#ok rhett

[becausethathappens]

😎 a state of rapture 🎶

[petcr3]

ticking all the boxers | rhett abbott x plus size!reader

summary: when rhett notices something about your nighttime attire, it leads to a unexpected and tender conversation about the things you love about one another.

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: some brief discussions about negative body image (this is for my bigger girlies who love rhett abbott and his slutty little waist), cursing, me being on my usual saccharine bullshit, rhett referring to the reader as ‘my girl’

PS: obvs my straight sized lovelies are more than welcome to read this but reader is specified as being bigger than rhett, so! just a heads up.

a/n: i absolutely love the trope of stealing your partners clothes, but as a plus size gal myself, that option becomes limited, if available at all. i was feeling mushy about rhett and thus my first full length story since fucking february was born lol! hope you enjoy <3 PPS: i was gonna have this turn into smut but i figured i’d save that for a part two if anyone wants it!

You’re lounging in your bed, covers flipped back in wait while Rhett washes up in the bathroom. The quiet hiss of the shower has you blinking back sleep, but when you hear the water turn off, you smile, ready to curl up beside him for a good night’s rest. You don’t know what you’re expecting when your boyfriend saunters back in, but it certainly isn’t him towel drying his hair, buck-ass naked. Something in the back of your heart warms at the domesticity of it, that he’s comfortable enough in your space to walk around completely bare–– but you’re more than a little distracted at the sight of him. After all, you’re only human; you can’t help but stare. It’s ridiculous, really, the way he inspires fondness and lust in equal measure. He catches you looking and grins like he wasn’t expecting it.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn–– somehow he’s got you feeling like he caught you peeping on him like he’s not in your apartment marching his frankly adonis-like figure around, nude as the day he was born. The glint in his eye tells you he’s definitely about to press the issue when he stops, head cocking, and squints at you.

“Are those my boxers?”

You blink. For a moment, you can’t tell if he’s serious. But as he steps toward you to get a closer look, it’s clear that he is.

“Rhett,” you say, dryly, “honey. There is no way in hell I could ever fit into a pair of your boxers.”

“Well…” he mutters, distracted, “sure, okay, but…” He gives you one last lingering look before trailing off, turning to pick through your dresser for a pair of pajama pants. Where he’d once had his own drawer, Rhett’s clothes have gradually made their way in with yours to the point where they’re mixed in completely. He finds what he’s looking for, though, and tugs on a pair of red flannel bottoms, frowning in thought.

“Could swear I got a pair just like those,” he muses, shutting off the overhead light. You’re grateful he can’t see you blush in the dim light of the lamp on your bedside table. “In fact,” he continues, climbing into bed beside you, fingers pushing under the hem of your shirt to run the elastic band between his fingers, “I know I got a pair just like those.”

“Hmm, what a coincidence,” you say, rushed and completely artless, “good night!” And with that, you flip onto your other side, facing away from him, and burrow under the covers, half embarrassed and half giddy. Rhett takes the fact that you’ve left the lamp on as a cue that you’re not actually trying to avoid the conversation, and flips you playfully onto your back. You let out a squeak in surprise, feeling suddenly shy beneath your boyfriend’s wolfish grin.

“Come on,” he practically purrs, “lemme see my girl.” He swoops down to press his lips against your neck–– a foolproof distraction–– and yanks the covers away from your body. With a final, mischievous nip to your jaw, he leans back, taking you in. Affection colors his features as he shakes his head at you, eyes wandering over your figure until they land on your face. He lifts a brow, more an invitation to explain than a challenge. You sigh, eyes casting off to the side. It’s not like you were never going to tell him, but you find yourself growing bashful now that the time has come.

“I was at the store and I saw a pack of boxers… recognized the patterns,” you mumble, tilting your gaze away from his. “They had them in a size that fit me, so… I bought ‘em.” When you look back at Rhett you expect to see some mirth in his expression, but there isn’t a hint of teasing there. In fact, he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“You wanted to wear my boxers?” he asks, and you just barely catch the earnest and hopeful lilt in his voice, like he’s not your longtime boyfriend, like he’s surprised you like him so much. You look away from him again, the glow of his adoration making you self conscious. But he ducks into your line of sight, leaning in close. “Hmm?” he prompts, clearly wanting to hear you say it. “You wanted to wear ‘em?” You bite your lip.

“Yes,” you eventually huff, eyes rolling skyward. “But you’re so goddamn…” You search for the right word. “...svelte that I’ll never be able to, and––” You’re cut off by a flurry of kisses, Rhett’s lips pecking at your own, at your collarbone, the apples of your cheeks. You can’t help but giggle, squirming under him, your nerves already easing.

“I fucking love you,” he says, gleeful, “I love that you did that.” He noses against your cheek, and you can feel him smiling against your skin.

“Don’t look now,” you say, feeling the tiniest bit emboldened, “but I’m wearing a mens’ tank top, too.” Rhett groans, letting his head flop into the crook of your shoulder, and you’re laughing again.

“Well!” you protest, even though he’s clearly thrilled. “I just wanted to…” You sigh, retreating inwards a little now that you have to explain it. “Other girls get to do this shit all the time. I wanna feel close to you when you’re gone, and I can’t borrow your shirts and wear them to bed, you know?” Rhett sits up, a more serious expression on his face now as he listens. “You’re smaller than me, and that’s not––” You roll your eyes, “I know you’re not supposed to call men small, or whatever, but it’s just––” You’re starting to flounder but he nods, a reassuring hand finding your waist and squeezing.

“S’okay. I get what you mean, baby.” You nod, trusting him, though you still feel a little unsure. You make yourself smile for him, but Rhett knows you like the back of his hand, and he can see insecurity begin to creep in.

