even notice how bad your legs are shaking till he loosens his grasp on them.
Your hand cups his jaw, thumb running over his swollen pink lips before you nod to the bed, unable to speak. He clambers up to the bed, his knees popping as he stands. Crawling over his naked body, you straddle his narrow hips and pin his hands above his head, kissing down his neck. You suck a sneaky bruise under his collarbone, feeling him wiggle under you.
Looking up, you try to find something to restrain him with. The only thing nearby is your sweater resting on a pillow, and surely that won't do. Then you remember a certain something hanging from the wall behind you.
Getting up and snatching it from a nail in the wall, you return to your earlier position with your silky white sash in hand. Rhett looks up at his hands as you tie them together with the fabric. And you know your sister will be screaming about it later but you really can't find the mindset to even care right now.
Gently, you trail your manicured fingernails down his wrists and then his biceps, all the way down to his chest and torso till you wrap a hand around his thick cock, smearing the head through your dripping folds. You can feel his breathing quicken as you lean down to whisper in his ear.
“I'll show you how to ride a bull.”
And his gasp when you sink down will forever be one of the sweetest noises you will ever hear. His fists clench as you lower yourself slowly, your nails biting into his ribs. You pant till you're lightheaded, the stretch almost too much. Fully seated, you let your head fall back and a long whine escaped your throat. No matter how many times you blink, it’s still blurry, the ceiling nothing but a flat plane of color.
“God- you’resofuckin’beautiful-” Rhett praises you in one breath, his muscles getting twitchier the longer you wait to move. You grind down on him, his pubic hair just the right amount of friction to rub your swollen clit on.
Lolling your head back up, you bite your lip, raising yourself up a few centimeters before dropping back down, testing the waters. The sting is glorious and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Rhett struggles against the sash, clenching and unclenching his fists as you tentatively ride him. The cursive letters are all wonky, pulled tight against his wrists. You could bet money the tip of his dick was pressing hard against your cervix as you struggled to take him whole.
You can already feel sweat gathering in the pits of your knees, a sheen covering Rhett’s flushed chest as he panted and groaned, begging for more. The drag of his cock filled you to the brim, making you unable to take a breath when you were fully seated. You move your hands to his chest, thumbs brushing over his pink nipples before leaning down and sucking one into your mouth, pinching the other.
“Please darlin’ I- ohh…” Rhett whimpered, skin stretched thin over his chest and showing his ribs and he squirmed under your touch. His pleading tone made your pussy clench, a swell of ecstasy shooting you right in the chest.
You take pity on him, sitting up and quickening your pace as you steady yourself on his chest. The bed rattles under your motion, the mattress squeaking with effort. You can feel his hips canting upwards in an attempt to meet yours.
Slowing, you lean back and plant your hands firmly on his thighs behind you. The new change in position already has you keening, the head of his dick pressing into something that causes stars to burst behind your eyelids. A spot that you could never quite reach with your fingers when you were masturbating, a spot that has you choked up and gasping as you ride him.
Riding him recklessly, you feel a familiar pressure build in your lower half. You steady yourself on one hand, the other massaging your clit to bring you closer and closer. The two of you have locked eyes, half-lidded yes, but all you need to communicate as words die on your tongue. Your cheeks are burning, hair sticking to your forehead while beads of sweat run down your spine.
“Rh-Rhett… I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” You start, lips tingling as you fail to finish your thought. He was already nodding, a fist grasping at the pillow above him and you genuinely thought he was going to shred it.
The balloon inside you pops violently, so much so it has you bordering on dizzy and sick. A wet gush dampens your inner thighs and all of Rhett’s lower stomach, the frantic slapping of his hips on your ass turns increasingly wetter. It takes everything in you to hold yourself upright, gasping for air as your vision tunes in and out.
Catching yourself on his chest as you fall forward, he lifts his thighs and pounds into you like a jackhammer. Faintly you can hear him crying out your name like a prayer, as if it would be the only thing that could save him. His motions grow sloppy till he stops, the feeling of his hot cum pumping into you like a mini orgasm and zapping you back to life.
