#rhett and his blouses | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunlightmurdock · 2 years ago

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Odds are Stacked | Rhett Abbott x virgin!reader

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

Warnings: reader is (as always) over 18, smut, p-in-v, unprotected sex (pls make good decisions), creampie (see previous point), fingering, oral (f receiving)

…

“You’re kidding. Right?”

“No, I’m — I’m serious.”

“Then you’re stupid,” Rhett answers as he folds his arms over his chest. “What kind of question is that anyway? — You don’t just go around askin’ people stuff like that.”

You shift awkwardly on your feet and push your hands deep into the pockets of your jeans, “Well, I’m not going around asking people, I’m asking you.”

“Exactly and you barely know me.” Rhett says. He leans back against the wall and looks around to make sure no one is overhearing this ridiculous conversation. “Somebody put you up to this, right? You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I-I-“ You look down at the ground and nudge the toe of your shoe against the gravel. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”

Rhett wants to smack his palm against his forehead. He looks around again. “You don’t ask someone something like this. That’s fucking weird, kid.”

You sigh softly and rub at your temples. Then, Rhett raises his eyebrows disbelievingly as you take a step towards him and look up at him, all stone faced and serious.

“Look,” He half wants to laugh in your face. He has to say, at least you’re original. In all of his experiences with women, he’s never had one corner him outside of the feed store on Main Street and ask him to take their virginity. “I’m moving out in a month. There is no way in hell that I’m moving to Seattle being a stupid little country girl virgin!”

“Keep your voice down!” Rhett grabs your elbow, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “The hell is the matter with you?”

You shake your arm out of his grasp and check over your shoulder, then look back into those pretty blue eyes. He watches you lift your brows and bat your lashes at him, sighing softly as he sinks further back against the wall.

“Well, why me? — You don’t even know me.”

That’s where he’s wrong. You do know him. Better than he thinks. Most girls in town either know Rhett personally, or have friends who know Rhett personally. Most people around town know a fair few things about Rhett. You’ve heard your father talk about him enough to know that this is the guy you should be speaking to.

Rhett has experience. You need experience.

“I’ve heard things.” You answer him. The corner of his mouth twitches. He almost smirks, then scowls once more.

“Can’t you fuck someone your own age? — Probably some altar boy out there just waiting to live out his own Virgin Mary wet dream with you.” You cringe at the crudeness of his words. You’ve been warned that he talks like this. Rhett lifts an eyebrow as he lifts one foot to rest against the red brickwork. You follow his gaze down to the silver cross hanging on your chest. Your cheeks burn furiously.

Now it’s your turn to fold your arms over your chest. He watches you curiously. Rhett looks you up and down. Tennis shoes, smooth skin, a pair of shorts that are most definitely hand-me-downs from your older sister. A pretty blouse tucked into those shorts. The silver cross disappearing under the opened top few buttons. That sweet little ribbon securing your hair back.

Looks aren’t the issue. Based on looks alone, you wouldn’t have had to ask him anything because he would’ve closed this apparent business deal a long time ago.

“Are you going to do it or not?” You sigh. This time he does laugh. At the ridiculousness of it. Of the seriousness to your tone. Of the fact that until now he was actually kind of considering it. You could cry sat the sound of his laughter.

“No.” He says coldly. Maybe he doesn’t mean for it to be cold, but it stings like the sensation of ice being held in the palm for too long nonetheless. Then you catch his eyes fall down to your chest. You realise that with his height, he can see a glimpse of your white bra under the material. He’s not even pretending like he isn’t looking. After all, you did just proposition him in the street — so what does he have to be embarrassed about?

Your brain tells you to cover up and your hand instinctively raises to clasp another button. Instead, you trail your fingers from the top button on the left side, down along the open seam, until it reaches the first button that is fastened. Rhett watches you hand travel along that fine line between smooth skin and soft linen.

“What if we made a bet?” You ask him. He lifts his gaze from your chest to meet yours. The weight of his gaze almost knocks you off of your feet, your knees trembling. The look in his eye is intrigue, but it’s something else too, something you aren’t familiar with yet.

“What kinda bet?” Rhett asks. His brows tighten closer together, but not with disbelief or slight discomfort this time. With genuine interest. Your heart soars. You should have led with this.

Rhett’s a gambling man just like every other cowboy in this town.

“The rodeo this Friday. If you win,” You know his chances are slim after he hurt his hand last week. He knows this too. “Then we go to the motel on the edge of town and you take my virginity. If you lose, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

Rhett studies your features. He lifts his chin, “If I lose, you get your Dad off my back about that bar fight a couple of weeks ago.”

“I can’t get him to drop aggravated assault charges, Rhett.” You frown. Rhett pushes off of the wall and stands up straight, looking down at you. It’s a stupid charge anyway. It’s this month’s talk of the town. Rhett turned around in church and punched Billy Tillerson in the mouth. No one knows why, Billy’s adamant he didn’t say anything.

The Tillerson’s are pressing charges and trying to sue the Abbott’s over it. Just the cost of Billy’s medical bills after Rhett broke his nose.

“Those are my terms. You have yours, I have mine. Figure it out and we have a deal.” It’s practically a done deal. As much as he would like to pretend he has a shot this Friday, he’s up against some of the best in the county with a fist that he can barely close, let alone grip on with. He gets his charges dropped and you’ll have to go ask some other poor son of a bitch to put their life on the line.

He smirks, holding his hand out toward you. You hesitate, knowing that in order to get your Dad to throw out his case, you’re going to have to do some major grovelling whilst also avoiding suspicion at the same time. The odds that he’s going to lose, in your head, are slim. The odd that he’s going to win, to him, are even slimmer.

But you only have a month before you move. And no one else that you would dare ask. You stick your hand in his, watching as his fingers curl around your palm and he shakes your hand. “Alright, it’s a bet.” He confirms.

You flinch and drop your hand back to the side as you hear your name. Rhett raises his eyebrows, just waiting for you to turn back into the obedient little door mouse he knows you to be.

“Coming, Daddy!” You call back, shooting Rhett a quick smile before you turn and round the corner back onto Main Street. Rhett leans against the wall and watches as you cross the road toward the police station.

Your father smiles and hugs you, asking you where you’d been hiding before he guides you inside with him.

“What were you talking to Sheriff Clark’s kid about?”

Perry’s voice makes him jump. Rhett turns his head quickly to his brother, now standing in the door way to the store, trying to juggle the four bags of heavy feed in his arms. Rhett rushes forwards to grab two before Perry drops them all.

“Nothin’.” He answers back, his eyes still lingering on the police station now that you’ve disappeared inside. He drops the feed into the back of the pick up and turns towards his brother. “She said good luck for the ride this weekend.”

Perry’s brows scrunch as he drops his bags of feed into the truck too. He closes up the back and leans his elbows against the metal as he turns to look at the police station too. “Huh… Didn’t think her Daddy let her go to those kinda things.”

Rhett shrugs his shoulders and slides into the passenger seat. After that conversation, he realises that you’re probably not too concerned with what your Daddy wants you to do anymore.

Friday rolls around all too quickly for Rhett’s liking. His hand is also feeling a lot better by Friday after the muscle soak his Mom made him stick his hand in for three hours the night before. As calming as that was, he barely sleeps at all the night before.

He just can’t stop thinking about how insane this is. Sure, he knows that he has made a little bit of a name for himself around Amelia County — he just hadn’t realised that it had gotten to the point that the Sheriff’s daughter would come up to him in the street and ask him to take her virginity as if that was a normal thing to do.

“Princess, we’re going to be late!” Your mother calls from the bottom of the stairs.

You adjust your outfit. Tucking your t-shirt into your jeans, untucking it again, whining as you look into the mirror, undecided.

“Coming!” You grab your coat and throw it on top, hoping that Rhett won’t leave you in your outfit long enough to critique it. You fiddle with your hands in the back of the car as your father drives. It’s freezing tonight. You’re early, like your father likes to be to everything. Your family sits near the back, high enough up in the stalls to have a good view.

The Abbott’s show up ten minutes before the competition is due to begin. Celia smiled back at your parents, but other than that, you’re invisible to them. Like you are to everyone around here. You refuse to start off the same way in Seattle.

Your grateful that your parents don’t notice your fidgeting through the competition, on the way that your breath catches in your throat when the announcer reads out his name. The way that your eyes shoot wide open as the clock ticks up to eight full seconds when he rides. The way that when it’s all over, you can’t take your eyes off of his name at the top of the list.

“I’m still allowed to stay at Caroline’s house, right, Daddy?” You ask as your parents begin to move from their spots in the stands. Your father grumbles uncertainly as he turns towards you. You had agreed this with him previously. Caroline has been your best friend since first grade, she’s the only one your father trusts you with.

“Alright, fine. Is she gonna come pick you up or shall I drop you off?” Your father asks.

“She’s going to pick me up. I’m going to go talk to Father Ames about Sunday service first, okay?” No you aren’t. Far from it.

“Alright, Princess, we’ll see you tomorrow.” Your father kisses the top of your head and watches you walk away. You wait until you’re out of their sight before you dip under the rope and walk into the rider’s area.

Rhett’s turning away from a conversation with another man that you don’t recognise when he spots you. He’s already back in his normal clothes, laughing about his win. His smile falters as he looks you over.

You stand up straighter and hold your hands behind your back, smiling. His lip quirks. He waves off the man that he was talking to and walks over to you until he’s standing close enough for you to smell his cologne.

“You serious about this, kid?” He asks.

He watches as your eyes look over his face. You nod at him, “A bet’s a bet.”

“Alright. Truck’s this way.” He expects you to back out. But you don’t. Not during the walk to the truck. Not during the forty minute ride out to the motel. Not once he’s been handed the keys to the room.

“Hope you weren’t expecting flowers or anything.” Rhett jokes as he motions for you to walk ahead of him, the key dangling between his index finger and thumb.

You smile and shake your head, “No.”

He furrows his brows as you reach back and take the key from his hand. Your head turns to examine each door number as you pass them. Finally, you reach 203 and push the key into the lock.

Rhett watches your hand curl around the handle and push the door open. He hesitates and wonders why you aren’t. Why you aren’t hesitating. Then, not wanting to be caught lurking in the hall, he follows you inside and swings the door shut behind the two of you.

