#also for those of you unaware the 20 bucks line is because sharky has a bit of dialogue

[cullxtheherd]

Dammit, I'm too soft and need my comfort boys now! 😭

Can I get “No one’s kissed me like that in a long time.” for Sharky, my dear pyromaniac boy? ❤

hell yeah you friggin can!!! thank, thank, thank you for sending me this ask!! i haven't proofread SHIT!! i took my medicaiton and i need a nap!!! asakdjskdsk this is uh? what most would call NSFW, enjoy!

“Woah, woah Chica-” Charlemagne grips the condensation laden bottle by its end and its past peeling sticker. The texture lies somewhere between off putting and comforting and he runs the pad of his thumb over one of the wrinkled corners, “Hold on now I-hCc!” Despite being a well seasoned drinker something must not have sat right with him this evening and he hiccups twice before he can continue.

“What was I sayin’?'' It comes out as one word on one hopps laden breath and he refocuses on his drinking partner for the time being, “Oh, yeah!” He hikes a finger into the air vaguely in her direction with one eye half closed, leaning on the rounded edge of the bartop, “We hardly even know each other, Little Miss!” With the bottle halfway to his lips he abruptly stops, one finger uncurling to point at her as well, “And I do declare-hmnn-hmm-hmm!”

Sharky can’t hardly help himself on a good day and he starts laughing. First he does try to subdue it, face pinching with the effort but he does release a painful snort, “I’m sorry,” He tries between a hoot, “I can’t even take my own damn self seriously- did you hear what I was even trying to say? I mean, woo-hoo!” He laughs again at the thought, cheeks and neck reddening with rising hilarity, “Me. Charlemagne Victor Boshaw the FOURTH!! Tellin’ an interested woman what’s for.”

“Well, I mean!” He realizes himself too late and he sputters trying to backtrack, bottle at his lips for a swish before he continues, “That is not to say that I am assumin’ nothin’ when it comes to that or you and me- and hey!” Feeling like he’s really only caught his first good, decent look at his comrade for the night, he tries to concentrate around the blurred, starry edges of his vision. “Hang on now, you remind me of somebody.” His face screws up in a look of near constipation, gears grinding and turning - trying desperately to form a single, cognitive thought, “I know you…”

“Aww,” Her voice is low and pitying, sickeningly sweet, “Sharky.” Tinged with a hint of hopeful disappointment, “You should just stop thinking.” She swivels in her seat, one leg folded neatly over the other and a halo of blonde shining under the overhead lights, “Just,” She inches closer, just slightly, forever luring him in but never setting the hook, “Hush that pretty head of yours and have another drink. It is,” The lines around her eyes set when she giggles far more youthful than her appearance, “On the house, after all.”

“Yeah,” He agrees though he isn’t particularly thirsty and when a bottle is pressed to his lips he takes a lengthy swig, fully trusting the woman he’s been speaking to. “I should,” So entranced is he that he hardly realizes the switch off. New bottle, different shape, “You’re right.” Directly from her hands to his mouth this time. “That’s an excellent idea-” He wants to elaborate but the thoughts leave him and he watches, happily, as someone he is sure he should know briefly interrupts their little two-person soirée.

“Yes,” He catches her saying, “Yes Father.”

The way she looks up at him with an unmatched, heady desire sparks a tight, hateful twinge somewhere deep within him and suddenly, without thought or warning, he’s getting up out of his seat- nearly jumping backwards off of his bar stool. He doesn’t say anything but he holds himself on edge, breath heavy and chest tight. Ready for what, he isn’t sure.

His new friend gets up as well. Slowly and placatingly she approaches him. Tiptoeing barefoot around the toppled stool she rests on her heels in front of him, pads of her pointers tracing the raised, bubble lettering of his sweatshirt. “Shame,” She sounds sad and heartbroken as she looks up at him through her lashes, “Things were going so well, wouldn’t you say?”

Though he is struggling through the haze, trying to break free from the control she has on him he finds himself nodding along, mouth opening, “Yes, I would.”

“Tonight was going to be the night, Charlemagne,” There is an almost supernatural, haunting tone to her voice that coats him to his very soul- viscous and charming is she, “The. Night.” She pouts feigning a sob into his chest and, despite the dread creeping in he embraces her, palms smoothing over the lines of her gauzy, lace dress. “Do you understand what that means?”

Sharky doesn’t respond verbally but his fingers tighten, digging into the curve of her shoulders underneath a layer of fabric that reminds him of the floral doilies his grandmother kept on surfaces around her home.

“You and me, together,” Though he is gaining his wits his heart aches for that statement, “Forever.” She spins once, heavenly, between his arms and humming, “It could be Bliss, you know.”