Your throat was sore from crying out, nose burning from hyperventilation. Placing soft kisses on Rhett’s warm neck, you blindly reach up and somehow untie him. His wrists are red and bordering on raw from struggling. The fabric is wrecked and stretched thin, the letters no longer spelling out your status.
It gets thrown off the bed in exchange for kisses from Rhett. With his hands finally free he cups your breasts and gently tweaks your nipples, smiling against your mouth when you whimper.
“Don't leave for the bar.” You murmur against his plush lips, his cock still inside your cum-filled pussy.
“Wouldn't dream of it.” He mumbles in return, rough hands smoothing down your bare back and making you shiver.
Chapter Summary: A night at the bar leads to some unexpected findings, unknowingly you are now tied to Rhett Abbott for life.
Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Minors DNI- mentioned nausea (no actual vomiting), violence (not against the reader), angst
Word Count: 4,300ish
A/N: Heyy... I'm real happy to be back, life was beyond crazy but I am finally into writing for YS! I hope you love it as much as I do :)
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It was eerily quiet in your parent’s house tonight. No one at the dinner table was talking so the clink of their forks took up most of the space. Faintly, you could hear the TV in the living room, some infomercial about gardening supplies on.
It was odd for the house to be this quiet. You grew up with plenty of siblings, and even nieces and nephews as the years progressed. Always squealing, bickering, and laughing. Now with your dad sick, the residence had taken a more solemn air. It was like everything was greyer too. The normally powder blue walls were dull and fading, the once pristine white carpet yellowing as your dad got sicker.
Madison, your mom, and your older brother Christopher all ate in the dining room while your dad laid in his recliner watching the infomercial. He rarely left the spot, only to leave for the doctors or to the bathroom.
“Remind me where you are going?” Your mother’s question draws you back from your thoughts, the overhead light harsh on her worn features. Looking down you could see that even after being at the table for twenty minutes, she still had barely touched her food.
Your mom was dying just as he was.
Clearing your throat before answering, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, “I’m meeting a coworker for drinks. Beth lives here and commutes to Lander.”
“On a Wednesday night?” She cocks her eyebrow and you nod, turning back to your food. An awkward silence settles around your family. She forgets you are twenty-nine, old enough to live on your own and make your own choices, even if they were dumb ones like going out on a work night.
“Ma, wanna know what ridiculous thing a kid said at the daycare today?” Madison’s voice cuts through the thick fog and saves you, drawing whatever judgement your mom had against you away. Christopher was on his phone, not paying attention to anything while he typed.
Without much protest (thank god) you excused yourself from the dinner table and to the kitchen to put away your dishes. Your dad’s chair was rocking the tiniest bit, the TV now playing some cop show. He normally sat tall in that chair, his head poking above the headrest. Here he was slouched, his body compressed.
Picking up your bag you padded over to the side of his chair, teeth worrying your bottom lip. His skin was patchy, mottled with age spots and bruises due to the nature of his condition. You weren't even sure if he was awake, his eyes glassy and lids droopy. It wasn't till you placed a delicate hand on his shoulder that his head twitched towards you, a smile ghosting over his lips.
Taking his cold, boney hand from his lap and holding it between yours, you were desperate to warm him up. He opened his mouth and let out a weak cough, the motion rattling his whole body.
“I’m leaving, but I’ll come back on Friday to hang out with you.” It took everything in your face to muster up a smile that felt convincing enough. You could tell he saw right through it though. He always knew, some days it felt like he knew you better than yourself.
Simply nodding, his attention was turned back to the TV, “Be safe, darlin’” he whispered, lightly squeezing one of your hands.
-
You're not exactly sure how you managed to get to the bar in one piece. Leaving your parent’s home you were completely on autopilot, trusting that you would somehow find yourself under the neon glow of various signs in the podunk dive bar. It smells of smoke and cologne, the jukebox loud along with chattering voices.
As Beth spoke, your mind wandered. Nodding absent-mindedly and snorting through your nose, a resemblance of a laugh. You were mostly thinking about the sharp spring digging into your back from the worn booth.
