#Cecilia Low

[darkmovies]

Subject (2023) Date de sortie : 22/08/2023 Réalisateur :  Tristan Barr Scénario : Vincent Befi Avec : Stephen Phillips, Tristan Barr, Cecilia Low

[getfreeviolet]

[hawkfurze]

Been working on this sketchbook for almost a year, so heres some various sketchbook OC and one not OC doodles

[autumnfangirler]

its about girls who are so superficial and insincere in their niceness that no relationship goes any deeper than surface level, vs boys who are so honest in their love that the caustic shell fails among people they cherish btw. if u even care.

[sidesteppostinghours]

congrats to cyrus becker for being my only main step to not randomly go through a massive overhaul one day

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

Dogwood and Azalea festival in Charleston MO

Mother’s Day is coming up soon! When mom, Lori Disque said she wanted to go on a trip I found a festival that fit the bill! My friend Annie Jansen told me about the Dogwood and Azalea festival when I told her of my longing to see flowers. Only four hours from home, it was a win. My sister Debbie Salisbury and I planned our trip. Then away we went. The three of us in Charleston. Arts and Craft…

[enchanting-chit-chat]

Beetlejuice's Backstory and the Black Plague 💚🕷️🥀💀 PART 1

I went and watched the new Beetlejuice movie twice already, can’t wait to share my thoughts! I’ve decided to make a series of posts mainly dedicated to people that are curious about the Black Plague era and BJ's past life. Join me for a historical dive that might make you appreciate Tim Burton’s work even more!

Warning: This post contains SPOILERS for the 2024 movie Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

Premise

In European countries, we often study the Black Plague in schools. In Italy specifically, the disease spread multiple times throughout the Middle Ages, with the two worst pandemics occurring around 1350 and 1630. The first one alone spread in many countries and caused a total of 20 million deaths - a THIRD of the population of the whole European continent at the time.

However, the 1630 outbreak is the one we know about the most, thanks to author Alessandro Manzoni (1785-1873), who described it meticulously in his masterpiece, ‘I promessi sposi' (The Betrothed): This book is one of the most important works in Italian literature. Although it is a novel, it is often treated as historical evidence because Manzoni actually shaped the story referring to archival documents and chronicles of the time.

Introducing: Monatti, the corpse carriers

In his book, Manzoni recalls a group of people called 'monatti' - the only ones allowed to practice public services such as collecting the dead and washing roads during those hellish times. This concession was motivated by the fact that monatti were considered immune to the disease.

However, they were feared and hated by the rest of the population, because they often misused their ‘privileged’ position: they were untouchable. They often extorted money from the living and stole the belongings of the dead and the sick alike, without repercussions. What made them special was the fact that monatti typically gained immunity after surviving the disease themselves.

“Farewell to Cecilia,” one of the most heart-wrenching moments in Manzoni’s novel, beautifully captured by Francesco Gonin.

In fact, the Black Plague typically spread in three ways: through skin contact (bubonic plague), lungs (pneumonic plague) or blood infection (septicemic plague). The Bubonic form was, and still is, the most common and had the highest survival rate, though it was still quite low. It was easily identifiable because it caused the lymph nodes to swell and become infected, forming characteristic 'buboes'.

It was believed that if a plague victim survived five days, the fever would subside, and they would recover within two weeks. This is what usually happened to the monatti. Similarly, Renzo, the protagonist in Manzoni’s book, recovers, though he never becomes a public worker.

Now, let’s dive back into Beetlejuice’s backstory.

Amidst the eerie glow of moonlight, he's depicted among corpses, at night, behind a wagon, stealing from the dead that were just thrown into a communal pit by plague doctors.

Notice how he’s directly touching the bodies with his bare hands, without any protection: usually, that was considered a death sentence.

In Manzoni’s book, there is a character that meets their end in a similar way, simply by touching the clothes of an infected person. During that era, the danger was so great that people used to burn the bodies of the plague victims along with their clothes, beds, and other possessions.

It is also worth mentioning that, during plague outbreaks, some city governments (particularly in Italy and Poland) imposed strict limitations on the movement of people and goods. In some areas, a nighttime curfew was also enforced (Yes, we invented the lockdown centuries ago!). Under those circumstances, being caught outside your own house at the wrong hour could mean instant death. But guess who had the freedom to roam as they pleased? Yes, monatti and plague doctors (and those with special permits).

Conclusion: Beetlejuice wasn’t just 'a humble grave robber', as he claims. He was definitely a plague survivor and, most likely, a monatto.

The fact that this scene was unveiled and narrated in Italian during the Venice Film Festival further convinces me that this is the correct interpretation of the sequence.

So, what do we think? Have you ever heard or read about The Betrothed before? Anyways, if you liked this analysis, make sure to check out PART 2 (coming soon), in which we can delve even deeper into Beetlejuice’s mysterious past!

Until then, have a fantastic week! ✨

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (VI) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3.7K

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all to the taglist.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

Leaked

Cecilia, Lando and George were on a private plane from Italy to Germany, Cecilia said goodbye to her daughter at the airport, the girl was with Cecilia the last month travelling and spending time together, her dad was in Italy for work so on his way back to Monaco he took his granddaughter with him on his plane.

The three drivers were on the plane with a few Mclaren personnel, they had fun the three of them on the plane, Cecilia happily showed Geeorge some of the photos she took of Nattie in Italy. 

The moment the plane landed, and the airplane mode turned off, quite a few phones started buzzing with incoming texts, by a few, I mean every phone minus George.

“Whoa, is Mclaren having an emergency?” George commented, the plane hadn't even stopped when they all started turning the airplane mode off. 

“Fuck.” Lando mumbled, his eyes snapping up from his phone to Cecilia, Cecilia’s PR manager quickly picked up her phone and made some calls.

“What? What happened?” George looked at Cecilia’s phone, the female looked stunt, the only one that hasn’t moved since she opened her phone. “Oh Cece, I’m sorry.” George knew how much Cecilia tried to keep her daughter out of the public’s eyes. So many questions will rise and so many speculations will start, everything the female didn’t want, not mid season, not like this. She knew that one day she’ll announce her daughter to the world, but she wanted it to be on her terms. 

“Cecilia.” Lando said softly, he moved from his seat across from her, he placed his hand on her knee once he kneeled down. She looked up at him and he tried to not look surprised. She didn’t look sad like he expected, no, she looked mad, mother lion just came out to play. You don’t poke a bear if you’re not ready to face it. 

“I’m fine, it was bound to happen.” She says pushing her hair out of her face.

“Still doesn’t make it right.” George stated.

“No it doesn’t, but nothing is right and nothing in life is fair.” She shrugged and pursed her lips, she closed her phone and sighed, she looked at her manager. “Can we deal with this at the hotel?”

“Yeah, it’ll be better then.” 

Once at the hotel, a couple PR managers and a few of Mclaren’s team were in Cecilia’s room, her suite had a living room and a bedroom, on call was the legal team, they were all talking about what to do, if they can sue, and all that. Cecilia was silent the whole time, her phone kept buzzing but she ignored it, so many people she hadn’t talked to in years were calling and texting, she shot a text to her family, Max and friends telling them she’s okay and to sit tight,

Cecilia was over this by the time they were an hour in and nothing was agreed on, she turned to her team principal who sat next to her.

“Can we just not sue anyone and just either not say anything or let me post a picture on instagram, and let us be done with it, it’s not like I did something wrong.” Cecilia asked in a low voice so the conversation could flow between the two of them alone.

“You wanted to keep her hidden.” Seidl said frowning, he was of the understanding that Cecilia wanted to keep her daughter out of the knowledge of people and out of the public eye, she’s always getting hate because of her gender, things have been better after she kept proving everyone that she’s a great driver, but the team suspected that it’ll take another year before most public scrutiny would at the minimum. 

“I did, but there’s nothing we can do now, if we start suing people, then it’ll look like I was hiding her because I’m ashamed, and I don’t want that, I don’t want her at 16 looking me up and seeing this, I’m not ashamed that I have a daughter.” Cecilia explained, he nodded in understanding, and thought about it for a moment.

“Alright, everyone!” Everyone shut up to look at Seidl and hear what he had to say. “Suing isn’t the answer here, let’s leave Cecilia to think this over and let her decide if we respond to this or not.”

“But-”

“No buts, we’ve all had long flights, let's talk about this tomorrow, nothing will change from now to tomorrow.” Standing up, it was a sign for everyone to start packing and leaving, before he left he turned to his driver. “Think it over and tell us tomorrow… you didn’t ask me what I thought about it.”

“What do you think I should do?” 

“I think fuck them all, you’re not the only one on the grid with kids, so why should it matter that you’re a woman, it’s time the public learns to not take you for a weak person.” With a pat to her shoulder he left behind the team. Cecilia felt better knowing her boss felt that way, she didn’t want to find herself teamless at the end of the year.

Cecilia freshened up and changed into sweats with a plain shirt, she hears someone at the door as she’s pulling her hair up in a bun, opening the door, she sees Max. Quickly pulling him in, she sticks her head out looking left and right before she slammed the door shut.

“What are you doing here?” She asks her boyfriend, they always made sure that when they weren’t in the same hotel to always have a lockout and help sneaking in undetected, their friends always helped the couple out. 

“Don’t worry Lando helped me.” She should’ve guessed, Lando is literally in the next suite. Cecilia wrapped her arms in silence around Max, right around his middle, her way of showing him she wanted to be hugged tightly by him. Something that she did and he picked on, when she’d happy and in a good mood, her arms around his neck or in his hair, when she’s sad and just needs some love around his middle. His brain translates the latter to the need to protect. Max’s arms caged her in, across and down her back with one arm, the other across and up reaching the back of her head. Max kissed the side of her head a few times, and he didn’t try to pull away, he’d let her pull away first. Cecilia buried her head in his neck, she wanted to disappear and hide away from the world. The only reason Max knew she was crying is because he felt her tears touching his skin. “Oh schatje, please don’t cry.”

She pulled back just enough for Max to see her face and for her to be able to see him, this is the first time he’d seen her cry and he didn’t like it, it got his blood boiling. His strong girlfriend, she’s been facing so many hardships since she came into the sports. He moved the hand that was in hair to cup her face, and wipe the tears away. Cecilia tried to smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Max asked and Cecilia nodded, she pulled away from him lacing her fingers with his and led him to her bedroom(for the week). Cecilia sat with her back to the headboard, knees to her chest with her chin on her knee. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“No, not 100%.” Cecilia sniffed and turned her head so she could look Max in the eye. “Sdeil left it all to me, I get to decide what I and Mclaren do about this.”

“Then what options are you considering?” Max knew that the only thing he could do in this case is to support her and help Cecilia organise her thoughts, they aren’t out to the public and it would be the worst thing at the moment, it’ll bring her more hate and pressure. 

“We agreed on not suing, but other than that, Mclaren can release a statement saying it’s my private life and ask the public to give me privacy.” This is the least likely scenario she’d go with.

“That’ll do nothing.” Cecilia agreed with Max.

“They can confirm it, but that’ll feel weird, or deny it, even weirder, but I feel like it should come from me.” Cecilia said and her hand moved on the cover she sat on playing with it absentmindedly.

“Why is that?” He wasn't questioning her statement, he wanted to walk through her train of thought with her.

“Because anything else would feel like I’m ashamed of her, which I’m not, so why hide it when it’s already out and in the open.” Cecilia shrugged, she suddenly felt like maybe this isn’t the right decision.

“I get that, you should just post a picture on Instagram and say fuck you to all of them.” Max said and took her hand in his.

“Sdeil said to fuck them all, and just do whatever I want from now on.” Cecilia shared with Max who laughed and agreed with her team principal. “Are you staying the night?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Please.”

