COMMISSION. vol. 1
SUMMARY — you're the weird tillerson girl, your brother's joke that you make billy look normal by comparison, but you don't really care. you enjoy life off the ranch, living in town and contributing to the community. your art studio is your sanctuary, and the day that rhett abbott walks in asking to commission a painting for his parents anniversary, your world flips upside down.
PAIRING — rhett abbott x fem!tillerson!reader
WORD COUNT — 3.4k
WARNINGS — swearing, tillersons?, pining, reader is extremely embarrassed, no mentions of y/n — is referred to as "my girls" (by luke) & tillerson (by rhett), bearly proofread (we die like men)
A/N — i am on episode three of outer range, please be kind to me, ALSO LEWIS PULLMAN,, THE MAN YOU ARE.
MASTERLIST
shock doesn't even begin to cover what flashes through your chest when you see rhett abbott sitting in the front waiting area of your studio. you're sitting in the main office, sifting through paperwork when you feel eyes on the side of your face. you're alone, or you should be. your assistant is out running errands, and you weren't running any art classes today. so, feeling eyes on you, set you on edge. then, you look up, eyes catching on a familiar face. not necessarily an unwelcome one—your brothers might not feel the same—by your standards at least. just, rhett is the last person you'd ever expect to be here.
you've been staring too long. you stand up, straightening your shirt as you walked through the glass doors, and out into the small waiting area. he stands immediately, pulling his hat off.
"abbott," you say, "what brings you in?"
he looks almost conflicted for a moment, like maybe he's rethinking his decision to walk in here. you can hardly say you blame him. your families have been feuding for years, long before either of you'd been born.
"i, uh," he starts, then clears his throat. "i'd like to commission something... if you have time."
now that, surprises you even more. you'd known rhett socially in high school. he'd been friends with some of your friends, and their boyfriends. it was inevitable that you'd cross paths, well, that and you'd lived next door to his family your whole life. you'd been the weird tillerson girl; the quiet one covered in paint, sketchbook like an extension of you, barely rooted in reality. even two of your older brothers had made comments about you making your other brother, billy, look normal. you didn't care about ranching, the politics of it, or the money. you especially didn't care about the money.
after high school, you'd took off to new york to study art. but, four years later, you returned to wabang. you'd felt like you'd left half of yourself behind when you left, and that had nothing to do with the ranch, or, selfishly, your family. you'd just missed wyoming. wabang was your home. so, begrudgingly, with your trust fund, you'd purchased a building in town, and turned it into an art studio, a non-profit that helped bring art back to your hometown. you'd helped fund the severely lacking art department at your former high school, and helped build a warm, caring community for the next generation of artists.
you'd crossed paths with rhett and the other abbott's upon your return, but it was different. while before, most people respected you solely for your last name, tillerson's weren't to be fucked with, much less you, the whimsical, soft spot of your down-right scary older brothers. but now? you weren't just the weird tillerson girl. you were an active, loved, member of the community. you stood on your own two legs, not propped up by your family's legacy. you were consciously carving your own path forward.
the abbott's had always been kind to you, especially cecilia, and later, amy. who frequented your art classes, a trail of questions about shading, technique and many other things falling from her, that you'd answer patiently, and warmly. rhett you'd seen around; nights at the bar, or bull riding. but, this might be the first time he'd looked you in the eyes and actually spoke to you since high school.
"i've got time," you reply, tilting your head. "why don't you follow me,"
you turn, walking back into the main office. you quickly gather your paperwork up into a stack, and tuck it away. you bend sideways, pulling your portfolio out from one of the desk drawers as rhett settled, uncomfortably in the chair in front of your desk.
"i don't often get commissions anymore unless they're huge ass murals for the town," you admit, setting the binder down. "what were you thinking?"
"it's my parents wedding anniversary in a couple of months," he says, eyes trained on your hands, which are folded on top of the binder in front of you. "my mom, she, uh,"
his blue eyes flick up to meet yours.