And you felt bad for saying yes to drinks.
The hangnail on your thumb took the brunt of your worries, the skin chewed clean off and left you with a raw spot right next to your polished nail. Hand sanitizer was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow.
Holding on to the conversation by a fraying thread, something caught your eye- a familiar, no, two familiar figures walking through the door. Your heart lurched and so did your stomach, bile rising in your throat. They both went to the bar, their backs turned towards you. Clenching your drink tighter, both of them just standing there.
Perry with his weight shifted to his left leg, standing like he always has. Rhett in his usually relaxed state, never standing to his full height.
It was too much to process in that moment, your mind so twisted with worry over your dad that you couldn't seem to focus on anything. For a long beat, you just stared. The hum of the bar muffled your coworker, the air humid and your lungs were begging for fresh air.
“Hey-” She called your name, distant to your ears, “Are you okay?” Beth asked and your eyes flickered away from them, but their image was burned into your retinas, like you couldn't unsee them.
Opening your mouth slightly, no sound came out. She pried the cup from your hands and set it off to the side, clearly concerned for your wellbeing, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Beth assured you, nodding as if she was more assuring herself that a glass of water would fix your catatonic state. Once you realized what she was doing you shook your head frantically, practically falling out of your seat as you tried to grasp at her elbow to stop her. Now alone in the booth you felt naked, the dim overhead light beating down on you like the sun.
A dark pit forms in your stomach as you helplessly witness her push her way between a burly man and Perry, sticking her arm out to get the bartender’s attention first. The bartender is over to her in an instant, and although you cannot hear a single thing she is saying, you know exactly what came out of her mouth as she throws a thumb behind her gesturing to you.
To your horror, you notice Perry looking down at her and you can see that his eyebrows are furrowed together, confused at her intrusion. When Perry turns his head, following her thumb, it’s like slow motion. You swear his face goes through all five stages of grief as he locks eyes with you. Sinking down into the booth you cover your mouth with your hand, pressing hard against your lips.
You feel like throwing up.
Then there was Rhett. You had almost completely forgotten he was there until you noticed motion by Perry’s side. While Perry already turned away from you (although you could tell he felt different, his shoulders pushed higher as if he was using them to shield him from you), Rhett was fully facing you. Turned around and leaning on the bar, his head cocked an almost imperceptible amount.
Chest tightening, you felt your pulse quicken.
You looked away like the whole thing didn't matter.
But it did. It always mattered.
“Here, drink this.” Beth shoves a glass of water under your nose and you take it, pressing the rim to your lips. The droplets of water seep into the cracks of your dry lips and you breathe in the smell of the cup, the scent of dish soap lingering.
Beth was looking at you expectantly, “Seriously, are you good?”
You take a slow drink of the water, letting it coat your mouth and throat. Admittedly, it did feel nice to wash away all remnants of your beer from your teeth, "Yeah... I just saw an ex of mine," you say, trying to sound casual, even though you can feel the tension creeping in. "Haven't seen him in ages, so it kind of threw me off."
“Oh my gosh, who?” Beth whispered, looking around at all the men in the packed bar. You let out a shocked laugh, grabbing her hand that rested on the table in an attempt to stop her head from whipping around.
She knew him. She just met him.
“Beth stop that.” You scolded her, rolling your eyes as she looked back at you and giggled. You didn't dare even look over at the bar, even if you knew Perry and Rhett were no longer there, “It’s not funny, seriously. I’m never going to tell you.”
She arched a well-groomed brow, her smile unwavering, “Come on, I’m not gonna bite," Her voice sweet but persistent, “Who is it? Just tell me, I won’t say anything, promise.”
Both men were somewhere in this room, and the thought of not knowing exactly where made your heart hammer. You were surprised Beth couldn't hear the erratic beats from your chest. You shifted in your seat, that damn spring digging into a kidney. Your fingers drummed on the glass as you desperately tried to come up with something to say.
Anything, anything at all would progress this painful situation.