“Of course.” It’s been hard saying no to her, and as the time went on it became harder and harder. When Max was changed, shirtless and in a pair of shorts that she had in her bag, he left it once at her hotel and since then it’s been with her for times like this. Whenever she went to his hotel room she’s always in his clothes, Max liked that better.

“You know, I missed you.” 

“We saw each other two days ago.”

“I still missed you, and we saw each other almost everyday in lockdown.”

“I missed you too, schatje.” Cecilia leaned up and kissed his jaw, her hands fell on his shoulder feeling his muscles move as he pulled her closer. They were standing flush against each other, getting their fill of the other, this week will be a hard week and the possibilities of them seeing each other out of the eyes of the public seemed to be less and less. 

Before Cecilia fell asleep she sent a text to Sdeil, he replied with a thumbs up. 

Next day was media day, Max left so early in the morning the sun was barely up. He slipped out of bed as silently as he could and got dressed, Cecilia only felt him when he leaned over to kiss her forehead in goodbye. 

“You’re leaving?” She mumbled, unable to open her eyes fully.

“Yeah, sleep, you still have an hour before you have to wake up.” Cecilia said something he couldn’t understand before she fell back asleep.

Cecilia got in her Mclaren for the week, as she sat there about to get to the circuit she got her phone out, opened Instagram and set everything up before she closed it so she’d post it the moment she hit the circuit. 

The moment she parked, her PR manager and some staff members were by her car’s side, quickly pressing post, she opened the car door and stepped out. She was dressed to kill, gone the team kit.

Her PR manager grinned once she saw her, a new era for the female just began.

Fans screamed once they saw her, cameras were flashing, she stopped and signed hats, cards and everything her fans wanted. But she didn’t answer any questions that were thrown her way, she’ll be asked enough when she gets inside. 

“Hot mama.” Someone said walking beside her, she turned and saw George grinning at her, she laughed and shook her head at his antics, the taller man threw an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t know that it only took pissing you off for you to come ready to kill.”

“Fuck off George.” She jokingly pushed him away, the Williams’ hospitality was next to Mclaren’s for the week.

“Love the new attitude.” He joked and she shook her head.

“Ceciliaaaaa Haaaansson!” Their Aussie friend called as they passed him, she turned to look at him and laughed, he was giving her thumbs up with a big grin.

“Danieeeel Rrrrricciarddooooo!” She called back and he laughed and turned to what he was doing. 

When they reached their hospitalities she saw Seb and Lewis talking in front of Mercedes, Seb caught her eye and gestured for her to come over. Her and George joined the older drivers.

“How are you, Cecilia?” Seb asked concerned, always caring for the woman. 

“Could be better, but I’m armed and ready.” She said with a shrug, but she was smiling. After her crying session yesterday and talking to Max the rage she felt when saw the article came out once again, the fierceness she had on track is coming off track. 

“Looks like I’ll have to step up my fashion game.” Lewis jokes and gives her a wink.

“Don’t worry, no one can come near you, my style is too simple to match yours.” 

“Did you guys see her Instagram post?” George asked the men, he was eager to share the gossip.

“No.” “I don’t have instagram.” 

George took out his phone and once he got the post up he turned it to face them. 

ceciliahansson15

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and  9,397,800 others

ceciliahansson15 On the 15th of June 2016 I was blessed with the greatest gift, my beautiful girl whom I love and hold closer to me than anyone else. I wished to shield her from the cruel world of the public eye, alas now I can share her with the world. So world, say hello to Cecilia Ella Hansson.

More comments

charles_leclerc I’m the favourite uncle!

landonorris Lies

pierregasley I agree with Lando, I’m the favourite

username so beautiful 

username she has her last name

username when you realise the meaning behind her number 🥹

username can you adopt me 🙏🧎‍♀️

“Everyone is going wild online.” George informed them. 

“What can I say, I bring the drama.” Cecilia chuckled and looked at her PR manager. “I have to go, see you guys later.”

Cecilia was in her team shirt, that she tucked into her white pants she had on earlier. Her hair and makeup were like every other week.

Cecilia was called for a briefing, she had a couple solo interviews today, along with the group conference and they were shooting something for Mclaren’s social media and just her luck she’ll be shooting with one of the RedBulls drivers as well.

She was told that the solo interviews questions were already checked and approved with the team, so she had nothing to worry about there. The solo interviews went by in a breeze, she was asked the same questions almost every week. She saw Lando and Pierre in the middle, the trio went and got something to drink, while they were on a break. They too teased her like Geroge did that morning. 

Some of the fan’s favourite moments at the conference.

I(interviewer): The question is for Cecilia, are the rumours about your daughter’s father true?

C: this isn’t a gossiping conference, do you have any questions to do with racing?... no? Okay then, next question please.

**

I: Daniel we know that some of the drivers knew about Cecilia’s daughter did you know too

The drivers rolled their eyes, Seb even chuckled in disbelief.

C: Can i answer this one

D: Go ahead

C: yeah, I don’t see where this concerns you

**

I: Cecilia if you could tell us about your daughter-

C: Come on now guys, I’m not the only person on the grid with kids, I don’t see you all asking them about their children, I’m not answering anything about her, so don’t ask me or the other drivers, they respect my privacy as should you.

I: I’m merely trying to understand

C: That’s fucking bullshit, what the fuck? The double standards you all seemed to have needs to stop, You need to understand jackshit, I gave you all more than you deserve this morning, that’s all, so don’t fucking ask anything more.

Cecilia was photographed having fun with her friends that day, no care in the world. Even though she saw a lot of her friends that day, she hadn’t come across her boyfriend, they were always at the opposite sides all day long. 

For her last obligation for the day, she was standing to the side with her manager. The interviewer was here and they were waiting for one of the RedBull drivers, so it was either Alex or Max. 

The door opened and in walked Max in his RedBull outfit. The two acted like they hadn't seen each other today, sharing a quick hug in greeting, before they settled in front of the camera on a small sofa. 

The female interviewer started with introducing the two, and got on with her questions. This is the first time they’d be interviewed just the two of them, it’s something new.

“Let me start with asking you two about your racing days before you started in formula! I heard you’re friends now, but it wasn’t always like that, is that right?”

“You want to answer that one?” Cecili askes Max knowing that she tried to befriend him when they were younger but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Yeah.” He laughs, hating his younger self, it makes him think how different it would’ve been if they grew up as friends. “To be completely honest, we weren’t the closest, I think we first raced against each other when I was 10?” Cecilia confirms, she was 9 at the time. “And she won our first race, you know as kids she’d win so much more than I did, and had the better car and everything.”

“The thing is at that age, you don’t always realise you can be rivals and not be enemies.” Cecilia added, now as she’s older she saw things in a different light. “Now the grid is filled with friendships from different teams, and given that it is a sport with a small number of people, drivers will be the only ones to understand other drivers, so we become close.”

“That’s very nicely put, at last week’s Grand Prix, there were some people online saying that Cecilia you tried pushing Max off the track.”

“People are saying all sorts of things, I lost grip for a moment and the car started sliding, but I got it back in control before anything could happen.” Cecilia explained the incident, nothing had happened and they both ended on the podium in the end.

“We heard Max cursing on the radio when that happened.” The interviewer added, Cecilia turned to look at Max, she heard the radio messages after the race.

“Yeah well on track you say all sorts of things, at the moment you’re racing you’re full of adrenaline, it’s physical, and if you put microphones on all athletes you’d hear a lot of things.” Max explained calmly.

“So no hard feelings?”

“None at all, we all curse, we all shout, most of the time you don’t even know who you’re cursing at, you just see a car and you know which team, but on the track you don’t think about a single person.” Cecilia added, ending any talk of bad blood between the two that rose online. They were asked a few more questions before the second part of the interview began, and the interviewer will be giving them two options and they’ll have to choose.

“Okay, first one, Cats or dogs?” 

“Cats.” “either.” Max and Cecilia responded at the same time.

“Really, you like cats more.” The interviewer was surprised by Max’s answer.

“Surprising, but he’s thinking of getting a cat.” Cecilia said with a laugh.

“Maybe after the season.” Max shrugged, Max talked to you about it during lockdown and he’s been thinking about it seriously since then, and once Nathalie caught wind of that she’s been begging you for a cat as well. Cecilia’s mum has a no pets policy in the house, she doesn’t like them or want any type of pets.

“Okay, next one, milk or juice with your breakfast?” The drivers laughed and shared a look before in one breath saying.

“Milk.”

“You said that so fast, is there a story behind that?”

“Not really, we’ve just talked about it once.” Max shrugged answering the question.

“Winning your home race or Monaco?”

“Monaco is my home race.” Cecilia says and the interviewer seemed to register that. The questions are standardised for all drivers, so Cecilia didn’t feel offended.

“I’d choose the home race.”

The questions went on for a few more minutes, before they were done for the day.

As they were leaving the room, Max placed his hand on Cecilia's back leading her out, the duo forgot they’re in public for a second as they walked close together, before a pair or arms wrapped around them both.

“We’re in public.” Daniel told the two just loud enough for them to hear him, but had a big smile on his face. The place is littered with cameras and phones. 

“I really hate the public right now.” Cecilia huffed, crossing her arms, she did not look happy.

“It comes with the job.” Max reminded her.

“Doesn’t make it alright.” Cecilia countered back.

 “True.” Daniel agreed with her, being so under the public eye 24/7 for doing what you love isn’t so pleasant to say the least. “Come on, we’re eating at RedBull today.”

Was this Daniel’s way of making the couple be able to eat together? Yes. did they acknowledge this? No. but they were thankful nonetheless. They will be spending the night together so there’s always that. 

While the couple were still a secret from the public, so many pictures of them eating with one or two other drivers popped up on the internet, they’d always be sitting next to each other, but the fans from that angle never put two and two together, besides Cecilia has been shipped with all the drivers, the major ship the fans have is with Charles probably, but the fans also loved her friendship with Lando, her and Max aren’t on the top of the list, which meant they were doing a good job of hiding their relationship.

Next->

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader , @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 .

[tmntkiseki]

New original character just dropped, fellas.

Her name is Cecilia Ascari, and her story is... pretty specific to my 2003 universe? Basically put, at some point after Turtles Forever, Karai starts to behave oddly and seems to have new goals, ones that she is deliberately keeping Chaplin in the dark about. Chaplin ends up stealing a whole bunch of heavily encrypted data he discovered hidden within the Foot's mainframe and Cecilia here, who was originally a low-ranked genin, agrees to serve as the scapegoat so he can continue monitoring things from within the Foot. She delivers the data to the Turtles and ultimately ends up fighting alongside them against enemies old and new.

Cecilia can be easily described as a wallflower--very shy, quiet, and tends to be awkward around strangers. However, she was one of the most ferocious Foot Ninja among those in her rank and her face is said to look like a demon in battle, scaring both friend and foe alike. Concerning, however, is her view of her life; she sees herself as little more than a weapon to be pointed at whoever her master wishes to and that her life is completely and utterly expendable, often resulting reckless actions in combat. Not only that, but she has spent so much of her life focused on training with her naginata that, outside a hobby of making jewelry and accessories, she has little that she enjoys and is clearly depressed because of it. Thankfully, though, her time spent with the turtles results in her placing more value in herself as a person and finding things that she genuinely enjoys, giving her a new will to live and a resulting in a gentler, quietly cheerful personality taking root.

Other bits of trivia

Named for Eliza Cecilia Beaux.

Birthday is July 29th (she's around the same age as the turtles.)

Short for her age, only standing at 5'1" (Unlike my other OC, Iseult, this is a sore spot for her.)

Of Italian descent.

