#professional bull riders | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leclerc-hs · 1 month ago

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save a bull! - cl16

pairing: bull rider!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which a city girl meets a cowboy OR charles finds himself infatuated with the visiting city girl warnings: language, NOT PROOFREAD, no smut (maybe in part 2 if y'all want smut), bad writing (sorry lol) word count: ~4.4k author's note: HI. did you miss me? i sure as FUCK missed y'all. so I started writing this MONTHS ago but then took a very long break from this website and writing. it might be very shitty so i apologize for that. it was originally going to be just 1 part but I found myself writing so much that I think 2 parts will be better in the end. PLEASE REACH OUT TO ME WITH ANY FEEDBACK. sorry if this sucks. love you all.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Will you please just consider it!” Abigail pleads beside you on the sidewalk, weaving through the bustling crowd with an effortless grace. The sun casts dappled shadows on the pavement, and the scent of street food mingles with the crisp urban air.

The city feels particularly relentless as you trudge along the crowded sidewalk, your third cup of coffee from the corner deli clutched in one hand, its steam mingling with the bustling street air. Your shoulders droop under the weight of fatigue, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the city around you. Each step towards your office tower feels heavier, as though the concrete beneath your feet has turned to lead.

The tall buildings loom overhead, their steel and glass facades glinting under the midday sun, but their gleam only seems to amplify the oppressive weight of your exhaustion. The vibrant hum of the city—a symphony of honking taxis, chattering pedestrians, and distant sirens—becomes a monotonous drone.

Your dress, once crisp and sharp, now feels more like a burden, its fabric slightly rumpled from a day spent at your desk.

“I can’t take that much time off of work,” You say, your voice tinged with frustration but softened by a hint of regret. You’re caught in that all-too-familiar tug of war between professional obligations and personal desires. You finally get the chance to turn your head to look at Abigail as you reach a crosswalk, blinking not to cross. You see the disappointment flicker in your friend’s eyes.

“I get it,” Abigail says, her voice steady and tinged with understanding, “I know how demanding your job is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t work from home. Or take personal time. I know you have that option.”

You chuckle softly, admiring her persistence to some degree. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“When is the last time you even took a personal day.”

The answer was never. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Will you stop begging me every second of every day if I say yes?” You ask, half in jest but with a trace of genuine curiosity.

“Obviously,” she replies, her smile widening as she sees the shift in your stance.

The pedestrian light turns green, and as you start to cross the street, you take a deep breath, blinking to steady your thoughts. “Fine.”

Abigail’s face lights up with a victorious grin, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Nestled amidst rolling green hills and expansive grasslands, Abigail’s small family farm is a picturesque retreat. The scene unfolds like a charming pastoral painting, with vibrant hues of green and wheat fields stretching out as far as the eye can see, interspersed with splashes of color from blooming wildflowers.

At the heart of the farm stands a quaint, cozy house, its charm amplified by a wraparound porch adorned with potted flowers. The house itself is a delightful mix of rustic and charming, with its whitewashed clapboard siding, and a steeply pitched roof.

Adjacent to the house, a well-tended vegetable garden thrives, it’s neat rows of tomatoes, lettuce, and peppers bordered by a low wooden fence. A couple of well-worn garden tools lean against a small shed nearby, evidence of the daily care given.

Further out, a classic red barn structure where a white trimmed roof sits atop. The sounds of clucking hens and the occasional bray of donkey create a lively atmosphere. Near the barn, sits a small paddock with a couple of playful horses, their sleek coats gleaming in the sunlight.

The fresh air of the farm is almost a sensory overload compared to the city’s fumes. Unlike the city’s dense cocktail of exhaust fumes, asphalt, and various street food vendors, the farm air is pure.

As you sit at the kitchen table, the warmth of the farmhouse envelops you. The rustic charm of the kitchen, with its large wooden table and mismatched chairs, is filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation and shared laughter.

Abigail stands at the center of the room, animatedly catches her family up on the latest happenings in her city life. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, her gestures lively and expressive. The tales of the city hustle almost seem foreign in this serene setting.

Danny and Luke, her two older brothers, sit across from you at the table. Danny, with his sandy blond hair and easy-going demeanor, leans back in his chair, his face lit up with a relaxed smile. He listens attentively, occasionally interjecting with teasing remarks or playful banter. His presence is warm and reassuring. His wife, Gianna, sits beside him with a small baby boy on her lap.

Luke, on the other hand, exudes a quiet strength. His dark hair is neatly tousled, and his gaze is both thoughtful and amused. His demeanor calm yet engaged.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the girl who makes our Abigail so happy in the city,” Abigail’s mother continues, her voice carrying a note of heartfelt sincerity. “She’s always spoken so highly of you.”

You feel a flush of warmth at the compliment, a mix of gratitude and slight nervousness at the attention all on you.

“Thank you so much for having me,” You smile softly. “I don’t know what I would do without Abigail in my life.”

With a playful glint in Danny’s eye, he chimes in, “I do.”

The room erupts in a chorus of laughter, the sound ringing out with genuine warmth and affection.

You decided right there you may just like it here a lot more than you thought.

The silk dress that adorned your body was utterly unsuitable for the rugged rodeo environment, but you didn’t really care. The delicate fabric, with its soft sheen and flowing lines, clashed vividly with the dusty, rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the rodeo.

As you moved through the arena, the contrast became more pronounced. The silk, while beautiful, struggled against the elements—dust from the arena settling onto the fabric, and the occasional splash of beer threatening to leave their mark. The sight of your delicate dress among the crowd of rugged cowboys and cowgirls in their jeans, boots, and plaid shirts drew curious glances.

But you didn’t care. You liked your clothes, the luxurious feel of the silk against your skin, the way it draped with effortless grace. The expensive fabric was a statement of your personal taste, and you embraced it fully, regardless of the setting.

“You could’ve borrowed some jeans, you know?” Abigail chirps beside you, her jeans mostly ripped and worn matched well with her cowboy boots.

You shrug your shoulders in a noncommittal way. “I’m going to head to the bathroom before this starts. Grab me a drink?”

“Duh. See you at the seats?” Abigail laughs before sauntering off towards a beer vendor.

You stand still for a moment, observing Abigail and her brothers joking around as they stroll across the lively rodeo grounds. You can’t help but smile at their playful banter, you didn’t have growing up.

As you watch, lost in the charm of the moment, a rough shoulder unexpectedly collides with yours. The sudden contact jolts you out of your reverie, and you turn to see a burly cowboy in worn jeans and a dusty plaid shirt.

You swore he was one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life until he opened his big fat mouth.

“You lost?” He laughs, his green eyes bright and mischievous as he adjusts the hat on his head.