He watches as you walk over and take a seat on the edge of the bed, lifting your chin to look at him. You shrug your coat off and toss it onto the chair in the corner.

Rhett stands by the door and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He watches as you lift your foot and untie your laces.

“I’m gonna need more information about all of this,” Rhett decides, shaking his head as he stands with his back to the door. You look up at him, shoe half off of your left foot. “Why now? Why me — why’s it such a big deal that you haven’t been fucked before?”

He watches the way your nose scrunches in distaste at his words. That baffles him even further.

“I have a list,”

Rhett’s face flashes with confusion. Interest. More confusion.

“Of things that I need to do before I move. Adult stuff, you know?”

He watches as you continue with your laces, kicking off the left shoe first then moving onto the right. It’s just so you don’t have to look into those blue eyes.

“Like what?” It’s like he hasn’t decided if he’s going to go through with this yet. Like if he takes one more step into the room then it’s settled. Like he might still turn around and walk right back out.

He watches you kick the converse to the ground and then pull your knees up to your chest, hooking a thumb into your sock.

“Well, sex, obviously. Um, I bought my first car. Got drunk for the first time last week. Bought my own furniture. Rented a u-haul. I still have to figure out getting into a fight —“

“What?” Rhett laughs at you. “A fight?”

You pause with your sock halfway down your foot, looking up at him and pressing your lips together. You shrug your shoulders.

He steps forward finally, still shaking his head in utter disbelief. Decision made.

“You’re insane.” Hurt flashes across your face and he stops again, realising that that wasn’t what he was supposed to say. Rhett has a history of hurting women’s feelings, but he really didn’t mean to just then. “Not — sorry, I just — I don’t get it. Why the hell would you have to do all that stuff just to move out of town?”

“Because I’ve never been a grown�� up,” You explain to him, tucking your knees up closer to your chest. “Like, I’m an adult, sure. But I didn’t go to college, I’ve never moved out of my parents’ house. I’ve had the same job since I was sixteen. It’s time to grow up.”

Rhett seems to understand what you’ve just told him. He leans against the wall this time instead, tilting his head and looking at you like he’s waiting for you to continue.

“I want to feel like an adult by the time I move.”

He shrugs his jacket closer to his body. You tug your socks off and push yourself further onto the bed, waiting for him to finally cross the room.

“Kid, I really don’t think that me fucking you is gonna help you feel like a grown up.” He admits. You shrug your shoulders at him.

“Can’t hurt to try.” Rhett’s lips quirk softly at your optimism. You stretch your legs out, dangling them over the edge of the bed. “Besides, a bet’s a bet. I won.”

He nods his head as he finally steps forward, rolling his shoulders back and shrugging his jacket down to his elbows. “Right.”

You lean back on your palms as he drops the jacket off completely. He takes it in his hand and tosses it onto the chair in the corner of the room. Rhett crosses the room to stand before you. You push yourself to the edge.

“So, uh… how do you want to do this?” Rhett asks, reaching out and hooking a finger under your chin and lifting your jaw. You shrug your shoulders like this wasn’t all your idea.

“You’re the expert.” You answer, curling your fingers into the sheets just to have something to occupy your hands. He chuckles, then trails his fingertips from your chin to the curve of your jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How far have you gone before this?”

“What do you mean?” You frown at him. He sighs as he moves to sit at your side, laying back down against the mattress and looking at the ceiling.

“Y’know, like — third base?”

“That’s like… oral, right?” Rhett nods at you. You turn to look at him, curling one leg under you as the other hangs over the edge of the bed. He tucks an arm behind his head and raised an eyebrow expectantly at you. “No. I haven’t — I’ve never…”

“Second base?” He prods.

“I’ve never actually kissed anyone.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” He complains, grabbing his cap and pushing the brim down over his eyes. He groans out loud, squeezing his eyes shut. “Could’ve mentioned that earlier, kid.”

Your cheeks burn angrily. He’s stalling. Making excuses. A deal is a deal. Now he isn’t even looking at you, keeping his cap down over his eyes.

You lean down and press your mouth against his, feeling him tense up against you. He sits up quickly, brows furrowed.

“Now I’ve kissed someone.” You announce matter-of-factly. His lips part, like he’s going to say anything. Words fail him. “That’s all this is, Rhett. I’ve never had sex — that’s why I’m here. Do it and it’s done.”

His lips finally lift up into a real smirk. He shifts closer to you and slides a hand around to cup the back of your neck, brushing his thumb across the bump at the top of your spine. His eyes study over your features.

“You could do with some lessons on talking dirty to start with, kid.” He teases, pulling you back down and kissing your lips. You exhale a breath of relief through hint nostrils. He’s on his back, pulling you just slightly onto his chest.

Rhett’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, his fingers sliding up into your hair, curling into your roots. He waits for you to figure out what comes next, to part your lips for him. Impatient, he tugs softly at your roots and feels your lips part in surprise. You hum softly into his mouth as he slides his tongue against yours.

“Ouch.” You complain against his mouth.

He reminds himself that he isn’t with some buckle bunny who does this every week, loosening his hold in your hair. You feel him tug you harder against him, caressing his tongue against yours. It’s easy to let him lead. He’s doing all of the work, moving his tongue against yours, taking your top lip between his — you’re just following his lead.

Rhett pushes against you, nudging his knee between your thighs as he guides you onto your back, lips not leaving yours. You’re glad that you’re wearing a thicker material, hoping that he can’t feel how much your heart is racing. He doesn’t need to feel your heartbeat to know that your nervous, he’s pretending not to notice the way your hands are still at your sides, curling into the sheets.

“I’m not gonna get hard if you just lay there like a damn mannequin.” He grumbles, sliding his hand down and uncurling your hand from the fabric. He knocks his cap off of his head and slides your hand around to the back of his neck, pushing your fingers up into his hair.

You’re embarrassed that he said that. That you might not be good enough.

“Just relax, you can touch me,” Rhett murmurs, sweeter this time as he speaks. He kisses your lips softly. “We’re just making out. People touch each other when they make out.”

His hand finds your chest, pressing his palm flat over your breast through your t-shirt. He squeezes softly over the material and rocks his crotch against your hip, feeling you gasp against his mouth.

“See? — Makes a difference, right?” He mumbles. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck, pulling him tighter against you. “That’s it.”

His hand paws at your chest as he slides his tongue back into your mouth. Curiosity getting the better of him, he yanks your shirt from being tucked neatly into your jeans to a crumpled mess above your tits. You gasp softly as both of his hands slide along your bare stomach, up and covering your breasts with his hands over your bra.

“Now I’m more likely to get hard,” He murmurs. Your cheeks flush. Rhett tugs you forwards and manhandles you out of the shirt, leaving you in your bra before him. He studies the wide-eyed panic on your face. “Sorry. You have real nice tits.” You gasp as he kneads them in his hands. He catches the smile on your face. Pleased that he likes the way you look.

Rhett lifts his head and kisses you hard, sliding his hands down to grab at your thighs. He guides them around his hips, pressing his crotch forward against you.

“I can’t believe you never made out with anyone in high school.” He mutters, squeezing your thighs, kissing you hard. You’re dizzied with how fast he moved. How he’s all over you all at once. “Spent most of my freshman year doing this.”

“I - I had a pretty strict curfew,” You manage, curling your hand into the fabric of his shirt as his mouth presses open-mouthed kisses along the length of your throat. “My Dad was pretty strict.”

“No kidding.” Rhett mocks you, nipping softly at your throat with his teeth as he grinds his hips forward. There are two thick layers of denim between you, so you’re surprised at how exciting the sensation is when he drives himself against you.

He’s rocking back and forth, grinding himself between your legs as he teases along your collarbones. His hands slide up to grope at your chest once more, this time he groans as his hands move over your tits. It gives you a sudden surge of confidence, knowing that he likes them so much.

You know that Rhett has seen his fair share of women naked, so knowing that he finds your body appealing gives you unparalleled confidence after a lifetime of being told to cover up.

You moan out, pressing your heels into the bed and pushing your hips back against his. Rhett’s lips still at the base of your throat, moving slowly as he pulls back and squints, like you’re one of his horses and he’s trying not to spook you. Your entire face flushes, heat spreading down onto your body. Regret fills you. You wishes you could take the noise back.

Rhett sits back on his knees and slides his hand down to his crotch. Your chest heaves as you watch him. He grabs himself through the fabric of his jeans, curling his hand around his cock, watching amusedly as your eyes go wide. It occurs to you that he’s showing you that he’s half-hard.

“See? — When you stop being such a little church mouse, guys want to fuck you.” He breathes out. He squeezes his hand softly around his cock, watching your reactions.

“Do you want to fuck me now?” You ask softly, pushing yourself up on your elbows. His eyes fall down to your chest, they begin to move back up to your face, but then linger on the silver cross hanging between your tits. He hesitates.

You reach behind and unclasp your bra, sliding it off of your shoulders. You cup your breasts in your hands, half to cover yourself, half to try to do what he wants. He watches in intrigue as you press your tits together and squeeze, then let out the sweetest little sigh of contentment. The sound goes straight to his cock.

“That’s it,” He nods, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and tugging it over his head. Your lips part slightly as your eyes rake over his bare chest, tanned and muscled. “You touch yourself when you’re by yourself, kid?”

You smile up at him, then look down shyly, fiddling with your hands, “I…”

“Answer me.” He grabs your wrists in one hands and holds them above your head, rocking his hips forward against your clothed core. You gasp, feeling his cock straining against the denim as he grinds it against you.

“Sometimes.” You admit. You swallow hard as you meet his gaze, finding dark, blown out pupils in those pretty blue eyes. His fingers edge forwards until they find the button on your jeans, popping it open. He looks up at you.

“Yeah?” His voice makes you clench around nothing. You blink at him, taking your lip between your teeth. “How about you show me how grown up you are when you’re by yourself, huh?”

Rhett’s already dragging your zipper down and grabbing at the waist of your jeans. You nod dumbly and lift your hips for him. He tugs your jeans down your thighs, over your knees and off all together.

He eyes trail between your legs, over the white cotton patterned with soft watercolour blue flowers. He purses his lips. Your cross your legs and push yourself up on your elbows once more, embarrassed that you didn’t have anything more special to wear.