Favorite color is green

Favorite foods include pastries, Japanese sweets, and hot chocolate

Besides jewelry-making, she later picks up pottery, soap making, and writing as hobbies.

Preferred music genres are New Age, Jass, and Lo-Fi

Closest bond among the turtles is with Leonardo, who she spars with regularly and tends to confide in. Michelangelo, who helped her discover some of her hobbies, is a close second. She also gets along well with Venus and Primavera as well, with her least developed relationships being those with Raphael and Donatello.

Not sure if this counts as a spoiler since she is an OC, but she does end up becoming a turtle later on. Won't explain the how, why, or circumstances surrounding it.

[sakkiichi]

FROM ME TO YOU.

Because good things take time and it’s not too late for happy birthdays.

ft. Albedo x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, birthday special, reader is an amateur painter.

this is just something spontaneous that I came up with… I just… kinda gave free reign to whatever flashed through my mind once I was before the blank document, parting from a very vague idea I had haha.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Autumn’s cold always arrived early in Dragonspine.

The faraway rays of a molten copper halo fuse with the peaks outlined on the horizon.

Magic is the word you’d use to describe such scenery; seconds that seemed to both be suspended in the helpless passage of time, and slip between your fingers; like golden sand inside an hourglass too small to savor every snapshot brought by the incandescence of crepuscular skies.

On instances like this, you wished your painting skills were better; if only to capture the glow of early dreams threaded through the asters of twilight.

For now, however, this will have to do.

Why did you wait until so late for this, you are unsure.

True, wishing a happy birthday to someone as the clock strikes twelve is not an uncommon occurrence.

And you’re kind of doing just that, more or less.

Except…

Well, it’s usually when the special day starts that calls are made, starlit whispers are uttered between lovers, and secret kisses are exchanged.

So you can’t help but wonder… is it too late?

For this? Or to back out now?

A sigh escapes your chapped lips, into the dimness of dusk, the stillness of frozen peaks, the stars.

Stars.

Your gaze is drawn to the easel you’ve set before you, fingertips delicately trailing over the four-point asteroids decorating a heaven made of brushstrokes.

Gold pinpricks, almost aglow beneath the darkening penombre of sundown, over a backdrop of ultramarines and indigoes, akin to sunlight over the depth of a frozen sea; a mirror image of the sky now hovering over snowy plains.

Looking up, you find a firmament of constellations. Stories, sketched in the silver flames of light years away suns, above an infinity of obscurity.

Those tales, however, had a tendency for lighting up paths that fell victim to the constant fluttering snowflakes.

“Hello, dearest.” A voice, smooth, liquid dawnlight over dewed cecilia petals, greets. “Am I late?”

The sound of crunching snow fills the fire-lit silence, the torches from his camp casting him in tepid hues.

“Albedo!” You call him, turning around.

And when you do, you swear he alone outshines every galaxy you could ever dream of rendering on canvas.

Tendrils of midnight sun and honeycomb seem to meld together in the blonde locks framing the alchemist’s porcelain-like face. Spotless, argent light from distant stars kisses his skin, fading into flecks of sparkling acacia blossoms to halo his gaze.

Summer skies.

That’s the image his eyes always evoked: clear skies, endlessly blue, over meadows to lie on, the low grass soft beneath your forms, as hands entwined and fingers pointed above, determining the shapes of the occasional cottony clouds.

What a paradox, how someone who spent his days surrounded by ice could make sparks ignite in your heart, cheeks heating up like the embers that remained after the coziness of a homey hearth.

“Is there anything you needed my help with, love?” He asks, gloved hand running its thumb over the back of yours.

Your gaze flits from your intertwined hands to his smiling lips, taking in his features in full.

“Not exactly your help.” You offer, your own lips a moon shaped brushstroke of vermillion. “I just… would like you to see something.” Your hand squeezes his, as you swing your linked hands between the both of you. “It’s your special day today, after all, isn’t it?”

Your rhetoric is met by the alchemist’s windened gaze, followed by one of his subtle smiles.

Tugging him along, you guide him to the candle lit spot where your easel is propped up.

Why are you feeling nervous all of a sudden? You internally chide yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

Relaxing your shoulders, you turn to face your lover, gaze averted when you mumble:

“It’s not much but…” You scuff one of your boots on the dirtied snow. “I just… I remembered your painting, ‘You and I’ and… well… you know… I…” Your lids close, your nose scrunched up in that way he always found utterly endearing. “I wanted to make a painting for you too!” You finally sputter, stepping aside so he can see your masterpiece.

From that moment on, Albedo would forever believe no starry night could ever come close to capture the sheer magic of your art.

Gilded speckles abound in your make-believe heavens, each of them a shade slightly different than the previous one. They rest against a backdrop of cyans, accentuated in baby blue around your handmade constellations, the piece’s finale, a violet horizon. Outlined against it, two figures seem to dance, their happy ending created by them, rather than foretold by the celestial bodies staring in envy at a proximity that doesn’t burn, but warms and completes.

“I know it’s not the best but-“

“It’s perfect.” Is the kreideprinz’s awestruck answer, as his svelte hands hover over the frame. “You’re perfect, [Y/n].” He blurts, still staring at your work.

Then, he meets your eyes again. Your face is in his tender hold, a fleeting frosted kiss landing on your lips.

“I love it.” He assures. ‘I love you.’ His dilated pupils confess.

“‘From me to you’. Its title.” Your hand reaches up, resting on top of his. “You know… I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about today… I just… kinda wanted this to be your last memory of your day.”

With that, both your gazes fuse in a watercolor of each other’s lips, of the anticipation of feeling them against your own.

“Happy birthday, Bedo.” You utter, before leaning in.

And then, the night, the snow, the starshine, all fade away, in a myriad of rose colored frenzied blazes. Your hands lost in the ash blonde strands at his nape; his, pulling you closer by the waist. Your kiss is a nebula of pulsating light, undimmed by even the most ruthless blizzards, lighting up the ebony of the pines obscuring the moonlight. Frozen air is exhausted in your lungs, but you don’t care right now, not when you’re kissing your prince charming under the lights of an aurora that’s still hours away.

A few moments pass, with the stars orbiting marking the approach of midnight.

A snow-kissed breeze caresses both your faces when you part, causing a shiver to rake through your body.

Your prince’s arms wrap around you.

When you look at him, matching chuckles fill the night air.

Moments like this were worth waiting all day for.

[cieloclercs]

*:･ﾟ✧* ── 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫, prologue

pairing. prince!charles leclerc x princess!verstappen!oc

summary. by royal decree, the house of verstappen announces the betrothal of its youngest daughter, princess cecilia verstappen, to prince charles of house leclerc

warnings. a little bit rushed, mentions of/allusions to abuse (only once), j*s verstappen (dude needs his own warning in this fic 🥴) but not a whole lot for this chapter!

word count. 1k+

author’s note. yikes this has been sitting half finished in my drafts for so long 😭 i finally got it done today so i figured it’s time to officially begin this series :)) i’m genuinely sooo excited to write this you have no idea

00. prologue

read it on wattpad!

next ➜ chapter 1

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 tumultuous, inky black waves crashing against the cliff face, and he knows he's found his sister. It's been an hour since Princess Cecilia Verstappen left the palace. Guards are searching for her high and low, turning their shared quarters upside down. King Jos is furious (though, when is he not?) and his wife is frantic. But they don't know their daughter. Max does. He knows that at a time like this, there's only one place she'll want to be.

The announcement has come as a shock to both of them. Sure, they've always been aware of the tensions in Hasselian-Montean relations, but, they suppose, being young teenagers spending most of their days exploring the palace grounds or studying with their private tutor, they've been somewhat shielded from the true gravity of the situation. Perhaps Max could have predicted it: if he'd been paying proper attention, of course. It's him Jos is raising to become King, after all. But a betrothal, an alliance through marriage is something he's never foreseen.

Cecilia's fury still shakes the ground beneath his feet when he approaches her. She's sat as close to the cliff edge as possible (something which has always made him nervous, though she seems to marvel in watching the icy black water churn from a sheer drop of two hundred feet), with her knees drawn all the way up to her chest. Sobs wrack the young princess' body. Max feels them deep in his own heart, tugging and tearing away. He can't imagine how difficult this must be for her: to have her freedom, her choice snatched so cruelly away. It's the one thing Cecilia has fought hardest for. Now, with nothing but a few formally exchanged letters and two signatures at the bottom of a bit of old parchment, it's slipped straight through her fingers.

Max sits down beside his sister silently. He knows her well enough to realise there's no point trying to comfort her with words. She'll only throw them back in his face, scream and shout of the injustice for the entire kingdom to hear. So he sits in silence; waits for her sobs to grow quiet and her breathing to even out. All the while the ocean roars beneath them — a terrifying force to anyone else, but to them, a comfort. A familiarity.

“I won't leave." the young princess says finally, her voice wavering, yet steeled with determination, "I won't."

Max sighs. He fears, yet again, that she may have no choice in the matter. There's a second term to this contract. To strengthen the alliance, Cecilia is to spend six months of the year in Monteo with her betrothed and the rest of the royal family. It's an agreement that will be put into effect on the second day of the New Year — only two weeks from now. The Verstappen twins, for all their fourteen years of life, have never spent more than a day apart from each other. It's just been them for as long as they can remember. Now they're being forced apart, dragged away to entirely different kingdoms for the sake of this alliance. Max wishes there was something he could do to stop this from happening. But he knows his father, and King Jos has made up his mind. No force on earth can prevent the future when he dictates it.

"You have to, Lia." Max replies, his voice barely a whisper, "You know what he'll do if you refuse."

Not even she can argue against that. Her fate is sealed, as far as the next six months in Monteo are concerned. Unless...

“Then I shall make him hate me." Cecilia blurts out, even more determined now than before. Her brother's head shoots up.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

For a moment, she says nothing. Her gaze is cast out across the ocean, stopping only where the horizon ends. The waves no longer crash quite so ferociously against the cliff face. Yet her mind is a storm, and it has only one target — even if she knows, deep down, that the young Prince of Monteo is as innocent in all this as she is.

"I shan't speak to him. I shan't know him. Whatever father and King Hervé want me to travel to Monteo for, I'll do the opposite." Cecilia all but spits, her face contorted with rage. It's almost frightening. She may be fierce and headstrong, but Max knows his sister — she isn't malicious. She's kind in her heart. It makes him wonder what will happen to them both in the future; if their father's vice-like grip will turn them into hateful, vindictive, half-humans. Will he drain all the life out of them?

"Lia, please think about this." Max warns. The desperation in his voice has his sister's expression softening — but only for a moment.

"If he hates me, he won't want to marry me." she whispers. Their eyes lock, blue on blue, "I'll be free."

But at what cost? Is the question they must ask themselves. At the cost of the alliance? At peace between their kingdoms? Or even at the cost of Cecilia's life, of her childhood. King Jos is not kind to those who hinder his plans, even if they are family. The countless bruises and scars on both their bodies are testament to that. But this is far bigger than acting up at a banquet, than hiding out in the forest past curfew. This is Hasselia. Perhaps whatever scrap of childish naïveté, of love towards their father that remains has them hoping he'll be lenient towards his daughter. But after the things they've seem him do, they just can't be sure.

"Promise me you'll be careful." is all Max can say. He won't argue with his sister, not when knows it's pointless. Hoping and praying she'll heed his warning will have to be enough.

"I promise." Cecilia murmurs back.

They both know her words are empty.