“Excuse me?” You reply, a mix of confusion and irritation threading through your voice.

“The city is a long way from here,” He drawls, the smirk on his lips widening with a hint of amusement.

The combination of his cheeky grin , the twinkle in his eye, and the dismissive tone ignites a flicker of anger within you. It feels like a mix of condescension and teasing that sends a sharp heat coursing through your veins. You roll your eyes, unable to hide your annoyance.

“Thanks for the information, jackass,” You snap, shoving past him with a forceful nudge. You march away with purpose, the silk of your dress swishing around your legs with each determined step.

Unbeknownst to you, as you walk away, he can’t help but turn his head to watch the sway of your hips in the thin, delicate fabric. His gaze lingers for a moment longer than necessary, a mixture of surprise and lingering admiration in his eyes as he takes in your retreating figure.

A hand lands firmly on his shoulder, and a voice calls out, “C’mon Charles, you need to get changed.” The words cut through his moment of distraction.

With a slight jolt, he snaps back to reality and glances over, meeting the eyes of his friend who is already gesturing towards the changing area. Reluctantly, he shifts his focus and starts to follow, his gaze now shifting into a more focused, practical demeanor.

Finally settled into your seat, far too close to the metal fence for your liking, and smothered between Abigail and Luke, you feel yourself relax as Luke places a tall boy can of beer in your hand, the wet condensation soaking your hand.

“Hope you can handle a beer,” Luke states, a smile on his lips. “It’s all they had left.”

You bring the can of beer to your lips slowly, savoring the crisp, cool sensation as you take a smooth sip. With a playful glint in your eye, you send a wink in Luke’s direction. “I promise I can handle a beer,” you say with a teasing smile.

Luke’s eyes crinkle at the corners with amusement, and he lets out a hearty chuckle. He lifts his own beer in a casual salute, the gesture accompanied by a nod of approval. As he takes a sip, the cool amber liquid reflecting the warm light of the evening, he meets your gaze with a grin that mirrors your playful confidence.

“So how does this work?” You ask, turning your full attention to Luke while Abigail and Danny are engrossed in their own conversation on the other side of you.

Luke raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “How does what work?”

You gesture broadly with your hands, waving them in animated circles as you take in the bustling rodeo arena before you. “This,” you say, trying to encompass the entire scene with your sweeping motions.

As if gaining a sense of clarity, the corners of Luke’s lips tug upward. “Why don’t you just watch and find out? It’s about to start.”

You turn your head back to the dirt ring, feeling the adrenaline of the moment as you witness a big brown bull in the chute. Its snorts are visible through the gaps in the metal fences, each exhalation a cloud of steam in the crisp air.

A handsome cowboy, his broad shoulders accentuated by a fitted vest, mounts the bull with practiced ease. He glances up with a confident, almost cocky grin that makes your heart race even faster. Your gaze follows every move he makes, captivated by the way he balances on the bull’s massive back as the gate swings open.

The bull bursts into action, hooves flying and muscles rippling as it twists and bucks in an attempt to throw the rider off. The scene is a whirlwind of motion and raw power—an exhilarating display of skill and bravery. It’s almost surreal, the sheer intensity of the bull’s movements and the cowboy’s unflinching composure.

As the bull spins in tight circle, you glance over to the timer mounted on the fence. The seconds tick away, each moment bringing the eight-second mark closer. When the buzzer finally sounds, signaling the end of the ride, the cowboy springs off the bull with an effortless grace. He tosses a hand in the air, his expression nonchalant as if the wild ride was nothing more than a casual stroll.

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, their excitement palpable as they all stand up with shouts.

You turn your head back towards Luke, one of the biggest smiles on your face as you meet his eyes in pure astonishment.

“How about it?” Luke chimes in, taking yet another chug of his beer.

“This is insane!” You take another sip as well.

Charles lived for bull riding. It was more than just a passion—it was his livelihood. The cowboy lifestyle, with its raw, untamed essence, had shaped almost every aspect of his existence.

To him, the bull was not just an animal but a formidable partner in a high-stakes dance of power and control. Two things Charles always loved to have. Every successful ride was a testament to his skill and courage, a dance with danger that left him both exhilarated and humbled. Like this ride. Right now.

He throws his hand in the air, the rush of pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. The feel of the dirt beneath his boots, the deafening roar of the crowd, and an impressive score of 91, was enough to send him shouting in joy. He let his eyes wander the crowd around him, taking it all in like he always loves to do. He livesfor the attention.

So, when he notices a familiar woman seated right before the metal fence, paying little to no attention to the dirt ring, he can’t help but feel just a little annoyed.

He also can’t help but feel more annoyed when he takes notice of that silk fabric again, immediately remembering when he bumped into your frame mere moments ago. Your cherry lips and silky-smooth hair flash into his mind. For a second, he almost forgets the fact that he’s standing in the middle of a dirt ring.

He can’t quite shake the memory of your demeanor and the way you seemed detached from the rodeo’s thrilling chaos. The way you could care less about who he was. It’s a curious juxtaposition against the fervor of the crowd and the adrenaline that still courses through him.

One thing about Charles was that he wanted attention, yes. But right now, he only wanted yours. With that unshakable desire in mind, he strides confidently toward where you’re seated. The metal fences between you both form a barrier, but that doesn’t deter him.

As he approaches, the crowd senses a shift in the energy and falls into an anticipatory hush. Their collective gaze shifts to you and Charles, creating a palpable focus on the interaction.

Charles, his presence commanding and confident, slips his hat through the gap in the metal fence, offering it to you with a smirk. The hat, wide brimmed and well worn, represents a piece of his world.

“To help you fit in better.” His tone a mix of challenge and amusement.

Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and finally saunters off, his gait relaxed yet purposeful.

“What just happened?” Abigail smacks your arm, the one not jolding the hat, as you walk side by side. Her brothers loom behind you, their presence adding to the charged atmosphere of the moment. “Why did Charles fucking Leclerc just give you, his hat?”

You glance at the hat, a bemused expression on your face. “That guy is a total dick is what just happened.”

Abigail’s eyes widen, her excitement barely contained. “What do you mean!” She practically shouts, her voice a mix of disbelief and thrill. “He’s like famous here. Every girl probably hates you right now.”

“Why?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.

“Are you blind?” Abigail’s voice now full sheer joy. “The dude is practically sex on fucking legs. And he’s one of the best bull riders around!”

You look back at the hat again, it suddenly feels heavier in the grasp of your fingertips. “Charles Leclerc is a big deal around here. And he just gave you, his hat. That’s a huge deal.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the slight flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Well, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a jackass earlier. But I guess it’s good to know he’s a big deal around here.”