Rhett pushes hard against your chest, making your back hit the mattress once more. He stands up, grabbing your knees and parting your thighs for him.

“I asked you to show me, didn’t I?” He repeats, standing upright and lifting his foot to unlace his boots. You bite your lip. He watches your chest heaving. Watches a trembling hand lift from your side and slide into your panties.

You close your eyes, back in your room, alone, thinking of him. He doesn’t even remember it, you know he doesn’t, but that one time he wound up in the drunk tank on a night that you were at the station has been your inspiration for many times like this.

You were sitting at your father’s desk, chin resting against your fist. He was supposed to take you out for dinner, but there had been a domestic disturbance out at the Tillerson place involving a firearm, so the whole department had headed over there. It was just you and Rhett.

You sitting there, all dolled up and dressed for dinner in your pretty little dress, him still drunk and sitting on the floor of the cell.

He had let out a low whistle and lifted a hand, curling his finger for you to come over to him. His shirt had been ripped during a fight, so he was sitting there in just his jeans — exactly like he’s standing in front of you now.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” He had smelled like beer, but you hadn’t minded, too blinded by the attention and those pretty eyes. You’d dumbly stuttered out your name and he’d pushed himself up from the floor. Rhett had pressed his chest up against the bars and looked down at you.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” He’d slurred his words a little, reaching through the bars to graze his knuckles across your cheek. “God spent a little more time on you, huh?”

You’d stood there, all flustered and silent like an idiot. He’d curled his fingers around your jaw, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, groaning softly to himself.

“Open.” You don’t know why, but you’d opened your mouth for him. He pressed the digit between your lips, eyes heavy with lust as he watched your mouth wrap around it.

He had taken his bottom lip between his teeth, resting the pad of his thumb against your tongue. You had known what he had wanted you to do, sucking softly at the digit. He’d grinned at you, taking his other hand and wrapping it around the bar.

He had taken in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and then glancing down. You had followed his gaze all the way down to the straining bulge in his jeans. Then, your father had gotten back. You had jumped away from him and hurried back over to the desk.

Rhett groans softly as he watches your back arch off of the sheets, lips parted, brows raised softly as you pleasure yourself. All to the thought of him, and he has no idea.

He pops open the button on his jeans and yanks open the zipper. Your eyes open at the sound, stilling your hand between your legs. Rhett presses one knee into the mattress, grabbing at your underwear and tugging it down your legs. Your eyes fly wide open, pressing your legs together to cover yourself.

“Fuck me,” Rhett mutters, dropping to his knees beside the bed, burying his head between your legs. You gasp as he nips at your thighs, grazing his teeth against the untouched skin. “How the fuck have I never noticed you before now?”

The graze of his stubble between your legs makes you shiver as he sucks a soft purple mark into your skin. It’s like a claim — he might as well have marked his name.

“So fucking wet for me,” He trails two fingers along your core, gathering your excitement on his fingers. He groans out, pressing his mouth against you, covering your clit with his tongue. You gasp for air, arching your back up off of the bed, fisting your hand into the sheets. “Look at you, so fucking ready for it.”

You lift your head to look at him, propping yourself up on your elbows once more. Rhett sinks his middle finger into you, his cock twitching as he takes in how soaked you are for him. He works his finger in and out of you, curling it softly against your walls.

“Look,” He takes his other hand and grabs the back of your neck. You whimper softly as he pulls you forward, hunching closer, taking your lip between you teeth. He sinks his ring finger into you alongside the other. “Taking ‘em so damn well.”

Rhett lifts his chin and presses his lips against yours, working his fingers deep into you. You’re gasping and moaning against his mouth, digging your heels into the bed as his touch sends sparks through you.

“That’s it, kid,” Rhett groans out against your lips, biting softly at your lip. “Gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you, honey?”

He lowers his head between your legs again, pressing his lips over your clit and flicking his tongue expertly over the all too sensitive bundle of nerves. Your trembling arm gives out under you. You dig your heels into the edge of the bed, white-knuckling against the bed sheets.

Rhett palms at his jeans, adjusting the strain in his boxers as his fingers slow slightly inside of you. He presses his lips to your thighs, then your pelvic bone, then your hips.

“Fuck, I’m so hard right now.” Rhett chuckles breathlessly, like he can’t quite believe it himself, standing up and pushing his jeans down. He steps out of them and presses a knee into the mattress once more.

You’re panting, blinking up at him like your head is spinning. You whimper softly as he drops his mouth down to kiss hungrily at your neck, his stubble grazing over your smooth skin.

“I — I want to touch you first.”

Rhett’s so hard it hurts, he’s been straining against stiff denim for going on fifteen minutes now. He hesitates, then let’s out a soft breath.

He rolls off of you, planting himself on his back and hooking his thumb into the waistband of his black boxers. You roll onto your side, chewing at your cheek as you watch him push them down.

You don’t have much experience with the male anatomy, this is the first one you’ve ever seen in person. Maybe you’re biased, but you like his. Rhett wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lifts his eyes to look at your face. His lip quirks.

“Go ‘head.”

You realise you’re staring. Your eyes widen as you lift your eyes to meet his gaze.

“I-I don’t… I haven’t-“

Rhett takes your hand and opens your palm.

“Spit.” He instructs. Your brows knit together as you look between him and your hand. He nods to confirm that he meant exactly what he said. You lean forward uncertainly and spit delicately into your palm.

Rhett looks at the pathetic amount of spit in the centre of your palm, then back up at your face. He presses his lips together, lifting your hand and spitting hard into the centre of your palm. Your pussy clenches around nothing, a heavy pulse thrumming between your legs as you watch him. It’s all kinds of confusing.

“Like this.” He kicks his boxers the rest of the way off as he wraps your hand around his cock, guiding it from base to tip. He works the wetness in you palm over the tip of his cock and spreads it down the shaft.

You take your lip between your teeth, watching. He groans softly, pushing his hips up. He his hand holds yours steady, thrusting his cock into your palm.

His eyes rake over your body, lips parted slightly as he lets out soft groans. Rhett squeezes his eyes shut and rests his head back against the sheets. You take your thumb, swiping it across the leaking tip, letting him work your hand around his cock. He squeezes his palm around yours, grunting.

“Fuck,” Rhett pants out, swallowing hard and stilling both of your hands. He shakes his head and presses his lips together, exhaling through his nose. He lifts himself up, moving on top of you, “I need to be inside of you already.”

He tugs at your thighs, hiking them up around his waist, rocking the tip of his cock against you. “You ready?” He breathes gruffly. You nod furiously up at him.

“Wait, shouldn’t we use a—“

Rhett shakes his head and furrows his brows, “Don’t worry about it. I’m clean, I’ll pull out — feels better like this.” You take in a sharp breath as he pushes the tip into you and slips it back out once more. You nod at him. He’s the expert.

Rhett’s fingertips press so hard into your thighs that they begin to ache. He watches as your eyes squeeze shut the moment he presses into you. “Hey, look at me.” He murmurs, almost tenderly. You open your eyes and grab onto his arm, whimpering softly. He pulls back and pushes into you again, letting just the tip of his cock press into you again. “Gonna have to do better than that, kid. This is nothing.”

You whimper softly as you lift your head and press your forehead against his bicep. Rhett’s grip on your hips tightens as he thrusts softly into you, making you gasp out.

“Shh, shh, shh,” He kisses your temple like he feels bad — he doesn’t. “Just a little more.”

You both groan as he bottoms out, your walls being stretched to their limit. Yours is more of a desperate whimper while his is a deep groan. You adore that sound.

You nod softly against his arm. Rhett rocks his hips back and forth gently, feeling your nails dig into his shoulder as he drives himself as deeply as possible into you.

“It’ll stop hurting.” He promises, pressing warm kisses along the length of your throat as he fucks himself into you. He guides your legs tighter around his waist, eyes falling down to that silver cross as it rocks between your tits with each thrust.

“Promise?”

His cock twitches. He groans softly and nods at you, lips quirking as he brings a hand up to curl around your jaw. He turns your head and kisses your mouth, “Yeah.”

It takes a while, just a couple of minutes. The deep ache, the slightly uncomfortable stretch, it all fades whilst his lips work along your jaw. He feels you relax into him, walls clenching around his cock as you take in that first gasp of pleasure.

“Fucking hell.” Rhett mumbles into the crook of your neck, snapping his hips forward and driving his cock into you hard. You cry out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you pull him closer. He looks down between your bodies, watching as his cock fills you over and over.

He grabs your thigh and pushes it back, angling himself so that he can drive himself into you deeper.

“Rhett!”

He groans, fingers curling around that silver cross. He tugs gently at it, pulling you forward and pressing a kiss to your mouth that’s just as filthy as the sounds spilling from your lips.

Rhett’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he meets your gaze. He drags his knuckles softly against your cheek, punctuating a sharp thrust with a grunt. He slides his hand around to the nape of your neck, curling his fingers tightly around the roots of your hair.

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist. His weight is the only thing keeping you still. He can’t help but notice what a squirming mess you are below him. It’s just stroking his ego.

“Rhett, fuck!” He smiles breathlessly at the proclamation and clutches that silver cross so tightly that it’s going to leave indents in his palm.

His hand was locks in your hair, tugging a little too hard. You yelp, then relax back into your soft mewls as he tenderly kisses your lips. Your soft whines underneath him are driving him crazy, sending him over the edge.

Those pretty eyes flutter up to look at him through thick lashes and lustfully hooded eyes. He snaps his hips forwards hard, then continues at the pace from before.

“I’m gonna cum.” You tell him. It’s a rare occasion that Rhett finds himself caring by this point in the encounter. He’s already gotten the girl off once, what does it matter to him if she gets there again? Only, tonight — he’s just about willing to do anything that’ll keep you making those deliciously sinful sounds.

Sounds that no one else in the world has heard you make except him. His hips stutter slightly. He groans, resting his forehead against the curve of your shoulder as he pounds himself into you. You can barely keep your eyes open, let alone focus on something. You’re trembling before he even makes you cum.

It’s even more intense than the last time. You muffle yourself against his bicep, quietening your scream against his skin. Your walls contract around him as you press your heel into the base of his spine, toes curling.