"y'know those live painting's that they do now adays?"
you nod, "sure, i've done a few of them over the years,"
"i overheard her talking to rebecca, and she'd really wished she'd known that was a thing when she and my dad got married. so i was wondering, if i got the video of their wedding, if you might be able to recreate their first dance or something,"
your eyes light up, "yes. oh i'd love to do it."
he chuckles at your enthusiasm, lips quirking up, "my only concern,"
you know where this is going, "cost?"
he nods, "what's the damage gonna be?"
you take a deep breath and sit back, "that kind of depends on three things. medium; acrylic, oil or water colour. detail. and what exactly you're looking for. i can do mock up's, uh, sketches to give you an idea of what it could look like, but it'll be vague because you won't be able to see how the paint looks."
"sure," he's chewing on his bottom lip as he mulls over what you've said.
rhett is way out of his depth here, you know that, and so does he. so you lean forward, and flip open the binder.
"i can show you some finished examples. again, it'll give you an idea of what it could look like." he nods again, focusing in on your hands ghosting over the plastic lined pages.
you flip to an acrylic painting you'd done years ago, it was actually of rhett. something in your chest flared, embarrassment maybe? at the time, you hadn't realized it was him. you'd been sitting in the stands snapping pictures, and sketching what you saw. you'd gotten home that night, and stayed up until dawn. billy had come into your room to fetch you for breakfast when his eyes landed on the finished painting sitting on your easel. he'd tilted his head to the side, "why'd you paint rhett abbott?" he'd asked.
your eyes had flashed to the cowboy's back, scrunching your face up. "it's not... what?" billy had stepped up to the drying canvas, and pointed to the dark blue shirt, and then to the number. "abbott was the only one wearing blue last night," he'd said it so matter-of-factly that it left your face burning. of course billy of all people would notice that rhett was the only bull rider in blue that night. billy hadn't teased you, he'd just mutter "breakfast" and left, a melody following him as he swept out of your room.
your face is hot, as you flick past the page, settling on a different page. dear god, did he notice that? did he recognize himself? it was a long time ago. hopefully he hadn't. okay, maybe you'd noticed rhett a bit more than you were letting on, but you'd been warned about the abbott's your whole life. so, your pull towards rhett had been shoved down, ignored. you'd broken all kinds of family rules, shattered expectations, but getting close to the abbott's wouldn't break a rule, it would be setting your life on fire, and probably mean losing your brother's in the process. there'd be no coming back from that betrayal.
anyway, who's to say that rhett even saw you. you were strictly off limits in his family too. royal was polite to you when he'd occasionally pick amy up from class, but you could see the distain in his eyes clear as day. it was the same way he looked at your brothers, and father. you can't force your eyes up to see, you just tap the page, and turn the binder so he can see it better. it's your eldest brother luke, sitting on his favourite horse, staring out over one of your family's pastures.
"this would be an example of what water colour might look like," you say, wanting to disappear into the floor.
"wow," he mutters, leaning forward to get a better look. "you painted that?"
your chest tightens, "uh, yeah... it was for luke's graduation."
you lift a chunk of pages up, and flip it over, stopping on a family portrait you'd done of your family last year. your mother had been dropping hints about wanting one of all six of you to hang up over the fireplace for months, so, you'd forced your brothers into posing for reference shots, and then for her birthday you'd given it to her.
"this is from last year. i used oil paints. heavier canvas, and longer drying times."
you're barely getting through this consultation, and you're praying that your assistant, ivy would hurry her ass up. at least you'd have a buffer. you can feel his eyes on you again, and you flip to another print, the last one.
"this," you say, trying really hard to keep the nerves from leaking into your voice. "would be acrylic."
his eyes trail back down to the binder, and the silence that stretches has your heart in your throat. you'd just flipped. you didn't look. your eyes snap to the page, and your heart slams into your ribcage. good god. it's a piece you'd completely forgotten about all together. it's... well, you and rhett, and few other friends. an example portrait you showed in your intermediate classes, a group photo. it had been the best photo of yourself you'd ever seen. you were tucked into rhett's side, free arm tossed casually over your shoulder as he tried to make room for everyone.
it wasn't how you normally saw yourself in the slightest; you were smiling big, radiant beside him. if anything, it was how you wished to be seen. your reference photo for this one had been from yours and rhett's senior year. and if you remember correctly, rhett had taken it. a throw away group photo you hadn't thought about in years.
it was early june, you were at a field party your friends had dragged you along to and you'd stood on the outskirts taking pictures for the yearbook, trying to keep it pg. when rhett had snuck up behind you, stolen the camera from your hands and had called over your friends to get in. "you're always takin' pictures tillerson, you should be in some," he'd winked at you. winked. it had caught you so off guard that you'd laughed, and he'd managed to capture that moment. you still had the original photo stuck to your fridge, a small memento of simpler times.