Abigail bursts into laughter. “You really are something else.”

The narrow aisles of the tiny market, with their cramped and cluttered shelves, had you aimlessly strolling in circles. The items on your list—given to you by Abigail’s mom—seemed to elude your every turn. The overhead lights cast a harsh glare on the disorganized assortment of product, making it difficult to find what you needed. You stood there, your eyes narrowing in annoyance, at the crumpled list clutched in your hand.

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

The sound of the deep, velvety voice was enough to draw your attention away from the list. You turned to see Charles standing not even a few feet away, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against a shelf. His eyes, green as ever, created a swirl of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

Although you were known for your stubbornness, often digging your heels in even when it wasn’t your best interest, you had to admit you were out of your depth in the tiny market. There were no signs. No directory.

“Depends,” you reply, the hint of a playful challenge in your voice. Charles raises his eyebrows, a silent prompt for you to elaborate further.

“If you call me city girl even once,” you continue, your tone firm but light-hearted, “I’ll knock you right out.”

The challenge is met with a shit-eating grin, so wide on Charles’s face that it seems almost infectious. His cheeks stretch into an exuberant smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. And it takes him one step, and one stretch of his arm, to snag that grocery list right out of your dainty fingertips.

“You’re cute when you’re real mad, y’know?” He drawls, placing the groceries into the bed of the pick-up truck you borrowed from Abigail’s family.

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re right.” He says, placing the final bag into the truck and leaning against the frame of it with an arm propped up. “You’re just cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Charles doesn’t miss the subtle flush the tints the apples of your cheeks with a delicate shade of red. The reaction stirs a flutter in his chest, almost like an addiction that he never wants to stop.

You’re undeniably cute, with an effortlessly enchanting beauty that makes it difficult to look away. A magnetic pull that Charles just can’t shake. It’s almost as if he’s addicted to getting a reaction out of you.

It’s been days of settling into the rhythm of farm life—enjoying family dinners filmed with hearty laughter and home-cooked meals, gathering around late-night fires that crackle and warm against the cool night air, and rolling up your sleeves to help with daily chores.

Even had a few more run-in's with the famous bull riding man himself. He was sweet, but you couldn't help but feel at complete unease around him. Not in a bad way, but in a my heart won't stop pounding against my rib cage kind of way.

Like when he covered you in his flannel at the latest bonfire, taming the rising goosebumps along your body.

"I don't need this, y'know?"

"Sweetheart, you're cold. Just wear the damn thing."

Or when you bumped into him at one of the farmer's markets and it took no hesitation for him to grab all of your purchases out from under your arm.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doin?"

"Stealing my stuff"

His laugh shot butterflies right into your stomach. "You're something else, sweetheart."

You make a point to be as involved as possible, driven by the genuine desire to contribute and make a sense of responsibility.

“Should we hit up Rusty Spur’s tonight?” Abigail asks from beside you, her voice light and relaxed as she stands wrapped in a fluffy robe, freshly showered. She’s casually brushing her long, damp hair, the strands falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

“What’s Rusty Spur’s” you ask, leaning over the bathroom sink for a closer look as you apply your last coat of mascara, adding the finishing touch to your makeup.

“The bar,” she replies nonchalantly, her tone suggesting it’s a place she frequents often. “I think we need a night out.”

You glance at her through the mirror, a smile spreading across your face at the prospect of a night out.

“Yes.”

Rusty Spur’s was the kind of country bar that instantly feels like home, even if you’ve never been there before.

As you step inside, the scent of aged wood, spilled beer, and a hint of smoky warmth greets you. The place is packed.

The flimsy spaghetti straps of your short white dress dig into the skin of your shoulders, their delicate fabric offering little support. Despite its ethereal look, the dress feels unexpectedly snug against your skin. The soft white fabric sways with each step you take as you slip your body in between the crowds of people.

Abigail leads you to a cozy corner of the bar. Almost instantly, a bartender approaches, his familiarity with Abigail evident in the easy smile and warm greeting he offers.

You can’t help but notice just how easy on the eyes he is. He’s dressed, like almost every guy in this bar, in snug jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. His casual yet confident demeanor, coupled with the slight scruff on his beard and his easygoing smile, makes him stand out in the dimly lit bar.

Within the span of five minutes, a chilled, neck-bottled beer is placed gently into your hand. Taking in the view of the crowd, which is large but not overwhelmingly so, you scan the faces around you. As your gaze moves across the room, no one stands out as particularly familiar—until your eyes land on a table not too far away.

There, seated with a group of friends, is Charles. His presence is unmistakable. Even from a distance, he exudes a charismatic confidence, the kind that draws attention without even trying. He’s relaxed in his posture, laughing and engaging with his companions, the flannel from earlier now swapped for a casual shirt.

“Wanna dance?” Abigail chimes in your ear, her beer already half gone in the span of a minute.

It was almost as if Charles could feel your presence without even seeing you. The dim light of the bar cast flickering shadows. He leaned back against the worn leather of his chair, his senses heightened.

You found yourself completely immersed in the music, your body moving almost involuntary as your shoes glide smoothly across the weathered wooden floor. You’re not exactly sure when it happened, but your body eventually became pressed up against a random guy you’ve only just met on the dance floor. His presence both surprising and pleasant. He’s cute—definitely cute. His hands are gentle on your waist, guiding you through the steps with a natural rhythm.

He twirls you effortlessly around, guiding your movement with a deft touch that brings a burst of joy. As you complete the spin, you find yourself facing him once more, his eyes twinkling down at you.

With a playful flourish, he slips his cowboy hat onto your head. You can feel the subtle press of the brim against your forehead, much too big for your head. You tilt your head back and laugh, the sound a melodic blend of joy and unrestrained happiness woven into the music.

In this embrace, everything seems to align perfectly—the rhythm of the music, the warmth of the body, and the whimsical charm of the cowboy hat resting lightly atop your head.

“Do you want t-” The words began to leave the man’s lips, but they were abruptly cut off as a firm muscled arm shoved him away from your embrace. The unexpected force sent him stumbling back, surprise flashing across his face and yours.

The man recovered his footing, confusion turning into indignation as he glared at the one who interrupted. Charles. Meanwhile, you stood your ground, heart racing, caught between the thrill of the moment and unexpected clash.

If looks could kill.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

Large fingers reach for the brim of the hat atop your head, snatching it right off before Charles shoves it back into the man’s chest. “Don’t ever put a hat on her head again.”

His voice was rough and terse, cutting through the ambient noise like a blade. “Let’s go,” He says, not giving the man or you a chance to react. In an instant, his fingers snake around your wrist, pulling you away from the dance floor and into the shadows of a secluded table ticked into the corner of the bar.