Rhett grunts out like you’ve punched him, tugging harder at your hair as his hips stutter into yours. His brows knot. He has every intention of pulling out. Last thing he wants on conscience is knocking up the Sheriff’s daughter. But then you’re coming hard around his cock, and you’re so tight, and you’re moaning his name.

You gasp, eyes flying wide open as you feel him spilling inside of you. He’s groaning hard against your throat, tensing as he drives himself deep into you.

He lifts his head and kisses your lips lazily. He looks down between your bodies as his cock slips out of you. He can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy the sight of himself spilling out of you.

“Rhett!”

He pushes himself back and rolls off to lay at your side, waving you off, “You’re fine. We’ll get you a plan B in the morning,” He pants, trying to catch his breath. He stretches his arms up over his head. “Pretty grown up if you ask me — can check your first pregnancy scare off that little list of yours.”

You wish that you didn’t find that funny. You hit his arm as you lay on your back at his side.

“Do I look different?” You ask quietly. He lifts his head and turns to look at you, then chuckles softly, nodding his head as he brushes a hair back off of your face.

“Look like you just got fucked.” He announces, amused by that. You roll your eyes, cheeks burning as you shake your head at him.

“No, like — do I look… like I’m not a virgin anymore?” You ask. Rhett pushes himself up and looks you over completely. His eyes trail back down to the mess between your legs.

“I’d say so.” He smirks at you. Proud of himself. He stands up and grabs his boxers, then walks out to the bathroom. He’s wearing them when he returns, and tosses a roll of tissue paper to you for you to clean yourself up.

“Do you feel different?” He asks, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and laying back against the pillows. You stand, walking to the bathroom to clean yourself up, not wanting to do it in front of him.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, fixing your hair and your mascara just slightly. “Don’t think so.” You call back to him.

“Maybe we should try it again, for good measure.” He calls back to you, only half joking. It’s after that you’ve fixed yourself up that you realise your clothes are still on the floor of the room.

Rhett’s still on top of the covers, sitting in his boxers when you come back. His brows scrunch as you shuffle towards him, covering your body as you lean down and grab your underwear first. He watches, amused.

You lift your head to look at him, catching him staring. He doesn’t make any effort to look away as you step into your underwear. You smile shyly.

“C’mere.” You slip his shirt over your head and slide under the covers, nestling in against his side. He plucks at the fabric with his index and thumb, raising his eyebrows at your boldness. He lets it go. “Figure your folks think you’re with a friend or something, right? — Don’t have to drive you home, do I?”

“No.”

“Good, didn’t want to have to track you down to drag your ass to the pharmacy tomorrow.”

Rhett makes up for a week of not sleeping well that night. He sleeps like a baby. Makes sense, giving how much he wore himself out. Helps having a pretty girl in his bed too.

He drags you out of bed at the crack of dawn, though, much to your annoyance. You’re still half asleep, resting your head against the window of the truck, using his jacket as a makeshift pillow.

“Here.” His voice startles you awake and the sound of the truck door slamming behind him makes you jump upright. He presses the packaging into your hand and a bottle of water into the other.

Another thing to check off the list. First time taking a plan B, hopefully the last. Birth control should probably be added to the list. As the thought crosses your mind, Rhett unzips the shoulder bag that you had brought to the rodeo last night.

“For next time.” He explains, dropping a box of condoms into the bag and zipping it. Your face flushes.

“Next time? — Presumptuous.”

He just smirks. Might’ve been the first time, but he’s sure it isn’t going to be the last. He drives you back to your parents’ house and parks his truck around the corner.

“Thanks for last night.” You tell him.

He nods, watching as your hand curls around the door handle. Then it occurs to him.

“Wait,” You turn to look at him again. He reaches out and curls his fingers around the silver cross necklace. “Can I keep this?” Not like you’ll be needing it anymore.

You glance down. The way his fingers have curled around it, it’s clear that he’s already decided that it’s his. You nod sheepishly. He grins and tugs at the chain, breaking it free and lifting it to examine it.

“Alright, pleasure doin’ business with you, sweetheart.”

Your face burns as you hop out of the truck and walk back up to your parents’ front door, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. Rhett hangs the cross from his rear view mirror — first trophy he’s ever received for losing a bet.

…

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #outer range #outer range smut #lewis pullman

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ereardon · 2 years ago

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A Place Like This [Chapter 2][Rhett Abbott x OC]

Summary: Rhett Abbott has never met a girl like you. You’re a corporate city girl in Wabang on borrowed company time — he thinks there’s no way you would waste it on him. So when you fall for the local bull rider, you’re both a little surprised. What will it take to get Rhett to realize he can give you everything you’re looking for? And will Rhett be able to reconcile the fact that your job is literally to dismantle Wabang and break apart the only place his family has ever known?

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x OC [Julia Han]

WC: 2.9K

Warning: Cursing, implied smut, some violence

Series masterlist here

“Julia, Dan wants to see you in conference room B.”

You tossed your head back with a groan, slipping your heels on beneath your desk and standing up, smoothing down the buttons of your blouse and grabbing your laptop before clicking down the hall, past the row of partners’ offices. The good offices, the ones with windows and built-in bars and a couch to collapse on when you got too piss drunk to possibly take the train home at midnight after a client meeting.

Sliding open the glass door, you cleared your throat.

“Dan? Charles said you asked for me.”

“Julia!” Dan turned his megawatt smile on you. “Take a seat.”

His enthusiasm terrified you. Dan got excited about exactly three things. When the White Sox won, the day his wife signed their divorce settlement and he managed to scrape by without a hefty monthly alimony payment, and acquisitions.

Dan loved the kinds of deals that could blow up in your face. The kind that sucked you dry and left you for the wolves. They were his kryptonite.

“How’s it going?” you asked, taking a seat in a black leather rolling chair, crossing one leg over another.

He lowered himself into the chair next to yours at the head of the table and slid a thin folder over. “Ever been to Wyoming?”

You shook your head. “Never been one for horses. Or cowboys for that matter.”

Dan chuckled. “You might change your mind after spending a few weeks there.”

You sighed and flipped open the folder. “Alright, you have my interest. What is it?”

His eyes sparkled and they told you everything you needed to know about this assignment.

It was going to be bad. People were going to lose their jobs. Maybe they’d even be forced to leave town. You would be a social pariah in a matter of days.

And you were going to make the firm tens of millions of dollars.

***

The town was simple. That was an understatement.

The guy at the airport had apologized profusely when the only rental car left was a slim Honda sedan instead of the luxury model you had made the reservation for.

You had sighed, climbing into the black car, and driving the hour and a half to Wabang. Halfway through, your Spotify bluetooth cut out and you swore, rapping your fingernails against the leather steering wheel.

It was a beautiful drive. You had to give Dan some credit. He could have sent anyone, but he chose you. Wyoming was not part of your normal remit for the firm. You were strictly the midwest agent: Chicago, Minneapolis, Milwaukee.

But you were vying for vice president and he knew it. This was your shot to prove your worth in an office of all white middle aged men. They hadn’t wanted to hire the young female associate. You didn’t fit their mold. You hadn’t gone to Northwestern or UMichigan and been a Tri Delt. You didn’t enjoy the steakhouse, cigars after work and strip club aesthetic that the other partners languished in.

What’s more, you were a woman. A half-Asian woman, no less. Some saw you as a diversity hire. Others said it was the firm finally entering into the twenty-first century. Either way, you had climbed your way up from the bottom. Dan saw it. The other partners did, too.

Some might say the Wyoming deal was to get you out of the office. But you knew what it was. A lifeline. A fast track to partner.

It was your shot.

***

Your corporate housing was a small apartment above the town’s bakery. It smelled like fresh baked bread in the morning and the entire front room was drenched in natural light by early afternoon. You hated that it was lovely, in the most ordinary way.

Wabang was such a different type of assignment that you hadn’t done the correct research before jumping on the flight. It was a jeans and boots kind of town. You stuck out in your Jimmy Choos, St. Johns suits, Chanel flap bag. You stuck out for a lot of reasons.

It was apparent from the moment that you got to town there were a handful of bachelors that had placed you on their radar. Perhaps it was the fact that you were fresh meat. Or that you were one of only a handful of unmarried twenty-something women in a town where the average marriage age was undoubtedly early twenties.

Either way, when a suave-looking blond in a blue button down approached you outside of the local market, his eyes skimming over your dress before landing on your face, white teeth bared in a shockingly luminescent smile, you felt a strange ick wash over you.

“Hello there,” he said, leaning against the brick of the building. “I’m Luke Tillerson.”

You nodded. “Julia Han.”

He smirked. “Where you from, gorgeous? Not from around here, obviously. Would have remembered a thing like you.”

The urge to gag was clear and present, but you choked it down. “Listen, sweetheart, we don’t have to do this. The answer is no and I think we both know it.”

An angry red blush crept over Luke’s chest, up his neck, and you saw his eyes bulge slightly. For a moment, you were almost worried that he might reach out and grab you. There was an air about him that gave you reservation. An instability.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” you followed up quickly, shifting your purse from one side to another, hiking it up on your shoulder. “I’m just in town for a few weeks, tops. I try not to make it a habit of starting things that I can’t follow through with.”

His fists, which had been balled up against his sides, slowly unwound themselves and you watched him take a deep breath. “Alright, darlin’, guess I gotta accept that.”

You smiled. “Nice to meet you, Luke.”

As you turned to walk away, his fingers circled your wrist, tugging you back. A sweat started to break out at your hairline as you turned around, his grip tight and unrelenting. “You change your mind, darlin’, and I’ll be here,” he whispered gruffly, standing so close you could smell his astringent aftershave. “Tillerson ranch. Come by anytime.”

Luke dropped your wrist and you shook it out at your side. You were used to men like him. Men who took because they thought it was owed to them. Men who had never heard the word no before in their lives.

They were dangerous. Almost as dangerous as you.

***

Rhett fiddled with his keys, leaning up against the side of the truck, eyes scanning the main street of Wabang for your signature heels.

The comment you had made as you walked out of the door at the bar the night before terrified him. You terrified him, in a way. In the best way possible.

He needed to know what you meant. Even though a part of him wanted to get away, leave Wabang in the dust, Rhett knew that he would always be inextricably tied to this place. This land. His family was Wabang.