Trying again to assure her, you attempted to keep your tone airy, but it came out more weighted than you meant, “It’s really not a big deal. I just don’t want to talk about it, not here.” You practically begged and Beth finally sat back in her side of the booth, letting out an exasperated sigh, being dramatic.
“Fine. I'll get it out of you someday.” She concluded playfully, a smile curling her glossed lips upward. You managed a small smile in return, trying to breathe out the tension that was crawling up your spine. The weight of everything that wasn’t verbalized hung between you, and for a moment, you felt like you might suffocate under it. But you pushed it down, trying to force your mind away from Perry and Rhett.
-
Your skin was flushed and warm, buzzing with a few tequila shots. You surveyed Beth lining up her shot on the green felt of the pool table, dark brows furrowed in deadly serious concentration. Your fingers busied themselves with chalking up your wood pool stick, giggling as she stepped back once again to examine the angle of the pocket.
“Better make this one count.” You teased with a grin, quickly pressing your lips together as she shot a glare at you, leaning down again to analyze her chances, “You're not going to blame it on the crowd this time, right?” The two of you had already shed your sweaters, the knitted tops laying side by side in a chair close.
Beth took the shot and the cue ball connected with a clean smack, sending the blue striped ball toward the corner pocket. The two of you held your breath as it teetered on the edge, failing to fall in.
“Your turn.” She shot you a tipsy grin and adjusted the strap on her tank top. A group of men nearby cheered at their own game, drawing Beth’s attention away from you. Walking over to the cue ball you lean in, lining up your shot. Looking up, you see him.
The music swelled in the background, a pulsing rhythm that matched the beat of your heart. His face was still bruised from falling into the dirt, only the darkest spots shown in the dim light. You could still feel the pull of him. The same pull you felt at the rodeo, the same pull you felt six years ago. Rhett sat alone at the bar, one elbow propped up on the bar top- eyes unfocused. He wasn't looking at you. Like he was lost deep in thought, a thousand miles away.
You studied him for a moment, wondering what he could be thinking about. Rhett was probably the same as you, a seemingly different person with so many more life experiences. An air of mystery was around him, why was he still in Wabang?
Wasn't his dream to leave?
Without a second thought, you straightened, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beth. She was still laughing, distracted by some guy behind you, her attention far from you. Turning back to Rhett you conclude that you didn't need any more liquid courage to walk over to him, not when the three or four shots you had earlier had already spread warmth starting in your chest and traveling down your limbs, tickling your fingertips.
You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, swallowing down a mixture of nerves and curiosity. You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to walk over.
But then, why did it feel like the only thing you could do?
Resting your stick on the table, you tug at the hem of your shirt down to the waistband of your jeans, desperate to look somewhat put together. The motion feels useless, you’re sure you stink with sweat and your mouth tastes sour with alcohol. You would do anything for a stick of gum right about now.
You unstick your feet from the floor, the slick wood creaking under your shoes with every unsure step and gravity truly feels like it is working against you. The space between seems to stretch impossibly long and you step on unsteady legs.
Your shaking hands latch onto the hem of your shirt once again, as if it would anchor you to the earth. His side profile catches your eye, a strong nose sloping into delicate lips and into a stubbled jaw.
By the time you're close enough, your feet feel like you're sloshing through mud. You’re almost there, and yet every step feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Two voices scream at you.
Stop. Let him go. You don’t know if you can keep promises to him, you can barely keep promises to yourself.
Your head pounds and you can feel yourself wince in pain.
Faster. Move your legs faster. You have to let him know you are here.
But then, as if out of air, a figure materializes next to him. A dark-haired woman, laughing softly, leaning into his space.
Maria.
Stopping dead in your tracks you watch as he turns his attention to her. You suck a sharp breath through your nose, the dreamy feeling gone as you are smacked in the face with reality. It feels like a car crash. You can’t look away despite how awful the scene is.
Why was she here? Your mind races, panic wrapping its fingers around your throat. Why is she talking to him?
Remembering the night at the rodeo, the cheers for Rhett were loud, but Maria’s was the loudest. You can see it clear now, despite your drunken state. Her eyes were already on him in a way that made you feel invisible.
Oh.