The abrupt shift caught you off guard, and your heart raced as he led you through the sea of bodies. The air between you was thick with unspoken words as he tucks you between him and the edge of the table. His grip on your wrist loosens, but his proximity is too close.

“What the hell was that?” Your senses heightened as your eyes locked onto his. The usual light green of his irises, often warm and inviting, was now obscured by a much darker hue, swirling with intensity and something primal.

His gaze was pointed, sharp, and unyielding. You sensed a storm brewing behind those darkened eyes, and the air around you crackled with anticipation.

“He put his hat on you, sweetheart.” You scoff almost instantly, bubbling anger simmers in your chest as you let out a soft laugh over the situation.

“Really?” You throw your head back for a mere second as the laugh pushes past your throat. “You shoved him over a hat?”

His eyes remain narrowed, the amusement that might have danced there moments ago, no longer present. “Do you even know what that means?” He presses, his voice low and intense as he leans into your ear, the weight of his words hanging between you.

“What a hat means?” Confusion flickers across your features. The question so out of place, and yet the gravity of his tone suggests otherwise.

Before you can grasp the implications, you felt his fingers sneak their way to you, warmth and firmness splayed along your waist. The contact sent a jolt of awareness through you, igniting the tension the crackled in the air. It was a possessive gesture.

His gaze never wavers, and the connection between you deepens.

“You wear that hat; you ride that cowboy.”

For a moment, you freeze.

“And in no fucking world, would I let you wear anyone’s but mine.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fic

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princesssmars · 7 months ago

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sweet✰honey✰buckin

a rodeo!abby x reader. | p.ii

its a hot spring in the south and rodeo season is here. your hunt for a new fling leads you to an up-and-coming hotshot bull rider with an aversion to groupies. maybe you can change her mind.

wc : 2.509

contains : fxf relationship. barely attempted country slang. fluff. smut. oral and penetrative sex (r!receiving). nicknames (baby, darlin', a single bunny).

a/n : yeah guess who just listened to cowboy carter. idk why i posted about this before writing a single word but i didn't procrastinate this time yall clap it up and enjoy.

if you think about it, this was really all dolly partons' fault.

you could still picture the first time you saw her, the grainy recording on your grandmother's television, the gentle melodies from the blonde bombshell wrapping around you like a warm hug. you'd only been exposed to the south for a few weeks, and you already knew who you wanted your role model to be.

and the buckle bunny stuff also wasn't your fault! you were gorgeous, as people so loved to remind you at every twist and turn. and maybe you used your looks to your advantage sometimes. the first time was when you batted your eyelashes to make a boy do your project a day before it was due in junior year. he was... good-looking, you supposed. smart enough to be on the chess team, so he would do.

so you went to a little party with your friends that night. a spacious house, nice music, and good enough booze. everything was normal until you saw her. she was lean and mysterious, and under the lid of her black ridge top hat you could see her eyes tracking your body as you danced

so yes, her eating you in the back seat of her truck until you cried, holding down your hips when you tried to move changed your brain chemistry just a bit.

now a few years later, you're a little taller, a little smarter, and have collected a handful of studs for your belt. sure you've collected a...not so savory reputation in some of the local bars, but it was nothing a smile and a little flirting couldn't help. and its only going to get better; as the air warms and the trees bloom pussy spirit starts buzzing, and you know rodeo season is upon you again.

it was a hot night at the cow belle and the people even hotter as you scoped the scene from the rim of your glass. you and your friends were perched at the bar, daisy dukes heightened and crop tops tied under your busts.

"i heard red devil rosie'd be here tonight," savannah whispers to your group from beside you, her tall dark legs relaxed with her arm resting on the wood behind you. she always had a bit of a thing for redheads, and she'd had her eyes on rosie ever since it got around that she'd broken up with her fiancee.

"jesus, sav, the poor girl just got heartbroken, now you already wanna jump her bones?" charlize laughs, taking a hard swig of the beer in her hand. standing at a solid five feet and four inches tall the little kentuckian was a handful, always the first in line to ride a mechanical bull or jump in the front of a line dance.

"whats that saying men always use? as soon as you lose one hop on a 'nother?"

"you are deplorable."

as the girls banter back and forth your eyes focus on the rising commotion at the front of the bar. with a slight rise on your toes, making sure not to scuff your boots, and you can't help the growing smile on your face when you spot that blonde hair pushed down by her signature brown stetson.

abigail anderson, the rodeo's angel. she'd only been in the circuit for under two years and sponsors were lining up and begging for her to go pro. it was always easy to spot her, frequently trailed by her already professional friends manny alvarez and owen moore, along with a handful of groupies begging her to look their way.

luckily for you, manny had flirted with you a few weeks back and remained friendly after you turned him down, and he was heading straight towards you while his friends headed to a booth.

"oh god, hide your wives and girlfriends, the buckle brood is here!" he laughs, thanking the bartender for his beer and taking a swig.

"whatever manny, you're just upset our darling here didn't give you a chance." savannah winks.

"i think god was doing me a favor. y'know dixie's been trying to call you for about a week? the poor girls even thought about sending a bouquet. dixie. a bouquet."

"i made it clear before we slept together it would be a one-time thing. 's not my fault she wants more." you sigh.

that just makes the man laugh harder. he chats it up with charlize about how the rankings are looking when he notices how your gaze keeps wandering off, following your eye straight to-

"no."

"hm? i didnt say anything!"

"you said it with your eyes. and im gonna tell you with my mouth that you don't stand a chance. abby hates groupies." he shakes his head.

"abby, huh? i like it." manny grows exasperated as his words go in one ear and out the other. "'n and im technically not a groupie. never seen the woman in my life before now."

"well, look don't touch. or maybe don't look at all, before you put a spell on her or somethin."

you pout, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into a hug. you see abby look your way in the corner of your eye and make sure to stretch your torso just a tiny bit until you're able to feel the bottom of your shirt ride up just that much more. when you see her eyes trail down your waist you hide a smile into the side of your arm.

you let the man go with a sweet goodbye, watching as he grabs two more beers and heads over to the booth and twisting your head before you can catch the blondes gaze.

its only a few minutes later when manny comes back with wide eyes and invites you over to sit with them.

sitting across from her, you can see why people are so attracted to her. she’s big, her muscles bulging out from the sleeves in her plaid shirt. despite her size she doesn’t try to take up more space then needed; confident but not cocky.

she clearly notices your glances, and maybe even the smile on your face when one of her past flings with a girl is brought up in conversation.

“so, you’ve had girlfriends before?” you ask, stirring your cocktail with the little colorful umbrella that came with it.