Finally, he spotted you leaving a door near the bakery, dark sunglasses covering most of your face. You had traded in the black heels for a pair of nude ones, and the black dress for a pale blue one that offset your olive skin and dark hair.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk in your direct path and watched as you lifted the sunglasses to the top of your head and smiled, heading his way.

“Rhett,” you said softly and just the sound of your voice sent a jolt of electricity down his spine. “How are you?”

He nodded. “Good,” he whispered gruffly. You took in his hat, worn jeans and boots. It was the morning, still early, and you wondered what exactly he did when he wasn’t riding bulls. “I, uh, I was hoping we could talk again.”

You smiled. “Yeah, sure.”

“Now?” he said, lips curled up in a soft smile. “Diner’s right over there.” He pointed one long finger to a building down the road.

“I actually have a meeting with the Mayor in ten minutes,” you replied. “But I’m free for dinner?”

Rhett felt his chest constrict. He didn’t want to jump the gun and assume it was a date. But the way you were looking at him — sparkling eyes, lips pushed together in a perfect pout. He hoped you meant it as a date. “Yeah, OK,” he nodded. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Alright. I’m staying right down there. Apartment over the bakery.”

Rhett nodded and smiled again. “I’ll be there.”

You slid your sunglasses on and pressed one hand to his muscular bicep, squeezing it gently. “Looking forward to it.”

***

Rhett waited nervously on the sidewalk outside of your apartment. He was early. Royal had asked him to stay late rebuilding a fence but he had brushed his father off, not letting on that he was taking the newcomer out to dinner.

Your arrival in town had whipped up a flurry of rumors, but it appeared that only Rhett knew your true reasoning for appearing in Wabang. The Mayor was notably silent about the fact that a corporation wanted to take over the town. He had failed, and a man like him hated to go down without a fight.

At seven on the dot, he stepped forward and pressed the metal buzzer for the upstairs apartment. Your voice rang through, muffled by the decades old technology. “Coming!”

You swung the door open, almost knocking Rhett off of his feet. He was standing too close to the door, not expecting you to swing it open so violently.

“Shit!” he whispered as the metal nearly skimmed him and you immediately reached out, pressing your hands to his face.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” you said quickly, brushing your fingers across his cheeks and then down his arms, eyes doing a quick assessment. “Are you OK? Did it hit you?”

He smiled and shook his head, a small section of hair falling into his face. He had a quiet way of observing his surroundings and Rhett simply stretched out his fingers, catching your own as your hands slid down his arms, checking for cuts or scrapes. “I’m fine, darlin’,” he murmured.

Rhett gripped one of your hands tightly, leading you out onto the sidewalk into the passenger seat of his truck. He pulled open the door, helping you up, and you smiled, climbing in.

“So where are we going?” you asked once he was settled into the driver’s seat, reversing out of the spot, one hand on the headrest of your seat. You couldn’t help but watch the muscles rippling beneath his clean shirt.

“Restaurant one town over,” he said in his gravelly voice. “‘Bout a ten minute drive.”

“Why one town over?”

Rhett shot you a look, eyebrows raised. “Cause we have some stuff to talk about and I have a feeling you’ll be a little more forthcoming outside of city limits.”

You chuckled and leaned back against the seat. “So you don’t want to be seen with the town pariah?”

“Trust me, a man wants to be seen with a girl like you on his arm.”

***

You ordered a gin and lime over ice, which made Rhett raise his eyebrows. He had you pegged as a red wine girl, or maybe a whiskey sour on a particular night. Not straight gin.

“So, what’s it like being a bull rider?” you asked.

“It’s not important or special, really. Just the one thing I felt like I could do around here.”

“Well it’s interesting to me,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink before leaning forward, sliding your arm around the top of the curved booth backrest, fingers dancing lightly on Rhett’s shoulder.

He blushed. “I’m sure a city girl like you needs a lot more to be impressed,” he said. “Bet I can’t compete with the kinds of guys you’re used to.”

You shook your head. “Those guys are all the same. They’re boring, in the absolutely worst ways.” You skimmed a nail across his shoulder toward the slight curl of hair at the nape of his neck. “So you’re wrong. It doesn’t take more to impress me.”

Rhett could barely focus. His brain was short circuiting as you brushed your fingers across his shoulders and neck. He was acutely aware that you had your legs crossed under the large booth table, one foot wedged tightly beneath his calf.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, feel your warmth under his fingertips, but he stopped himself as the waitress set down your food.

“Tell me why you’re really here.” His voice was low and husky. “The deal, the town.”

You shook your head again. “I said too much last night. It’s business, Rhett. Nothing personal.”

“You can’t drop a bomb like that and walk away.”

There was something in his voice that you couldn’t place. You had read him the moment he came up to you in the bar. He was stuck. But perhaps you had overestimated how much he wanted to leave Wabang.

He was going to take this much more personally than you had hoped.

“Rhett,” you whispered, placing your fork down on the plate and sliding one hand onto his thigh. He froze, blue eyes hooked on yours. “Honey, trust me when I say I don’t like doing this. But I was sent here to do a job. And I have to see it through.”

“But who is the buyer?” he asked. “What does this mean for the town? For my ranch.”

“Your ranch? I thought you said you were a bull rider?”

“My family has a ranch,” he said softly and the realization began to sink in. He was tied to the town in a way you hadn’t imagined. “Abbott ranch, out on Route Eight. Over next to the Tillersons.”

“Tillerson,” you repeated. “Like Luke Tillerson?”

Rhett tensed. “Yeah. You know him?”

“He kind of cornered me the other day. Tried to ask me out and I said no and he didn’t take it too well.”

“What do you mean, didn’t take it too well?”

“Rhett, it’s nothing.”

“Julia, it’s not nothing,” he said, his eyes trained on yours. “What did he do?” His voice was low, venomous. There was something there. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was years of competition and anger boiled down into a volatile slurry. You could almost feel it radiating off of him.

“He asked me out and I said no, that I don’t date while I’m on assignment. And then when I went to walk away he grabbed my wrist, hard, pulling me back. That was it.” You rubbed your fingers softly on his thigh. “Rhett, please, it was nothing. Let’s move on.”

He slammed one fist onto the table, rattling the plates, and you gasped. The other tables around you shot dirty looks, but Rhett looked at the ground, biting his bottom lip.

“Rhett,” you said and the anger in your voice made him look up. “No. We’re not going to do this. Either you let this go or I’m walking away.”

“Shit,” he muttered, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Julia, I’m sorry.” His fingers curled over yours where they sat on his thigh. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

You nodded. “It’s alright.”

As you turned back to your dinner, sliding your hand from his leg, Rhett’s mind jumped in circles. What did you mean you didn’t date people on assignment? What was this dinner if that was the case?

When the waitress dropped off the check, you reached for it and Rhett shot you a look.

“No,” he said forcefully and you hated that it made you wet between your thighs. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “Alright, whatever you say, Rhett.” You didn’t want to point out that you made mid-six figures and he was a bull rider. You got the sense it would be deeply offensive to him if you tried to pay.

Outside, you took a deep breath. The air was so fresh compared to Chicago. Rhett towered over you, even in your heels, one hand pressed against the building wall as he leaned to the side.

“Did you have a nice time?” you whispered.

Rhett nodded, a small smile curving his perfect pink lips. “I did, yeah. Did you?”

He didn’t understand what you were after. What you wanted from him. What you wanted in general. He didn’t understand anything about you. In fact, you terrified him to his core. He had never known a woman like you and that terrified him because all he wanted was to pull you in, press his lips to yours, spend the next fifty years learning every inch of your body with his mouth and hands and mind.

So when you leaned forward and skimmed your hand through his hair near his ear, pulling his neck down, locking your lips against his, his heart threatened to explode from his body.

“Yeah,” you whispered, lips still grazing his. “I had a great time.”

Tag list: @double-j @momc95 @sadpetalsstuff @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @starrynightskyz @writercole @endofdays56 @coffeeandcuriosities @xoxabs88xox

#rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman #series #A Place Like This

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zackcollins · 5 years ago

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life changes || matthew tkachuk

masterlist

Author’s Note: Look. It’s Mother’s Day in Canada and the USA. That’s my only excuse for where this idea came from. I chose Matthew because he was the first player where I knew both of the names of his parents (and his siblings because Brady and Taryn are in this too). GIF credit goes to gustavlindstrom!!

Warnings: Maybe a vague feeling of anxiety?? I mention that both Matthew and the reader are nervous, so I’ll include a warning for that just in case. You can never be too careful, I suppose.

Word Count: 1.1k+

Title: Life Changes by Thomas Rhett

Additional: Feminine reader!! I mention the reader wearing a blouse and a bra, which are usually more feminine things. The premise of the story is also a more feminine topic. I hope that’s okay and hope you enjoy this!!

You were pacing around the bedroom, Matthew sitting on the bed. He had his hands on his knees, running them up and down nervously. You were wringing your hands together as you paced, trying to keep your mind occupied.

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” You asked, stopping by the bedroom door to look back at Matthew.

Matthew stopped moving his hands and sighed. “Yes. Today’s Mother’s Day. It’s the perfect opportunity to tell them.”

You walked over to the bed and sat beside Matthew. Matthew wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. Resting your head on his shoulder, you sighed nervously. This news was something you had been debating telling his family for about a month and a half. Now that you were all quarantined together for the foreseeable future, you needed to tell them soon or they would find out themselves.

Matthew soothed his hand against your upper arm. You hummed, feeling some of your nerves wash away at Matthew’s gentle touch. He turned his head and kissed the top of your head; you hummed again, pressing a kiss to his collarbone in turn.

The two of you sat on the bed like that for a little while, both trying to come to terms with what you were planning to do. Matthew was the first one to move positions. He removed his arm from around you and stretched it in front of him. You leaned up to a straight-up sitting position and turned your head toward Matthew.

“I’ll grab the bag,’ you said, motioning to the closet. “You go round up your parents, Brady, and Taryn.”

Matthew nodded before kissing your forehead. “Meet me in the living room whenever you’re ready.” He brushed a piece of hair out of your face and pressed another kiss to your forehead before standing and exiting the room.

You sat on the bed for a moment, taking a breath to collect yourself. The thought that this was really happening as finally hitting you now that you were alone. You and Matthew were nervous about this; you could only imagine what his family would be feeling when you told them.