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[ghxst-heart]

ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ ─ ʀʜᴇᴛᴛ ᴀʙʙᴏᴛᴛ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rhett wasn’t a religious man; he hadn’t been for a long time.  Still, he went to church with his family every Sunday and kept his eyes trained on the pulpit.  His mother thought that he was finally taking in what Pastor Simon said to heart, but only one thing could have the youngest Abbott so entranced; the preacher’s daughter that dutifully sat in the front row, every Sunday. ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 18+, MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol and hangovers, swearing, use of gendered pet names (pretty girl, angel, darling), descriptions of sexual acts in a church, brief description of male masturbation, semi-public sex, slight size kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex (p in v; wrap it before you tap it), creampie, if I missed anything, please let me know, this is my first time posting smut haha ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪɴғᴏ: Pronouns used are She/Her/Hers, AFAB!Reader, beginnings of a FWB relationship between Rhett and Reader. ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: Fem!Reader, Romantic!Reader X Rhett Abbott ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ: MINORS DNI!! My blog is strictly 18+!! Any minors or ageless/blank blogs interacting with my fics or my blog will be blocked (and, yes, I do check). I can't stop you from reading my fics, but I can stop you from accessing my fics if my boundaries aren't respected. Your media consumption is your own responsibility, just as it is mine regarding what I post. Please tread thoughtfully and carefully, and keep yourselves happy, healthy, and safe.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The air in the sanctuary was thick as Pastor Simon droned through his sermon, pacing the length of the pulpit with his bible clutched tightly in his old hands.  His voice boomed through the small space, echoing off the wood-paneled walls and resounding in Rhett’s ears as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head.  His Stetson hung low over his forehead, trying to shield his sensitive blue eyes from the blinding morning light seeping through the windows.  His hangovers were never this intense; either he had drunk too much the previous night, or Pastor Simon’s voice was so boring that it was causing him physical pain.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett felt a harsh pinch on his thigh, and he flinched, ready to snap at whoever bothered him, but he quickly realized that it was his mother silently reminding him to stay awake.  His mouth fell into a sarcastic sneer before he recovered and offered his mother a firm nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile to appease her.  Cecilia frowned, and he fought against a whiney comment, instead opting for a quiet grumble as he sat up straight in his chair.  He gave her a pointed look and removed his Stetson from his head, and she hummed in approval, pleased that he had taken her silent direction.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett hadn’t thought that his silent squabble had earned anyone’s attention, but he knew he had been caught when his eyes met the pastor’s daughter’s gaze across the room.  (Y/N) had turned her head over her shoulder, a small, amused smile on her face as she watched Cecilia scold Rhett as if he were five years old again.  Rhett readjusted in his seat, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he felt the tips of his ears begin to burn with embarrassment under her stare.  (Y/N)’s head tilted slightly as if she were asking him a question, but before he could think of an answer to a question he didn’t know, she returned her attention to the pulpit, nodding along with her father’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man kept his eyes on (Y/N) as she gathered her hair in her hands and let the strands settle over one shoulder, exposing her neck to his eyes.  Her fingertips grazed her skin, nails lightly scratching the base of her throat before she dropped her hand to her lap again.  Her chin tilted up, extending her neck and stretching her muscles before she relaxed, dropping her chin so she could read the bible resting over her knees.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The way that Rhett and (Y/N) were seated gave them direct views of one another, and Rhett could see most of her body.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles, relaxed against the seat of her chair.  Her skirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.  She mindlessly toyed with the hem, pulling it higher and higher up her leg.  Rhett thickly swallowed, letting his mind swim with sinful thoughts of marking up her legs, littering them with pretty purple bruises and love bites.  He thought of kneading the soft flesh with his calloused hands, relishing in the goosebumps he would leave behind, and how the plush fat would feel wrapped around his head, muffling his hearing so he’d only just barely hear the beautiful noises he would draw out of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was thrown from his thoughts when (Y/N) suddenly readjusted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and swiveling her body, so she was sitting sideways on the chair.  He panicked, body flushing with embarrassment as his eyes flashed up to her face, finding that she was already staring at him.  He had been caught staring at her legs, his mind running rampant with fantasies.  (Y/N) grinned, her teeth chewing on her lip as she let her eyes wander over Rhett’s body before she looked at the pulpit once more, pretending as if she hadn’t exposed Rhett’s shamelessness in checking her out.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) had always been an interesting woman.  She was the epitome of a pastor’s daughter.  She attended church every Sunday, helped out in the daycare on weekdays, was active in the Women’s Group, and helped plan fundraising events for families in the congregation that needed extra funds.  She never did anything wrong, anything sinful, and always said the nicest things with a bright smile on her face.  She wore conservative clothes, nothing too tight or revealing, and her face was always cleared of heavy makeup, giving her such an innocent look with lightly coated lashes, soft rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.  But Rhett had always thought there was something more just underneath the surface.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They had grown up together, going through elementary to high school in the same classes.  While Rhett grew rebellious and ambitious to achieve fame as a bull rider, (Y/N) remained the sweet, innocent girl that was content to live her life in Wabang as the pastor’s daughter.  By graduation, they were nothing more than strangers to one another, their reputations landing them on different ends of Wabang High’s social stratosphere.  But that didn’t stop Rhett from watching her as she led the congregation in song or served food at the church’s monthly luncheon, blushing when she’d catch his eye or muttering an excuse to leave before his stomach would lurch with a delicious, yet sometimes overwhelming, fluttery feeling.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was too young and stupid to realize what his longing looks and flustered words around her meant.  He was too naive to understand that his nerves and the funny feeling in his stomach meant more than just a childhood crush.  For years, the youngest Abbott oftentimes tried to convince himself that he was just imagining the lingering stares or the suggestive brushing of her fingertips against him when she passed him.  He tried to brush it off as his darkest fantasies trying to turn polite glances and innocent touches into something more, his mind playing cruel tricks on him in place of his lonesome nights.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎But, that was before they grew up.  Now, after being in the world and experiencing real attraction, real lust, he was convinced that it was something more.  He was convinced that (Y/N) knew what she was doing and that she was purposeful in how she looked at him or placed her hand over his when handing him his food at the luncheons.  He was certain now that he wasn’t imagining things when she smirked and turned away, continuing to innocently play with her skirt and show Rhett more and more of her skin after she’d caught him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The idea went straight to his dick, and he was suddenly readjusting in his seat, sitting up straight and tightening his arms across his chest as he willed his mind to think of anything else.  He’d never hear the end of it if his brother had caught him with a hard-on during the middle of Pastor Simon’s retelling of the story of Esther.  Even with his hopes of being inconspicuous, Perry glanced over and silently chuckled, shaking his head as he grinned before returning his eyes to the front of the sanctuary.  Rhett felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he quietly cleared his throat as he tried his hardest to focus on Pastor Simon’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him, flickering toward him every few minutes to check if he was still watching her.  He was trying his hardest not to, but knowing that she wanted him to be looking at her made it difficult to think of anything else.  It was made even worse when she stood up, her hands smoothing down her sweater and skirt as she made her way to take her father’s place on the small stage, smiling warmly at the congregation in front of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett watched as (Y/N) cleared her throat, positioning herself behind the altar and opening her bible as she prepared to read the excerpt from the book of Corinthians, transitioning the service from her father’s sermon to communion.  Before she began, (Y/N) let her eyes scan the small crowd, searching for her volunteer to help her with communion.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett thought back to high school, to when she’d silently cycle through the children and teens around her, but she’d always fall back on Rhett to help.  Back then, he was convinced that she was just trying to get him to participate, trying to lead him to the Lord by the small first step of offering communion.  A part of him hoped that she’d ask him to help just so he could feel the brush of her fingertips as she handed him the chalice filled with grape juice, or the press of her shoulder against his bicep as they stood side by side and let the congregation come to them to eat their bread and drink their “wine.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Like she had been all morning, (Y/N) surprised him by calling his niece to the pulpit. “Amy, honey, can you come up ‘ere and help me with communion?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s niece jumped up from her spot at the end of the row his family sat in, bouncing with giddiness as she walked up the aisle to assist (Y/N).  She smiled brightly as she took her spot beside (Y/N), her hands folded neatly behind her back as (Y/N) pointed out the verse she wanted Amy to read, as if she didn’t already know it by heart.  Even Rhett had it memorized, but that was because he used to be the Abbott standing behind the altar every week.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man tried to pay attention to his niece so he could tell her how well she did later on after the service.  He tried to watch his niece carefully break the bread, offering it to (Y/N) so she could take communion before repeating the young woman’s actions.  However, all he could think of was the way (Y/N)’s delicate hands would feel tracing indistinct patterns over his body, her glossed lips following closely behind her hands’ trails.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) turned to the congregation once more, motioning with her hands as she called them up to take communion.  The Abbott family sat patiently, waiting until the row ahead of them had moved into the aisle to stand.  Rhett slowly stood and placed his Stetsen on his chair, trying his hardest to hide his growing problem in his jeans without drawing attention to himself.  He was successful for the most part, but he could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him as he moved to stand in the aisle.  Their eyes met, and he watched as her eyes subtly flickered toward his hips and her teeth caught her bottom lip, suppressing a grin as she blessed a congregation member while they dipped their bread in the grape juice.  Rhett felt his heart hammer in his chest, his body tingling with nerves as the knowledge that she knew the effect she had on him settled in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Before he knew it, Rhett was standing before (Y/N) in front of the altar.  His hands shook slightly as he tore a piece of bread from the plate Amy held before he turned to (Y/N).  He slowly met her eyes, his chest feeling tight as he raised his hand to dip his bread into the grape juice.  He had always thought that her eyes were pretty; they gleamed with purity and a hint of mischief that he only ever saw when he was in such close proximity to her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was so focused on her eyes that he didn’t realize that he was practically soaking the piece of bread in the grape juice until it became heavy between his fingertips.  He fought against his first instinct to curse (Cecelia had always scolded him for cursing in the Lord’s Home) and quickly pulled it toward his lips, his free hand cupping under his chin to catch any drops, but that didn’t stop a few dribbles of juice from landing on his bottom lip.  Before he could react, (Y/N) had reached up and wiped away the juice with her thumb, and Rhett would have been embarrassed by the doting action if she hadn’t brought the digit to her mouth and licked the grape juice off her skin, her lips wrapping around her thumb and her cheeks hollowing just enough that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but Rhett caught it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man’s mouth suddenly felt dryer than a desert, and his brain began to short-circuit.  (Y/N) silently giggled and blessed him, ultimately sending him on his way back to his seat with her teeth running over her bottom lip teasingly.  Rhett awkwardly cleared his throat and turned around, stiffly walking back down the aisle with his head bowed bashfully.  He kept his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look at anyone in fear that they would notice the growing bulge in his jeans.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett spent the rest of the service with his jaw locked and eyes fixed in a frustrated stare on (Y/N).  His mind was racing with images of her mouth around his fingers, her tongue trailing along his digits as she sucked on them.  It wasn’t helping his hard-on, not in the slightest, but he had a sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what she wanted.  The congregation finally began to sing the closing song, and Rhett was the first one out the sanctuary doors once Pastor Simon sent them off with a blessing, making a beeline to the restrooms.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The moment the bathroom door was shut, he was unbuckling his jeans and pulling out his dick with a groan, back collapsed against the wall, and his hand furiously working to relieve his pent-up frustration.  