“no no, don’t answer that, you’ll regret it.” owen butts in, meeting your glare. you’d never talked before, but you were pretty sure you had slept with his fiancée a few years ago. last you’d heard they’d had a baby, maybe you’d offer to babysit sometime.

“why not? are you a groupie?” abby asks.

“can’t be a groupie if i barely know who you are. so why don’t we get to know each other better. preferably in private.”

“whatever you say, darlin.”

you hear the sudden sounds of a few hoots and claps and a familiar song that they always play to get people dancing.

“why don’t you show me some of your moves, big girl?”

she rolls her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh before following you onto the dance floor.

as much as she’s trying to fight it, you can tell abby is enjoying herself, learning quickly as you show her the moves to the dance. you’re a bit surprised she doesn’t know it already until she tells you she’s originally from utah.

“what, they don’t have country bars out in salt lake.”

“no, not like this. at least i never went to any of them.”

“wellll if you ever need a tour guide i’m available. whenever you want me.”

“god, manny told me about you.”

“really? what’s he say? i can probably guess.”

“so you know everybody thinks you’re a playgirl who sleeps with cowgirls for damn near a living and you don’t care?”

you shrug. “‘m just young and having fun. maybe everyone else, including you, is too uptight.”

“oh really? and what, you're supposed to help me loosen up?” she raises a single eyebrow. you don't answer, deciding to just look at her face for a while.

you like how pretty she is. the soft blue of her big eyes, the freckles dotted across her face that trail down her neck and disappear into her shirt. you feel pride in your chest when you see her cheeks redden.

when the song ends you pull away from her, ready to go over and tell your friends goodbye when a large hand grips your wrist, tugging your body back to its previous position. before you can question her you feel the weight of her hat sitting on your head.

"well? you gonna answer my question?"

you can still remember the looks on your friends face's when abby told them she was heading home, still gripping your hand. manny looked like he had just seen pigs fly.

it was hard to ignore the way she didn't let go of you until she was driving or the looks she was giving you when she was looking at the road, or how desperate she was when you finally got her here, dragging you to her room and attaching her strap like she'd die if she didn't get you in bed.

"i don't see what the big fuss is about, this really isn't that hard." you tease her, admiring the way she whines when you refuse to let her wrists go from your hands, using all your strength to keep her from flipping you over

but maybe you should learn when to shut your mouth because she roughly starts bucking her hips, smiling at the euphoric look on your face before you hide your face in her neck, trying and failing to muffle your moans.

"what? i thought you said this was easy?" she laughs when she hears your muffled groan, failing to ignore when you roughly bite her. you can tell she's getting frustrated at being restrained, her hands clenching into fists and repeatedly trying to get them from under your hands. "fuckin - cmon, baby, lemme help you."

god, she was so cute. you'd never say it out loud but you liked all the little nicknames she gave you, the gentle kisses she would place on your skin when she was warming you up for her. if you didn't have a one-time policy you would have chosen to keep her around. just for a little while.

but you could also see the inner turmoil in her eyes, the battle between dominance and submission. when you first met her you thought she'd be a stone top, so you decide to take advantage and reach one of your hands up to her hair and pull, forcing a loud moan from her as her mouth gaped open.

"not so uptight now, are you?" you laugh, awwing at her when she lets out a small whine.

you didnt realize until it was too late that it was a mistake to underestimate her because she was attaching her hands to your hips, planting her feet on the bed, and thrusting up into you like a wild bull, sucking a mark into your chest like she can't see you struggling to breathe.

"yeah, that's it. not so easy now, is it darlin'?"

and oh how you hate how you can't answer her, only able to muster up a weak glare as the pleasure grows, feeling the burning heat gross in your stomach. you're trying to hold off, not ready for this to end just yet, and hating the satisfied look on her face when your shaky arms wrap around her neck.

"you gettin' close, baby?" she maneuvers your legs to spread wider, hitting that spot inside you at just the right angle. god, everything feels so hot and overwhelming and so damn good-

"that's it, show me how pretty you look cummin around me." once she reaches a hand down and roughly rubs your clit it's over, moaning and gasping her name as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. she never stops her movements, in fact, you think she goes harder once she feels your nails dig into her arms.

your head flops onto her shoulder, basking in your post-orgasm bliss as her large hands rub up and down your back. mind hazy, you feel yourself drifting off and giving yourself a mental pat on the back when you're shocked upwards by a fierce thrust from below you, wide eyes darting to abby's.

"what, ya thought we were finished? if you wanna claim me you gotta earn it, bunny."

"oh no, abby i cant-" you try to decline, not sure you can take another before she presses you back into her sheets, manhandling your legs over her shoulders and your arms under your back. she can tell you're about to fight it because she's pushing her strap into you again.

it's embarrassing how close you are already after a few minutes, unable to move as she splits you open in a damn mating press. trying to hide your face in the sheets is futile so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with her, which only brings you closer to the edge because she's looking at you like she wants to fuck you until she physically can't anymore.

she's quieter now but you can hear her mumbling under her breath about how 'you're too damn fine, jesus you're gonna be the death of me,' and the next thing you know you're both cumming, feeling the wet mess grow between your legs.

she sinks into you, boneless on top of you as she gently rubs at your sides as you do the same for her head. after a few minutes she gets up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips at your soft whine at the strap leaving you before heading off to the bathroom to get a washcloth.

it's gentle as you both clean the other, softly trailing the rag down her arms as she observes you. its almost...domestic. which you haven't done in quite a while. it feels nice.

when she gets up to throw it in the hamper you reach for your clothes on the floor before she questions you.

"excuse me, what do you think you're doin?"

"uhh...leaving?"

"nope, bad manners if i let you go home now," she tosses you a shirt from one of her drawers, finding her own pajamas before flopping on her bed. "i don't know what kinda girls in the circuit you've been seein', but I'm not like that."

you're on the fence, rubbing the fabric of her large shirt before putting it on and settling in next to her. it couldn't hurt just to sleep with her, right? "fine. but you should know i don't normally do...this."

"me neither. but there's a first time for everything, right?" she smiles, rubbing your hip from over the shirt before trailing it under. "besides, maybe we can go again in the morning. still need to prove to you I'm not uptight."

thank god for dolly parton.

sorry if this is shorter than expected i feel like death. can we all do rodeo!abby this summer. pretty please.

taglist : @euphternal @jupiter-502 @vqxen @youcallmeconnor @andersonlore i love you guys im giving you kisses rn

#rodeo!abby #buckle bunny!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby #tlou #abby x reader #tlou2 #tlou 2 #tlou smut #tlou x reader

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multxfacies · 1 month ago

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Logan’s heart raced as Isla’s words sank in, and he could feel the playful pressure from their friends outside the door. Normally, he’d thrive on a good dare, but this was Isla, and it was different. He scratched the back of his head, trying to piece together a response that didn’t make him sound like a total idiot...for once.