After taking one more steadying breath, you stood from the bed and walked to the closet. You pushed all of the clothes out of the way and dug to the very back of the closet. When you hid this bag, you made sure to put it where none of Matthew’s family members would look. Them finding it before either of you were ready to tell them would cause more trouble than it was probably worth.

Taking another steadying breath, you grabbed the bag. Just to make sure, you peaked in the bag to check that everything you had placed in there was still in there. You heaved a sigh when it appeared that nothing was missing.

You pushed all of the clothes back into place and stepped back from the closet. Your blouse and bra had both become askew from the digging around you had done in the closet. After quickly readjusting them, you walked out of the bedroom.

When you got to the top of the stairs, you paused. You heard the voices of Matthew and his family floating up from the living room. That told you Matthew had successfully wrangled all of his family members like you had asked of him. You took a moment to collect yourself before you walked down the stairs.

Keith was the first one to look in your direction. He didn’t show any emotion but that was typical for him. He tended to be subdued with his emotional output. Chantal saw you next; she smiled. Her smile quickly turned to something quizzical when she noticed the bag in your hand.

“What’s that in your hand?” She asked, gesturing toward the bag.

Taryn and Brady looked over from where they had been talking to Matthew. Taryn glanced between you and Matthew and smirked. Brady looked dumbfounded, looking between Keith and Chantal as if they would give him clarification.

“Matthew and I have something to tell everyone,” you said, placing the bag on the coffee table. You sat on the couch beside Chantal and gestured at the bag. “Since it’s Mother’s Day, Chantal can do the honours of opening it.”

Chantal looked between you and Matthew skeptically before grabbing the bag. She removed the tissue paper, placing it on the coffee table. The first thing she grabbed was a Mother’s Day card. Matthew crept over from the chair he had been sitting in and came to sit beside you. You grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly while Chantal opened the card.

“This card is cute,” she said, tracing her finger over the flowers on the front of the card.

Chantal scanned the inside of the card and you heard her gasp. Matthew squeezed your hand again and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Chantal glanced at the two of you and dropped the card onto the coffee table.

“Oh, Matthew, (Y/N),” she said, wrapping her arms around the both of you.

“There’s more in there,” Matthew said, motioning toward the bag as best as he could.

Pulling back from the hug, Chantal wiped her eyes and grabbed the bag again. Reaching inside, she rustled around for a minute. When she pulled her hand out, she was holding two attached photos. She squealed as she looked at them.

“Mom?” Brady sounded confused beyond belief. “Is everything okay?”

Instead of answering verbally, Chantal turned the photos around to allow everyone else in the room to see. Brady gasped and jumped up from the chair he was sitting in to rush over to you and Matthew.

The first thing he did was wrap you and Matthew up in his massive embrace. You leaned back into the embrace, feeling tears start to prickle the corners of your eyes. You even heard Matthew sniffle as Brady continued to embrace the two of you.

When Brady unwrapped his arms from around the two of you, he wiped his eyes. You smiled up at him and patted his hip reassuringly. Brady squeezed your shoulder before he went back to his chair and sat down.

Taryn glanced at Keith. She had a smile on her face while Keith looked a little grumblier than usual. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it, fished out a bill, and placed it on the coffee table. Taryn jumped up from her seat and snatched the bill. Everyone else in the room blinked, confused as to what happened.

“We made a bet,” Taryn said, stuffing the bill into her own wallet. “$50 to whoever guessed what the big news was.”

Matthew opened his mouth to say something but Keith swearing stopped him. Everyone turned their attention toward him and noticed that he was holding the pictures in his hand. He placed them on the coffee table and circled his finger around the middle of the second picture.

“I’m going to be a grandpa to twins?!”

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becausethathappens · 2 years ago

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Twitter - 1/2/2023

#he's so cute #fuck #rhett and his blouses #those CURLS #the mclaughlins #she's right and she should say it

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tabloidtoc · 6 years ago

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Closer, June 10

Cover: Fred and Adele Astaire’s amazing untold story

Page 1: Contents

Page 2: The Big Picture -- Eartha Kitt as Catwoman and Adam West as Batman on the set in 1967

Page 4: Ellen DeGeneres signs on for three more seasons

Page 5: Blythe Danner on dating as a single grandma, Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio impressed with Burt Reynolds and Luke Perry

Page 6: Rare showbiz treasures go up for auction

Page 7: Hellos & Goodbyes

Page 8: Picture Perfect -- Halle Berry and Anjelica Huston and James Corden

Page 9: Emma Thompson

Page 10: Martin Sheen and Jane Fonda, Leslie Mann, Jessica Chastain and Sophie Turner

Page 12: Rod Stewart

Page 13: Kelly Clarkson, Padma Lakshmi, Angela Bassett

Page 14: Vanna White, Sara Haines and Amy Robach, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townsend of The Who and Jimmy Fallon

Page 16: Kate Middleton -- how she’s raising happy kids

Page 18: Cover Story -- Fred and Adele Astaire -- Fred’s greatest dance partner was his sister Adele

Page 22: Lee Majors -- The Farrah Fawcett only I knew

Page 24: John Wayne’s legacy lives on

Page 27: Spot the Difference -- Mae Whitman and Christina Hendricks and Retta on Good Girls

Page 29: Horoscopes -- Gemini Michael J. Fox

Page 30: Entertainment -- Designated Survivor, Ask Dr. Ruth, In the Spotlight -- Ben Kingsley

Page 32: Movies -- Elton John and Taron Egerton on Rocketman

Page 33: Music -- Thomas Rhett on Center Point Road

Page 34: Television

Page 36: Great Escape -- Samantha Harris in Cape Cod

Page 40: 5 tips for more youthful skin, Salma Hayek

Page 42: Whatever happened to the cast of The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour -- Dick Smothers, Tom Smothers, Bob Einstein, Pat Paulsen, Mason Williams

Page 43: It Happened This Week

Page 44: Michael Emerson on finding happiness with great roles and his wife Carrie Preston

Page 48: Rodney Dangerfield -- His long road to respect

Page 50: 5 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Reese Witherspoon

Page 52: Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart -- How we make our marriage work

Page 54: The style of Christie Brinkley

Page 56: Beauty -- Smoky brown eye makeup -- Diane Kruger

Page 58: My Life in 10 Pictures -- Kathleen Turner

Page 60: Flashback -- Spotted puffy blouses on Princess Diana in 1985 and Miley Cyrus now, Beverly Hills 90210 in 1990 and now, sparkling headwear on Cher in 1999 and Jennifer Lopez now

#tabloid #fred astaire #adele astaire

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totallyrhettro · 6 years ago

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Territorial, chapter 25

Word Count: 2389 Rating: This chapter: PG-13. Overall story rating: explicit Warnings: Forced Human Captivity, Torture Summary: After finally realizing their shared love for one another, all internetainers Rhett and Link had to do was live happily ever after. Unfortunately, as it turns out, that’s a lot harder to do in a world of werewolves. Notes: Takes place 1 year after Animalistic began. Still no wives; Rhett and Link are in an established relationship. This is a sequel to that fic. You don’t have to read that first, but it is highly recommended.

Also available on a03

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Night was falling again. Rhett gazed longingly through the bars of the window above him, up at the moon that he could just barely see from his prison in the Lowell’s basement. How he wished he could be out in the field of his home-away-from-home, the farmhouse that he and Link had fixed up together. He would have given anything to be there with his love right now. There, where he and Link had spent so many hours together just to the two of them, where they could well and truly be free. It seemed a lifetime ago. It seemed a dream that such paradise could ever have existed. Maybe it was a dream, a fantasy Rhett had constructed when he was lost and could never profess his love to the man he had known almost his entire life. A time when he could be open and truthful, when Link had loved him back. Had any of it been real? In this dungeon, far away from anything he knew or cared about, Rhett wasn’t so sure.

“I hope you’re awake,” came his torturer’s voice. Rhett didn’t turn from the moon, the only thing of the outside world he had left. He didn’t move a single muscle as he heard Caleb crossed the small room with overly confident steps. All the hope in his heart was quickly fading, hope of rescue, hope of escape. It all seemed to wither and die as the cruel man behind him got closer. “I’d hate for you to miss all the fun.”

“Come to torment me some more?” There was no fear in Rhett’s voice as he asked, no irritation. It was a question, nothing more. Rhett was too tired, emotionally and physically, to offer anything else. If his lack of reaction bothered Caleb, he showed no sign. Instead he ignored the question completely.

“It won’t be long now,” he commented, seeing the moonlight shining through the tiny window. “You must be itching to change.”

“Any sign of Theo?” Rhett asked, with a slight hint of taunt. He was able to feel a meager sense of accomplishment when Caleb didn’t answer for awhile. Another small victory. He flinched when a loud bang echoed through the room, and a sharp vibration shook his cage. Instinctively he turned to see Caleb, folding chair in hand, standing before him. His eyes were filled with rage, his face slightly flush. Rhett was certain he was going to hit the cage again but somehow he was able to contain himself and, instead, tossed the chair aside.

“I’m giving you one last chance, McLaughlin,” he warned, pointing a shaking finger at Rhett’s face. “Tell me where the mutts are or I swear I will personally find your Link friend and flay him alive.” Adrenaline coursed through Rhett’s body anew, waking up his fear response and making his entire body shake. He was afraid, he was furious, and he couldn’t take much more. Caleb was also furious, but his hatred could not hope to match that in Rhett’s heart for anyone that dared hurt his precious Link.

“You will not touch Link,” he growled, quiet but fierce. “If you do you better hope to God I die in here or I swear…” As he spoke he could feel the change happening. It was faster than ever before and it hurt like hell, but he didn’t care. He gripped the bars of his cage as his fingers turned to claws, standing taller as his long legs grew even longer. The long snout of a werewolf jutted from between the bars and he spat out the last of his threat. “I will tear out your throat myself.” His now-golden eyes flashed their fury at his captor who watched on with a very satisfied grin, yet there was hint of fear in his face as well. Rhett was a giant as a man; as a werewolf he was enormous and a sight to behold. Caleb had wanted to push him this far, and he had succeeded. Still, part of him couldn’t help but be terrified.