She looks up at him and though he knows he should make a move to run- leave this place and never look back, he dips his head instead. When their lips meet it is other-worldly. Charlemagne feels like blasting off into space with Larry and whatever that damn computer's name is he’s always talking about.

Though they are by no means alone, anything rooted in reality ceases to exist for him. They could be in the middle of a field, tornado overhead- bottom of a mountain with an avalanche barrelling down and he would be none the wiser. Sharky had never been one to buy into the whole ‘time stops’ theory when it came to being with another person and sharing intimacy, but? He is becoming a believer as the seconds tick by.

When they pull apart, each of their chests heaving for breath he takes a long, wisened look at her. This is? The enemy. Without a doubt- make no mistakes about it. This is wrong.

She opens her mouth to say something but unthinking and working solely on drive Charlemagne pushes forward, rearing her into the wall of, what he is now aware is, not a licensed retail establishment. The bus turned Peggie jungle gym decorating the center of Moonflower Trailer Park creaks and groans with the voracity in which he attaches himself to her.

In the many times he’d dared to imagine a similar scenario he at least envisioned some kind of refusal or rebuttal from the female Herald but she leans into him, eager to respond. Sharky pulls away, flustered lips biting a line down the side of her mouth to her chin. At her neck he particularly digs in, hands tying into her hair tightly.

“No one’s kissed me like that in a long time,” She’s a mixture of cross and ashamed, hands wrung tightly in the curled hairs at the nape of his neck, “Bastard.”

“Should leave you with a little somethin’ for Padre Joe, in that case.” He moves in as her mouth opens to object, teeth rough on the tender bend of her neck. A hand travels the curve of her ass, bringing her in closely as she responds.

“Sharky . . .”

He’s never heard a creature as ethereal as her breathless before and it takes battling an excellent sense of self preservation to make a line of mottled, swollen hickeys in every tender, erogenous zone he can manage to get to. “You like that?” As the Bliss really begins to leave him he does have the sense to start getting angry with her and her tricks despite their current entanglement.

She nods her agreement, little huffs of air tickling the short hairs on the side of his neck but it isn’t quite the type of affirmation he’s looking for.

“Let’s see, then.” With nearly any other woman he would likely not be this assertive but this is the second time she’s tried to drug him and take advantage of him to get him to join their stupid wacky cult and? He’s not concerned about pleasantries or anything resembling normalcy. The hand at her rear ruchs up the back of her dress just enough so that he can trace the outline of her panties freely before snaking a finger inside, “Oh, yeah?”

She has the decency to look embarrassed and he smiles wide, pleased, “You get all hot and bothered thinkin’ of ways to get me to say Yes, don’t you?”

“I-” He shifts, moving to bring his hand to a more advantageous position and she makes a noise of protest, “No!”

Sharky raises a brow at her and the way her barefoot slaps the ground in rebuttal, “You sure about that?” Reaching between them he adjusts himself, purposefully slow to return his hand to the apex of her thighs. Alight with joy at the look of frustration it causes he relents, “Now,” The decommissioned school bus creaks when she tries to vy for leverage against his slow, lapping movements, “Think real hard before you answer me-”

“Yes! I do- I,” Rachel cuts herself off sucking in a large, shaking breath, “Ohh! I love thinking of ways to bring you down, Sinner! I- mmm!”

Charlemagne laughs silently, eyes creasing up in the direction of the moonlight. Toeing the line of stern and gentle he leans in, lips and tongue and careful teeth against her. Two small, hot hands grip the width of his wrist, keeping him there, when he tries to adjust his stance and he grins against her, sickeningly glad to know he is doing well for her.

Nose against the shell of her ear and mouth working on and off in time with his digits he speaks gently this time, starkly aware of what her reality must be, “How long has it been since a man treated you right?” Apparently unable to speak, she shakes her head in the negative, teeth pinching her lower lip, “Never?”

“Shut up,” She barely manages.

“What?”

“I said shut up and fuck me, Charlemagne!”

His entire face screws up at that, her hazy spell broken. “No,” Sharky removes himself from her, head shaking in the negative, “Don’t think I will. Go home, Faith.”

“You can’t just stick your fingers in a woman and then tell her to get out, Sharky!”

“I can and I have and I will, Ma’am.” Taking a breath he releases what he’s debating on, “Not every guy wants it like that, Shorty.” Out of view within the bus behind her he reaches into the darkness, “Sooner you learn that,” He shrugs, looking stern though he is sporting quite the rock-hard erection, “Sooner we can do more than just talk.”

“Sharky-”

The shotgun blast dissipates the vision of her and he looks down at the barrel, nearly disappointed he hadn’t submitted and agreed to be turned into one of her newest pets, “Well. Least I got my twenty bucks worth.”