"Kiss you?" he repeated, voice cracking a little, which only made him cringe internally. "Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, you’re great, it’s not like I don’t want to..." He trailed off, his brain scrambling. "But, uh, this whole... 'crowd of people waiting outside' thing kinda takes the magic out of it, y’know?"

He flashed her a nervous grin, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I’m usually pretty good at this dare stuff—bulls, ropes, the whole nine yards—but, uh, kissing you on command?" He chuckled, more at his own awkwardness. "That’s a whole different kind of rodeo, Isla."

Logan tried to regain some composure, but the words just kept slipping out wrong. "It’s just—you're... not the kind of girl you kiss in a closet just to shut up a bunch of idiots. You're—" He gestured vaguely in her direction, as if that explained everything, his smile widening with his own fumbling. "You’re, like, way too... important for that, right?"

He laughed at himself then, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. "Wow, okay, this is not going how I thought it would. Uh... how about we save this kiss for a moment that doesn’t involve our entire friend group taking bets on it? I promise I’ll do a much better job when we’re not, y’know, under the spotlight...well, under the closet bulb light," With a sheepish grin, he added, "Unless you’re just desperate for a terrible first kiss story. In which case, I guess I’m your guy. Or unless you just don't want to kiss me at all, in which case, I also totally get."

open to: anyone

muse: isla gray. twenty three. phd student & lifeguard..

plot: based on this

“ come on - just kiss me already. ” isla all but begged her friend so they could get out of the room the two were now locked in, friends cheering for them to kiss outside. “ you're really starting to hurt my ego now. ”

#logan donovan || interactions #fcxglove #logan x isla #logan's a professional bull rider; early/mid 20s #also hope this is okayyyyyy

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gaydaroreilly · 3 months ago

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Um so Jake as a sexy professional mechanical bull rider who Bradley meets at Nat’s bachelorette party… (based on a TikTok on my fyp of a bull rider taking a dudes ball cap off, putting it on himself, and then pulling the guys hair)

Bradley stumbles off the bull stunned and forgets to get his hat back and just dazes out the rest of the night. On the wedding day he’s shocked to see Javy’s best man is the bull rider he’s been dreaming about. After the wedding Jake makes good on his hat code promise and rides Bradley in his hotel room wearing said hat.

#hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #fanfic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #sereshaw

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pbrsource · 9 months ago

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JB Mauney announced as head coach of the Oklahoma Wildcatters! (source)

#jb mauney #pbr #professional bull riders #bull riding #oklahoma wildcatters

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frontproofmedia · 2 years ago

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PHOTOS: Professional Bull Riders: PBR - Unleash The Beast - Chicago

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

By Steven B. Weinberg

Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');

Published: January 17, 2022

PBR UNLEASH THE BEAST

“The PBR’s nationally-televised Unleash The Beast (UTB) features the world’s Top 30 bull riders going head-to-head against the fiercest bucking bulls on the planet.”

All Photos: Steven Weinberg/Frontproof Media

#SW #PBR #Professional Bull Riders

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lonestar-badash · 2 years ago

Note

You're killin me with this face riding posts!

Well, it IS rodeo time in Houston, Baybeeeee!

Professional Bull Rider

vs.

Professional Beard Rider 😈

#l-ba #my asks #pbr #professional bull rider #or #professional beard rider

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the-froschamethyst4 · 4 months ago

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Bull Rider

𖤐Pairing: PBR! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, kissing/making out, language, children, married couple, nipple play, groping, P in V, reverse cowgirl,

𖤐Summary: You watch your husband John Price, a professional bull rider, but Price is a bit upset with himself because he didn't beat his own record and he let's Y/n help him with being a frustrated

————

John Price a Professional Bull Rider walked down the long hallway saddle over his shoulder as he was heading to the ring. He loved his job of being a Professional Bull Rider bring home the money for him and his family.

Y/n sits in the bleachers waiting for John, Iris her year old daughter sits on her lap and her 4 year old son Beau sits next to her drinking from whatever soft drink she bought for him.

"Mama, when is daddy coming out?" Beau asks.

"Soon Beau, it's his turn," she says, patting his dirty blonde hair.

Y/n looks down at Iris who's face was covered in cheese from the nachos.

"Iris," Y/n groans and Iris just laughs as Y/n grabs some wet-wipes and cleaned off Iris's face the best she could.

"And there's John Price's family, his lovely wife Y/n Price, little Iris with nacho cheese all over her, poor mama Price, and Beau, a little spitting image of John Price," the announcer says.

"And speaking of John Price, here he comes now." The other announcer says.

John came into the ring and heads to the shoot, where he'll be riding a bull that has sent multiple bull riders into the hospital. The bull's name is Cash. A 4 ton weighing bull.

John was nervous, Cash was very intimidating bull and if he's in the hospital there is no telling if John will walk away with a broken bone or bones or without his life.

Y/n watches as he gets on the gate and looks down at the black bull. He gets on the back of Cash. He takes a deep breath and wraps the robe around his hand and takes some more deep breaths.

"You ready!?"

"Yeah!" John yells.

Y/n was nervous for Price. She wanted him safe. The buzzer goes off and Cash was released from the shoot, Price on his back and Cash trying to buck Price off, Price just needed to last around 8 seconds on Cash's back, Price's record on the back of a bull was 14 seconds, it was considered a world record.

Cash keeps bucking but has a good hold on Cash. With one final buck Price was knocked off, Cash then goes up and lands on his back and Price quickly rolls before Cash could land on him.

"Holy shit," Price cusses as the cowboys started to move Cash back to the shoot. Price leaned on his knees and started to catch his breath, Price looks at the clock and saw his time 11 seconds.

"Fuck," he cusses again, he wanted to do better.

-------------

Price did end up winning he sits in the greenroom with a glass of whiskey in his hand, he had changed out of his gear and was now in jeans, a random red t-shirt, and black cowboy boots.

Y/n was coming down the hall with her kids behind her, she knocks on the door and opens it. Price sat alone in his greenroom.

"John? I thought you would be with the other guys celebrating?"

"I just wanna go home," John says, placing his glass on the little table next to the couch.

"Okay, come on," Y/n says, taking John's hand and they walked out of the backrooms.

John buckles his kids into their car seats, Y/n gets in the passenger seat and John started up the truck. One hand on the wheel and the other resting on Y/n's thigh like usual.

------------

John carried little Iris as Y/n held Beau, opening his bedroom door and gently laying him down on his bed, tucking him into bed. John came into the bedroom seeing Y/n kiss Beau's temple and telling him 'good night'.