Brushing away hair from your face, pushing back the swell of emotion that threatened to spill over. You can't do this right now. You can't be here. So you act like you were going to get a drink all along.
A seat at the furthest end of the bar beckons you, and running your fingers on the acrylic top once you sit down oddly grounds you. A fresh coldness in the otherwise humid room. One of the bartenders promptly shows up, fishing in the lower refrigerator for a beer. The cap popping off hisses with release, the metal cap glinting in the neon, tumbling to the floor. You watch it fall, and if you focus hard enough you swear you can hear the clink it makes as it falls to the floor.
Faintly, you can hear their conversation. About his last ride, about Trevor, you assume Tillerson, you saw him and his light haired brothers earlier. It wasn't a full conversation, just bits and pieces you picked out. They’re talking. And you’re here alone at the end of the bar.
Once that first sip from the glass bottle hits the back of your throat, your stomach churns. Squeezing your eyes shut you focus on your shaky breathing.
In… Nose. Out… Mouth.
You repeat it like a mantra but the tightening in your chest isn't going away. Dizziness accompanies it, and you feel scared. You hate throwing up. In the back of your mind a voice reminds you, the bathroom is too far away. You won't make it.
Pushing back from the bar, you practically fall out of your seat. You don't even think, just move on pure instinct. Dodging tables and people, the situation feels unreal as you wade through the muggy air. Through the tiny rectangular window of the back door, you can see the dark night sky and it offers you comfort knowing you are almost there.
The wood door almost smacks you in the face and you stumble back. A tall woman with long blonde hair pushes past you, her belt buckle jingling as she continues behind you. Normally, you would question her hurry, why she was so quick to get inside. You could care less.
Bursting through the front door of the bar, the cold midnight air smacks you in the face like a bucket of ice water. It’s a shockingly jarring contrast from the all over flush you were fighting against. Although your eyes are blurry with tears, you can tell there are people out here talking.
In… Nose. Out… Mouth.
A clammy hand quickly comes to your eyes, pressing in and rubbing to rid them of the wetness threatening to spill over.
Blinking rapidly to rid them of stars, your mouth opens in a silent gasp as you see Trevor and Perry standing nose to nose, Trevor pushing Perry and almost sending him to the ground. The shock rids you of feeling sick, breath stuttering in your chest as you stand there like a deer in the headlights.
“How ‘bout you go inside and find Luke-”
A firm weight violently shoves your left shoulder and almost sends you tumbling, your arms flying out in front of you to keep your face far from the ground. Pain, not even alcohol could dull blossoms in your arm and upper back as you miraculously stay upright.
“Find Luke? Fuck you, man.”
Eyes darting up again you find Rhett pushing Trevor away from Perry, holding him back from hitting his brother again. They are muttering to one another, fighting against each other's weight. Blinking, you see them on the ground, boots sliding in the gravel. Punches land and you can hear the sickening thuds of skin on skin. The metal building pricks your back with ice as you find yourself backed up against it, not remembering even picking up your feet.
Rhett’s long hair gets in his face, chunks of it sticking to his forehead with sweat. With a final punch it sends Trevor to the ground and you stare shamelessly, stunned at his crumpled form and bleeding face caked in dust.
Looking away into the night, you press your lips into a thin line, the sick feeling coming back. Rhett must've accidentally pushed you when he came out, remembering the throbbing pain in your shoulder.
The air was still thick with adrenaline but it isn't until you hear the shuffling of feet and Rhett’s ragged breaths that you look back over to the scene. His body is tense and his fists are clenched at his sides, wound tight like a coil waiting to snap. Your chin dips down as he turns to Perry, and for a moment you think he’s going to grab his brother and leave. But instead his gaze finds yours, sharp and searching. Despite blurry vision you notice his eyes look over your shoulder.
Turning your head you spot Maria just outside the closed door and your heart pounds with uncertainty. Another step from Rhett has you whipping your face back to him. He was a foot or so closer and you suck your lower lip into your mouth, eyes flicking from Trevor’s bloodied form then back to him.