It wasn’t hard to get himself over the edge after nearly an hour of teasing, but a part of him still felt like an inexperienced teenager getting himself off for the first time.  He came with a muffled grunt, his free hand bunched into a tight fist between his teeth.  Rhett slumped against the wall, his head leaned back as his chest heaved, the poor Abbott man struggling to catch his breath.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit,” Rhett cursed, pushing off the wall and reaching out to grab paper towels to clean himself up.  After he tucked himself back into his jeans and washed his hands, he took a moment to clear his head, his hands braced on the sink basin as his head hung low.  He slowly looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, a flash of shame washing over him, but it was quickly replaced with panic when he heard (Y/N)'s voice.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, I think I saw him head to the restroom, Mrs. Abbott.  He looked a little pale, though.  I hope he’s not gettin’ sick.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her voice was soft and sweet, like the taste of Cecelia’s sweet iced tea on a hot summer day.  Rhett thickly swallowed, his eyes locked on the door as he tried to remember whether he locked it or not.  A quick glance at the handle told him that, no, he hadn’t; he had been too focused on (Y/N), her legs, her lips, her tongue.  Rhett quietly groaned, his head falling back on his shoulders as his hands ran down his face.  Thank God no one walked in before he was finished.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎He knew his mother wouldn’t divulge to the pastor’s daughter that he was probably hungover, and he had never been so thankful for his mother’s need to keep appearances around the congregation before.  He just hoped that that was all she assumed was wrong with him.  He was proven right when he heard his mother respond to the sweet girl that has been subtly teasing her son for the better part of an hour.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Thank you, dear.  Let ‘im know we’re gon’ be out in the parkin’ lot when he comes out, will ya?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a relieved breath as his head fell once more, before he shook his hair from his eyes and pushed himself up from the sink.  He looked over his reflection, letting out a long breath through his nose as he willed the flush of color to disappear from his cheeks and neck.  He took a few minutes to ensure that all the churchgoers had filed out of the church before forcing himself to exit the bathroom.  He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans before tucking them into his pockets, pushing his way out the front doors to join his family when he was met with the harsh late-morning sunlight and dry Wyoming heat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, it’s bright out here,” Rhett mumbled when he reached his family.  They were hanging around the bed of his and Royal’s trucks, his father entertaining Amy’s constant questions about Pastor Simon’s sermon while Perry and Rebecca were lost in each other, still just as in love with each other as the day they met.  Cecelia, however, stood with her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face as she watched her youngest make his way to them.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia was quiet as she scolded Rhett, making sure that the rest of their family was preoccupied before she began to lay into him. “Now, I’m happy that you’re comin’ t’church with us again, but you can’t bust outta there like a bull the moment the service is over, Rhett.  It’s rude; not only to Pastor Simon, but to God, too.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grumbled, his light eyes squinting and pulling his face into a slight scowl as he looked at his mother, “I know.  ‘M sorry, Ma.  Won’t happen again.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Damn right, it won’t.” Cecelia affirmed, firmly nodding her head as she turned her attention to the rest of the Abbott family. “Alright, everyone in the trucks.  I‘m sure we wasted ‘nough time gettin’ to the diner.  Only table open’ll be right near the kitchen.  Let’s go.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shotgun!” Amy quickly shouted, leaping down from the tailgate and running around to the front of Rhett’s truck.  She anxiously yanked on the handle as Rhett pulled his keys from his pocket.  She began to whine, her head lolling on her shoulders as she began to pester her uncle, “Uncle Rhett!  Open the door!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, shaking his head as he fumbled with the keys.  He reached up to adjust his hat, but his hand was met with his slightly greasy hair instead of his worn Stetson. “Dammit.  Amy, go ahead an’ hop in with grandma and grandpa, I left my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“But I wanna ride with you!” Amy sadly said, dragging out the last syllable in an attempt to get Rhett to forget his hat and drive her to the diner.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I know ya do, sweetcheeks.  But Uncle Rhett ain’t Uncle Rhett without his hat, is he?” Rhett hummed and stepped up to his niece, placing his large hands on her small face and pinching her cheeks in an attempt to get her to smile.  When he got a sheepish giggle from her, he grinned and stood up straight, softly pushing her in the direction of his mother. “Go on to the diner, I’ll catch up in a few.  Forgot my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t push the issue any further. “Alright.  Amy, hon, c’mon now.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to walk back to the church, suddenly realizing how empty the parking lot was.  After his father pulled out of the lot, only his truck and (Y/N)'s old Dodge were left, three spots separating them.  Even Pastor Simon and his wife had left.  A rush of anxiety ran down his spine, but there was a spot of confidence growing with the idea that he and (Y/N) would be alone in the church.  He couldn’t act on her taunting with the entire congregation surrounding them, but maybe now he could.  Even if he can’t do anything physically, the least they could do would be to talk about it, set some boundaries if they were to really begin what they both wanted.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The church door quietly slammed shut behind him, effectively closing him and (Y/N) off from the rest of the town.  Rhett couldn’t remember the last time they had truly been alone together.  Maybe that time in high school when she had to tutor him in English?  Thinking back on it, Rhett realized that she had been playing this game with him since way back then; her foot would knock against his leg under the table, slowly dragging up his calf until she reached the top of his boot before she retreated, offering him a sly glance and reciting the question she had asked him when he gave her an awestruck look.  A quiet scoff fell from Rhett’s lips; he had been so oblivious for so long.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Not headed to the diner yet, Rhett?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s head snapped up from the old carpeting in the lobby, finding the angelic vision that was (Y/N).  She stood outside her father’s office, holding a handful of bibles in her arms that pressed against her chest and made her breasts push just that much further out of the low neckline of her sweater.  Rhett thickly swallowed, forcing his eyes to find hers, but that didn’t help much, either.  Her eyes were wide, almost doe-like, as if she had been asking him about something as mundane as the weather.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, ma’am.” Rhett shyly said, the tips of his ears tinted pink when he saw the small smile on (Y/N)’s face when he called her ‘ma’am.’  He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I, uh, I forgot my hat; thought I left it in the sanctuary.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, her eyes quickly scanning the small lobby before landing on the open sanctuary doors.  Sure enough, Rhett’s Stetson sat on the seat he claimed every Sunday.  (Y/N) quietly chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she slyly glanced toward Rhett. “An’ here I thought ya just wanted an excuse to come an’ talk t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her tone was low and suggestive, sending blood straight to his dick as she ran her tongue over her lip before sinking her teeth into it and tilting her head in the most innocent way.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Do I need an excuse to come an’ talk t’ya?” Rhett rasped, his voice sounding gravelly as it caught in his throat.  However, even with the nerves slowly working their way down his spine, he managed to notice the way that (Y/N) shifted her weight, moving one foot closer to the other as her knees knocked together, almost as if she were trying to subtly relieve tension.  All of his nerves disappeared, and Rhett was filled with a sense of confidence that inflated his ego just enough for him to know that he had the same effect on her that she did him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, shaking her head as Rhett watched her teeth nibble the inside of her cheek as if she were hiding a sly grin.  She pointed a finger over her shoulder toward the sanctuary doors across the hall, “Your hat’s in the sanctuary if ya wanted to grab it.  Though, I’m not sure I want ya to have it back; I’ve been looking for a new Stetson to wear to the rodeos.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett knew this was his chance to get (Y/N) alone in a room that had a lock on the door.  And, if he was reading her signs correctly, that was what she wanted, too.  So, mustering up as much confidence as he could, he tried to sound as inconspicuously seductive as possible as he stepped closer to her and asked, “If ya wanted t’wear my hat to my rides, all ya had to do was ask, angel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I suppose this is me askin’, then.” It was as if all his prayers had been answered when he saw her pupils dilate and her breath catch in her throat as she nodded once more.  This time, after a short, collective breath, she let that troublemaking smirk settle on her glossed lips as she held a hand out for him to take, “Want me to model it for ya, then?  Make sure it looks alright?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So long as you know what happens when you wear a cowboy’s hat, darlin’.” Rhett smoothly said.  He surprised himself with his response, but he didn’t let himself show it.  (Y/N) grinned, a quiet giggle slipping past her lips as she wiggled the fingers of her outstretched hand, urging him to take it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I do,” she easily said, and that was all it took.  Rhett slipped his calloused hand into hers, and his first thought was how small her hand was compared to his.  When she threaded her fingers into the spaces between his, the contrast of his rough fingertips against the soft skin of her hand immediately replaced that thought, and it was quickly followed by the idea of how her small, soft hands would feel wrapped around his cock.  His jeans tightened around his hips as she led him to the sanctuary, his body beginning to buzz with adrenaline as the realization that this was finally happening settled in his mind.  He felt like he was about to perform in a rodeo, that familiar twinge of nerves and self-assurance making his heartbeat echo in his ears.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The sanctuary doors were hardly shut before Rhett had his lips on (Y/N)'s and his hands on her hips, pushing her against the doors with a deep groan.  The bibles in her hands tumbled to the floor as her small hands wove into his hair, pulling him closer to her with every passing second.  Her lips were soft and warm, yet sticky from her lip gloss.  She tasted like strawberries and remnants of the grape juice from communion, an intoxicating combination that Rhett couldn’t get enough of.  Rhett groaned into her mouth, a smirk toying on the corners of his lips when she roughly pulled on his hair.  It stung, but the feel of her mouth on his and her back arching against his body made the sensation feel deliciously blissful.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎It was as if his hands had a mind of their own, wandering across any part of her body he could touch.  They splayed across her back, tugging her closer before they slid around her waist and began to inch upwards under her sweater, itching to feel the weight of her breasts in his palms.  His fingertips traced the underwire of her bra, the satin fabric cool to the touch and a stark contrast from her quickly warming skin.  Rhett could feel that wherever he touched her, a trail of goosebumps followed his hands and her body flooded with warmth.  It was mesmerizing, fueling his need to touch every part of her as he kissed her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to nibble on her bottom lip and (Y/N) opened her mouth to him, exhaling deeply through her nose, almost as if she were trying to keep quiet, but her efforts were hardly concealed when a quiet whine floated past her lips as his tongue grazed hers.  He breathlessly chuckled, pulling away slightly and tightening his grip on her waist as he said, “C’mon, angel.  Don’t hide those sounds from me.  Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎His words pulled a breathy moan from her lips, telling Rhett exactly what effect he had on her before she had the chance to vocally do so.  Rhett began to trail wet kisses across her jaw, gently nipping at the skin just below the bone before he soothed it with a slow swipe of his tongue, making sure not to leave any marks.  (Y/N) sighed, her head falling back against the sanctuary doors as her hands began to explore the expanse of his clothed chest, fingernails catching on the fabric of his flannel, “I knew you were lookin’ at me this mornin’.  Knew you wanted me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’ve been wantin’ t’have you like this since high school, darlin’.” Rhett admitted, his voice breathless against her skin.  The taste of her strawberry lip gloss was beginning to get lost with the salty taste of perspiration on her skin as the dry Wyoming air clung to their bodies, warming them up in the stuffy sanctuary.  Rhett mouthed his way back up to her lips, the tip of his nose nudging hers as he cheekily said, “Think you have, too, hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s pretty eyes fluttered open slightly, pupils blown and mascara beginning to dot along the skin under her lash line.  She gave him a grin, her chin jutting out so her lips brushed against his with every word she spoke. “Y’have no idea, Rhett.  No idea.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett wasn’t sure who moved first, the feeling of her tongue moving against his as their mouths worked on one another drowning out anything else in his head.  He slotted his thigh between her legs, a deep groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he felt her arousal begin to seep into the denim of his jeans.  His calloused hands wandered further down her body, along the smooth skin of her legs that hadn’t left his mind since he’d caught a glimpse earlier that morning, before they slipped under the hem of her skirt and bunched it around her waist so he could easily guide her hips along his thigh.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) pulled her lips from his with a whine, grinding her hips down onto him as her nimble fingers began to make quick work of the buttons on his flannel, expertly unbuttoning it before untucking it from his jeans and pushing it aside so her hands could feel the smooth muscles of his chest.  