Price held Y/n's hand as they walked to their bedroom together, Price was overwhelmed and stressed, he wishes he beat his own record, 11 seconds!? What kind of bullshit is that!?

Price changed into his pajamas, which was just sweatpants and no shirt, he fell on his back on his side of the bed. He looks at his phone as Y/n was doing her nightly routine.

"John, is everything okay?" Y/n asks, coming into the bedroom, moving the covers over her legs as she moves a bit closer to him.

"Yep," he says, not even looking at her.

"John, I know you, I've been with you for 7 years, I know when something is bothering you. Tell what's wrong." She asks.

"Fine," he turns his phone off and places it on his nightstand. "I wish I did better. I wish I was able to beat my own record. I...I feel like I let you down, I feel like I let the kids down, I didn't do that good tonight-"

"John, John, John, I understand but you didn't let anyone down, not me and not the kids, you did your best, it's not like...I was gonna leave you because you didn't beat 14 seconds, who cares? You have plenty and more opportunities to beat it, just the one time you didn't shouldn't matter," she says, cupping his face, making him look at her.

"Love-"

"Don't love me, I know what you are going to say, and I you're right, I won't understand because I don't do your job, but come on, Price, it's one time...don't let it get to you, I'll still be here for you, the kids will still be here."

She then kissed his lips, once she pulled away, John gave her a soft smile, his hand moving hair from her face, kissing her forehead and then her cheek, then kissing her neck.

"I want you," Price mumbles close to her ear. Price's hands then started moving up her shirt squeezing her breasts, pinching at her hardened nipples.

His lips were rough and dry, but he licks them getting them wet as he kisses her neck again, and then kissed her lips. He managed to take her shirt off tossing it somewhere in the bedroom and then pulled her shorts off next. She was just in her panties now.

Price puts her on her back as he leans over her, removing his sweatpants, he messes with his dick in his boxers, kissing her neck and then started kissing her lips.

He pushes his bulge against her wet panties.

"God you make me so fucking frustrated," he mumbles against her lips.

"Good," she teases.

Price pulls her panties off seeing her slick on her pussy. He puts two fingers against her slick and starts moving his fingers watching the sticky slick string between his fingers. He brings it to his mouth and starts licking his fingers clean.

He pulls his boxers off and lines himself at her entrance and slowly pushes into her, she moans but muffles them by covering her mouth. She didn't want to wake the kids up.

Price laid on his back hands on Y/n's waist pulling her to sit on top of him.

"Bounce, baby," he demands.

She tries to get use to his size and then placed her hands on his lower stomach, and slowly started to bounce, her breasts bouncing with every slight movement, Price smirking leaning his head back and his right arm behind his head, and left hands resting on her hip.

Y/n's head goes back as a few soft moans escape from her lips, she looks down at his bare chest, her nails slightly digging into his chest, he groans but loves the feeling.

She squeezes around his dick. He moans and then places his hands on her waist helping bounce a bit faster.

"Keep going, baby," he says.

She moves a bit faster now, but then starts moving up and then watching as Price dick spit out cum, she moves his dick to lie against his stomach, she then sits on his dick and starts slowly grinding against his dick.

She moans and he does too. She then could feel her high coming on, she starts grinding a bit faster, then with one more grind she felt herself start to cum. She sits up and watches as cum leak from her and land on his dick.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

----------

Price held Y/n against the bed as he starts pounding into her, Price has made her cum at least 3 different times, this was the last time, she ended up coming all of his dick.

Price smirks and looks down at her, kissing the back of her neck and pulling her up off the bed and letting her rest against his bare chest.

"Price, I'm all sticky and I stink."

"It's okay, baby, I'll start a bath for you."

Price left the bedroom and started to run a nice hot bath for her, grabbing a bath bomb and putting it into the bath, he plugs the tub drain and goes back into the bedroom and picks Y/n up off the bed and placed her into the hot bathtub.

Price sits behind her as she leans into his touch and Price starts washing Y/n's body.

Beau had woke up to the sound of laughter, he removes his covers and went to his parents bedroom, he peaks through the small crack of the door seeing Price mess with Y/n's damp hair.

Y/n had on one of Price's shirts and panties as Price was in a pair of boxers, Price kissed Y/n and Beau opened the door.

"Beau?" Price says.

"I can't sleep," Beau says.

"Come here, baby," Y/n says opening her arms and letting Beau come rest in her arms. She starts running her finger through his dirty blonde hair and kissed his temple.

"Mama, why is your hair wet?"

"Just took a bath baby."

"Oh, you smell good, mama," Beau nuzzles his head into her arms.

"Well, I'm glad," Price looks at his wife and son and smiled at the both of them.

"Let's get some rest," Price yawns.

"Right."

Y/n starts moving the covers over Beau's shoulder and holding him messing with his hair and kissing his forehead.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x you #price x reader #captain price cod #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #john price

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thissying · 2 years ago

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“On Wednesday afternoon the news came that the Grand Prix was cancelled and then Max himself came up with the idea of organizing a sim race, so that there is still something to experience for the fans this weekend, but also to draw attention to what is happening in Emilia-Romagna and to support the people affected by the storm. "So this really happens on Max's initiative," Atze Kerkhof of Team Redline told Motorsport.com. “Max will of course participate and there will be quite a few members of the Red Bull Junior Team with Enzo Fittipaldi, Ayumu Iwasa, Arvid Lindblad, Jak Crawford and Isack Hadjar. There will also be drivers from Formula E, including Antonio Felix da Costa and Oliver Rowland. Three-time Supercars champion Shane van Gisbergen and Luke Browning have also agreed to participate.”

F2 driver Richard Verschoor, Aston Martin reserve Felipe Drugovich and Alpine reserve Jack Doohan have also been confirmed via Twitter. A grid of twenty-five to thirty drivers is targeted. Kerkhof himself will also participate, just like a few other riders from the Team Redline stable. “But also Sebastian Job, who is part of the Red Bull Racing Esports team. So it will be a nice mix of professional sim drivers and names that normally come out on the track.”

Just like the previous races that were held under the name Real Racers Never Quit, they will be driven on iRacing. “We will be running four races in a row at the Imola circuit, with four different cars,” Kerkhof explains the format of Sunday's event. “We are doing a race with a Formula 3, a race with a Formula Ford, a race with a Mazda MX-5 and a race with a Toyota GR86. Max chose these cars because they are not too difficult to master in the game, are fun to drive and can make for entertaining races for the viewers. We could also have gone for a Formula 1 or GT3, but then you will spend a lot more time getting to know the game version of the car and it might also be less competitive in the races. But because we want to have races that are fun to watch first and foremost, Max picked these four.”