"i remember this," rhett says, finger siding over his face, and then yours. "you were takin' pictures for the yearbook."
you swallow hard, trying and failing to calm yourself again. embarrassed seems to be the theme for today.
"yeah," you mumble, face burning. "uh, anyway,"
you shift uncomfortably in your seat, and then snap the book closed. need to fuckin' strip your portfolio of everything. you'd never been this embarrassed in your life. you'd shown these pieces to everyone who'd ever been interested in your art, and had never. never. felt this way about it. you finally lift your eyes up, and he's already looking at you. you're trying so damn hard to be professional, but you know the minute he leaves you're going to start throwing things.
"what were you thinking? do you have a preference?" you ask, voice small as you tear your eyes away from his, busying yourself with tucking your portfolio back into the drawer.
"i think i liked the oil paint, but you said that was more time consumin' so i'm guessin' that means more expensive?"
you nod, scrunching your face. then you hear a loud crash from the back of the studio, and you're on your feet, all but running, rhett hot on your heels. ivy's standing by the back door... well at least there used to be a door there. now, it's laying flat on the floor just a few inches from the doorway. ivy's got her arms hooked through bag handles, and a cardboard tray of iced coffees in her free hand.
"shit! sorry," ivy says, staring at you wide eyed. "i just, i tried to open the fuckin' door and it came off it's hinges.
you sigh, "it's fine. are you okay?"
she nods, "scared the shit outta me, but yeah, all good... uh, who's your shadow?"
she tips her chin forward, gesturing to rhett, who you're now hyperaware is directly behind you. he slips past you, hand brushing your lower back as he goes. you step forwards easing some of the bags out of ivy's grip. setting them down on the counter by the doorway. she flashes you a look that says he's hot. and you just shake your head sending her a pointed, not now look. rhett bends down, in the doorway, and then scoffs.
"the wood around the frame looks like it's rottin', it's gonna have to be replaced." rhett straightens, picking the door up off the floor and setting it back into place. "it can stay like that, but you're gonna have to use the front door 'til it's fixed."
you groan, rubbing your temples, this is the last thing you need right now. you've got a gallery coming up, and then the town gala afterwards. you've really got no time to be chasing down a handyman or contractor, or whoever you're going to need to come in to fix this until later. and having a back door that falls in when you try and open it, means you're more likely to get broken into. not that the studio has much money floating around, but your art supplies are pretty pricey. especially when you live two hours from the closest art supply store.
"great," you laugh humorlessly, "just fuckin' great."
"i can, uh, fix it. for you?" rhett offers awkwardly, clearing his throat.
your head snaps over to look at him, "seriously?"
"yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
"you do this, i'll wave the cost of your commission."
his eyes widen, "really? wait— no. i couldn't—"
"rhett, i need this back door fixed, and i really don't have any time to call around and find someone. you'd really be helping me out."
"ok, uh, just, this is gonna take a couple hours, i don't think that's really fair."
"we have other things that are falling apart if you're that worried about fair," ivy cuts in, and you cast a sideways glance at her. "what?"
you mull it over. ivy's not exactly wrong. there's plenty of stuff that needs fixing, tables falling apart, cabinet doors that have long since fallen off. your concern is having rhett this close, for an extended period of time. you can already hear the small town gossip, and the heated arguments at your family dinner table over it. the back door needs fixed. rhett can't afford your services. win-win. sort of. you sigh, against your better judgement you nod.
"she's right, we can trade. i'll give you a list of shit that needs fixin' and i'll do the painting's."
rhet smirks at you, "i think that'll work,"
you stick your hand out towards him, and he shakes it.