Rhett had never been so glad to forgo an undershirt in his life; if he had to wait to have her hands on his skin any longer, he would have combusted.  He could feel his cock hardening in his jeans again when her hands traveled lower, her fingertips brushing along the flexing muscles of his stomach as her lips attached to his peck, right over his bull rider tattoo.  He sucked in a sharp breath when her teeth dragged up his neck and grazed his pulse point before dragging down to the base of his throat just above his clavicle.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett cursed, leaning his head to the side to give her more access to his throat.  She giggled against his skin, her nails raking down his torso again as she sank her teeth into his skin before soothing the mark with her warm tongue.  Rhett bit his lip as he shakily exhaled, pulling his body back as one hand trailed up her body to cup her jaw, holding her face in place so he could kiss her again.  Everything about her was addictive, from the taste of her lip gloss to the way her wet, clothed cunt dragged along his jeans.  Rhett was sure that he had died and gone to Heaven when her fingers hooked into his belt loops and pulled his hips flush against hers, her mouth against his muffling the grunt forcing itself from his lips when his dick pressed against her hip bone.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Rhett,” (Y/N) panted, their hot breaths mingling in the sparse distance between their mouths, “I need you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Where d’you need me, pretty girl?” Rhett whispered, thickly swallowing as he attempted to catch his breath.  His fingertips began to gently play with the band of her panties, the satin fabric smooth against his rough hands slightly as he toyed with her.  He let an accomplished smile tug at his lips when she bucked her hips toward him, chasing the brief feeling of his hands when he pulled away.  Rhett traced a soft line down the front of her core, relishing in the choked hum of approval that left her lips. “Do you need me here?  Hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Yes,” (Y/N) sighed, hands bunching into the fabric of his open flannel to keep his body on hers.  She licked her lips and swallowed, a relieved smile covering her lips, “Yes, please.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, but it was cut off with a proud groan when he felt just how soaked she was.  She was practically dripping, and he was the cause of it.  He hooked a finger around the satin, pushing it to the side to swipe his fingers through her folds, collecting her arousal and spreading it across his fingertips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, shit,” (Y/N) gasped, her forehead falling forward on his shoulder as she braced her hands on his torso.  She hummed as Rhett gently circled her clit, biting her lips as her body jolted with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Angel, I’ve barely touched you,” Rhett teased, but his voice was the furthest thing from jovial.  His voice was deep, laced with lust and barely above a whisper.  A part of him was hardly able to believe that this was happening, but when he felt her body shudder against his as he pressed two fingers against her clit, he knew that this was real.  He didn’t just feel like his prayers had been answered; he knew they had been.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, pulling her head back and snaking her hands up his torso to grab onto the curls of hair at the nape of his neck.  Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed and lips kiss-bitten as she leveled her doe-like eyes with his.  She was completely at his mercy. “More, please.  I need more of you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Without warning, Rhett dipped his fingers to her entrance and slowly pushed his ring and middle fingers in, cursing when he felt her warm walls instinctively clench around his digits.  (Y/N) moaned, her body falling lax against the doors as her hands scrambled to find purchase in his hair.  Rhett began to pump his fingers, his free hand holding up his weight against the door by her head.  He kept reaching for that special spot inside of her, curling his fingers to find the spot that would make her legs shake and her chest heave with labored breaths.  He knew he’d found it when he felt that spongy part against his calloused fingertips, and she surged forward and attached her lips to his, whimpering when he picked up the pace of his fingers.  Her mouth opened in a silent moan, and Rhett took advantage of her parted lips to lick into her mouth, swallowing every small whine and whimper that left her sweet lips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, you look so pretty, all needy f’me,” Rhett grunted, feeling her wetness begin to drip down his knuckles into the palm of his hand.  His dick twitched in his jeans, desperately aching for attention, but he was easily able to put aside his needs when he heard the melodic sound of her breath catching in her throat as a strangled moan at his praise.  He cupped his hand around her, pushing the heel of his palm against her clit as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.  Her hips began to grind against his hand, chasing her high with determined circles.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, Rhett, please,” (Y/N) began to ramble, her chest heaving as he pushed her closer to the edge.  She tightened her hold on his hair, pulling his face closer as she looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading with him. “Don’t stop, please.  I’m so, so close.  Please, Rhett.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A dark chuckle left his throat as he ducked his head and placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin just below her ear.  He smirked at the high-pitched noise she made when he began scissoring his fingers inside her, teeth pulling at her earlobe before he whispered, “Let go, angel.  Give it t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) came with a shrill cry, her body collapsing against his as she weakly clung to him.  Rhett moaned when he felt her legs attempt to snap shut around his thigh and hand, her cum slowly seeping from her cunt and making a mess all over his fingers and jeans.  His cock pushed against the constraints of his jeans when he looked down to see his hand glistening with her arousal, and his chest swelled when he thought of the fact that he made her cum with nothing but his fingers.  He continued to slowly pump his fingers in and out of her, carrying her through her orgasm until her body stopped shaking.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s hands bunched into the fabric of his open flannel, grounding herself until she found her bearings again.  Rhett gently pulled his hand away from her, holding it up to watch her slick shine in the dim sunlight filtering through the sanctuary windows.  He was suddenly filled with the need to taste her, so he brought his fingers to his lips and began to lick his fingers.  He moaned, swearing that he had never tasted anything so sweet in his life.  She tasted better than any freshly baked apple pie or hand-churned ice cream he’d ever had.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So sweet, angel,” Rhett hummed, savoring the taste of her with his eyes half-closed before they widened.  (Y/N) had taken a hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from his lips to hers and slowly sucked his fingers into her mouth, a purring sound leaving her throat as her tongue swirled around his digits.  Rhett’s jaw slacked, his eyes darkening as he watched her clean her mess off his fingers.  He reached his other hand down to palm himself over his jeans, shaking his head in amazement when she pulled her mouth off his fingers with a faint pop. “Jesus Christ, darlin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled, still sounding breathless as she began to push him toward the back row of chairs in the sanctuary, her hands firm on his shoulders.  She directed him to a chair and gently sat him down, kneeling in front of him and running her hands slowly up his thighs. “My turn, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could hardly breathe as her dainty hands trailed up his thighs toward his belt buckle, his hands flexing and unflexing around the edge of the chair, unsure what to do with them.  (Y/N) hummed, taking one hand off his leg to take hold of his, silently directing him to hold her jaw before she resumed her quest of unbuckling that large buckle around his hips.  Rhett had been hard as a rock nearly the whole morning, but he felt as if he was growing harder as he watched the sight in front of him, his dick throbbing beneath the feather-light pressure of her forearm over it as she slid the leather belt out of the clasp.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett hissed, watching with lust-blown eyes as she unzipped his jeans, her movements so painfully slow just to tease him.  Although he complied and lifted his hips when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxers, he couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance that rippled through his body as he watched her take her sweet time.  The young Abbott man let his hand slide from her jaw to her chin, holding it firmly between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled her gaze to his eyes.  His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his cheek fluttering with aroused frustration as he sharply said, “I didn’t tease you, now did I?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bit her lip, shaking her head before laying it on the top of his thigh, just out of reach from where he wanted her to touch him the most.  She lazily traced a finger up and down the outline of his cock tenting his boxers, which was pulsing now that the tight denim had been removed.  His hips involuntarily bucked up, his body betraying the slight dominating bite in his tone, which only brought a sly grin to (Y/N)'s face.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, but if I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for as long as I have, I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.” (Y/N) sassed, her brows raising slightly as she challenged him.  All the while, her finger kept running that same trail up his clothed cock.  Her eyes never left the path of her finger, simply enamored with the idea of what Rhett hid underneath those Levi jeans.  Rhett gulped, struggling to regain some control over the situation as she began to apply more pressure to her ministrations, soon letting her wrist go limp so she could use her palm to trace his cock instead of a single finger.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if ya picked up the pace, angel,” Rhett said, his voice sounding as if it was stuck in his throat.  He watched as she licked her lips, her eyes growing wider as she met his gaze.  If he felt breathless before, that was nothing compared to the vision of (Y/N) kneeling between his legs with her palm moving agonizingly slow across his dick.  She looked ethereal, a slight halo of dim lighting surrounding her from the dust-covered windows behind her.  She looked as if she belonged there, sat dutifully before him with her doe-eyes and kiss-swollen lip tucked between her teeth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Y’know, patience is a virtue, Mr. Abbott.” (Y/N) airily said, her cheeks proudly flushing when Rhett’s chest stopped moving.  Rhett wasn’t sure where the reaction came from; he’d never imagined that being scolded and called ‘Mr. Abbott’ would send his body into a frenzy, sparking a need deep within his soul to shove his dick down her throat.  He needed her to wrap her perfectly pouted lips around his cock, and he needed her to do it now.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett tightened his grip on her chin, pulling her face off his thigh before bunching his other hand in her hair to pull her face closer to his as he sat up.  His face hardened as he looked her over, eyes narrowing as his voice deepened, a dominating side overtaking any faint nerves he might have still had. “Y’better put that mouth to use before I do it for you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A grin spread across (Y/N)'s face and she leaned up to press a searing kiss to his lips.  It was all tongue and teeth, but Rhett hardly had time to register that he could still gather the faint taste of her cum on her lips before she suddenly reached a hand into his boxers and wrapped her small hand around him.  An almost animalistic growl left his lips as his jaw slacked, his breath shaky when she gently swiped her thumb over his tip and collected the precum leaking from the slit.  Rhett had never been overly vocal, but he couldn’t help the way he moaned when (Y/N) pulled away from his lips and placed a delicate kiss to his tip over his boxers.  It was just a taste of what was to come, and he was already beginning to fall apart.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) let that soft giggle of hers trickle from her lips, thoroughly amused by the young Abbott man’s reaction, before she swiftly pulled his boxers down enough to free his cock, letting it fall against his toned stomach.  Rhett opened his mouth to tell her to use hers, but a strangled groan replaced any words he was about to say when she leaned forward and licked a slow, hot stripe up his shaft, her eyes never leaving his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s back collapsed against the chair, a shudder washing over his body when she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, her tongue teasing his slit and a hum of appreciation sounding from the back of her throat.  Rhett’s hold in her hair tightened, the veins in his forearm beginning to protrude slightly as he let his body take over, bucking his hips and pushing himself further into her warm mouth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“There ya go, darlin’.” Rhett mumbled, his head falling back as a deep breath left his lips.  (Y/N) slowly dipped her head, taking more of him in her mouth as she hummed, the vibrations in her throat adding to Rhett’s pleasure.  Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly pumping what she couldn’t fit into her mouth as she began to bob her head.  The combination of her warm mouth and the sounds of appreciation she was quietly making was enough to make Rhett’s head spin.  He swore he had never felt anything so good in his life, finally having the girl he’s pined after for years with her lips around his dick and her lust-blown eyes glancing up at him through her lashes.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s free hand was gently running across his hip, her nails scratching his skin so lightly that Rhett hardly realized what she was doing until he let go of her jaw to take her hand in his.  He sighed, eyes rolling back when she let go of his cock and pushed her head down further until the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.  A deep rumble of a groan left his lips and his fingers laced through hers, squeezing her hand tightly in appreciation.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck, you’re good at that,” Rhett breathed, tucking his chin to his chest so he could watch her continue to take him deeper and deeper until her nose nearly brushed the patch of hair at the base of his cock.  It truly was a sight to behold; the beautiful preacher’s daughter deepthroating the wild bull rider known for sleeping around.  