“Yeah,” you pick up again, sounding distant, “it’s just…” You shake your head, turning your focus back to him. “God, I mean look at you! You’re so gorgeous, you’re built like a fucking greek god––” he lets out a little laugh at that, eyes scanning adoringly over your face–– “and I’m so… so––” But you’re silenced with a kiss, Rhett’s hand coming to graze gently behind your jaw.

“So fucking sexy,” he mumbles against your lips, punctuating each ensuing declaration with a kiss. “So pretty. So good to me. Like somebody reached into my head and made you up.” Immediately, your heartbeat picks up, mouth drying out. How easy it is for him to make you speechless. You peer up at him when he pulls away, reaching up to stroke your fingers across his cheek. He covers your hand with his and presses a kiss against your palm, sitting back on his haunches. “I don’t wanna hear you say one mean word about yourself,” he says softly, “I won’t hear it.”

“Rhett––”

“I won’t,” he says simply. You sit up and he draws your clasped hands to his chest. “Never mind the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen–– because you are.” He gives you a faux stern look, as if daring you to challenge him. You let out a quiet laugh, gaze casting down. Rhett breaks into a soft smile and again he tilts his face into your eye line.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, “you know that, right?” God, he makes your heart ache.

“Baby,” you whisper, lifting your hand to cup his cheek once more, your thumb skimming across his bottom lip. 

“You are,” he insists, eyes practically twinkling. “Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel? That you did that?” Your brows lift and you give a little shrug, your hand dropping into your lap. “Makes me feel really fucking good, sweetheart. Makes me feel wanted. Like, for me. Like I mean something to you. ‘M not used to that.” You study him for a moment, wondering how anyone could ever meet Rhett and not want to give him the world.

“Well,” you murmur, “get used to it, cowboy.” His hair is still damp when you lean forward to card your fingers through it, flicking away a few droplets before settling your palms on his broad shoulders. “I want you for you, Rhett Abbott. All the time. Always. You mean everything to me.” He shakes his head at you like he can’t believe you’re real. And truly, he can’t.

All at once, he surges forward and pulls you into a heated kiss. And while it’s unquestionably hot, it’s not just that. There’s emotion in it–– gratitude, devotion. You can’t help the little sigh that flutters out of you as you tug him closer. When the kiss breaks, you both find yourselves breathing a little harder, foreheads pressed together, before you’re drawn in for another kiss, this one a quick peck, a punctuation. You lean back against the headboard, trailing your hands up and down his arms. 

“You’re mine, too, by the way,” you say, taking him in, a warm, cozy feeling settling in your chest.

Rhett cocks his head. You clarify: “My greatest thing.”  It’s his turn, now, to look a little bashful.

“Well,” he says, cheeks beginning to pink, “I’ll endeavor to keep it that way.” You shake your head fondly.

“No need. It’s you,” you say simply. “No contest.” Unable to help yourself, you reach up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck. A gentle smile blossoms on Rhett’s lips. You mirror it without even realizing.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I love you too, baby.”

Rhett places another quick peck to your lips before leaning you back against the pillows.

“Now,” he says, reaching to his left to flick off the lamp, “about these boxers.”

[steve-s-slut]

GMM IN A NUTSHELL

GMM#2653

[desire-mona]

this had way more sexual tension than necessary

[lallyloo]

[x]

[merry-andrews]

Johnny/Kenshi but there never was a Mortal Kombat, Johnny just met him at one of his travels to Japan and now they're married, on a honeymoon. Soft morning with Kenshi kissing top of his head and caressing his body when Johnny lifts his head to ask why Kenshi keeps him around only to be answered; "darling, I wanted to have you all for myself like a cute little pet from the first time we met."

[vc55bughead]

Anthony's Funeral Roast summed up in four photos: 🫡

[cherrytastiq]

whatever

[unhinged-nymph]

Link knows that Rhett can grind 😉

[rinkyrinkyrinky]

"daddy looks weird when he stands up"

[loulougoingsolo]

I haven't posted anything about Wonderhole ep. 4, because I needed to process it a bit further. My brother is currently going through treatment for testicular cancer, and I really wanted to share this episode with him, but then he was really depressed yesterday, and I just couldn't. I loved this episode, the way it honoured Ben's memory and brought a much needed lightness to a heavy topic. I've had that annoyingly catchy "Pair at a time" song playing on a loop in my head all day, and I know my brother would see the humour in all of this, when he's feeling less sad, but he's not there right now. I choose to believe he will be, in a not so distant future.

Anyways, this episode affected me. I was sad because of Ben whose life ended way too early, and who is still, after all these years, an inspiration to Rhett and Link. I hope, with making this video, the guys can let go of at least some of the guilt they carry for how things went all those years ago. They were all so young, and they did what they thought was best.

I was sad for the Dad squirrel, but also a bit mad, because he didn't try to get safe hard enough. Maybe he couldn't fly, but he could have climbed down, had he tried a little harder. Of course, it's really difficult to try harder, when you are feeling hopeless.

I am sad, because I see a loved one hurting and I can't ease his pain. I'd give my brother my wings if I could so he could fly, but I can't. I can only hope he finds a safe way down from the tree.

For me, the most emotional moment of the episode was that shot of the tree stump with the tiny sapling growing from its roots. I saw that sapling as a sign of hope. I so need to believe there is hope.

[becausethathappens]

who is this?

[jessebutchman]

things i never posted

[steve-s-slut]

👅🍩

[peach-pot]

oh so when my lesbian twin is getting shown their friends’ ugly boyfriends and they have opinions about this they can tell when men are hot, but when I ask them who’s hotter, rhett or link—

[lallyloo]