As mentioned earlier, Verstappen wants to raise money with the sim race for the victims of the storm in Emilia-Romagna. “We will support the same action as AlphaTauri,” explains Kerkhof. “As you know that team is based in Faenza and that place has also been hit hard. We will show a link and QR code in the stream that can be used to donate money to the emergency fund. We will encourage anyone watching to make a donation."

Setting up a major sim racing event this hastily is no easy feat. Kerkhof: “Verstappen.com Racing and Team Redline have worked together to get this event off the ground. And Verstappen.com Racing is in turn supported by Red Bull, which has helped to gather some of these drivers. So yes, it is a lot of work, but the fact that Verstappen.com Racing and Team Redline have joined forces makes it a lot easier.” - Atze van de Kerkhof about tomorrow's RRNQ (X)

#f1 #max verstappen #team redline #sim racing #rrnq #gp imola #atze van de kerkhof

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aestheticaltcow · 9 days ago

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Meeting the Parents

Rhett meets your parents, and things went a different direction.

Outer Range Master List

Rhett was standing at your door, still sweaty from the work he’d been doing on the ranch that afternoon. He’d just knocked, and as he pulled his phone from his pocket, he heard someone call from behind him. Rhett looked over his shoulder to see a man and woman in their late 50s. The man was carrying two suitcases. “Excuse me, young man.” the woman called. Rhett pushed his phone back into his pocket and shifted his full attention to the pair.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“This is Sweet Rocks Apartments, right?” she asked sweetly, Rhett confirmed politely. “See Nicolas. I told you we were in the right place.” she scolded the man behind her. He shook his head and the woman walked closer to where Rhett stood. “We’re here visiting our daughter, but my husband drove us to the wrong apartment complex.” Rhett chuckled while the man muttered something under his breath. “Oh. Do you know her?” she asked, pointing toward your door.

“Melissa, just because Y/N moved to this pointlessly rural city doesn’t mean everyone knows her.” Nicolas scolded, setting the bags down as he stood beside her. Rhett connected the dots and realized this was Nicolas and Melissa, your parents. As panic flashed through his head, your door swung open.

“Sorry, Rhe—Mom, Dad… you guys are here early,” you nervously greeted when you saw your parents standing slightly behind Rhett. “This is Rhett…he’s my boyfriend. Rhett, these are my parents…” you stepped into the hallway to allow the three of them into your apartment. Rhett grimaced at the introduction and watched your Dad give him a dirty look. Rhett adjusted the baseball hat on his head and watched your Mom walk into your apartment. Your Dad shot you a disapproving look as he shuffled the suitcases inside.

You looked at Rhett apologetically as you explained, “I’m sorry, I thought they were coming next week.”

“When I’m out of town for the rodeo?” Rhett chuckled. You groaned at what was a complete coincidence. “You embarrassed by me, pretty girl?”

“Trust me, cowboy—you don’t want to get to know my parents.” You sighed. “They aren’t like Cece and Royal.” you pushed a hand through your hair and stepped toward your open door, “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to…”

Rhett shook his head, “Come on let’s go inside.”

“So, Rhett, what do you do for a living?” your Mom asked as you handed her a glass of wine.

“I’m a professional bull rider… work at the family ranch,” Rhett answered as your Dad continued staring him down.

“Oh- that’s nice.” she smiled cautiously. You swallowed and picked at your cuticles. Your parents had always judged your and your sibling’s romantic partners. “We aren’t intruding on anything, right, sweet pea?” your Mom asked in her sickly sweet voice.

“Nonono, we were just going to hang out and watch a movie or something…” you deflected. Your Dad hummed at your response, “I thought you guys weren’t coming into town until next week.”

“That was the plan, but the university wanted your Dad to come do his lecture early- Nicolas has a PhD in aerospace technology, and he’s been going on university tours since he wrote his last instructional manual about how to utilize AI better-”

“Melissa, don’t bother explaining. I’m sure the professional bull rider has little to no interest in something so scientifically complex.” your Dad cut off. Rhett bit his tongue at the passive-aggressive comment.

“Nicolas.” your Mom scolded, “I apologize for him, Rhett. He never thinks anyone is good enough for our one and only Y/N. But that doesn’t mean he has permission to be an ass.”

You laughed awkwardly, unsure what to do or say to diffuse the situation. Rhett nodded, “It’s okay, Mrs. Y/L/N-”

“Call me Melissa. Mrs. Y/L/N was my bitch of a mother-in-law.” your Mom snapped in your Dad’s direction. You laughed louder and offered to get some snacks from the kitchen.

“Melissa, don’t go off and cause a scene. I know how you loathe making a bad first impression,” your Dad said, rolling his eyes in her direction.

“Well, Nicolas, I wouldn’t have to make a scene if you were less of an ass.” she asserted, setting her wine glass on the small coffee table that separated the two of them.

“Mom, Dad, let’s not do this now.” you sputtered. Rhett squeezed your knee, noticing your growing anxiety. You looked at him, and he shot you an assuring look before he cleared his throat.

“As I was saying, I may not have some fancy PhD, but at least I can treat the woman I love with respect.” Rhett said to your Dad.

An awkward silence fell over the room as your Dad stared Rhett down. Your Mom broke the silence, “Nicolas. You owe this young man an apology and then we’re going to the hotel.”

You Dad glared at her before muttering a half ass ‘apology’ to Rhett. He got up from his chair and exited your apartment without another word leaving the suitcases and your Mom behind. She laughed, “Well, that’s the man I married… It was nice meeting you Rhett. I’ll call you late sweet pea.” your Mom grinned and got up from the couch. As she walked over to grab the suitcases your Dad had abandoned, Rhett quickly got up to grab the bags for her.

“Allow me Ma’am.”

“Oh. You’re a sweetheart aren’t you.” your Mom smiled and lead Rhett out of the apartment.

You stared down into the dirty sink water as you attempted to wash the dirty dishes from your parent’s visit when you heard your apartment door open again. “You okay, baby?” Rhett asked as he came up behind you, wrapping your arms around your waist. You shrugged as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Did you mean it?” you asked placing the glass you’d been washing in the drying rack beside the sink.

“Mean what?” Rhett quiered as his lips brushed against your neck.

“You love me?” you asked as you placed your hands ontop of his.

“I do. I love you. And respect you. And I promise I’ll never treat you like that.”

You giggled and squeezed Rhett’s hands before turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss, “I love you too, Rhett.”

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott fan fiction #rhett abbott fan fic #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott one shot #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott blurb #rhett abbott fanfictioon #outer range #outer range fan fiction #outer range fan fic #outer range imagine #outer range blurb #outer range one shot #outer range x reader #outer range fanfiction

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