Rhett knew he’d never be able to forget the image of (Y/N) between his legs, and the realization that he’d have this memory to look back on the next time he was feeling lonely made his cock twitch in her mouth.  (Y/N) let out a long breath before attempting to take him further, and the feeling of her nose finally reaching his pubic bone had Rhett bucking his hips before he could stop himself.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) gagged around him, and that didn’t help the way the coil in Rhett’s stomach tightened with the need to feel her do that again, and keep her mouth stuffed full of him.  He let go of her hand and let it join his other hand in her hair, but before he could force her to cockwarm him with her throat, he was somehow able to have the thought that she might not want to.  And Rhett was a gentleman, even with lust clouding his senses.  If he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t a one-time deal, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“This okay, angel?” Rhett rasped, his voice gravelly and somewhat hoarse.  (Y/N) looked up at him, her lashes clumped together slightly and wet with unshed tears, her mascara beginning to trail down the apples of her cheeks, but that couldn’t do anything to hide the earnest look in her eyes.  She pulled off of his cock with a gasp, her head nodding eagerly as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“More than okay.” (Y/N) breathlessly said, already leaning down to take him in her mouth again.  Rhett moaned when she sunk down around him without hesitation, a deep exhale through her nose tickling his pubic hair as she hummed around him again.  Her hands rested on his hips, fingers flexing as she focused on her breathing.  Rhett was utterly entranced as he watched her, so eager to please him and bring him his release right there in the church sanctuary.  His stomach began to churn, his breathing becoming uneven and ragged as he shakily exhaled.  She slowly pulled her mouth up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip before dipping down once more, not stopping until she was completely full of him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel his orgasm was fast approaching as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting and tightening around him before she pulled up and suckled his tip, her tongue running along the slit as she lazily pumped him with one hand so she could catch her breath.  The coil in Rhett’s stomach began to subside, but that allowed his head to clear enough to realize that if he was going to cum, it wasn’t going to be in her mouth.  That was going to be an image he could capture at another time, but right now, all he wanted was to have the picture of her riding him wearing his Stetson ingrained in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett heaved a long breath, his chest deflating slightly as he slid a hand around her chin again.  With a mumbled, ‘Come ‘ere, angel,’ he brought her lips to his, kissing her sweetly before he found that dominating side from moments ago. “You gon’ model that hat f’me or what, honey?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s eyes lit up as she giggled, nodding her head and reaching over to grab his Stetson from the seat beside him.  She kept her eyes on his as she situated it on her head, adjusting it so it hung low over her eyes the way he had it that morning.  Her head tilted back, gaze meeting his through hooded eyes as she teasingly turned her face from side to side to show it off.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“What d’ya think, Rhett?” (Y/N) teased, leaning down to kitten-lick the tip of his cock, quiet moans leaving her lips as she gathered the leaking precum on her tongue.  All Rhett could do was groan, his dick throbbing against his stomach as he looked her over with hungry eyes.  He had never seen a more perfect sight, not even the Tetons at sunset could compete with her wearing his hat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett clicked his tongue and smirked, his fingers tightening around her chin slightly as he breathlessly said, “You’re gon’ make me an even bigger goddamn sinner, sweetheart.  You look so fuckin’ perfect wearing my hat with my dick in your mouth.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giddily hummed, wrapping her lips around his tip once more and dipping her head until the rim of the hat hit Rhett’s abs.  She pulled off him again with a soft pop, sitting back on her heels as she hummed contentedly.  She grinned up at him, eyes playful as she asked, “Now, isn’t there somethin’ I’m supposed to do if I’m wearin’ a cowboy’s hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, simultaneously amused and aroused by her seemingly innocent question.  He nodded, leaning forward as his hands slipped to her biceps to pull her up on her knees again. “Get up here in my lap, pretty girl.  Time to show ya somethin’ ‘bout ridin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) wasted no time in standing to her feet, teasingly trailing her fingertips up her thighs until they breached the hem of her skirt and tucked into the band of her ruined satin panties before she swiftly pulled them down her legs and stepped out of them.  She smirked as she leaned forward and tucked the panties into his front pocket before straddling his thighs.  Rhett’s hands immediately found her hips, pushing her skirt up so he could feel her hot skin against his rough hands and direct her dripping core to drag over his cock.  They both moaned at the feeling, (Y/N)'s head lolling on her shoulders as her hands gripped his shoulders.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Please, Rhett,” (Y/N) whined, her teasing nature long gone as she began to grind along the length of his cock.  She gasped when the tip bumped her clit, her eyes fluttering shut as her fingers flexed in pleasure.  She licked her lips, that intoxicating strawberry lipstick long gone as she reached a shaky hand up to hold his hat on her head. “Rhett, please, fuck me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett had imagined her begging for his cock so many times, but nothing could have prepared him for the feral feeling that would spread like wildfire through his chest when she finally did.  It was pure instinct as one of his hands left her hips and grasped the base of his cock, the other holding her firmly in place as he aligned himself with her entrance.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s eyes flickered up to her face to watch her as he eased her down onto his length, his jaw slacking at the sight.  Her lips parted, eyes screwed shut, and cheeks flushed as a breathy moan left her lips.  His hat was slightly askew on her head, casting a shadow over half of her face as her chest heaved with panted breaths.  Rhett swore he could have cum right then, the feeling of her tight walls slowly encapsulating him and hugging every inch perfectly as she whimpered above him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Jesus, angel,” Rhett sighed, his hands tightening on her hips as she lowered herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  He could feel that sweet spongy spot against his tip, every breath she took, and every noise she made making her walls flutter around him in a way that made him wonder why he’d never acted on his desires sooner.  He’d been missing out on all of this for years, but there was no way he was going to anymore.  She hadn’t even begun to ride him and he was already so far gone for her he knew she’d ruined any other woman for him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, her chest dropping forward so she could press and hungry kiss to his lips as she began to raise her hips.  Her movements were agonizingly slow, every shift of her muscles calculated to bring the both of them the most pleasure possible.  Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she sunk down on him again, faster than the first time, before repeating her actions.  Each time she lowered her hips against his, her pace grew faster and harder, a steady stream of skin slapping skin filling the sanctuary.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a string of curses as she began to circle her hips every time she sunk down on him, a hand flying up to the back of her neck to keep her lips on his as his hips began to buck up into her.  He met every bounce, every roll of her hips in perfect synchronicity; it was as if they had been fucking one another for years and knew exactly how to bring each other to the brink without a second thought.  Every lovesick idea that Rhett had that they were perfect for one another was confirmed as their bodies moved, chasing their highs as their stomachs churned with desire.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bunched the fabric of his flannel in her hands, supporting her weight on his chest as she bounced on his cock, keeping each one small so he hardly left her cunt at all but still hit her g-spot with every thrust.  Rhett felt her walls clench around him as she whimpered, “I’m so, so close, Rhett.  Oh, my god.  Fuck!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grunted in concentration as one hand slid from her hip to the front of her body, his fingers splayed across her stomach as his thumb began to circle her clit.  He could feel his cock pushing against her stomach with every thrust, sending his body and mind into a frenzy as he sped up the speed of his thrusts.  Rhett couldn’t even form complete words, anything he wanted to say was lost in his throat as it turned into desperate moans and grunts.  His mind began to cloud with nothing but the want to make her cum, and he began to tighten the circles his thumb was making on her clit, focusing purely on the small bundle of nerves as she frantically ground her hips against his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” (Y/N)'s words were jumbled, running together as she clung to Rhett’s shoulders.  Rhett could feel his orgasm quickly approaching with each brush of his tip against her g-spot and each tug of his hair.  (Y/N)'s walls clung to him, pulsing as he finally pushed her over the cliff, sending her spiraling into a trembling orgasm that had her entire body jolting with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit, angel, I’m close.” Rhett wasn’t far behind, and although he wanted nothing more than to cum inside her and claim her as his own, he didn’t want to fuck this up.  He grunted, slowing his hips just enough to keep himself right on the edge of an orgasm to ask, “Where d’you want me, pretty girl?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Inside!” (Y/N) practically begged, finding the strength to pull her head back and meet his eyes.  Hers were wide, pleading with him to cum inside of her as she nodded her head. “Please, Rhett, please, I want it all.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎That was all it took to hurl him over the edge.  Rhett’s hips stuttered before they stilled, the coil in his stomach snapping as he came inside her, painting her warm walls with his seed as a pathetic moan tumbled past his lips.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body shook, her pussy clenching around him and milking him for everything he had.  His entire body tensed, fingers flexed so hard around her hips that he knew there’d be bruises when he let go of her.  He had never cum so hard, his orgasm taking every ounce of energy and more until the last spurt of cum.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They were both absolutely spent, lungs burning for air as they attempted to catch their breaths.  It was eerily silent in the old, stuffy sanctuary, save for their labored breaths and the nearly undetectable sound of (Y/N)'s nails running across Rhett’s chest.  Rhett was slowly becoming aware of the sticky sheen of sweat covering their bodies and the mess pooling around the base of his softening cock as their combined cum leaked from her pussy.  (Y/N) lazily kissed at Rhett’s neck, grounding herself with the action before she pushed herself up, hands braced on his pecs as she grinned at him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) playfully bit her lips, meeting his shining blue eyes as she said, “You’re not gettin’ this hat back, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett breathlessly chuckled, pushing his hair back from his face as he gazed up at her. “If I get t’fuck you like that when ya wear it, I don’ want it back.  Jesus Christ.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled and reached up to tilt the hat back as she leaned down, softly kissing his lips before she sat back up, smirking as he chased after her before his back collapsed against the chair again.  She slowly lifted herself off of him, letting her skirt drop to cover herself as she stood on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go get us somethin’ t’clean up with.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, no, I got it.” Rhett immediately said, pushing himself off the chair and scrambling to tuck himself back into his boxers.  He adjusted his jeans on his hips, but opted to leave them undone until he was cleaned up.  He smiled at (Y/N) and leaned down over her, tilting her chin up as he whispered, “Least I can do after the best sex of my life, sweetheart.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett placed a chaste kiss to her lips before he stood up straight and made his way to the altar at the other end of the room, knowing that they kept napkins in one of the tables back there.  He returned with a handful, kneeling before her and carefully wiping her legs clean of their cum with whispered apologies if she hissed from oversensitivity.  It was such a stark contrast from his fast and brutal pace that (Y/N) was wistfully sighing, watching him with adoring eyes as he wiped himself down and tossed the napkins into a bin near the sanctuary doors.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stood up and slowly walked over to Rhett, her arms circling his waist as he finished buckling his belt as she grinned up at him. “Y’know, maybe I’ll wear the hat to the rodeos this weekend.  Could be your good luck charm.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled and turned around in her arms, hands gently squeezing her waist as he hummed in approval. “Ya want everyone t’see ya wearing my hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) eagerly nodded, eyes glinting with mischief as she said, “Been lookin’ for a way outta my daddy’s house for years.  Maybe he’ll be mad enough t’kick me out if he sees me wearin’ the hat of ‘that damn Abbot boy.’”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett smiled and flicked the brim of the hat, letting it settle above her eyebrows so he could see her eyes better. “Good idea, angel.  Then I’d get ya all t’myself.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stretched up on her toes and gently pressed her lips to his, sighing contentedly as Rhett pulled her body flush against his.  Rhett knew he had gotten himself into a tricky situation by fucking the preacher’s daughter, but with her lips against his, the opinions and judgements of the residents of Wabang couldn’t have mattered any less to him.  He had an angel that could sin like the devil in his arms.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hehe the full fic is finally here! i'm super excited but also a little nervous, this is my first time posting smut online, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! the end is a little rushed, but i was just super excited to get this out for you guys, so here we are lol i have an idea in mind for a part two if anyone would be interested? let me know, love you all so so much!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @callsign-joyride, @downinroma,