“Y’alright?” His voice is quiet but gruff, shifting on his feet as he looks back at Maria, a hand coming up to push back his sweaty hair. He seemed hesitant to approach you, held back by his brother and the woman behind you. Despite a moment of hesitation -shoulder hurt, stomach sick, absolutely freezing cold- you nod, noticing how your teeth are chattering. Had they always been chattering?
“Don't have to stay out ‘ere-” There’s tension in his voice, as if he’s toeing around an unspoken boundary and is afraid he’ll get caught, “I can walk you inside if you need.” Your mind goes blank, a faint humming between your ears. Rhett doesn't move closer as he awaits your answer, probably wishing you’d just say something.
Perry stands in the distance, swaying as if a small breeze was pushing him around. He was looking at you but not really looking. It scared you.
Finally, you nod again dumbly, still unsure if this is exactly what you want even as he hesitantly approaches you and places a large, warm hand on your upper back. He smells of iron, beer, and sweat but it grounded you, urging you back to your senses. A gentle pressure between your shoulder blades encourages you to turn and face Maria. Her expression is unreadable, completely absent of emotion. The two of you bypass her, the music still loud and thudding inside as if the whole ordeal outside was just a weird mirage.
It takes you a moment to realize he is taking you to Beth, somehow already finding her through the crowd of people.
“Wait!” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears, even startling Rhett as he stuttered to a stop, looking at you with furrowed brows.
“You wanna go back outsi-” He starts, hand already slipping from your back to grab at your elbow to haul you out the door, presumably thinking that you were going to throw up.
“No!” You cringe as your tone sounds shrill, half-heartedly tugging against his grip. Rhett immediately drops your elbow and stares. Suddenly, you are once again reminded how big he is, expansive shoulders and long powerful legs. Butterflies kick up in your stomach as you are desperate to take in all of him.
With a quick scan you find that Maria is nowhere near the two of you, back with her friends already. The sight reassures you, but you can feel the weight of his eyes still on you.
His hand reaches out and encloses on your bicep, steadying you- were you swaying that whole time? Embarrassment drops in your gut, your bottom lip trembling and your eyes looking at his boots.
“I’m sorry.” You have no idea what you are apologizing for.
Tonight when you shouted at him? Leaving him after the rodeo on Sunday? That cold night six years ago?
A reluctant chuckle leaves his lips, a surprising noise that has you looking up at him with curiosity, “Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice low. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for.”
It’s such a confusing answer. So confusing you can feel your brain mentally filing it away to unpack later because you’ve already got words spilling from your mouth.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You admit in a small voice, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to deal with... all of this.” Your dad, Rhett, the bloody man outside… there were too many things you could be referencing. But Rhett just nods, letting a small sigh through his nose and you can feel it across your cheeks.
“Gimmie your keys, do you have ‘em?” He asks and you nod, fishing around your front pockets and plopping them in his open palm. You watch as his calloused fingers curl around them, “Where’s your friend?”
Looking around him it takes no time to spot her, sitting in a booth with that guy from earlier, her phone pulled out as she shows him something, “There-” you point to her and his gaze follows your finger, “in that booth with the guy in the green.”
Rhett hums and his hand resumes its place between your shoulder blades, pressing you forward.
Beth’s eyes light up as soon as you near but drop as she sees Rhett close behind.
“Something wrong?” Beth cocks her head and looks between the two of you, starting to get up.
“Y’ sober?” Rhett asks and she scoffs, crossing her arms and tipping her chin up to look at him, “If you're asking if I can drive, yes I can.” She responds, her eyes narrowing the tiniest bit. You hate people talking about you like you weren't there, but your lips were glued shut.
“Hey- not tryin’ to start trouble. Just makin’ sure she gets home safe.” Rhett puts his hands up in surrender and you can hear your keys jingle together as they are pinched between his forefinger and thumb. Beth bites her lower lip and grabs the keys from him and in the same breath grabs your hand and pulls you towards her.
You stumble like a ragdoll, whining as your hurt shoulder twinges. Turning, you watch Rhett bite the inside of his cheek and tip his head towards you before turning around and leaving.