This was not Rhett. As he came to his full werewolf height, over ten and a half feet tall easy, and his borrowed slacks burst at the seams. His shaggy, sandy-colored fur stood on end, and his huge maw snarled and drooled. Rabid and savage, Rhett was not in control. The wolf inside him wasn’t in control either as his body contorted between human and animal. Neither could hold back their shared contempt of the man before them. Both wanted to hurt him- one wanted to eat him- and together they were a mass of rage and fury. They swiped through the bars, just barely missing Caleb as he jumped back, his own transformation barely beginning. He chuckled, nervously.

“Look at you,” he scoffed. “For all your talk, stubbornness, you’re nothing more than a feral junkyard dog.” With a slight strut, he circled the cage, heading towards the crank. “Put a chain around your neck and you can guard my lawn.” Rhett lashed out at him again as he got close, but the handle on the crank was long enough that Caleb could turn it without worry, even with a werewolf of Rhett’s size. “Maybe you should calm down a bit.” With a grunt he turned the crank hard, lowering the spike-lined roof of the cage unto his prisoner’s head. Rhett howled in pain, but didn’t calm down. He bent down, getting as far away from the spikes as he could, but he continued to snarl violently at his captor. Caleb lowered the roof further until there was no where for the werewolf to hide.

Like a tornado caught in a windtunnel, Rhett tore at the cage- the bars, the floor, even the spikes themselves, desperate and mindless. In his fit he even tried to use his teeth against the cage, but he only managed to hurt himself in the process. Still he continued to thrash about until he was bloodied and tired. Only then did he quiet down. Only then did his form finally meld completely into wolf. Panting, he could only lay down and stare at Caleb who looked far too pleased with himself.

“There,” he smirked. “Isn’t that better?” Stepping away, and with great effort, Caleb changed back into his fully human form. “I’ll be sad when our time together is over,” he added, stepping over to his crucible and the molten silver within. “You’ve been more fun than most.” Taking a large brush, he submerged the bristles in the metallic substance, carefully wiping away the excess onto the sides of the container. Then, walking back to the cage, he carefully began to brush on the silver to each and every spike. It was a light coating, but enough to really hurt the next time the spikes dug into Rhett’s flesh. Enough to kill him if they buried deep enough.

With one last chuckle he left the room to complete his change. Rhett was left to lick his wounds, literally and figuratively. The cuts and bruises would heal quickly, but in the end his fighting at been a fruitless endeavor, his rage had been for naught. There was nothing more he could do but wait.

~ ~ ~

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Grace asked. Link took a deep breath and let it out slowly: his vain attempt at trying not to sigh from hearing Theo’s words echoed by his new friend. Luckily it just looked like he was revving himself up.

“Positive,” he assured her, not losing stride. The two of them crossed Grace’s lawn to the very edges of her property. She was holding a dufflebag and some folded-up woolen fabric, that she had yet to explain to Link, and he had a small, hooded lantern to light their path. It cast an eerie glow on the dirt road before them. “There’s no other way.” Nodding, and holding the fabrics a bit closer to her chest, Grace didn’t ask again. Clearly Link had been asked enough times and his mind was set.

Once they reached the treeline, Link set the lamp on the ground and Grace handed him one of the strange bundles of fabric. He began unfolding it, curious and confused.

“Blankets?” he assumed, recalling how Rhett and he always changed under the full moon.

“Changing clothes,” she explained, unfolding her own. It took Link a few seconds to recognize the brown, square cloth. He made a slightly amused face before turning and raising an eyebrow at his companion.

“A poncho?” Grace giggled.

“It’s perfect for werewolves.” She slipped the fuzzy fabric over her head with a grin. “When the change comes, you don’t tear apart your favorite blouse, and once you’re done you can just take it off.” Fumbling under the poncho, she began to remove her clothes and gently placing them aside.

“Oh! I get it.” The poncho provided a warm modesty screen that wouldn’t get torn to shreds during the change. It was a brilliant idea and for a moment Link thought about telling Rhett as soon as he saw him. Thinking of Rhett, of course, reminded Link that he had to find the man first. The sun was getting low and Grace was almost done undressing. Link made quick of his own clothes to follow suit.

Once they were dressed only in their large ponchos, the two of them sat on the grass side by side. Grace zipped open her bag and pulled out a number of things for tonight’s change. A small tape player, with slow, calming music; an incense burner, which once lit emitted a soothing, herbal scent that didn’t bother Link’s sensitive nose; and finally a small, wooden statue of a wolf lying on its front paws. She set up everything with practiced care, making sure the music was at the perfect volume, that the wolf was perfectly positioned. Once she was certain the meditation area was set up just right, she turned to face Link.

“I know you’re under a lot of stress right now,” she began, knowing that it was understatement to say so. “But if you want to control your wolf under the moonlight, you need to remain calm during the change. Even during the night, if you let your emotions rule you, the wolf can very easily take over.” Link nodded, understanding. “Are you ready to start?”

“I’m ready.” Grace closed her eyes and Link did the same. He didn’t need to see right now; he could feel the entire world around him, sense every movement, hear every sound. The wolf was close to the surface, he could feel it. It made him anxious but it also gave him strength, kept all his senses sharp and keen. This just made him feel on edge, however, like he was constantly in the ‘flight or fight’ response mode. Normally Rhett was with him, keeping him safe and calm. Since his disappearance, Link and his wolf never felt either.

“Aright,” his new friend began. “I want you to focus on your breathing. Feel it being pulled in your lungs, and slowly being released back into the atmosphere. Listen to it flowing through your nose, in and out. In and out.” Link took deep, cleansing breaths, pushing out the noises and the smells that constantly berated his very essence, and thought about nothing but his breathing. He was doing very well- for about thirty seconds. Then his mind snapped back to Rhett; where he was, what was being done to him. As soon as he realized this was counterproductive, he cleared his throat and started again.

“Don’t get frustrated,” Grace instructed, gently. “Relax, and try to calm your heart. I can hear it pounding from here.” Link put a palm to his chest. His heart was racing quite fast, and he didn’t doubt Grace’s keen werewolf ears could hear it clearly.

“I’m trying,” he explained. “I can’t stop thinking about Rhett-”

“I know, but if you want to find him you have to clear your mind of him.” She gave him a very sympathetic look before quipping “If you love him, stop thinking about him.”

‘Easier said than done,’ Link noted, internally. Still, despite his doubts and fears, he did his very best to put them aside and clear his mind of all distractions. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Over and over he did this. When his thoughts turned away from the task at hand, he put them back on track. Soon he did feel calmer, but they weren’t done yet. After about twenty minutes he felt a new distraction. New, but all too familiar; an itch that started on his chest and spread over his entire body. Link tried to ignore the sensation, but things were just getting started.

“As the moon rises, so does the will of the beast,” Grace was saying, keeping her eyes closed. “The wolf is always inside you, Link, but most of the time you are in control. For weeks the wolf is subject to your will, and now he wants to come out. Don’t try to force him down, for his anger is fierce. He is untamed, but he can be coaxed. Breath in the night, drink in the moon.” Leaning his head back, Link could feel the warmth of the full moon on his skin, almost as if it were the bright midday sun. He let the cool night air wrap around him, like a blanket, as the moonlight shone down from above. It was a strange mix of hot and cold, two complete opposites coming together in perfect harmony. He wasn’t sure why he’d never felt them this way before.

His body began to change, but this time he felt no fear. He welcomed the change; the surge in power, the rise of fortitude. He embraced the change completely, letting his body twist and morph to whatever form it desired. As his arms and legs grew longer, as the fur spread across his skin, he didn’t even open his eyes. The feeling of his spine extending and curving into new shapes didn’t scare him. The knowledge that he was becoming more monstrous by the second gave him no pause. He let it happen and within seconds his transformation was complete. The wolf and Link were one.

Next Chapter More fics

#rhett #link #rhink #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #werewolves #territorial

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lovelyrhink · 7 years ago

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rhett didn’t mean to get this drunk. in fact, he hadn’t planned on celebrating the holiday at all. he has more scottish blood in him than irish, anyway.

it was jessie’s idea to hit the bars. rhett, his best friend, link, and their wives, had been newly married for a handful of years, not far enough away from college to want to stop drinking altogether, but too into remodeling their new homes to spend very much time at pubs or parties. so, when jessie lamented how the four of them only ever just “ate dinner together,” and how she wanted to “go out for once,” rhett had no choice but to throw on a green flannel and black jeans, order a cab, and haul the other three along with himself downtown.

the first bar was a bust. it was all college kids that looked way too young, with alcohol that tasted just a touch too green, and once three separate blondes flirted at link, christy hauled him by the ear to the next pub.

that’s where they are now, two hours into the night, all four of them blasted off their asses. rhett hadn’t thought he’d get this drunk, but blinking through the swimming colors dancing just beyond his eyelashes, he thinks maybe it’s not such a bad thing. he’s with the three people he loves most, he’s safe, and most importantly, link’s having fun.

link and christy had been fighting earlier in the month, but as he watches them now, link pressed flat to her back, hands on her hips and lips at her ear, hips swaying tipsy to the cover artist coming through the gritty bar stereo, rhett knows this is good for them. smiling at the both of them, rhett searches for his own wife and finds her alone, drink in hand, swishing her dark hair all over the place in what he assumes to be a white woman’s attempt at rhythm.

rhett smiles at that, too, and reaches for his drink. he doesn’t need anymore, really, but he’s gonna drink it anyway. he takes a swig, sweet whiskey (he grew tired of green foam real quick), and slides the glass to the bartender. “another,” he slurs, and he’s not sure if the tender makes a comment about his pretty dark-haired wife or not, but it doesn’t matter. once his glass is full, he makes his way to her all the same.

drunk, jessie’s got pink cheeks and a few blouse buttons undone. her satin olive blouse looks so pretty against her tan skin, and it’s only a sultry look before she’s pulling rhett down by the back of the neck for a whiskey-hot kiss, his hands immediately finding her waist.

rhett can’t remember how they get to the next bar. he can’t count the number of bodies, the decorative shamrocks, or the gold coin confetti which seems to drift down from nowhere. rhett can’t remember how he and link broke off from the girls and got their own table, or how he began rambling about what could have been. his face is hot and his hands are sweaty, but link’s there, across the table, smiling that crinkly, drunken grin. he remembers that grin. rhett can’t remember most of the night, but he can remember wanting link to keep smiling like that, smile like that forever, baby, your face looks so good. rhett thinks link’s so handsome, always has been, and tonight, he lets himself follow that thought.

yeah, rhett lets himself. he lets himself call for another drink, a seltzer water this time; lets himself gaze fondly at his best friend, pining for something just a bit out of reach.

and when rhett looks over at the girls, pretty, there at the bar all dolled up in green and gold; when he catches jessie’s hand sneaking ‘cross christy’s thigh, something a little too playful in her eyes, well...

rhett lets himself mirror the movement, reaching ‘cross the table and taking link’s hand. and when link locks with his eyes, flicks his tongue, and squeezes back, rhett’s glad he came out tonight.

buzzed and brave in the heart, rhett lets himself love sloppily, spilling over to accommodate for all four of them, like too much alcohol and too little hesitance to chase what’s right in front of him.