If you'd like to be added to any of my taglists, click here!

[getfreeviolet]

coke zero is nectar from the gods <3

[angesaurus]

Trying to not let it bother me but it does hurt that all the daycare parents made plans to go to dinner and we were not invited. We all had a playground graduation party for the kids this afternoon and then to hear them making the plans kind of sneakily (low voices but I mean, I can hear them)….. kind of sucks? Like that feels a little shitty? Cecilia came and asked if we were going to the restaurant and I’m like ….. well we were not invited????? And she’s confused because “well all my friends are going!!!” And I’m like ????? I don’t know what to tell you.

A few weeks ago they all got together too (all parents no kids). We were the only couple not invited (thanks for showing me that Facebook lol).

[udretlnea]

The Divine City: Some Slices of Life

Part 1 \ Part 2 (here) \ Part 3 \ Part 4

"We seal our fate with the choices we take, but don't give a second thought to the chances we take"

Gloria Estefan

At precisely 7 am it spilled into the room from the window. It crawled onto the floor and up the bed until it hit the eyes of its occupant. With a soft sigh, her eyes flutter open. Then she frowns at the growing sunlight as if it had interrupted a perfect dream.

Muttering to herself, she slides out of bed without a second thought. A quick glance at the clock tells her she’s got ten minutes before the servants wake up. 

She huffs. May as well get ready. A quick snack should suffice for now. I can eat properly at lunch.

Her morning routine was simple: Wash face, change out of sleepwear and into something plain (that reminds her: she needs to do shopping), and brush her hair a dozen times.

With that out of the way, she makes for the kitchen. It is blissfully empty save for her. 

She grabs an apple before grabbing a pitcher of water and an empty cup. Breakfast is a quiet affair as she sits down in the middle of an empty table; she doesn’t bat an eye to the empty chairs on either side. Her mindless chewing fills the silence. 

As she finishes her apple, a door opens. Without turning her head, she already knows who it is.

“Lady Cecilia. You’re earlier than usual,” says a mature, refined female voice.

Cecilia nods at the statement. “I have an awful lot to do today. With Volksfest coming up, I imagine my classmates are up to something so I figured I’d give them a hand.”

She turns her head to look at the person’s expression. Said person is a tall woman with slightly dark red hair, yellow eyes, and fair skin. The maid uniform she wore went to her calves mid-way. 

The woman hums with a thoughtful expression. “I see. Will you be back in time for dinner?”

Probably, though if I’m right Rickard is going to try to get me to stay. I’ll say no of course. Is what she thinks. Instead she says, “Sure,” and gets up to clean her things. 

Cecilia walks past the maid only to pause. The teen faces “Wait, Emery, before I forget I wanted to say that-no, ask you…is there anything you need while I’m out?”

Is there anything you want me to buy for you and the others? Is what she wanted to say, but the maid already replies.

“Well, now that you mention it, we’re already expecting festivities soon so some wine, cheese, and grapes would be needed.” Cecilia nods.

Screw it. While I’m here I may as well ask. If I don’t I’ll regret it. She opens her mouth-

“As for gifts, well, nothing comes to mind. Though I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if I desired an accessory for the neck,” finishes Emery.

-and it hangs open. Cecilia looks at the redhead bemusedly. The latter’s lips curl upwards in what Cecilia perceives as amusement. 

After three seconds of stunned silence the teen finds her voice again. “I see. Is there-is there a particular item you had in mind?”

Emery smirks. “You may try the lower end of the commerce district. Look out for a place called Timeless Treasures.”

“Timeless Treasures. Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” The two said farewell to each other. As she went back to her room, Cecilia couldn’t help but think about how Emery knew what was on her mind.

That woman can be scarily perceptive at times. She shuddered as she slung a light coat over a plain green dress. I wonder if she has a super dark past she’s running from like in those light novels. 

“Now there’s a fun thought,” she muttered as she exited her room.

///////////

The skies were clear save for the single stray cloud, but with it being August temperatures were cooling down. Cecilia silently thanked Her Grace she didn’t have to walk through humid and hot air.

Depending on where you went in the commerce district, you could either find the low-quality items sold at twice their price or “one-of-a-kind” merch that was special and thus was marked at an exorbitant fee. Cecilia was familiar with this game, however, and thanks to her folks training her to haggle she was prepared to play.

Thus, thirty minutes later she had two bottles of fine vintage, several blocks of cheese, fresh grapes, and some knick-knacks. She carried them both in bags in either hand.

She had to ask around where Timeless Treasures was. Apparently it was near the southwest edge of the middle section. 

As she made her way there, Cecilia walked through the streets almost in a trance. She barely acknowledged the decorations or the festive aura around her. Her head was locked straight ahead like she was dead set on getting to her destination.

CRASH

A loud commotion drew her attention to her left. Cecilia turned her head to find a trio of students cornering another student. Inside of her, some small ugly part recognizes what’s happening. She doesn’t even need to get close enough to hear what they’re saying.

“Think you’re worthy to stand on the same ground as us?”

“I bet you don’t even know basic etiquette.”

“What’s a country rat even to do here? Shouldn’t you be picking weeds?”

To his credit, the student doesn’t flinch. “I’m middle class-”

He doesn’t get to finish when Bully 1 punches him in the gut. The air knocked out of his lungs. Bully 2 sneers. “Did we say you could speak, trash?”

They laugh mockingly and start name-calling him. From a distance, Cecilia watches this. She feels frozen to the spot and far away. It’s as if she can see herself in third-person.

A small part of her whispers in her ear. You can stop them before it gets worse.

She could. She can! Cecilia takes a step, ready to shout at these punks-

Do not.

When another voice stops her. Suddenly, it’s as if she’s seized by fear. Anxiety roils in her gut, making her hide on the side. Cecilia is holding her breath.

If you intervene, those students will remember your face. Come school they’ll gossip and in five minutes you’ll be an outcast. That’s more trouble for you and everyone back home, ignoring your parents. Just keep your head down and walk away. Cecilia clenches her fist. 

We can’t walk away from injustice! the smaller voice protests.

Your actions have consequences. Consider them carefully.

The conversation lasted for ten seconds, but it felt like an hour. Then she shuts her eyes, tilts her head down and walks away.

Cecilia put on a flat look. She was already pushing the incident to the depths of her mind to be forgotten.

///////////

Timeless Treasures was in between a cafe and a hat store. Cecilia was near-tired at this point, but she powered through. It took a long walk, but she took solace in the fact she can go back home soon.

Cecilia reached a hand out for the door, only for it to open. She watched as a farm boy walked out carrying a wrapped gift.

The teen stared at the teen as he walked away. She should’ve just ignored it and went through the door. She should’ve asked the storekeeper for a necklace. She should’ve just taken her spoils back home. 

And yet her curiosity demanded to be sated. Cecilia mentally cursed herself before following the teen.

It took her longer than she imagined thanks to the morning rush starting. She nearly lost him twice. Cecilia counted herself lucky when she spotted him breaking away to another street. From there, she saw him turn into another alley. When she rounded the corner she caught the sight of his foot before he disappeared through a hole in the wall.

Cecilia carefully made her way, stepping lightly so as not to alert him. Once close enough she examined the exit with a scrutinizing eye.

…Is this an old tunnel? I figured these would be sealed up by now. She observed. It wasn’t faring well nor was it in an ideal condition, but the fact it still stood told her what she needed. This is how that commoner’s been entering the city, eh? I’m surprised he hasn’t been caught yet!

And then a feeling of fear flared within her. She wasn’t afraid for herself, but rather the boy. She remembers what happened earlier today and she feels bitter. Somehow she finds the resolve to do what she could’ve done before right now. 

Cecilia turns back around, already retracing her steps. In her mind, she thinks of one person she knows who can help her pull this off.

For now, she’ll prepare for tomorrow.

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A/N:

Taglist: @yuriisclumsy

Social Hierarchy in the Divine City for context!

Questions, comments, and critiques are more than welcome! Let me know how I can improve anything at all (Please.)!

I wanted to write Cecilia not as a snooty, arrogant brat, but as a bored young teen who hasn’t found her motivation in life yet. And that affects her confidence in DOING things like stopping bullying. She’s not terrible, but she isn’t good when she isn’t proactive in solving problems in general.

As the sole child of wealthy parents who go on frequent business trips, I desired to write her as somewhat independent. She COULD have just gotten servants to go out, but she wouldn't waste any opportunity to keep herself busy. Of course, she knows this conflicts with the general image of the upper class so she's prepared to lie her way out.

Man, social hierarchies are complicated to live in.

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P-34: Hm. Lady Cecilia seems almost disappointed in herself at that moment.

"Sir": That's definitely regret.

P-34: And classism is...terrible. Just generally terrible. Besides, where are her parents?

"Sir": It's implied they're not at home. And Cecilia thinks of them in the present, which means they're not dead. So no 'dead parents' trope in effect here.

P-34: Oh good! That whole trope is getting rather cliche if ya ask me. It's nice for some variety now and then.

"Sir": Mm. It's a good thing Emery and the servants are there. Granted they're not actual parents, but the details are boring.

P-34: I wonder if she actually cares for Henry or simply wants him to stay out for his own good.

"Sir": Yes...a good question for next time.

P-34: Hmm...well then, who's after her?

"Sir": *shuffles paper* Oh, a blacksmith apprentice. Makes sense. A big city and national guard means someone needs to be making weapons. As for who's learning HOW to, well...hmhm. This'll be a first to write. Best to give it my all!

[bloodlegacies]

Ask Spoilers/Patreon Demo.

First of all, thank you, glad you liked it 😁 For the first question.

1: The difference is that it involves his own people, and not foreign invaders and enemies. And although he doesn't mind if the people see him taking others and interrogating them (even torturing some), he does care that the people see him as a coward, as an Elkar or Petrunian would do things. Eleazar doesn't like the idea of looking like them, and neither do the people. Of course, nobody wants to see their loved ones hurt, but if a betrayal were to be discovered, what such people would think (at least the majority of Darians) would be shame and pain, and anger, although there would be understanding, even because the heir/heiress of the duke had been threatened and kidnapped by a Petrunian (in their view), and anyone who helped this Petrunian would also be considered a traitor, to blood and nation. Not only for Eleazar, but also for Darian and their past.

Now, if Eleazar were to act like the Elkar and the Petrunians and they found out? it could imply that Eleazar is a coward, that he is not strong or brave enough to do it in front of others, that he is as low as them, or that something is hidden there. Perhaps Eleazar did it by order of the king, they could think that it was the Elkar who ordered it to be done in secret because they wanted to force Eleazar to kill his own because of the death of one of theirs (Fion is a Petrunian, and he was close to the king, remember), and that Eleazar obeyed the orders like a dog, which would be shameful. But of course, all of this IF THEY KNEW, which will depend on how the MC chooses to do it. And there are other things they could also think, or question.

2: Cecilia is unaware of Hayden's feelings for the MC, but she is not naive, she may come to find out.

3: It could happen that: Alexiel (father of Cecilia and Caio), and his wife, later make Caio the heir (which is unlikely, given his secret and inheritance, but it could be possible). In this case, Cecilia would still have a share, but not all of it. Or indeed, as long as Cecilia remains the heir, both the MC and Cecilia would have rights to their respective territories, just like their sons and daughters, and this is one of the reasons why there are rarely marriages between Darians and Petrunians, because that would mean that the territories, both in Darian and Petrus, would have to be added to an opposing house and family, and therefore, both would be divided, or they would be completely annexed to Petrus or Darian, allowing the leaders of their respective homes to have even more territory.

And in Cecilia's case, it would basically be a whole part of Petrus, as the Marven family has many vassals and territory. This could cause confusion and complications, since both peoples do not like each other, and when the MC and Cecilia have children... well, this also complicates things, as they would basically have both Darian and Petrus blood, which is not very well seen.