It was an anticlimactic end to the night, Beth muttering in your ear how the two of you should just leave. Nodding, you hold on to her arm as you gather your things. At her car, you look over at your own.
“Shit, what should I do? I dont have clothes to change into.”
“Call in, stay at my place until you're feelin’ better.” Beth shugs and hops in her car.
You do the same and rest your head against the window as she drives. It vibrates your skull and shuts out the voices talking over themselves.
See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!
Because I keep seeing others post, I really wanna talk about seeing Lewis and Atta Boy in Chicago <3 Also so I can look back and reread and relive how exciting it was lol
First of all, I wanna explain how DEDICATED I was to see this man. I live in a tiny town in Idaho where the local airport takes two flights per day and both of them are directly to and from SLC. So I drove 3 1/2 hours to the biggest airport in Idaho. Then, I hopped on a 1 1/2 hour flight to Seattle where I had a two hour layover then on a 4 1/2 hour flight to Chicago.
I got a bloody nose on the plane to Chicago (then on the way back I got 2 more) :) So much fun.
We waited in a super short line outside for a while and I was hyper analyzing every person who walked past us in hopes it would be a member. The one time I had my head turned a woman walked past me and I was just watching her leave when she turned her head and it was EDEN! I could have died right then, she was gorgeous, seriously the prettiest woman I have seen.
About 10-15 minutes later I saw her walking towards the line (very preoccupied, she was listening to a voice note on her phone) and finally past all the waiting people and into the venue. (Side note, she had her vape in hand and was taking a hit of it as she walked past me-when I texted my friend she was saying how lucky I was to stand in Eden's vape cloud and it made me lol so hard).
When they finally let us into the venue me and my guy beelined it to the stage. I swear some higher power was on our side that day because we got the best spot right to where the drum set was in perfect view.
Me Like Bees was great, I was dancing around to their music and I have plans to add them to my Spotify playlist, their energy was crazy!
The lights went on again as they were taking the MLB stuff down and putting the AB stuff up, Freddy and Dashel were up there helping when this mysterious man brushed up against my guy and walked up the steps to the stage. My guy whispered in my ear, "I think that's Lewis." And all I could do was nod silently.
It felt like I touched a live wire or something, my whole body was buzzing like crazy as we watched him set up his drum set. I think in another life that man was an electrician or something because he was decked out in all Carhart lmao.
Eden sung beautifully, nothing would have ever prepared me for how good she sounded. Like imagine the recorded version but just 1 Million times better. I sung my heart out on Crab Park (best song imo) and teared up when she sang Madly.
I'm going to skip some of these next few parts because it was literally just me watching Lewis go around to the people waiting to talk to him and me admiring how incredibly handsome this guy is (no picture does him justice).
Lewis shook me and my guy's hand and we all introduced each other, all of a sudden my worry went away and talking to Lewis felt like talking to a friend. I told him how my mom loves him in Lessons in Chemistry (which I explained is crazy because she has two comfort shows she likes and she hates new things but seriously is in love with LinC and begs to watch it with me whenever I visit). Lewis thought that was absolutely hilarious and was happy my mom likes it so much.
I then told him that I adore The Starling Girl because his performance was so real and raw and there was absolutely no fluff. I then said something super cheesy like, "Your performance was phenomenal." Lewis told me that he was grateful I loved it so much because he loved working on it. So that made me smile and blush like crazy.
He asked where we were from and I told him about the crazy journey we endured and he seemed legit stunned that someone would travel that far to see him and his band.
We then took a few pics and I was too dumb to remember to give him something to sign so I pulled out a $5 bill and he signed the backside of it. I then asked if I could hug him and he laughed, saying yes if I don't mind that he's all sweaty. Best hug of my life btw.
We then said our farewells and I then proceeded to get so freaked out we left the venue entirely. Looking back now I would have stayed longer and got pics with Eden and some merch so I actually feel really upset about that. And in January of 2023 I got a bull skull tattoo mimicking Rhett's on my calf that I was dying to show Lewis but I forgot. But I am looking forward to the next time I get to see him!!!
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