#rhink #headcanons #polyamory #mythical ot4 #happy st paddy’s day!!#i definitely didnt hide in the stockroom and write this at work #((i definitely did))

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requicms · 7 years ago

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“ i remember our first kiss. ” rhett & kyra

The night sky was pitch black.

On nights like these, she missed the sky above Mumbai the most. She couldn’t find a single star on the horizon, no matter how hard she tried to find one. There was a single plane flying above her head, a million miles above the ground – but no stars. It made her feel even lonelier than she already did.

It was cold, too. She regretted wearing nothing but the sleeveless yellow blouse that was so thin it easily felt as if she wasn’t wearing anything in the first place. Her arms were covered in goosebumps, as they rested on her knees. She didn’t know for how long she had been sitting there, on the small staircase in front of her house, with Rhett by her side. So close their sides were almost touching, but not yet close enough. Lily was upstairs in bed, but somehow they ended up here instead of her going back inside, and him going back home.

“I remember our first kiss,” she whispered, eventually cutting through the silence. “Do you?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she simply turned her head to look at him. Her hair was dancing on a soft breeze, one that only caused her to shudder even more. “I wore this blouse,” she recollected, tugging at the flimsy fabric covering her upper body. “I remember how tightly you held onto me. I remember that my heart was beating so fast, I thought I might faint any second. And all I could think was, Please kiss me, please just kiss me. And you did. And it was the best kiss I ever had. I was so happy. I was so stupidly, undeniably happy. And I couldn’t stop kissing you. I just kissed you over and over again until I was breathing like I’d just ran a marathon. I really thought it could go on like that forever.”

There was a distinct burn in her eyes, one she knew all too well these days. She looked at Rhett for a moment longer, before she turned her head to glance back up into the night sky, as if it had any answers for all the questions running through her head. “How did we end up here, Rhett?” ( @emilyratajkcwski )

#emilyratajkcwski #( memes. )#( rhett && kyra. )#( my life was better with you in it. )

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the-deadly-sins-rp · 7 years ago

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Where’s the fun without a bit of risk? - JK Rowling

Availability: OPEN

Name: Ava Cari Species: First Vampire (Immune) Loyalty: Wrath mafia Objects (owned but not affected by): Spectacles of Envy and Watch of Sloth Special Skill: [Player’s Choice] Title/job: Dealer Age: 573 (Looks 20) Birthday: [Player’s Choice] Suggested FC: Dakota Fanning Alternative FC’s: Elle Fanning, AnnaSophia Robb Gender: Cis female Pronouns: she/her Sexuality: [Player’s Choice]

Biography:

TW: Blood and gore. Ritualistic blood bathing. Vampire-centric violence including death and blood drinking. Child abandonment.

The births of Ava and her sister, Aya, are something of legend, a story told over the centuries as only of myth and fairy tail. What so few understand though, is that they’re not just stories. It’s all true, from the infamously bloody names in their lineage that still strike fear into people’s hearts centuries later, to the story of how their mother bathed in the blood of virgins, even during her pregnancy, and bathed her two twin baby girls in it after their birth. It’s all true. Every last detail of it.

Life was quite enjoyable, until they were forced to leave the castle, their mother cackling hysterically as they locked her away, and Ava and Aya knew their pretense of nonexistence, of pretending to be servants when people visited the castle, wouldn’t last. Aya was always the more practical of the two, so Ava didn’t argue much, except to complain about the climate in whichever country they’d landed in. Aya really did need to stop taking them to such cold places.

As time wore on, and perhaps it was because they moved around so much that they didn’t realize, they came to discover that their bodies had ceased aging around the human age of twenty. When it came to continuing on their bloodlines, to creating new vampires, they discovered the strangest thing: Aya was able to give birth, while Ava seemed to be infertile. Contrastly, Ava could turn a person into a vampire with a single bite, while Aya’s bite did nothing other than cause a mildly irritating rash.

The first experiments in both went as differently as could be expected. The first child that Aya carried to term turned out to be a strangely gentle and needy creature. They only put up with the girl for as long as was necessary to hope that she could continue their bloodline, perhaps with better results, and left her. The first human that Ava turned though, went from a frightened, meek thing to a bloodthirsty animal. It was a beautiful scene to watch, and Ava had been giggling the entire time as she watched him descend onto a group of hikers in the forest, ripping them apart and feasting on their blood as though he were within inches of starving to death.

After that, children were born and adults turned, even a few children and teenagers, just for the sheer fact that their parents had pissed Ava off. It was a game, more often than not, to turn a person and watch the chaos that would ensue. Like having access to her own personal entertainment whenever she liked. And it continued that way for a few decades as they moved around, until one day Aya decided that they were seeking out a place called Isle Cruento, where dark creatures roamed free and magical little things granted power and gruesome death. It sounded like a fairyland.

When they arrived, Ava realized she’d been close to correct. Chaos reigned everywhere, not only just from the creatures or what the people there called the Objects of Deadly Sin. Unrest came in all forms, driven by all people, from the overpowering government agency that meant to take over the island and rule it as they saw fit, to the families that claimed the right to the island, and to the Objects. Bloodline families, they called themselves. Others called them mafias. Either name fit them properly, really. And it was the Wrath bloodline, the Ira family, that Aya decided they would be attached to. Ava didn’t mind so much in any case, but she rather liked the family. They were as mischievous as she was, even if they tended to have anger management problems. She quite liked that about them.

Over the years, she grew close to every member of the Ira family, learning tricks from them, and sometimes teaching them her own. They were the closest thing she and Aya had to a family since leaving the castle, and Ava hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted that. They were called Dealers, officially, but they did much more than normal Dealers on the island did. They sought out people that owed debts, or stole Objects from other bloodlines for leverage. They also made bodies disappear, or reappear, as it were. Not long ago, Ava and Aya traveled to America to fetch an illegitimate child of Wrath, whom they had discovered had been given up for adoption by his mistress.

Holidae Rhett returned to Isle Cruento, to his home, and was trained by Ava and Aya to take his rightful place one day as the next Wrath. While Aya spent time preparing the boy in plans and information, in the political tactics of every other mafia and how to work with them, Ava taught him how to channel his anger into something more productive. Into fighting styles and techniques. He picked up on it all very quickly, and even more than that, he picked up on Ava and Aya quickly as well. Ava knew it made her sister uneasy, but she couldn’t help but be fascinated by the fact that in the centuries they had served under at least a dozen Wraths, known at least a hundred members of the Ira family, this boy was the only one who could tell the twins apart, every time without error.

Ava questioned him regularly about the differences he noted, and would try to fool him, but she never could. She fooled everyone else, quite easily actually. She made a game of it when people mistook her for Aya, acting horrified when someone would suggest that she go and kill a person who owed a debt to the Ira family. She’s been known to scream, cry and run erratic circles around the room when this happens, always breaking down into fits of laughter moments later when Aya approaches the person, glaring at her sister as she explains the mix-up, as well as Ava’s odd sense of humor.

It’s been several years since Holidae has taken up the moniker of Wrath, and Ava wouldn’t admit to Aya that he is probably her favorite of the Wraths they have worked for. She sees him as a little brother in a way, raised and trained by their hands, and knowing them, or at least telling them apart, better than anyone they’ve known since leaving the castle so many centuries ago. In other ways, Aya has accused her of treating him like their family puppy, far more amused than she should be at his angry and violent outbursts.

Recently though, there’s been outside forces attacking along with those internal. Specifically, the family’s original Gun of Wrath was stolen, and Ava and Aya found it in possession of an odd young man, with an accent eerily close to the one that Wrath had when the twins found him in America. When they presented the culprit, thief most likely, before Wrath, neither of them expected the look of shocked recognition on his face. He knew this man.

Personality:

Ava is at the same time both bubbly and vicious. She loves playing games and finding amusement in the smallest of things, though her favorite form of amusement is typically in some fashion watching or participating in the brutal death of an odd bystander. It’s both a curious and off-putting thing to see her giggling, blood dripping from her lips from her most recent meal. She’s devoted to her job, though in a different way than Aya is. While Aya sees their positions as those of agreed upon terms and conditions to be fulfilled, Ava sees it as the job of family. And she will do anything to protect family.

Appearance:

If a person were to look at Ava’s closet, they would think it was a closet shared by several people. When she is working close to her sister, particularly in the Wrath Manor, she will dress in vintage, elegant clothing that is reminiscent of her sister’s. It makes it far easier to trick people into believing she is Aya, and plays well into the part of creeping people out when they see the pair together, dressed in clothing from centuries ago, perhaps with a blood stain or two upon their blouses from lunch. When she feels the need to sneak off on her own though, or is simply lounging about in her room by herself, she dresses in more modern clothes. She enjoys trying out different styles and trends that come and go through the years, finding the odd fashion choices that people make to be oddities in themselves.

Inciting Incident:

Tensions are high, and threats abound in the Wrath mafia. Never has there been such resentment to the current Wrath as there has been recently from Hayes directed at her half-brother. No matter what Aya claims, Ava knows it is their duty to protect the current Wrath head, even if that be from his own blood. The only problem is, Ava knows that if the time came that she would need to intervene, she may have to fight her own sister to do it.

Connections:

Identical twin of Aya Cari

Works for Wrath (Holidae Rhett Ira)

Acquaintance of Ezaz Jeremiah De Voux

Indifferent to Hayes Ira

Three Headcanons:

[Player’s Choice]