"you got somethin' to put in front of this in the mean time? somethin' big." rhett asks, and you turn, eyes scanning the room.
you settle on a paint cabinet, you gesture to it, and he nods. he follows you over, and while ivy scoots out of the way, the pair of you slowly shift it over to be in front of the doorway. once it's secured, you hear your eldest brother luke's voice echo from the front of the studio. damn it. damn it all to hell. what is my fuckin' luck today? you glance at rhett who's smile has disappeared, and you shuffle out to the front, ivy and rhett trailing behind you. he's standing in the hallway between the office and the waiting area.
"luke," you say, trying to gauge his mood based on his posture.
what ever mood he was in is instantly soured when his eyes land on rhett.
"what's he doin' here?" his voice is laced with venom, as he glares you down.
"he's a customer," you snap back, meeting his energy. "he was placin' an order when the back door nearly took ivy out,"
luke relaxes ever so slightly, eyes landing on ivy, "you okay, sweetheart?"
she nods, "yeah. fine."
"what are you doin' here anyway?" you ask, annoyance dripping from your voice as you cross your arms over your chest.
"came to pick my girls up for lunch," he says, and you check your watch.
it's noon alright. you'd entirely forgotten you'd agreed to going to lunch with ivy and luke. you really don't feel like going now. not when you'd already been dreading family dinner tonight, much less the third-degree you were likely going to get over lunch. you're not hungry now.
"luke, i have to finish this consult, and honestly i'm not very hungry. you and ivy go ahead,"
he sighs at you, but ivy ducks back behind rhett and then reappears with her purse. she hooks her arm through luke's, sensing the hostility. ivy's always been good at reading your brother, you think that's part of the reason they work so well. she shoots you and rhett an apologetic smile, and mouths "i'll bring you back some fries," with a wink before tugging luke out of the studio to his truck.
you relax, arms dropping to your sides, "fuckin' hell, today's been goddamn interesting."
you sigh, and turn to head back into your office, jumping slightly because you'd managed to forget that rhett was standing right behind you.
"jesus, sorry." you laugh, "i forgot you were here,"
"i can see that," he chuckles, as you side step him to go back into the office.
"so, uh, if you can get me the video before the end of the week, i think i can get you some sketches by mid next week and we can finalize everything before i start. how's that sound?" you ask, sliding back into your seat to grab your planner to start marking your timeline in.
"sounds good. when do you want me to start on the door frame?" he asks, sliding back into the seat across from you, picking his hat back up and setting on his lap.
"uh, i guess that depends on when you're free. i know you're busy with the ranch and, training?" you mumble, glancing up at him.
"yeah, usually have a clear schedule around 7-8ish?" he says, his gaze set firmly on you.
"okay, well, i live upstairs, so, whenever you're free you can slide by."
his eyebrows pull together, "you don't live on the ranch anymore?"
you inhale sharply, shaking your head, "uh. no. i moved out six months ago. couldn't handle everything going on with dad, and trevor and luke. besides, i really liked living by myself after i left new york. craved the freedom of being able to walk around no matter the hour without anyone breathing down my neck."
he chuckles at that, "that i get."
he shifts in his seat, and you nod.
"so, i guess that's everything. unless you have any questions for me?"
he shakes his head, then pauses, "can i see your portfolio again?"
your blood runs ice cold, as you nod. it feels nervous, it probably looks awkward from the outside as you slip the binder back out from it's spot, passing it over the table. at this point, you doubt you could get any more embarrassed. duking it out with luke wiped out the last of your energy. you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he flips through the pages. your heart's in your throat when you see see the page he stops on. oh fuckin' christ. he knows. he smirks to himself, and then hands you the book back, and your heart slams into your ribcage.
his fingers brush yours as you take it back, and snap it closed. then he stands, placing his hat back on his head. he steps around the chair, resting his hands on the back at he looks down at you--towers over you.
"your number still the same as in high school, or did you change it?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looks at you.
you're certain he knows your flustered, you can feel the heat creeping back up your neck as you shake your head. "nope, still the same."
"great, i'll text you when i'm on my way over," he winks at you, fucking winks, before heading out of the studio.
you wait until the door clicks closed, and drop your head down on top of the desk, smacking your forehead against the glass. you want to scream.
NEXT
